The sunlight from the window felt good on Lois’s back. She waited to open her eyes, hoping that the dream she’d been having about Luthor and new bodies and gender switches had been just that – a horrible dream.
Then she realized her face was against a head of long blonde wavey hair and her arms were around the middle of a female body – Clark. They were spooning. It was comfortable, lying there together, her large body curling protectively around his now smaller one.
Oddly, he smelled right. Last night they had tried to kiss before going to bed and it had felt like they were teenagers necking for the first time. Nothing fit quite right. The angles were wrong and so was the scent. Clark had always smelled of soap and fresh air and a hint of aftershave. ‘Alexa’ was more ‘earthy’ in a way Lois couldn’t describe. Last night Alexa had felt ‘wrong’.
But this morning… she had no idea how it happened, but this morning Clark smelled right again. Maybe she was adjusting to this body. Last night, her body had definitely responded to the sight of Alexa in leggings and an off-the-shoulder top.
And it was responding again. With a groan, Lois disentangled herself from Clark and rolled out of bed. She padded over to the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony that connected the three rooms of the suite. Martha and Jonathan had the doors open to the living area and were having their morning’s coffee. The coffee smelled heavenly.
The morning sun felt good. Lois wasn’t a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, but today seemed to be an exception. Then she remembered that Superman had gained his powers from the sun. If she was right about having some of Superman’s DNA in her cells, then she was probably solar powered as well.
“I hope there’s more where that came from,” Lois said, moving to join Martha and Jonathan. Martha nodded to the room service cart just inside.
Lois fixed herself a cup and rejoined Martha and Jonathan in watching the city waking up beneath them. Since the suite was just one floor below the penthouse, they had a spectacular view.
“Sleep well?” Martha asked.
Lois nodded, sipping the hot bitter brew. “Cl… Alexa’s still asleep.”
“No, I’m right here,” Clark said. His hair was tousled and he’d thrown a simple robe over his pajamas. He looked utterly adorable.
“Coffee?” he asked. Again Martha simply pointed to the room service cart.
Lois watched as Clark fixed himself a cup and came back out onto the balcony. He had looked a little wan last night, but now he seemed to be almost glowing in the morning light.
“Ready for a busy day?” Jonathan asked.
“The first of many, I don’t doubt,” Clark said. He was scratching at the bandage under his top.
“Does that need to be changed?” Martha asked.
Clark shrugged. “It just started itching.”
“But no pain or anything?” Martha insisted.
“No, it just itches.”
Martha went over to him and pulled off the dressing. Her eyes widened and Lois moved closer to see what was going on. Clark’s wound was almost completely healed. In fact, as she watched, the wound completely vanished, leaving only unblemished skin.
“Um, you haven’t had any unusual cravings, have you?” Lois asked him.
Clark shook his head. “And no cravings for doppelbuffo frogs, either.”
“But normal humans don’t heal that fast,” Jonathan reminded them.
“No, they don’t,” Clark agreed worriedly.
“Well, we’re already planning to talk to Klein and Hamilton over at STAR Labs,” Lois reminded them. “Maybe they’ll have a clue as to what’s going on. I can’t imagine Mamba risking giving Luthor a less than perfect female to play with.”
“Unless it was a way to get back at Luthor, or the accelerated growth process isn’t as perfect as Mamba told Luthor,” Clark said.
“Or the wound wasn’t as bad as it looked,” Martha suggested. “Or you just naturally heal quickly…”
“Well, we won’t know anything until we talk to Klein and Hamilton and find out what they know,” Lois said. “And before we do that, we need to check with Henderson on Lola’s murder, and get your papers and luggage.”
“And while you two do that, Jonathan and I will be making arrangements to pack up Clark’s apartment and…” Martha’s voice trailed off. She took a shuddery breath. “…and arranging his funeral. We need to talk to the Lanes and see what they want to do, if they want to have a joint service here in Metropolis, if they’re looking at a burial or cremation… Do we consider the kids married or not? And if so, do they end up here or in Smallville?”
“It’s a horrible thing, burying your child,” Jonathan said. “It’s just plain wrong. And knowing you’re not actually dead doesn’t really make it any easier. We still have to go through all the arrangements, make all the decisions… unless you happened to make a funeral plan for yourself when you made out your will.”
“My… Clark’s will just says that everything goes to you guys except for a couple bequests,” Clark said. “There’s Jimmy and Rachel and a couple charities. I… he didn’t really have that much.”
“Neither did Lois,” Lois said. “I guess they thought they had time to worry about things like that.”
“Which reminds me,” Clark said. “On that list of things we need to get done ASAP, maybe an estate lawyer should be on that list.”
Lois agreed.
Breakfast was quiet. Martha and Jonathan were dealing with Clark’s ‘death’ with somber dignity. In all the confusion Lois was embarrassed to admit she had forgotten for the moment that as far as the world was concerned, Lois Lane and Clark Kent were dead and so was Superman.
Jonathan had left copy of the Daily Planet on the room service cart. Lois picked it up and started reading. It was strange not to see Lane and Kent as front page bylines. It was sobering to realize their names would never be on a byline ever again.
World Mourns as City Prepares to Bury Its Hero. Perry’s name was on the article. A second article had the headline ‘Police Confirm Clark Kent NOT Superman’. The article was simply attributed to ‘staff’ but Lois detected Perry’s writing there, too. ‘Witnesses have told police investigators that Clark Kent was seen entering the building above Luthor’s bunker several minutes prior to Superman’s arrival,’ the article said. It went on to say that other reports indicated that there was strong evidence that Luthor shot and killed Kent using the same super weapon that was used to kill Lois Lane and Superman. The last few paragraphs described Clark’s journalistic career and his engagement to Lois Lane.
“It looks like the city is going all out for him,” Clark said, reading over her shoulder.
“He saved a lot of people,” Lois said. “He was a symbol for compassion and justice and doing what’s right. And he was cut down by a greedy, vicious, egotistical madman.” Lois chuckled harshly. “Luthor wanted to be remembered by history as a philanthropist and brilliant businessman. Instead he’ll go down as the man who murdered Superman.”
Clark nodded to the clock on the wall. “We’d better get moving if we’re get down to One-P-P before the traffic gets crazy.”
“You first,” Lois said. “I’m not budging until I’ve had more coffee.”
Lois savored her coffee and blueberry muffin, watching the time until she was reasonably certain Clark was finished with the shower. That was just one more they were going to have to get used to and not just because of the gender change. Even as Lois and Clark they hadn’t shared bathrooms all that often and now to do it on a daily basis – that was going to take time.
Lois walked into their bedroom to find Clark wrapped in a terrycloth robe glaring at his reflection as he tugged at a comb in his hair.
“This is ridiculous,” he complained. “I can’t even get a comb through this.”
“That’s because you’re using the wrong comb,” Lois said, stifling an unmasculine giggle.
Lois grabbed the comb away from him and began untangling the blonde hair with her fingers. It took only a minute or so to deal with the tangles out and get his hair brushed out. “I used to do this for Lucy when we were little,” Lois explained.
“Maybe I should get it cut off,” Clark suggested.
“You don’t like a Farrah Fawcett look?”
“It looks fine on Farrah Fawcett,” he said. “I’m just not sure I can handle it.”
Lois chuckled as she pinned his hair into a chignon. “There, business elegant.” She inspected her own face in the mirror. Her chin and cheeks were rough with blond beard even if it didn’t show much. It was a little disconcerting. “You have to worry about hair while I have to worry about shaving,” she complained.
“Hopefully invulnerability hasn’t kicked in yet,” Clark said. “Otherwise you’ll have to wait for heat vision to come in and I’m not sure how the management will feel about scorch marks in the bathroom.”
“Maybe I should just grow a beard,” Lois suggested jokingly.
Clark gave her a serious look. “This thing is weird enough as it is. I’m not kissing a guy with a beard.”
Lois put her head next to his and gazed at both reflections in the mirror. “We will get through this you know. He isn’t going to win. We won’t let him.”
“I though I was the optimist here,” Clark said.
“You don’t have a monopoly on it.”
It didn’t take long for Lois to get ready. It wasn’t too hard to choose what to wear when your choices were simply casual or business. White shirt, khaki trousers, blue blazer, no tie. Luckily she’d been able to shave her face with the electric razor in the shave kit Luthor had prepared even though the razor seemed to be straining towards the end.
One of O’Brien’s men accompanied Lois and Clark down to the car where a driver was waiting. Lois knew their itinerary was a little loose for the security men’s liking but it couldn’t be helped.
First stop, One Police Plaza and Bill Henderson’s office. Lois ignored the stares at her and Clark as they crossed the squad room. One thing she had learned as a reporter – people usually didn’t ask if you belonged there if you acted like you had every right to be there.
“I thought I’d see you two this morning,” Henderson by way of greeting as they entered his office.
“We thought we’d see if there was anything more on why Morris killed Lola,” Clark said.
“And if you guys have anything more on Lois Lane’s murder,” Lois added.
“Reed and Wilkerson should be back in a while,” Henderson said. “You two do realize you shouldn’t even be up here, right?” He gave Clark a hard look. “And I should run you in for corrupting Reed. All she could talk about this morning was taking you shopping at Victoria’s Secret.”
“Blame Mrs. Kent,” Clark said. “She started it. So… anything you can tell us?”
“The preliminary toxicology report on Lane indicates she was pumped full of psychotropics and things the DEA is more than a little interested in tracking down.” He chuckled drily. “Hell even dead, Lane opens up cans of worms.”
“Who’s handling it for the DEA?” Clark asked.
“A fellow by the name of Dan Scardino,” Henderson said. “From what I hear, he was a friend of Lois’s before she finally got together with Kent.”
Although Lois wanted to ask more about the toxicology report, and the DEA’s involvement, she knew that now was not the time. Lola’s death was a more pressing matter. Besides, she knew that Dan Scardino was a bit of a sore issue with Clark.
“Did you get anything from Morris on why he opened fire?” Lois asked.
Henderson sat back in his chair. “What he said didn’t make a lot of sense. He was going off on how she was an abomination, an affront to God and he was doing God’s work in ridding the world of her.”
“He was a religious fanatic?” Lois asked.
“Not until he was arrested,” Henderson said. “My gut tells me he was well coached, but my gut is all we have since Morris died of an apparent heart attack only an hour after he was booked into central holding.”
“Resurrection drug?” Clark asked.
“Well, if it was he’s going to have a real unpleasant surprise when he wakes up after the autopsy,” Henderson said. “And Morris’s death is the other reason Scardino’s involved. He was the one tracking down ‘Resurrection’.”
“I thought Lane and Kent broke that case,” Clark said.
Henderson chuckled. “I’m sure they figured prominently in his reports. Which reminds me…” He looked around his desktop for something then picked up a business card. He handed it to Lois. “That’s the attorney who’s handling what’s left of Luthor’s estate. He wants to see you at your earliest convenience.”
Lois read the card. ‘Lawrence Jennings, Attorney at Law.’ The address was in one of the near-by high rises.
“Pricey address,” Lois commented. “Is he on the up and up?”
“He’s a lawyer,” Henderson said with a shrug. “Handles corporation and tax law mostly. Word on the street is that he’s okay, so I guess not all corporate attorneys are well-educated scumbags.”
“He’s on retainer for the Superman Foundation,” Clark said. “He does a lot of pro bono consulting for charities. But I didn’t know he was associated with Luthor.”
“He may not be,” Henderson said. “But you won’t know how he’s involved until you talk to him.”
There was a knock on the door and a man in a garish Hawaiian shirt walked in without waiting for permission – Dan Scardino. “You were right,” he said to Henderson. “We found traces of Resurrection in Morris’s tissues.”
“But…?” Henderson prompted.
“But not enough to bring him back,” Scardino said. “And it certainly didn’t help that the stuff was mixed with poison.”
“So he thought he had a get-out-of-jail-free card that wasn’t,” Clark said.
Scardino finally seemed to notice Lois and Clark standing there, although he had no way of knowing who they really were. Scardino carefully looked Clark up and down and Lois had to fight down the urge to knock him flat. Was that what Clark had felt when Scardino was chasing after her? No wonder he had acted so weird around Dan.
Henderson made the introductions.
“Alexander?” Scardino repeated. “Luthor’s hidden away, never heard of before, son and heir?”
“I can’t say much about that, having never met the man,” Lois said. She tried to recall what she had found attractive about Scardino last year. Maybe it was simply that he had paid attention to her at a time when Clark hadn’t been. Now he just seemed loud and obnoxious.
“But isn’t that what the papers are saying?” Scardino insisted.
“They may be saying it, but he never acted the part and I certainly wouldn’t have chosen him to be my father,” Lois stated.
“Actually,” Clark put in, “there are some schools of thought that say that people do choose their parents…”
Lois glared at him. “Trust me on this one. Lex Luthor is the last man on earth I would have chosen for my father.”
