Part 2
“Lex doesn’t count—well, technically he does, but he’s the worst of them,” Lois said, her fingers tightening around Clark’s. “He’s the only one who actually kidnapped me.” She looked at him, steady. “I’m not shutting you out. Why do you think I stayed quiet when you practically tossed me over your shoulder and declared I was yours?”
“Mine?” Clark asked, eyes searching hers. “So last night wasn’t a fluke?”
“No,” Lois said, steady and sure. “It wasn’t a fluke. I’d think you knew me better than that.”
Before either could respond, Perry White emerged from his office, eyebrows raised.
“Well, look who decided to show up,” he said, striding toward them. “Planning to do any actual work today, or should I just pencil in your honeymoon?”
Both turned to Perry, stunned. Marriage? They’d only been seeing each other for a few months—and most of that had been tangled up in stakeouts, late-night interviews, and half-eaten takeout between deadlines. Exclusive wasn’t even a word they’d said out loud yet.
“Uh, yeah, Chief,” Clark said, stepping back instinctively. “Lois has a source waiting in the conference room—something about a scandal in the Athletics Department at Metropolis University.”
Perry raised an eyebrow. “Then maybe you ought to hear what they have to say before the deadline passes and we’re left headline-less.”
Lois glanced at Clark as they walked off. “Three months, mostly work-related, and not even exclusive. And he says honeymoon.”
Clark gave a sheepish smile. “We really need to stop flirting in the bullpen.”
Lois shook her head, a soft smile playing at her lips. Flirting in the bullpen—something she never imagined herself doing, let alone enjoying. But with Clark, it felt natural. Easy. And maybe a little dangerous.
Lois Lane, openly teasing Clark Kent. A year ago, she would’ve scoffed at the idea. Now, it warmed her heart… and stirred something quieter. Something she didn’t quite know how to name. A longing she hadn’t expected. A vulnerability she rarely allowed. But it was there, just beneath the surface, every time he looked at her like she mattered.
Jonah was pacing inside the conference room, tension etched into every step. When Lois and Clark walked in, he froze.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low but steady. “For what I did back in college. I was an idiot—a tight end who took advantage of his tutor. I regret it, Lois. I really do.”
Clark stepped forward, his voice edged with protectiveness. “What exactly did you do?” he asked, defensive and sharp.
Lois reached out, her hand resting gently on his forearm. “Nothing like that, Clark,” she said softly, grounding him with her touch. “It wasn’t that kind of hurt.”
Clark stepped back, jaw tight.
Jonah pulled out a chair and sat down, his expression grim. “Can we get to why I’m here?” he said. “I’m the head coach of the Metropolis Meteors football team—and there’s a serious problem. Someone’s drugging my players. Or maybe it’s bigger than that. I think there’s a full-blown scandal brewing, and if I’m right, it could take down the entire Athletics Department.”
“That’s what you said before,” Lois pressed, her tone sharper now. “But how? How is this happening under your watch? What exactly is going on, Jonah? Because if someone’s drugging your players, that’s not just reckless—it’s criminal. And if you brought us in, you must know it’s bigger than just a few bad decisions.”
“I’ve seen my players take real hits—injuries that should sideline them for weeks. But they visit the university doctor, and suddenly they’re cleared. Back on the field like nothing happened. Over the past six months, our teams have the lowest injury numbers. That’s not just luck. Some of these injuries are serious, and yet the players insist they feel fine. Every sport this doctor touches, the injured list shrinks. Doesn’t that raise a few red flags?”
“Some of these injuries would’ve raised alarms back when I played,” Clark said, his brow furrowed. “The team physician was never alone in the exam room. There was always an athletic trainer, sometimes a medical assistant, even an assistant coach nearby. So where are they now? Who’s actually overseeing these clearances?”
Lois settled into a seat a few spots down from Jonah, her mind already racing with questions. Clark joined her, the perfect partner for this—especially with his background in football.
Instead of sitting, Clark moved behind her, resting a steady hand on her shoulder.
“If this goes deep,” he said quietly, “the entire Athletic Department could be in trouble. We’re talking fines, suspensions… maybe even getting kicked out of the division.”
Jonah didn’t flinch. He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing as he processed Clark’s words.
“I went straight to the Head of the Athletic Department,” Jonah said, arms crossed. “They told me it’s the team—how I coach, how the staff handles things. That’s why our injury numbers are so low, apparently. No mention of the doctor. Just credit to us, like we’ve cracked some magic formula.”
“Which, of course, you didn’t,” Lois said, her hand resting gently over Clark’s. “Would you be willing to jot down some details for us? Past injuries, which games they happened in—anything that stands out.”
Clark gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, his gaze steady as he looked down at her.
Jonah nodded, the edge in his voice softening. “Yeah. I can do that. I’ve got notes—dates, games, who went down and when. Some of it’s in my head, some in the logs. I’ll pull what I can.”
He glanced between Lois and Clark. “If you’re digging into this, you’ll want everything. I’ll make sure it’s clean and detailed.”
Clark stepped back and headed toward the bullpen door.
“Jimmy can help with some of this,” he said, catching the faint sound of someone calling out. “I’ll go get him.”
Clark didn’t say anything else. He just turned and walked toward the bullpen door, his expression unreadable.
Lois watched him go, a flicker of something tightening in her chest. He hadn’t said a word—but something about the way he moved, the way he left, made her feel like the air had shifted.
“He’s protective,” Jonah said, leaning in slightly. “What’s his story? You two been together long?”
Lois gave a small smile. “Dating? Just a couple of months. But we’ve been partners for over a year. Best friends from the start—though if you asked him, he’d probably say we were barely friends back then.”
“Oh, come on,” Jimmy said, strolling into the conference room with a couple of notepads and pens. “He was in love with you from day one.”
Lois glanced around, realizing Clark hadn’t come back. “Where’d he go?”
“Said he’d catch up with you later,” Jimmy replied, setting the supplies down. “Apparently, he’s got a source over at the university.”
Jonah shot to his feet, tension crackling off him.
“Lois, I came to you because I trust you,” he said, voice tight. “But I don’t know Clark. If he talks to the wrong people, I could lose my job. My career’s on the line here.”
Lois leaned back, stunned by the sudden outburst. It wasn’t just fear—it was desperation.
“Relax,” Lois said, her voice steady. “I trust Clark with my life. He’s saved it more times than I can count. And believe me—he knows how to be subtle.”
“I’m serious,” Jonah said, his voice tight. “That guy acts like he’s guarding something—like you’re his territory. If he talks to the wrong person, someone who runs straight to the Athletic Director or even the President? I’m done. Fired. I’ve been coaching here five years, Lois. I can’t afford one misstep.”
Lois didn’t speak right away. The room felt heavier now—Jonah’s fear wasn’t just about job security; it was about trust, control, and the quiet panic of watching something slip beyond his reach.
She let the silence stretch, just long enough for the tension to settle.
Then she looked up at him, calm but resolute.
“I hear you,” she said. “And I won’t let this blow back on you. Clark’s careful. He doesn’t make noise unless he knows exactly where it’s going.”
Jonah didn’t sit back down. His jaw tightened, eyes scanning the room like he was weighing every risk.
“You trust him. I get that,” he said. “But trust doesn’t stop fallout. If he says the wrong thing to the wrong person—someone who’s loyal to the doctor, or scared of the President—I’m the one who gets burned. Not him.”
“Enough,” Lois said firmly. “Clark knows exactly what he’s doing. He wouldn’t risk this story—or your job. He’s my partner, and he’s the best man I know. He wouldn’t put your career on the line just to chase a headline.”
Jonah hesitated, then spoke quietly. “Look, I know you trust him. But you’ve trusted the wrong men before.”
Lois’s eyes narrowed, but he kept going. “People talk, Lois. I heard about the Luthor thing—how close that got. If Clark’s anything like him, if he’s playing a deeper game…”
He shook his head. “I can’t afford to be collateral damage.”
Lois rose from her chair, her tone firm but controlled. “How about you focus on getting us the information we need?” she said. “Let me worry about Clark. If you give us what you can, we’ll take it from there—and start figuring out what’s really going on.”
Lois stepped out of the conference room, her composure intact but barely. Frustration pulsed beneath the surface—Clark had disappeared without a word, and Jonah’s anger still clung to her like static. She hadn’t earned that. He’d come to her for help, and now she was the one carrying the weight.
At her desk, she grabbed her purse and jacket with mechanical precision. Everything felt off-kilter. She needed air. Space. Maybe a sandwich. Maybe just a strong cup of coffee and a moment to breathe.
