When I woke, the place at my side was empty and cold. I lifted my head, instantly awake and concerned.
Even when he's half dead?
A smile curved my lips when I saw Clark curled up in the chair near the window, his features peaceful, his color warm and golden as the sun bathed him in its light.
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
"Good." Content, Clark turned his face once more to the sun. I wondered how many days--or weeks--it had been since he had last seen the morning sky.
Hope he didn't deep discharge
"I can do it," he said hurriedly, and I scolded myself for my tactlessness. Tact wasn't a quality I had ever seen the need of cultivating--reporters didn't get front page stories through diplomacy--but now I wished I had.
From the date on my ATM receipt the night before, I knew I had been held in that cell less than twenty-four hours.
Wow, that was fast. Wonder if her absence was even noted.
From the amount of relief in Perry's voice when I had called him, I gauged that there had been no ransom note--not that I had expected there to be--and that my co-workers had been caught between fear that I had been kidnapped and a suspicion that I had gone undercover to work on a secret story. It wouldn't have been the first time--for either possibility--though both had become rarer in the past two months.
So, it was noted. And
"Can you read minds?" I demanded suspiciously. "Because it's a bad habit!"
At least, in others.
He's not saying he would forgive Lex, is he? But then, Lex hasn't hurt Lois. Too much. So... I guess it's just a scuffle between boys.
His voice broke the slightest bit on the last word. I didn't notice. I was staring at him--flat-out, jaw-on-the-ground, eyes-popping-out-like-a-cartoon staring at him. Because I hadn't even known people like that existed.
Superman, I reminded myself. Superman was like that.
But Superman had special powers and an extraordinary history and an eye-catching Suit. He was bound to be extraordinary. But my partner? The small-town nobody who stood when a woman entered the room and carried a handkerchief in his pocket and said hello to everyone on the street and would give the jacket off his back to anyone in trouble--who expected *him* to be extraordinary? Or, I thought slowly, were all those little oddities part of what made him so special?
And how had I forgotten that this was the type of man he was?
Poor Clark. So close. So far.
. "Be careful what we say. Luthor...might have planted bugs in your apartment while you were in the cell."
And cameras.
"Not that I have a lot of proof I can hand you at the moment aside from the bruises I gave him," I said acerbically, "but it was Lex Luthor. Clark says he's the Boss."
I thought they weren't going to tell anyone?
And would you mind turning on the news? We might find out where...Superman...is right now."
Worried he might listen in? But if Lex had planted bugs, why is Superman even a worry?
Henderson sighed as he removed his tinted glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I've dealt with victims who've been held by a madman, Lane. Even when it's just for a night or two, the trauma is extensive...and it can be very long-lasting."
Another reason for a loooooong story
"I can be patient!" I insisted haughtily. Hadn't I already been patient? Hadn't I been kind even though I wanted to shake him and find out why he had been so wary of Superman? I had even made breakfast--didn't that count for anything?
