Well, I got three and a half pages of the next part of "Twins" done, but then things got very chaotic, so I retired to my bedroom to do some writing in relative peace and quiet. Since I only had some notes that I'd jotted down from a number of suggestions regarding "Wedding Consequences", that was what I ended up writing. So, without further ado ...
Wedding Consequences: 1/?
by Nan Smith
Previously from the Teaser:
"I can't believe Mr. Stern reconsidered," Lois said in a low voice.
"He didn't want Luthor to win any more'n I did," Perry said. "He's got a bunch of ideas for modernizin' the place that I'm not so sure of, but maybe it'll work out okay. In the meantime, honey, you relax and try to forget about this whole mess. The lawyers and the press can deal with me and your lawyer in the meantime. Don't worry about it. If we really need to get hold of you, I have your number."
"A day or two of my mom's home cooking will have Lois feeling like her old self," Clark said, and if Perry noticed the slight hint of strain in his voice, he didn't remark on it. "With luck, maybe something else will happen in the meantime to distract them."
"It probably will," Perry said. "There's another scandal in the city government brewing. I think I'll assign that new hire, Ralph What'sisname to it. He seems to have a nose for scandal. Maybe he'll be able to dig up some dirt that will take the public's attention off the whole mess."
"I hope so," Lois said. "If you see Superman in the meantime, tell him I said thank you for helping Clark."
"I will," Perry said. He turned onto the Bayshore Parkway, headed for the Metro Private Airport.
**********
And now, Part 1:
"Clark, are you all right?" Lois turned to look at her partner as he leaned back in the passenger seat of the small plane. They had been in the air for seven hours, not counting the stop for refueling, and Lois wished, not for the first time, that they had been able to take a passenger jet or even Superman Express. Still, although it might take longer, this way offered the anonymity that a 727 certainly would not.
In the dim light of the little four-seater plane's cabin, it was hard to tell, but Clark didn't look quite right. His face was drawn and there were dark patches under his eyes. He smiled briefly at her.
"Yeah." He had to clear his throat. "I'm okay."
Was she imagining things, or was that sweat on his forehead? She put out a hand and touched his cheek lightly with the back. He felt warm, and his cheek was damp with perspiration. "Clark, you're running a temperature."
"No, that's not ... well, maybe," he conceded. "I might have picked up that stomach bug that's going around."
"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" she demanded. "We could have put this trip off a day."
"I felt okay a little while ago," he said. "Besides, the faster we got out of Metropolis, the better off we were. For all we knew, one of those guys staked out across from my place might try to climb in *my* kitchen window." He pulled the light jacket he wore more tightly around him. "It's nothing, Lois. I'll be fine."
"Clark, I've *never* seen you sick before! Even when you had amnesia, you were the picture of health!"
"Even the best of us can catch a cold," he said. He rubbed his temples, grimacing slightly.
"What's the matter?"
"Just a bit of a headache," he said.
"Well, that's not surprising, if you're running a fever," she said. "Look, lean back in your seat and try to sleep, okay? You'll feel better if you do."
He nodded and obeyed. She put a hand over his on the seat's armrest. Even his hand was hot, she thought, but she didn't comment. Instead, she leaned forward in the seat. "How much longer?"
The pilot stretched. "About another four hours, Miss."
"Okay, thanks." Lois looked at her companion. Clark definitely looked as if he had felt better, but the stomach bug that had been making the rounds in Metropolis in the last few weeks wasn't serious -- just uncomfortable, as she knew from experience. It lasted about 48 hours and produced a fever and mild symptoms of nausea, but nothing worse. Still, the timing could have been better.
Once they were on the ground, Clark would probably feel better, she reassured herself. The motion of the plane was undoubtedly contributing to his discomfort. Perry had rented a car for them in Jimmy's name. They would pick it up at the airport and then they could drive the rest of the way to Smallville. Correction; she would drive while Clark slept. Fortunately, she knew the route, having traveled it twice before on her previous trip to Smallville last fall, and this time there would be no Jason Trask awaiting them. It would just be two weeks on a Kansas farm, with no yacht cruises, no French chefs and definitely no reporters to intrude on their peace and quiet. Normally, she would have regarded such a program with distaste if not downright revulsion, and probably by the time the two weeks were up she would be glad to go back to Metropolis, even if she had to face the tabloids. At the moment, though, the thought of Jonathan and Martha Kent and their small farm was unbelievably attractive.
Clark's head fell sideways and his heavier breathing told her that he was asleep. She put her hand over his and held it lightly. The skin was too warm but she continued to hold his hand anyway. How incredibly fortunate she was to have him. He had kept his vow that he would not see her married to Lex, and she couldn't blame him, but he must have come to be there for her when Henderson arrested Lex. She kicked herself figuratively again. How could she have been so callous, walking over Clark's feelings as if they didn't matter? He had been there for her through thick and thin over the last months but as usual she hadn't been thinking of anyone but herself. That was going to change. From now on, she would think before she spoke. Clark deserved better from her.
Lois sighed softly. He still loved her in spite of what she had put him through, and that was something of a miracle. They were going to have to wait to start any kind of official relationship until the novelty of the events at the wedding wore off, but maybe in a year or so ...
After a time, the soft drone of the engine and the gentle swaying of the cabin blended into a kind of haze, and Lois dozed.
**********
Clark leaned back in the seat, following Lois's instructions. He had never felt like this before, and the fact scared him a little. What was going on? Superman didn't get sick ... but he wasn't Superman any longer, he reminded himself. It had been five days now since he'd escaped from the Kryptonite cage, and there was no sign of his powers coming back. Did that mean that they were gone for good? Even if they weren't, did the lack of powers mean that he would now become vulnerable to ordinary Earth-germs? Or was it something else?
He heard Lois's voice asking the pilot how much longer the trip would last, but it was a pleasant murmur in the background. He hadn't slept well for the past few nights -- well, if he was honest with himself, he hadn't slept well for weeks, ever since he had discovered that Lois meant to marry Lex Luthor, but without his powers, sleeping on the couch the last few nights had been nearly impossible. His joints were still full of aches and pains from the Kryptonite exposure, and his muscles were sore. There was also the added complication that he had felt it necessary to maintain a certain level of alertness in case one of the less reputable members of the press stakeout outside his place decided to try to find out what secrets he was hiding behind the closed doors of his apartment. Now that the trip was nearly over, he finally felt able to relax and the fatigue rushed over him like a great wave.
**********
Perry White jerked awake at the sound of his ringing phone. He sat up, reaching for the instrument, fumbled for a moment and managed to grab the receiver without knocking it on the floor. "H'lo?"
"Perry?" The voice of Bill Henderson on the other end brought him quickly awake. "Is that you?"
"Yeah," he answered, keeping his voice low. Beside him, his wife rolled over and opened one eye.
"Who is it?" she mumbled.
"Henderson," he mouthed silently. "Yeah, it's me, Bill. What's up?"
"We think we may have a problem, Perry. Your pilot friend, Barry Jones, just turned up at the emergency room with a big lump on his head. He'd been assaulted and all his identification taken. According to the dispatcher at Metro Field, the plane took off on schedule. Did Lane and Kent get on it?"
White sat up so fast that his head swam for an instant. "*What*?"
"Did Lane and Kent get on that plane?"
"Far as I know they did." He pushed the covers aside and swung his feet out of bed. "Is Jones okay?"
"Concussion and a big lump on his head, but they think he'll be all right. Okay, we're going to try to trace the plane. It sounds like someone substituted pilots. Damn!"
"Is there anything I can do?" White asked.
"Yeah. Where were they going?"
"They were supposed to be headed for Wichita Field in Kansas. Clark's parents live in Smallville."
"Well, it sounds like someone else had other plans. With the amount of money involved, and the business Luthor ran, I can see somebody wanting Luthor's widow out of the way. I'll keep you informed." Henderson hung up.
Perry put the receiver down slowly. Alice had pushed herself up on one elbow. "What's going on?"
He told her. Alice bit her lip. "Is there anything we can do?"
"Henderson's on it," he said. "Normally I'd expect Lois and Clark to be able to take care of themselves, but before they left, both of them were looking like they'd about reached the end of their ropes. Clark wasn't feelin' good, either. He didn't say anything, but I could tell somethin' was wrong. I figured gettin' the two of them out of town so they could recuperate was the best thing we could do, but it looks like somebody else might have his eye on Luthor's money. Of course lots of people have tried to kill Lois, but right now she's still shaken up over the Luthor thing ... and there's been no sign of Superman for a week. This is bad."
**********
A change in the motion of the plane brought Lois out of her light doze and for an instant, blinking around in the dimness of the cabin, she didn't remember where she was, but memory returned quickly. They were in a four-seater private plane, headed for Kansas. The cabin light had been turned off. Only the little emergency light gleamed on the cabin wall, dimly illuminating her partner's sleeping face. The plane must be coming in for a landing, she thought.
Clark was still soundly asleep in his seat, his head drooping sideways onto her shoulder. His face looked more flushed than it had before, and there was a sheen of perspiration on his upper lip. The slight growth of beard on his chin and cheeks scratched her arm lightly when she moved.
The plane dipped sharply, and she gasped. What was ...
The pilot's seat was empty. For a second, the fact didn't register, then she unfastened her seatbelt with trembling fingers and lunged forward to peer over the seat back, looking to see if the man had collapsed or something. Nothing. The pilot was gone.
"Clark!" She screamed the word as she scrambled to climb into the front.
"Wha ..." She heard his voice, blurred with sleep as she squeezed between the seats and hastily belted herself into the copilot's position.
The controls looked halfway familiar, the result of having ridden in a number of small planes in the course of her duties, but she had no idea what to do with them. "Clark!"
"What's going on?" The muzziness of sleep had disappeared from his voice and an instant later he was peering between the seats.
"The pilot's gone!"
"Gone?"
"Gone! What are we going to do?"
She could hear him fumbling with the seat belt and a soft exclamation of pain, then he was squeezing between the seats. He folded his long frame into the pilot's chair, and she saw him turning his head rapidly as he took in the instrument readings. "The autopilot's on," he said. "We're okay for a few minutes at least, but there's not much fuel left."
"What are we going to *do*?" she wailed.
"We need to find a place to land this thing," he replied. "I don't know what's going on here, but it looks like we've been set up."
"Not by Perry!"
"No, of course not. But Lois, did it occur to you that you're a very wealthy widow?"
She gulped. "It hadn't, no."
"Not to mention, some of Luthor's associates weren't the most upstanding of citizens."
"I get the picture," she snapped. "How are we going to get down? Do you know how to fly one of these things?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. First, though, we need to find a reasonably flat place down there to land. Can you see anything below us?"
She peered down at the dark countryside below. "Not a thing."
"Keep looking. I'm going to bring us down a bit closer to the ground so we can see the details a little better."
Lois bit her lip, watching her partner as he handled the little craft. "Where did you learn to fly a plane?" she asked finally.
He didn't remove his gaze from the instruments. "We're over mountains," he said, "but it looks like there's a field ahead and to the left. It's the best we're likely to find. I'm going to try to bring us down there."
Lois nodded, gripping the arms of the copilot's chair so tightly that she thought they might break.
"Hang on," Clark said, suddenly. "I need to get this on the first try. We may not have enough fuel to try again."
Silence, broken only by the droning of the engine. The dark field came dimly into sight, but Clark wasn't watching it. His gaze was fixed on his instruments. Wasn't an instrument landing the hardest of all? On the other hand, considering what she could see ahead of them, it might be the only option.
Her partner seemed completely calm. The plane seemed to float toward the ground and in the end, she squeezed her eyes shut and simply held on.
She knew when the wheels hit because there was a jolt as if Clark had misjudged the distance. They bounced once and then again, and then the plane was rolling forward over rough ground, and they were coming to a stop.
Lois opened her eyes. Clark cut the engine and leaned back in the pilot's chair, closing his eyes. He blew air out in a gusty sigh. Only then did she realize that the calm he had maintained during the descent had been a façade. He'd been almost as scared as she was.
"You did it," she croaked.
"Yeah." He opened his eyes and smiled at her. It was a wobbly smile, but it was still a smile. "I hope I don't have to do that again for a while."
"They say any landing you walk away from is a good one," she said, trying for lightness. "You saved our lives."
"Well, I got us on the ground, anyway."
"Where did you learn how to fly?" she asked again.
He shrugged. "I was in Africa for several months after I graduated from Midwest U," he explained. "For a little while I worked with a group of medical missionaries, flying in and out of the interior. I never had a license, though. It was simply a matter of one of the pilots teaching me to be a backup pilot, just in case. I haven't flown a plane in nearly four years."
"Thank god you remembered how." She fumbled with the seat belt. "I guess we'd better get out."
He shook his head. "We may as well stay where we are until the sun comes up," he said. "We haven't got a clue where we are. This sure as heck isn't Kansas."
He was right about that, she knew. "How about the radio? Can't we call for help?"
He gestured to two dangling wires. "I think our pilot made sure we couldn't do that, on the off-chance that we did get down safely," he said. "I'll take a closer look when it's daylight, but ..."
"Yeah. Oh, Clark ..."
He put his arms around her. "We'll get out of here, Lois," he said. "It takes more than this to kill Lane and Kent."
**********
tbc (in a few days)
