Chapter Two
*A Personal Favor*
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Going off of Clark’s stunned look, Lois became worried.
“What is it?” she insisted. “What’s wrong? Clark?”
Suddenly, she was looking into her fiancé’s deep brown eyes. He had turned his head while Lois was focused on her questions.
“It’s my mother,” he breathed.
“Your mother?” Lois was confused. “I’ve heard of mothers having eyes in the backs of their heads, but I didn’t know Martha could talk to people in their heads too.”
“No,” Clark explained. “Not Martha--Lara. My Kryptonian mother is talking to me in my head.”
Lois’s eyes widened, then she put her hand on Clark’s forehead, ushering him into the warmth of his apartment from the balcony. “Maybe there was something weird about the force field, since you’ve never heard voices in your head after Kryptonite exposure before.”
When the pair got inside Clark’s apartment, he spun into some comfortable clothes while Lois rummaged in his dresser for something to borrow. He turned back to her, and Lois noticed the exuberant expression in his eyes as he held her at arms length, hands on her shoulders.
“That’s just it, Lois,” Clark continued. “If I hadn’t just seen the ship in orbit with my own two eyes, I’d be thinking the same thing. But I did see it--they’re *here,* and they’re alive!”
Stunned, Lois leaned against the dresser, one of Clark’s old sweatshirts clutched to her chest as she digested that information. “Wow, really?”
“Yeah,” was the answer. “I don’t know how, but she said that it took them three decades to get here.”
“Talk about your long commutes,” Lois quipped. She was rewarded with a half-smile from Clark before he seemed to stare into space again, listening. “Is it her again, or is someone in trouble?”
She was a little annoyed when Clark shushed her with a hand motion. “Just a minute,” he said.
Deciding that she might as well be comfortable, Lois finished her search for clothing, and then sat on Clark’s bed to wait while he listened. He must have noticed her movements, because a few seconds later, he was sitting next to her.
After another minute or two, Clark spoke, startling Lois even though she had been waiting for just that.
“Sorry, Honey,” he said. “It was just a bit of a long explanation they wanted to give me, so I thought I’d better get it all before passing it on.”
“Oh, okay. So . . .””
“So . . . what?”
“Clark!” She rolled her eyes. “The explanation?”
“Right! Um, well, they said that back when Krypton exploded, the drive that powered my ship was one of only two of that type that existed,” he began. “The other one was supposed to be for their ship, but they didn’t have time to install it before the planet exploded. As it was, they were lucky to be able to equip my ship and escape on their own. . . .”
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The next day, Clark walked down the ramp into the Daily Planet newsroom with a bounce in his step. He had yet to see Jor-El and Lara face-to-face, but had spent a few hours the night before conversing with them telepathically--with occasional interruptions from Lois if he went too long without telling her what was happening--about their plans on Earth.
And so it was that Clark sought Jimmy Olsen’s assistance that morning.
He found the young photographer at his desk a few moments after he made it into the pit. After booting his computer, Clark went to retrieve some coffee for Lois and him, and then made his way to Jimmy’s desk, setting Lois’s mug onto her desk as he passed.
“Hey, Jimmy,” he said taking a sip from his own mug. “Got a minute?”
“Sure, CK, what’s up?”
“Let’s go into the conference room,” Clark invited. “This isn’t the kind of thing to say in an open room.
Closing the door behind a bewildered Jimmy, Clark gestured for him to take a seat.
“So, what can I do for you?” Jimmy asked once he was settled into a chair.
“Actually,” Clark replied, “I have a favor to ask you--for Superman.”
The young man stood. “Superman? What’s wrong? Is someone in trouble? What are we sitting around in here for?”
Clark reached out and grabbed Jimmy’s arm, gently pulling him back into his seat. “Nothing’s wrong, Jim,” he said. “If there was anything wrong, he’d have come here to ask you himself. As it is, he didn’t think it would be a good idea to disrupt the newsroom to ask you for a *personal* favor.”
Jimmy let out a relieved sigh at the news that all was well--or as well as it could be in Metropolis, anyway. “Oh, well I guess that makes sense then. Sure, I can do a favor for Superman.”
“Don’t you want to know what it is first?” Clark chuckled.
The photographer’s eyes widened. “Oh, right. I guess that would help, wouldn’t it?”
Clark nodded before explaining with a smile, “Here’s the thing.” He sat forward in his chair, leaning his elbows on the table so he could make gestures while he talked. “Superman’s parents are in town, and they kind of need a place to park.”
One eyebrow climbed Jimmy’s forehead. “But there are parking lots all over the city, CK.”
Clark shook his head. “You don’t understand, Jimmy. *Superman’s* parents are here, *from Krypton,* and they need somewhere to park *their ship* where it won’t easily be found--by scientists, tourists, or even just by random hitchhikers.”
“Oh!” The younger man slapped his forehead with his own left palm. “Why didn’t I see that before? Of course! They need somewhere to park their *spaceship!*”
“Right,” Clark agreed. “Do you think you could find somewhere large enough to hide a good-sized yacht which isn’t easily accessible to humans?”
“Around Metropolis?”
“Anywhere. Kryptonians can fly, after all.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jimmy nodded, distracted. It seemed to Clark that the computer whiz was already formulating a plan to do just that. “I’ll get right on it, CK.”
“There’s no rush, Jimmy. They’ve been in the ship thirty years already,” he explained. “What’s a couple days more? Besides,” Clark elaborated, clapping a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “Like I said, this is a personal favor, and Superman wouldn’t want you to get into trouble with Perry for doing personal things on Planet time.”
“Well, I guess I could start on it after hours then,” the young man responded, seeming to deflate slightly, but only slightly. Clark could tell that Jimmy was still very eager to begin searching for a place to hide the ship.
“Sure,” Clark answered. “Come on. Let’s get back to work.”
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