Whoa! So it took me a bit longer to write this chapter, as you can all tell, but it's 'super' long--around twice the length of a normal chapter for me--so I hope that will make up for it.
Thanks for the reviews everyone. It makes all the hard work worth it.
Life is crazy right now, so I'm not making any obligations for the next chapter except...well, look for it sometime this next week.
Oh, and HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!!
Please remember to review.
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Chapter 27: If Only You Knew
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Clark stood there, leaning against the wall for some time in silence until the ache in his leg began to grow sharp. He straightened, then limped over and sat beside his mother and held her.
Clark called Perry some time later, telling him of the news with a shaking voice, and telling him that he was going to Smallville for a few days, and was planning on staying around for a couple weeks to help his mom with the farm and to try and recover some control over his life. Perry wasn’t pleased—Lois had come in the day before and seemed hard set on finding out who this “Boss” was, and finding where Superman was on top of that, and it was a big story even for Mad-Dog Lane. Clark reluctantly and guiltily offered to hand in his resignation, understanding that Perry could hardly let one of his reporters go for so long, but the editor was resistant.
“Listen, Kent. I didn’t need you when I hired you. My budget was tight enough as it was, and I had a full staff. But you came bumbling in here and made me give you a job, and you know what? That’s fine. The stories you’ve helped bring in have boosted our sells enough to make it worth it. So you go on and take care of what you need, but be back here by the 27th ready to get me some front-page exclusives.”
The 27th. Two weeks and a day to recover.
Two weeks and a day to try and figure out the mess that had become his life.
Two weeks and a day without seeing Lois.
They spent most of the day catching phone call after phone call of condolences and well-wishes, and preparing to take Jonathan's body back to Smallville for his funeral. Both Martha and Clark switched off trying to take care of the other, both caught in a whirlwind of loss, yet concerned for the other at the same time.
Both of them insisted on making an early lunch while the other rested, but neither of them really felt like resting, so they ended up working together to make a simple meal that they ate mostly in silence.
Clark wasn’t very hungry. He stirred the casserole around on his plate, perfunctorily bringing a bite to his mouth every once in a while. His apartment was quiet and still—even the world outside the open window seemed to be unnaturally silent, even as the sun grew high in the sky. He was stilled in his actions when his mother reached over and placed a frail hand on his. He looked up at her.
“Clark,” Martha said. She hadn’t eaten much either, but now her eyes were fixed on her son. She breathed in shakily. “Your father was very proud of you.” She smiled around tears that threatened to trickle from her eyes.
Clark turned his hand over, taking his mother’s in his own. “I know, Mom.”
He sought for something to say in return. Some condolence, some reassurance, but nothing was forthcoming. He knew the love his parents had held for each other—each was incomplete without the other, and their bond had grown ever stronger over the years upon years that they had spent together. So he just took a deep breath and held his mother’s hand with both of his as he leaned over to pull her into a wordless embrace.
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Lois arrived at work a bit late, ready for Perry to yell at her and stroke that defensive anger even hotter to drive her into her story, but to her surprise Perry didn’t even seem to notice her entrance. He was talking on the phone in his office—the door was closed, and he seemed strangely grim.
Lois went to her desk, dropping off her things as she looked over at Clark’s desk. She frowned at it, noting the still-surreal neatness.
He wasn’t there. Of course, she didn't think he would be yet, if he had gone to the hospital to see his father. She looked back to Perry, who was nodding slowly with his ear still stuck to the phone.
She sat down slowly and turned on her computer, leaning back and glaring at the air as she began mentally sorting through the things she had to do.
She was going to track down the man responsible for hurting Superman.
Someone had stuck a printout beside her keyboard, and Lois glanced at it before picking it up. It was Clark’s report of his time with Bureau 39, and she was eager to find details that may help on the story.
She was quickly disappointed, however. Clark’s report was a fast read and she tossed it aside once she was done. It was bland and useless—apparently Clark had been locked up almost the whole time, and the questions that he claimed he had been asked were almost the exact same as the ones Lois had made up for her report, as were his useless answers. All around, it was pretty dull, though Lois was perturbed to note that Clark’s did have a more realistic feel to it. Of course, that was because his was real, while hers most definitely wasn’t, but she didn’t want anyone else noticing that.
Still, it gave her nothing else to go off.
It was useless. He had been walking home when someone came up behind him and put some drug over his mouth, and that was it. He didn’t even know where Superman saved him from.
The man was probably too terrified to look, Lois thought. She thought she remembered him mentioning disliking flying sometime. Useless farm boy.
The brief thought of how odd it was to think of Clark flying with Superman crossed her mind. Clark was quite tall, and while his weight wouldn't have been an issue, it still was an odd picture to imagine. How in the world did Superman carry him?
She shook her head, taking the article in hand despite its uselessness. After a few phone calls to Henderson for some filler details she had a perfunctory article out and ready for the Planet’s next edition.
She printed it and glanced up for Perry, but he was on the phone still—or maybe again. She hadn’t been watching him enough to know if it was the same phone call.
“Jimmy!” Lois saw the junior photographer a couple desks down and shouted for him. “I want everything you have from your research on Bureau 39. I want to know everything about the conditions of Logram and his men’s deaths, and a background check thorough enough to know the day they stopped using trainers.” She stood. “Who has been covering this story while I was gone?”
It was Ralph, to Lois’s displeasure. So she went over to him, and managed to endure his presence as she gathered the information he had. It was a mess, and made up a good ugly pile after he dumped it into her arms.
That, along with everything that Jimmy dumped onto her desk, made quite a formidable mountain.
Lois practically rubbed her hands together as she looked at it through narrowed eyes.
It was a puzzle. A broken picture, and all she had to do was put the pieces together to find the hidden man inside.
And she was going to. The inner mad dog was practically snarling with anticipation.
Once she found the man, he had better pray that Superman was back to his full strength to protect him, because only he would be strong enough to stop Lois from getting her hands on him first.
She glanced over at Perry’s office and was glad to find him off the phone at last, and as she watched he waved a gaggle of reporters out of his office and sat down at his desk and began pouring over a layout. Lois swept over and opened the door without knocking. The editor looked up at her sharply.
“Lois. I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming in today after all.”
That was it. No shouting, no ranting, but he hadn’t really checked on her since she’d come in either, and Lois had been there for a couple hours now.
“I said I was, chief, and so I am,” Lois said. “I have to track down both this boss and Superman.”
“Ah,” Perry frowned. “Still no sign of him, then?”
Lois was starting to get annoyed at the assumption that she might know more about Superman than anyone else, even if it wasn’t an exactly incorrect assumption.
“Where’s Clark?” Lois demanded, not letting her voice soften.
“Just got off the phone with him,” Perry said slowly. “His dad just passed away this morning.”
Ouch. It made Lois angry that the news struck her to the heart. After all, it wasn’t her business what happened with Clark Kent and his family, and it wasn’t as if she feared daily losing her own father.
But still, for some reason the news hit her hard.
Lois dropped her article on Perry’s desk. “There you go. Not a front page article, exactly, but something to say, ‘this is what happened, and we’re working on why’ sort of thing.”
Perry picked up the article, but just looked at Lois.
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance of convincing you to let Ralph continue on with this.”
“Over my dead body,” Lois said firmly. “Bureau 39 was my story, and it still is. That’s it. The end.”
“Kent’s off to Smallville for a few days, Lois. It was his story too, and I don’t feel good about you going off on your own.”
“Hello?” Lois said, throwing up her arms. “Does Congo and weapon smugglers ring a bell? Car theft ring? Three Kerths, perhaps? And look at me. I’m fine. I got away from Bureau 39 on my own, I would like to say. I hardly need Mr. Smallville to watch my back. If you don’t remember, he certainly needed someone to save him.”
Perry frowned. “Now that’s what I don’t get,” he said, sitting back. “Superman disappears, then reappears to do a single rescue before disappearing again. Crime’s shot up faster than a speeding bullet, if you don’t mind me saying, and both the police and the fire force of the city are downright overwhelmed. Where is he?”
“I don’t know, Perry!” Lois practically shouted, her own frustration growing as he ranted. The editor looked at her closely and tossed down her article.
“Well, then. Find out. If Bureau 39 really did have something to hurt him, I want to be the first to know. Got that, Lois?”
“I’ll find him, chief,” Lois said fervently.
“Well, I just got off of a good many phone calls myself. General McPheron’s disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“That’s the best word for it. Vanished. Gone underground. Him and his whole crew. Henderson doesn’t even know where they went.”
Lois felt a chill. That could certainly complicate things.
“Then that’s just one more puzzle piece to figure out,” Lois said. “And when we do…”
She was tempted to make a violent gesture in the air, but even as she trailed off she caught Perry’s raised eyebrow and instead kept her hands still.
“Yeah. Well, you get to that—”
Somebody clapped a heavy hand on Lois’s shoulder.
White rooms. Screams. Desperate helplessness in the face of his pain, his agony. Tears, sweat, blood…
Her reaction came without thought. She spun around, smacking the hand away and driving her elbow into her attacker’s face. There was a yelp and he began to stagger back, but a quick swipe of his feet and he went down. Hard.
Lois froze as she looked down into the blinking expression of Jimmy Olsen.
“What in Elvis’s name—!” Perry swore, jumping to his feet.
“Ow,” Jimmy uttered, wincing as he brought a hand to his nose. His fingers came away red with bright blood. He blinked at it. “Ow.”
Lois blinked, coming to drop down beside him. “Jimmy?” Her heart was beating so hard it was threatening to beat right out of her chest. The bright sky out the windows was spinning with the white room, and she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the blood on Jimmy’s hand. Red blood. So red, just like Superman’s. She swore. “J-Jimmy! Are you all right?” She pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to him with a shaking hand.
“What do you think you’re doing, Lois?” Perry demanded. Lois winced as Perry put a hand on her shoulder as he knelt down beside her.
“S-sorry,” Lois stuttered. “I—I didn’t mean to. I mean…I didn’t think.”
“Ow,” Jimmy uttered, but managed to talk with a bit of difficulty around the blood. “I—I’m all right.” He looked up through watering eyes and saw Lois, kneeling pale as death at his side. “You should wear a warning sign, you know,” he managed to joke.
Lois blinked, shaking for real now. “I’m sorry. I…I…”
“Can you stand, son?” Perry asked.
“Yeah—it’s not too bad,” Jimmy said, and began to stand with a brave wince. Perry helped him into the chair in front of his desk, and Lois stood unsteadily.
Perry seemed satisfied that Jimmy wasn’t going to keel over dead, so he turned on Lois.
“What was that, Lois?” he demanded.
Lois held onto the desk to try and ground herself and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she said, but much more firmly. “He startled me, that’s all.”
“I’d hate to see what you do when someone really scares you, then!” Perry exclaimed. He paused, giving her a close look. Lois was still pale, and though she seemed to have been able to still most of her shaking, her fingers quivered as she let go of the desk and folded her arms around herself.
“It’s been a hard week,” Lois said, and her voice shook the slightest bit. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jimmy said nobly, though his voice was muffled through her now-stained handkerchief. “I get worse than this playing basketball with Clark every Friday.”
Somehow Lois doubted that. Despite his occasional clumsiness, Clark was more likely to hurt himself than those around him. She had a feeling that if Clark did indeed hit Jimmy bad enough to give him a bloody nose, Clark Kent would retire from basketball in a bumbling of guilt and apologies.
Crazy man.
Some things just happened. He shouldn’t take everything so personally!
For some reason, thinking about Clark stirred up anger from the ashes of her quivering heart, and color came back into her face as she felt reality come down around her, strong and firm. White, red, and black vanished behind the thin veil that kept them at bay.
“I—I think I’ll go wash up, chief,” Jimmy said, standing.
“Sorry, Jimmy,” Lois said, starting to feel like a broken record, but feeling like she needed to apologize again anyway.
“Really, Lois, it’s okay,” Jimmy insisted. “I mean, it’s been a hard week for everyone. Just forget about it. It’s fine.”
He left, leaving Perry and Lois alone.
Perry stepped forward and closed the door before turning back to Lois.
“You all right, Lois?”
Lois drew herself up and managed to look defensive. “I’m fine, chief.”
Perry sat down at his desk and gave her a long look. “Really, Lois.”
“So I’m a little jumpy,” Lois challenged. “So what? Anyone would be. You can’t blame me, Perry.”
“I’m not going to, and I doubt Jimmy is either,” Perry said, his tone placating. He opened a drawer on his desk and Lois tensed automatically, but he only drew out a slip of paper.
Duh, Lois. She thought with a mental shake. It wasn’t as if Perry was going to draw a gun out on her.
“Lois, I’ve got the name and number of a woman who works with people who have been through high-stress situations like this. I want you to give her a call and set up an appointment.”
Lois couldn’t believe it. “You’re sending me to a shrink?”
“No, not a shrink,” Perry said carefully. “Just someone to talk to.”
“I don’t need anyone to talk to.”
“I say you do. And if you want to stay on this story, you’ll be going to see her.” He pushed the paper across the table. “Within the week, Lois,” he said.
“But, Perry…”
“I can easily give this story to Ralph for good, Lois,” Perry’s stare was unwavering. Lois rolled her eyes, grabbed the paper, and followed in Jimmy’s footsteps, slamming the door behind her and making the glass cage of the editor’s office shake.
She was getting good at that.
She went back to her desk and started going through the files, trying to organize at least a little bit and trying to figure out where to start.
The ten men that had ended up dead in prison with Logram had nothing special on them—just the usual hoodlums dug up from fanatic corners of the U.S. Logram, however, Lois spent a little more time on.
He was from South Carolina. Graduated with a doctorate and did research for a while before heading to Metropolis with his wife and four kids. A perfect family. A perfect home. A perfect life.
And the four kids. The oldest was eleven, the youngest was five. Lois had talked to Henderson, who had met with the family, and none of the kids or the wife had seemed to have known a thing of Logram’s crimes. In fact, the five-year-old boy was an avid Superman fan, apparently, as Henderson mentioned in passing. Henderson had come somewhat late and the boy had trotted into the room wearing Superman pajamas with a towel wrapped around his shoulders and his underwear over the pajama pants.
Logram’s wife—his family—had had no idea.
Lois shivered.
You never could really know a person.
She worked on background for a time, then grew impatient and began calling down her contacts again. She spent an hour on the phone with everyone from Henderson, the mayor, and down to Bobby Bigmouth trying to track down where in the world McPheron and his government group disappeared to, but it led to nothing but dead ends.
Lois sat back after her latest useless lead some hours later and rubbed her head wearily. Despite her three cups of coffee already, her headache since early that morning was becoming hard to ignore.
Her phone rang. She glanced at it, annoyed at being disturbed, but then blinked as she saw the Caller ID.
“Lex Luthor, LexCorp.”
Great. The man was probably coming after her with flowers and sweet sentiments again. That might have been nice before this whole thing happened, but now it all just seemed pointless and vapid. She had work to do.
Not to mention, after spending so much time with Kal-El, the thought of spending time with any other man felt...empty.
Lois stifled that thought angrily. She didn’t need anyone. Not even Superman.
Liar.
Fine. Then she was going to find him and string him up by his ears until he talked, if she had to use kryptonite to do it.
The thought was vicious, but immediately a chill fell over her anger as she shivered. A shadow passed over her face and she blinked at the air for a moment, caught in memory, before gritting her teeth and forcing herself into motion.
She reached forward and grabbed the phone.
“Lois Lane, Daily Planet.”
“Lois, my dear, it’s Lex.”
She was not his “dear.” And did he always sound so condescending? He sounded so sickeningly sweet, after Superman’s gentle voice.
“Lex,” Lois deadpanned.
“Lois. I’ve been trying to call you all day.”
“I’ve been working.” Short and to the point.
“Ah, yes. No doubt you’re searching for our local superhero. Any sign of out caped blue scout?”
Lois didn’t know what to make of Lex’s casual tone.
“None,” Lois said. “Look, Lex, I know it’s been a while, but I’m really busy right now.”
“Lois, Lois, Lois. You’ve been missing, and I…well…” He gave a sort of chuckle. “I’ve been worried about you. How about dinner. Tonight.”
“Lex, I’m on a story,” Lois said.
“Of course. No doubt you’re quite busy.” That same tone again. He sounded almost…amused. “Busy tracking down Bureau 39 and their affiliates. Well, then. This Friday?”
“Lex…”
“I understand you’re tired, Lois, but come now. Working yourself to death will hardly help you recover from your latest ordeal. Friday. I really insist.”
“Not this week, Lex.”
“Next Friday then.”
“Fine, Lex, fine!” Lois said, almost desperate at this point. Her headache was growing to incredible proportions. “So long as nothing else comes up—”
“Friday. At six. I’ll pick you up.”
“Okay, Lex. I’ve got to go.”
“Very well, Lois. I’ll see you then.”
Lois hung up and knocked her forehead against her desktop three times—or, rather, against the four-inch-thick pile of paper that covered her desktop.
Her head hurt, but it wasn’t from the banging. She was tired, she was getting nowhere, and she had a dinner date with Lex Luthor in a little over a week. Before, the millionaire’s attention had been flattering, but now it just felt bothersome.
And it also felt a bit like she was going behind Superman’s back, but that was ridiculous. She will have found him by then, and if she needed to she could always come up with some excuse to dodge Lex’s advances, if she still didn’t feel like going with him.
“Lois! Called that councilor yet?” Perry shouted from across the room.
Lois was very tempted to shout something not-very-nice-or-proper back in return, but she swallowed it, and chased away the temptation to bang her head against her desk a couple more times. That would only make Perry pressure her more to go to this shrink of his, or whatever he chose to call it.
“No, chief.”
“Well, get on that. What have you been doing over there, lining up your date schedule? Get her on the phone and get an appointment by the end of today.”
Lois wanted to smack him. Instead, she picked up the phone, and barely managed not to snap the receptionist’s head off over the line as she set up an appointment for this Friday evening. An added excuse for if Lex tried to move their dinner up a week.
She stood up, dropping the phone on its stand with a pointed look at Perry, but he had the nerve to not even notice her exaggerated gesture. She rolled her eyes and stood to stretch the kinks from her legs.
She cast a glance outside. It was rush hour outside, and the muted television sets throughout the newsroom were showing traffic and some accident on the highway. The work day was almost over.
Another day with no Superman.
Lois stretched. The day had gone quickly, and her head felt like it had been used as a hammer. Her eyes hurt from reading so much print, and she was hungry. She hadn’t eaten breakfast, and lunch had been a quick stop at the vending machine. She needed to sleep on everything she had looked over, and tomorrow she was going to hit the streets.
Lois looked around the newsroom and stopped still as her eyes fell on Jimmy, and the man he was talking to. It actually took her a moment to recognize the man as none other than Clark Kent.
He looked horrible. His eyes were red-rimmed behind his glasses, though his hair was as carefully combed as Lois had ever seen it, and he wore each piece of his usual three-part suit. But all trace of any awkward bumbling was gone. He just looked tired.
...........
After perhaps the longest day of his life, Clark had gathered the notes on Bureau 39 that had been laid out carefully over his desk from before his capture and headed to the Daily Planet to deliver them in person. He didn’t know if there was anything of use that Lois didn’t already know, and he hadn’t really taken the time to sort through it, but at least he wouldn’t feel as if he were just leaving her drifting. And—though he tried to tell himself that it wasn’t a factor—he wanted to see Lois again before he left.
However, he had hardly stepped out of the elevator when he saw Jimmy Olsen, though he had almost not recognized him due to the large bruise that the young man sported across a swollen nose.
“J-Jimmy? What happened to you?”
Jimmy jumped, and his eyes widened. “CK! What are you doing here? The chief told us what happened. I thought you were heading to Smallville.”
“We’re catching a flight tomorrow morning,” Clark said, his voice weary and soft despite his attempt to put aside the grief for now. The bruise was dark and painful looking—and it looked painfully fresh. “Wh—What happened? That looks awful, Jimmy.”
Jimmy had fallen quiet for a moment, then reached up to touch the bruise gingerly. “Ah, well, it was nothing, Clark. Just ran into a file cabinet.”
Jimmy was an even worse liar than he was, Clark decided. “That’s one mean file cabinet,” he said, lifting his eyebrows. “Who was swinging it around?”
Jimmy gave him a wide-eyed stare, shrugged and opened his mouth to formulate another bad story, and Clark looked at him closely. “Really, Jimmy. What happened?”
Jimmy closed his mouth, frowned slightly, then shrugged again, but less dramatically this time. “Well, I guess you’re her partner, so it might be best to warn you, but I’m not blaming her at all, you know.”
“It was L-Lois?” Clark said, startled. He pushed up his glasses, automatically standing a little straighter.
“Well, I kind of came up behind her and startled her, that’s all. She’s just a bit jumpy.”
A bit jumpy? She must have knocked the kid flat with a hit to the face like that.
Just like the guard in the white room. The blood from his nose when Lois elbowed him. That and the soup on the wall had been the only break in that terrible white. That, and Lois.
But Jimmy’s blood wasn’t in the white room. In fact, besides the bruise, there was no blood at all.
But he didn’t like the bruise. It looked too much like the color of his arm, or his leg. Bruised deep—deeper than flesh and bone.
“You okay, CK?” Jimmy asked.
Clark nodded, stepping back slightly to feel the cold wall against his back. There. Let that ground him.
“Is she—is Lois okay?” Clark ventured. She attacked Jimmy? It was absolutely ridiculous, but then again, Clark was getting nervous just standing there by the elevator, as people walked past him without looking at him or even brushing against him.
They were both a mess.
“She says she’s fine. I’ve never seen her sit still for so long, though. Just been pouring over everything Ralph and I’ve got her. I said hi a couple times walking by, but I don’t even think she noticed me.” Jimmy frowned suddenly. “But here we are talking about Lois. Sorry, CK. You’ve had a hard day and here I am blabbing off about a little bruise.”
Clark didn’t correct him, seeing as it was technically Clark who had started the conversation off. He was surprised by the easy way that Jimmy had dismissed Lois’s actions. He would have thought that Lois would be in for a good deal of teasing.
But Jimmy must have realized that Lois didn’t need that right now. The young man clearly saw more than he made out he did.
“I’m really sorry about your dad. He seemed like a great guy.”
“He was, Jimmy,” Clark said, dropping his eyes. “Thank you.”
They stood there for a moment, Jimmy shifting awkwardly, then he clapped a hand on Clark’s shoulder, making him flinch slightly.
“Yeah, well, sorry for keeping you, CK.”
“It’s all right, Jimmy, I’ll…uh…just drop these off with Lois.” He lifted his head, searching for her, though he already knew exactly where she was. Even without his superpowers, he could just feel her, standing there, watching him over the loud noise of the newsroom.
Lois.
He quickly tore his eyes away, adjusting his glasses as he stepped down the stairs towards her.
“Clark. I thought you would already be in Smallville by now.”
“We…we’re flying out in the morning,” Clark said. He swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat. “I just…brought you my notes. You know, just in case anything comes in handy and all.” He shrugged, just looking at her through his windows, through his safeguard, through the frames that made him a clumsy farmboy rather than a superman in Lois’s eyes.
Lois looked at him, waiting, and Clark realized that he should probably give her his notes, which he was still holding under his arm and had made no move to retrieve.
“Oh. Sorry,” he said, lifting the papers. “It—it’s been a long day.”
Lois didn’t know what to say to that, so she just waited as Clark leafed through the binder. “I think this is everything I have on Bureau 39,” Clark said, not meeting her eyes. “Information on Trask, funds, past affiliations...” He trailed off. “I’m sorry I…that is, for leaving, Lois.”
“Don’t be silly,” Lois said, though her tone was somewhat softened by the man’s appearance. “It’s not your fault. Besides, it’s not as if I need you to figure out this story. I used to fly solo all the time, and you just see that I can do it again.”
Clark gave a weak smile at that. “Yeah…well, thank you, Lois.”
Lois wanted to snap at him for that. Whatever was he thanking her for? This was her job, and it wasn’t as if she were being kind to him. She still had work to do, and she was cold, mean, mad-dog Lane. No one should be thanking her right now.
Lois turned around and sat down at her computer and began paging through Clark’s notes.
“Uh…bye, Lois,” Clark said softly from behind her.
Lois didn’t look up, but just lifted a hand and gave a short wave to acknowledge and dismiss him as she got to work.
Clark hovered there for a moment, his eyes running over the smooth fall of her hair, her shoulders, the concentrated set of her entire being despite the weariness that had grown there throughout the day.
Two weeks and a day without seeing her. Could he do it?
He couldn’t allow himself to need her so much. He had to let her go, for both of their sakes.
He had to be strong, now more than ever.
Clark Kent left without a single word of farewell from his coworkers.
Lois continued to pour over Clark’s notes. They were annoyingly organized. Didn’t the man have anything better to do? Funds, profiles, background checks, and files on Trask and Bureau 39, all in neat order. Lois had seen most of it before, and paged through it relatively quickly, but then stopped as she ran across a financial listing near the back—in between the pages of Trask’s biography.
It was out of place, and that more than anything first drew Lois’s gaze. She pulled it out, glancing at it. It was a very thick bundle, paper-clipped together and dog-eared from being flipped through. It was a list of stores, companies, affiliations…and nothing she recognized as associated with Bureau 39. Clark’s normally neat handwriting was scrawled in the margins, circling, marking…there didn’t seem to be much order of it.
Ah. So maybe the man wasn’t as organized as he liked to think. He’d dropped some old notes of some sort into his perfect pile and given it to Lois by mistake.
Lois pulled it out, trying to recognize what past story it might be a remnant of.
She didn’t have to search far. There, at the top, was her answer.
LexCorp.
Lex? Clark Kent wasn’t still obsessed about digging up dirt on Metropolis’s local philanthropist?
“Give me a break,” Lois muttered, tossing it aside with the rest of Clark’s notes. She was not in the mood to be thinking about a farm boy’s ridiculous jealousy, even if his father just died. Some things just weren’t excusable, no matter what.
Lois sighed and turned to her computer to gather up as many files as she could to take home with her. She didn’t get far, however, before she paused. An envelope was slipped under the papers on the very corner of her desk, with just the corner peeking out. She pulled it out warily, noticing the lack of address, and opened it.
Lois—
I’m sorry for leaving so quickly the other day. I really am all right, even though it will be some time before I can get back to my normal business. Thank you again for everything. Please don’t worry about me.
K.L.
Behind the note fell out a small wad of money. Lois stared at the bills, stunned silence turning into fury. Was Superman actually trying to pay her for what had happened?
Don’t worry about him? Like she was some overstuffed mother hen that he could soothe! Well just watch her. She wasn’t worried. She was just doing her own jolly old business, no matter what brainless, insensitive…men dared think!
No. She was going to find out who was responsible. Not for him, but for her. After all, it was her job.
She stuffed the note and money back into the envelope and the whole mess into her purse. She shoved it under her desk and turned on her computer.
Superman had come here. When? Just barely, or before she had even come in today, and she just hadn’t noticed the letter earlier? Or had he come in, and walked right by her, and she hadn’t noticed? The thought that he might have been here made her heart ache. Why hadn’t he said something? Had anyone seen him?
She glanced around workplace, which was in full hum with the usual approaching-deadline bustle.
No. Of course not. If Superman dared step anywhere he would be mobbed by news people and citizens alike. That is, unless he wasn’t recognized. Surely he wasn’t still walking around in those too-small pajamas Lois had bought him. But no—surely the man had some spare clothes somewhere.
Where did he keep the spare clothes? Where did he stay himself? The note said that he wasn’t going to be back in his “normal business” for “some time.” What did that mean? He had flown to save Clark, hadn’t he? She didn’t know how his powers returned, so maybe he could fly, but wasn’t invulnerable yet or whatever. Who knew?
But at least he was okay. He had been here. He had touched the letter that she now held in her hand.
It made her heart settle slightly, even while she was filled with righteous indignation.
He was okay.
That was, until Lois got her hands on him.
“Jimmy!” Lois jumped up. The copyboy stopped short at her desk, in the middle of taking a too-big bite out of a large doughnut. She managed not to wince at the large bruise from her elbow. “Did you see anyone come by my desk earlier? Tall, dark-haired, a bit on the pale side?”
Jimmy struggled to swallow the large hunk of doughnut. He gave her an odd look. “You mean Clark?”
“I saw Clark,” Lois said impatiently. “I’m talking about someone else. No glasses.”
Jimmy frowned, still chewing. “I don’t know, Lois,” he said. “I mean, people come and go all the time, but really, besides Clark, I didn’t notice anyone particular.” He looked ready to go back to his doughnut, but paused long enough to give her a curious glance. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing,” Lois said, waving him away impatiently and sitting down. Maybe Superman had got his superspeed back, and no one had noticed the odd gust of wind his passing would have caused. “Get me one of those, will you? A chocolate one. With sprinkles. And some coffee too.”
“Magic word?” Jimmy prompted, taking another bite of his doughnut.
“Now, Jimmy, not in five minutes!” Lois snapped, not in the mood. Jimmy jumped to it.
“That works,” he said, heading off obediently. So much for special treatment after unintentionally becoming Lois Lane’s punching bag.
TBC…
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