For some reason my intenet's been dodgy all week, thus the triple shot of Men of Steele 14, but i think i fixed it.
also this is not a WIP i'll probably post a part per week. maybe more. enjoy.
i live for FDK!
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She had once been told long ago when she had been naïve and willing to listen to the wisdom of elders, that the human body-or rather human beings-in times of great stress were capable of superhuman feats of strength and speed. Witnesses to such feats could never explain the phenomenon, nor could the parties involved. Some might call it divine intervention. Others would simply chalk it up to an adrenaline rush; still others would say it was primitive survival instincts long forgotten by civilized man, brought out by extreme duress. Whatever it was, told her to move-as fast as she could- away from the stoop upon which she stood.
The first click was distant barely audible above the sounds of the street, the second however made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. By the time the third click landed on her ears, she was halfway down the block, and seeking shelter.
When asked later in life, how she knew what was coming, she would simply shrug. The likelihood of anyone surviving something like that was a billion to one. Of course she wasn’t just anyone, she was Lois Lane.
As she sat shaking in the back of the MFD engine sipping hot coco and wrapped in a warm blanket, the remains of Clark’s home smoldered in the street. Clark, who would be returning soon; returning to a pile of ash, and if he was luck y, maybe some of his personal possessions would be less burnt then others.
Doubtful though, according the Fire Marshall. Clark was one of the lucky ones, the two adjacent apartments and their occupants had not been so fortunate. The Wilson’s, Clark’s immediate neighbors, had been sound asleep when the explosion hit. Jeffery Wilson, Margery Wilson, and little Rebecca Wilson had all succumb to smoke inhalation. Flaming debris had blocked Rebecca’s bedroom door. With no where else to run she’d locked herself securely in her closet. That’s were the firefighters had found her body, wrapped in a blanket. Her little hands clutched a small stuffed bear to her chest.
His other neighbor’s Irene and Andrew Raymond had also suffered fallout from the blast. The young couple had made it out of the inferno alive, but a large support beam had clipped Andrew from the side leaving him in critical condition. Irene had needed oxygen from all the smoked she’d inhaled, but other then that she was fine.
At least as fine as someone with no home, and nothing to call there own could be.
Through it all Lois had remained stoic. She’d sheltered her emotions behind her journalistic detachment. Her cool exterior shattered when the wheeled out the gurney and a miniature body bag was loaded into the ambulance. She’d lost what was left of her dinner on the street, and fell to the sidewalk racked with violent sobs.
A police officer had helped her to her feet, and now she was sitting. Waiting. For what she didn’t know, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. And for that matter neither could anyone else.
“Miss Lane?”
Lois looked up, her head protesting the sudden movement. Standing at her shoulder stood the Fire Marshal, Quentin Summers. His eyes held sympathy, but Lois could tell that rage was simmering somewhere beneath the surface.
“Yes?”
“I’ve just had the chance to look over the scene, and my men and I were able to discover the origin of the fire.”
The little spark of reporter in her, that never quite went away, snapped her to attention. Normally fires weren’t front page news, especially if Superman wasn’t involved. But something told her there was a story here, and if anything Lois Lane always went with her gut.
She ran a steadying hand through her hair, and cleared her throat.
“What did you find out?”
“Well Miss Lane…I don’t know how well you and your partner know each other-“
“Clark is my best friend”: she said, a bit too acidly; though she meant every word.
“Well whoever did this is no friend of Mr. Kent’s. The evidence strongly suggests that Mr. Kent was the target of a failed assassination attempt.”
Lois was stunned. Who would want to kill Clark; sweet, goofy, farmboy, Clark had been nothing but kind to everyone he met. She could imagine someone trying to kill her, a bit too easily she concluded sadly, but not her mild mannered partner.
“If you don’t mind Ms. Lane Detective Leo has some questions to ask you.”
“Yeah…sure”
