[CHAPTER 3]
Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life. – Proverbs 4:23
Thursday
Five o’clock came around much too early for Lois, and she was standing in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee when she heard a knock at the front door. She opened the door to a Clark Kent who also looked like the morning had arrived too soon for his liking.
He was wearing dress pants and a button-up shirt without a tie. His tussled hair gave him a softer edge than the one she’d seen the day before.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Lois asked, stepping to the side to allow him to enter the apartment.
He hesitated at first, but then he nodded, obviously recognizing the need to inject some caffeine into his demeanor.
Lois poured a second mug of the brew and handed it to him, gesturing to the sugar and creamer on the counter.
“If someone would bring me my coffee every morning before I dressed, I would be very happy. It would change the day,” she muttered jokingly, returning to her mug.
“Did you see the coverage on that mudslide in the Caribbean?” she asked after a few minutes of both of them silently savoring their drinks.
“Yes, I saw it last night.” Clark grimaced – seeming to bring himself back from distant thoughts – and added, “…on TV.”
Lois found his addendum to be strange but didn’t say anything. “It must be horrible there,” she commented aloud, placing her empty mug in the sink.
“It was,” he replied automatically. “I mean, it is. You’re right. It looked horrible.” He moved to fix his tie, and awkwardly moved to smooth his shirt instead when he realized it wasn’t there.
Lois raised her eyebrows and picked up his empty mug, placing it in the sink next to hers. “Are you ready to go?”
At his nod she grabbed her purse and reached for her garment bag, but before she could remove it from the couch, Clark had taken it and was heading for the door. Shaking her head in mild exasperation, Lois followed and locked the door behind them.
Outside, she walked to the driver’s side door of Clark’s rental car and held her hand out for the keys. He looked confused for a moment before beginning to protest.
“Oh, uh, that’s probably not a good idea, Miss… um, Lois. You’re not on the paperwork and if we got pulled over…”
“We’re not going to get pulled over,” she admonished with a laugh. “I know these roads, and I know the speed traps. Hand ‘em over... besides, you look like one of those map-reading kinds. Am I right?”
He sheepishly shrugged in response.
“I thought so,” she said, smirking. “That makes you the navigator. We’ll make great time, I promise.”
~.~
Clark felt a gentle shake on his arm and slowly opened his eyes. When he glanced over to the driver’s seat, he was momentarily taken aback by the aesthetic vision Lois created with the sun shining brightly behind her, framing her in its rays. Strands of her hair tossed wildly in the wind flowing through the open window, having escaped from the messy ponytail she had styled at some point during the drive.
In this hazy world that existed between sleep and wakefulness, Clark’s gaze focused on the line of her neck, and as if acting with a will of its own, his left hand moved to replace a flailing strand. The sight of his arm rising from his lap snapped him back to attention, and he forced the wayward hand to his face instead, rubbing his eyes and brushing through his hair.
He cleared his throat and reached for the switch to move the seat upright.
Lois smiled and welcomed him back to the land of the living. “We’re here,” she announced. “Well, not here, here, but definitely close.”
Clark blinked at the clock. “We made it in four hours?” he asked incredulously.
“I told you we’d make good time if I drove,” Lois replied turning to face him long enough to grin triumphantly.
Clark cleared his throat. He was a little shaken by the fact that he hadn’t even realized that he’d fallen asleep. “Wow, okay, so it’s 9:30… How far away are we from Cyphren’s R&D facility?”
Lois gave him a sly look. “Do want to know mileage or time?”
The glint in her eye made him afraid to know the answer to either. “Uh…”
Laughing, Lois winked and pressed down the accelerator a little more.
~.~
Their tour guide, Bethany, welcomed them to the R&D facility and handed them each an orange visitor’s badge and a press packet.
“Cyphren Chemical is the nation’s leading manufacturer of plastics and has seen a growth in its stock value of over 30% in the last five months alone,” Bethany began, leading them over to a flat screen display in a corner of the vast lobby. “We are on the brink of releasing a new Public Relations campaign and were quite pleased that The Daily Planet was interested in doing a story so early in the process.”
As she turned to enter some commands in the touchpad next to the screen, Clark sent a questioning look in Lois’s direction. The expression she returned indicated that he should play along.
“This is actually one of a series of commercials that will be running in a few weeks,” Bethany explained as a video began playing on the screen.
The company’s name and logo faded onto the screen accompanied with the background sound of a single heartbeat. Lively music using the beat as a baseline began playing as images of Cyphren produced products being used flashed across the screen. There was a shot of an infant holding a baby bottle with milk filling the plastic insert and then a close-up of a smiling child on brightly colored playground equipment at a day care center. Next, the screen showed a life-saving IV being installed in an emergency room, right before the scene switched to the headgear on a collegiate wrestler. From there, the focus became the baton as it was passed between two runners from the Olympic four-by-one team, and then to the braces on a smiling pre-teen.
The images kept transitioning into one another with clever editing techniques, morphing each plastic object into another until finally settling into the pacemaker on a smiling grandfather. The camera zoomed out to show the elderly man as he posed on a golf course with a mountain landscape at his back. Once again, the music trimmed down to the single heartbeat, and the tagline appeared in lively script on the bottom of the screen area. It read simply, ‘Plastic: The Ingredient of Life.’
Bethany smiled as the video ended. “Cyphren employs engineers and scientists at the top of their fields to create products of the greatest quality for consumers. If you come this way, I will show you where the magic takes place.”
The two reporters were shown a number of labs and sample production spaces that had been created to show the processes that workers went through to produce the products. Following a well-planned agenda, the tour was informative without revealing any trade secrets or giving glimpses of restricted areas.
As they were being led through a pristine hallway, Clark brought up the new production technique.
“Wow, I’m impressed, you really have done your homework,” Bethany remarked. “The new system was just put into place at our main plant. The new technique uses a revolutionary binding compound that is both cheaper and faster to produce. Without a doubt, it will change the face of the industry as we know it. Things are going so well, in fact, that along with the PR campaign, Cyphren will be releasing 300,000 more shares of its stock to the market.”
“How recent was this implementation?” Lois inquired.
Bethany looked thoughtful for a moment. “I really hate to guess but I think that they moved it to the Metropolis plant around six months ago after first testing it here.”
“Is that a normal introductory timeframe for new techniques?”
“I really wouldn’t know. I’ve been employed here for about a year and a half, and this has been the only implementation I’ve personally seen. I would have to assume that it is, though.”
“What can you tell us about the company’s disposal methods?” Clark asked as they neared the lobby again.
“Not much, I’m afraid, and unfortunately there aren’t any scientists available at this time to answer your questions more thoroughly. Usually when I give these tours we have them along for the final Q&A, but with such short notice we had to do the best we could. I’m no expert, but I’ll try to explain what I do know,” Bethany replied, apologetically.
“When the chemicals are combined to make different compounds, there are usually byproducts created during the process. Depending on the nature of the byproduct, additional processes are employed to neutralize them for adequate disposal. As bizarre as it may seem, there are some reactions that have resulted in a byproduct of pure water!” She paused and smiled as if waiting for the two reporters to join in on her amazement. It was obviously a well rehearsed speech.
“While I wouldn’t encourage drinking it, it is quite harmless. We have contracts with waste companies to take the other neutralized solutions and dispose of them as required by law. These final products range from liquids, to powders, to gaseous substances.”
“Is there any way we could get more information about this new compound?” Lois asked innocently. “I mean, with the impact you say it’s going to have, our readers are going to want as much information as possible.”
“I’ll tell you what,” the tour guide conceded, “I’ll call and see if you can meet with one of the resident scientists. I don’t know what the company will be able to release since we are still working under patent protection. As far as I know, the patent will protect the particulars of the process from being released for at least twenty years. That said, it is unlikely that you’ll be able to get the details, but it might be enough to help you with your article.”
“That would be great,” Lois said, handing the other woman a business card with her cell phone number scrawled on the back. “We’re going to be in town until tomorrow afternoon, so if that meeting can be arranged before then, we would appreciate it.”
Bethany took the card and nodded. “I’m really sorry that we weren’t able to accommodate you today. It really is unfortunate that the senior staff happened to be out at the time of your visit.”
“Unfortunate,” Lois repeated dryly in agreement.
Promising to call them with the details if she could get a meeting set up, Bethany led them to the main doors of the lobby and retrieved their guest passes.
~.~
After the tour, they moved on to a tourist-influenced café on Main Street, the location Clark had arranged for the meeting with Dr. Wallace Kwolek’s wife, Stephanie. Relieved when Lois agreed to sit at an outside table, Clark situated his chair to get the most of the available sunlight.
He had been occupied with the mudslide until four o’clock that morning, at which point he had raced back to his hotel for a quick shower before heading out to pick Lois up at her apartment. It was rare that he was faced with exhaustion, but he knew that the rare feeling had to be his current disposition. It was the only thing that could explain how he’d almost let his guard down earlier in the car with Lois.
Clark lived his life within a set of boundaries. Stroking the hair of a dangerous stranger was not within those limits.
“I think the eagle has landed,” Lois said, interrupting his thoughts.
“The eagle?”
Lois rolled her eyes and nodded in the direction of a woman crossing the street. “Do you know what Mrs. Kwolek looks like?”
Clark shook his head. “We’ve never met.” He hadn’t even met Dr. Kwolek; their one conversation had been a rushed telephone call.
“Well, I think that’s her,” Lois said. She settled against the back of her chair and sipped her designer coffee.
Clark took another glance in the approaching woman’s direction. “Why?”
Speaking over the rim of her cup, Lois explained, “She’s got bags under her eyes, so it’s obvious she’s been spending her nights worrying about something, and she missed fastening the first and third buttons on her sweater. She’s anxious… and she’s trying to look for somebody without *looking* like she’s trying.”
Clark turned back to Lois and studied her in mild amazement. He had enhanced vision and hadn’t even picked up on those things.
Lois met his gaze with a soft smile playing on her lips. “It’s my job to look for inconsistencies.”
The hairs on the back of Clark’s neck rose to attention, but before he could analyze the reaction, the woman they had been watching reached the table.
“Mr. Kent?”
Pulling his eyes away from Lois, Clark pushed his chair back and rose. “Mrs. Kwolek? Hello.” He shook her hand and then reached to pull a chair out for her. “Please, join us.”
Stephanie Kwolek lowered into the offered chair and shot a nervous glance in Lois’s direction.
“This is Lois Lane of the Daily Planet,” he introduced. “We’re working together on your husband’s story.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kwolek,” Lois offered.
“Call me Stephanie. Thank you, it’s nice to meet you too.”
Once the introductions had been made, business began. Stephanie Kwolek described her husband’s strange departure the day before. It wasn’t unusual for Wallace to take unplanned trips for his work with Cyphren, and occasionally, he’d be required to attend conferences or meetings for different projects. What made this particular trip stand out in Stephanie’s mind was the fact that he’d been accompanied by a Cyphren driver *inside* of the house, when normally they waited in the car.
“Was there anything other than the driver that was strange about your husband’s departure?” Lois asked.
“Not that I can remember,” Stephanie replied.
The conversation paused as their waiter returned with their lunch orders.
“Wallace packed an overnight bag, came back out to the living area and kissed me goodbye. He and the driver got into the Towne car, and that was it.”
“I don’t understand,” Clark entered. “How did you know to call me?”
Stephanie picked at the dark lettuce of her salad distractedly. “A little while after he’d gone, I went to the bedroom and saw that the bedspread had been pulled back on my side of the bed. He must have known I would come and straightened it.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a small manila envelope. “This was under the pillow.”
Clark took the offered envelope from the woman and saw that his name, title, and fax number were scribbled on the front. Opening the brass clasp that held the envelope closed, he peered inside.
With a frown he looked from Stephanie to Lois.
Lois arched an eyebrow. “What is it?”
He tipped the small sachet over his hand and caught the little key that tumbled out onto his palm.
“It’s the key to a safe-deposit box I didn’t know my husband had,” Stephanie told them. “When I went to the bank, I was told that I couldn’t access the contents because I wasn’t on the list.”
Lois tilted her head. “Why would you give it Clark?”
“Because his name *was* on it.”
~.~
Forty-five minutes later, Lois and Clark exited the Mission Savings and Loan Bank of New Troy with matching expressions of confusion. In his hand, Clark held a quart-sized plastic bag filled with small scraps of paper.
“Ice cream,” Lois announced.
Clark’s frown deepened as he failed to understand her meaning. “What?”
Lois pointed across the street to the neighboring strip mall. “Ice cream helps me think – especially if it’s chocolate.”
Before Clark could respond, a loud shout drew their attention to a worksite a little further down the block on the same side of the street as the bank. Workhorses striped yellow and orange surrounded an open manhole where two men in hard hats were urgently attempting to pull another from the hole.
Lois sprinted down the sidewalk, seeing that other passer-bys were doing the same. She was relieved to see that a few of them were already on their phones attempting to alert the local authorities.
“It’s going to blow,” the rescued man was saying, “and Frank’s still down there!”
After pulling their colleague a safe distance from the hole, the men started toward it again, approaching with their heads diverted from the thick smoke that had begun to billow from the opening. An explosion caused the ground to shake, and they all halted in their tracks, obviously concerned about the stability of the gas lines below the ground.
A few seconds later, before the workers had even come to a plan of action, the smoke dissipated greatly. Lois’s mouth opened in surprise as she saw another hard hat emerge from below street level, followed by a grime-covered face. The workers scrambled to pull who must have been the aforementioned Frank the rest of the way out.
“Did you see that?” Lois voiced in amazement, turning to get Clark’s reaction. Her awed expression dissolved into one of puzzlement when she didn’t see him anywhere around her. With a quirked eyebrow, she turned back to face the scene. The workers were surrounding Frank and patting his back with concern. One of them held out a bottle of water.
Suddenly, Frank looked up and pointed across the crowd. “He… he… *cough* It was hi…” the rest of his words dissolved into a stream of ragged coughs.
Following the direction the man was pointing made Lois turn around. She jumped when she saw that Clark had somehow suddenly appeared behind her. “Where did you…” She stopped and took a step back, sweeping a glance down his body. “*What* happened to you?”
Clark’s previously clean suit was covered with dirt.
“I lost my balance when the explosion hit,” he explained, trying to brush some of the dirt off to no avail. “I fell into that pile of dirt next to the truck.”
Lois turned her head and saw the pile of dirt he was referring to. The crease in her forehead didn’t ease up. Without saying anything, she turned her head from the dirt back to Clark, and then from Clark to Frank. Frank was no longer pointing across the crowd, his focus understandably back on breathing. Sirens filled the air as the paramedics and fire trucks arrived on the scene.
Shaking her head, Lois cleared the frown from her face. She took in Clark’s appearance again and laughed. “I take it you haven’t been on many ships, Clark. You have to roll with the ground swells or they’ll knock you off your feet every time.”
Still brushing at his suit with equally grimy hands, Clark merely grunted in reply.
“Yeah, that’s not coming out,” Lois observed. “Let’s go to the hotel so you can change.”
~.~
Lois glanced over her shoulder and smirked. Clark was standing against the far wall of the hotel lobby holding his soiled suit coat folded over his arm. She had suggested that solution when he’d refused to come inside with his clothes in their current state. Even having done that much, he still wouldn’t approach the front desk with her. Lois feared that he was a little too uptight for his own good.
“Yes, Ma’am, can I help you?”
Lois turned back around to face the desk. The clerk assisting her was a young blonde woman with a polite smile. Her name tag proclaimed that she was Sherry and happy to be of service. “Reservations for Lois Lane and Clark Kent. We should have two rooms.”
Sherry glanced in Clark’s direction and her demeanor seemed to brighten even more. Lois arched an eyebrow at her apparent reaction to them having *two* rooms.
“Of course,” the clerk replied happily. She began tapping the keys on her keyboard. When she read the screen output, she faltered. “Oh, your reservations were assigned a late check-in.”
Lois frowned. “We didn’t request a late check-in.”
Sherry smiled broadly. Somewhere in her training she must have been taught that smiling was the answer to every problem. “By chance, did you make your reservations after six o’clock yesterday evening?”
Lois’s shoulders drooped. She had a feeling about where this line of questioning was going. Ilium Heights was a popular destination for many people all year round.
Sherry guessed Lois’s answer from her expression. “Let me see what I can do… maybe we can *unassign* them,” she offered in a conspirational tone.
Lois forced herself to wait patiently. She knew that arguing with Sherry really wouldn’t help the situation… though it *might* make her feel better. After flicking another glance over her shoulder to see how Clark was faring, she had to roll her eyes. He was guarding their luggage stoically.
“I was afraid of this,” Sherry announced after a brief typing spiel. “The rooms haven’t even been checked out of yet. You’re actually here earlier than the time for regular check-ins.”
Lois silently laughed in amusement. This was the first time she’d ever been penalized for arriving somewhere early. Normally she was late to everything. “Arggh,” she groaned. “What if we pretended that I don’t have a reservation… Hi, I’d like two rooms, please.”
Sherry laughed, “Unfortunately, we don’t have two rooms. We don’t have *any* rooms, in fact.”
“This is a hotel… You’re telling me that you have don’t have *any* vacancies at all?”
Sherry gave her a sympathetic look before reaching for the keyboard again. As she typed, she explained the situation, “There’s a really big conference in town and all the rooms are booked. I just checked this a minute ago so I know that we don’t…” She trailed off in surprise as something appeared on her screen. “We have a room.”
Lois patted the counter top happily. “See?! Be nice to the Universe and the Universe responds… or something like that.”
Sherry couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, but you needed two rooms…”
“It’s okay,” Lois entered. “We need whatever you have available right now.”
“Well,” Sherry said with a grimace, “At least it’s a suite.”
~.~
Clark opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the main area of the hotel suite. As soon as he did, though, he abruptly stepped backwards, returning to the bathroom. His exit had interrupted Lois in the middle of changing her clothes. The image of her wearing only unfastened dark jeans and a black bra was now burned onto his corneas. At that moment, he couldn’t deny that she was attractive. He would begin the denial when his mind was clearer.
As he waited for the intensity of the memory to fade, his annoyance piqued. Had she not heard him shut off the shower? She should have been expecting him to come out of the bathroom at any moment. Now, he was fully dressed and standing in a steamy bathroom – stuck waiting for Lois to do her part.
To start with, Clark hadn’t been pleased to hear about the room situation Lois had arranged – this incident only supported his irritation. Setting his jaw, he pulled the door open again.
“I’m starting to think you’re right,” Lois announced when he came into her view.
Clark was relieved to see that Lois had donned a white tee-shirt. A black zip-up hoodie was tied around her waist.
“Right about what?” he asked.
“Right about this story reaching higher up than the company.” She turned to face him and pointed to the desk.
She had emptied the scraps of paper from the plastic bag and spread them across the surface. Each strip looked like it had seen the underside of a shredder.
“If it is what it looks like,” Lois began, “I’m guessing that Dr. Kwolek didn’t have permission to take these documents from the company.” She picked up one of the strips. “And if he went through all of the trouble to put them in a security box with your name on it, he must have expected that he would be in a little danger. He obviously didn’t think he would be able to get these to you on his own.”
Clark stepped forward and picked up a piece of paper. From what he could tell, they were looking at pieces of paper with parts of chemical symbols, chains, and compounds on them.
Lois put the paper she was holding back into the plastic bag. “It’s too bad we’ll probably never know how these go back together,” she said with a sigh.
Clark took a moment to scan the rest of the papers. He saw that some were different weight grades and some had different inks. “You know what? I think I’d like to give it a try.”
Lois gave him a surprised look. “You would?”
He shrugged, feeling a little awkward under her searching gaze. “I’m pretty good at puzzles.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Puzzles come in boxes that have pictures on the cover so you know what you’re trying to make. This,” she said, waving a hand over the desktop, “is needle and haystack stuff.”
“I grew up on a farm.”
A smile spread across Lois’s face. “Of course you did. Well, by all means, knock yourself out.” She continued to collect the papers to return them to the bag. “Later, though. Right now, we have to go.”
Clark handed her the scrap he was holding. The next phase of their recon mission was to go out to Cyphren’s runoff area to collect water and soil samples.
“Oh, you’re going to need to bring your overnight bag,” Lois informed him a few minutes later when she had finished refilling the plastic baggie. “We’re not staying.”
Clark felt a slight rush of relief. They would be getting their separate rooms after all. Sure, the suite had a living area with a pullout couch, but still… it was just too close for comfort.
Lois continued, unaware of his attitude shift, “I figured we’d just get back on the road after we get the samples.”
Clark stopped in mid-stride. “Back on the road? What about the interview Bethany is setting up for tomorrow?”
She looked up from the garment bag she was repacking and smirked. “I asked for that so they would *think* we were staying overnight. This way, they won’t expect us to be staking out the main plant in Metropolis *tonight*.”
Clark blinked. “Staking out… When did we decide that?”
Lois’s brow creased and she began nibbling on her lower lip. “I didn’t mention that? I thought I did… Oh, well. You ready?” She stood and pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
“I guess so,” Clark replied, reaching for the handle of his own bag and following her to the door. “Won’t it be a bit suspicious when we check out an hour after we checked in?”
“No,” Lois said simply, turning to face him as the door to the room closed at his back, “because we’re going to make use of the hotel’s fantastic Express Checkout service.”
“What about our other room?”
Lois smiled slyly and stepped close to him. “There is no other room,” she said in a low voice, reaching an arm to his waist level. “I told the front desk we’d be busy.”
With a wink, she hung the “Do Not Disturb” sign that she’d been holding on the doorknob, and then stepped back.
Clark let out a slow breath before moving to trail her down the rear stairwell.
~.~
“Do you always carry evidence containers in your purse?”
Lois smirked. Not only had she provided collection vessels during their earlier search of Cyphren’s runoff, she had supplied latex gloves, tweezers, and a soil brush.
“It’s a bag… not a purse. Purses are for dinner dates and shopping trips. A *bag* is a work tool. So, yes, when I have my bag, I carry a kit.”
They were sitting in the rental car outside of the Metropolis plant, having driven back to the city after gathering their samples. Lois had relinquished the keys to Clark for the return trip, seeing as they didn’t have a distinct timeline to keep, but she later regretted the decision. Clark did the exact opposite of aggressive driving. The memory caused Lois to twiddle her thumbs with more abandon.
To distract herself from grabbing Clark’s knee and forcing his foot harder on the accelerator, Lois had tried to get him to open up about his travels. Unfortunately, he hadn’t wanted to talk about anything other than the story…
…Which was how they were at the Cyphren plant at 10:30 that night; nursing the tail end of a long day – and she still hadn’t gotten her ice cream.
“Have you always been an animal rights activist?” Lois asked lightly, hoping to extend the banter-like line of questioning.
“I just think that humans aren’t the only things that deserve respect,” he answered gruffly. “I’m not an activist.”
When she saw the way his jaw tightened, she withheld a sigh and went back to watching the night pass outside of her window. Her attempt at humor had once again fallen short with Clark Kent.
Earlier that day, she had suggested taking a frog from the Cyphren property so that it could be examined for chemical poisoning. Clark had immediately become hostile to the idea. Then she’d asked if he’d been the type of student who fainted during middle school biology frog dissection. His response had been to stalk off angrily, leaving her wondering what it was that she had said. Now, thinking back to the way she had teased him at the hotel, Lois was wondering if she was pushing him too hard. It was her natural personality to be playful, especially with people who had sticks up their asses, but she feared she might need to tread lighter with Kent. He apparently had no give.
Her left eyebrow arched in response to her thoughts. Lois Lane never backed down from a challenge.
“We’ve got movement,” Clark announced, drawing Lois’s attention to the large semi that was sitting at the loading docks behind the plant.
“Finally,” she said leaning forward. Even *she* knew that she wasn’t the most patient person. “We know that they’ve been using the new processes for at least 6 months now. We need to identify those byproducts.”
Clark nodded in agreement. “We’ll see where they are dumping them and then get the samples.”
They watched as plant workers unhooked the hose connected to the semi and patted the side. The driver gave the thumbs up and pulled out of the dock area.
Clark engaged the engine and they trailed the truck as it drove through the Industrial Sector and towards the Harbor.
Lois tilted her head in surprise when the truck pulled into the fenced off area surrounding the loading dock of an industrial building. “I guess it would have been too easy for them to have been dumping it in the water.”
Clark stopped the car and gave her an odd look. Lois merely shrugged in response, slid her arms into her black hoodie and zipped it up. Thirty minutes later, the truck left the dock without its trailer.
“Where are you going?” he asked when she opened the passenger door.
“We need to get those samples.”
Clark pulled the key from the ignition and jumped out of the car anxiously. “How do you plan to do that?”
Lois turned to him with an arched eyebrow, smiling as she pulled the hood of the sweatshirt over her head.
Clark sighed. He was beginning to recognize the look. “That’s a bit unorthodox, don’t you think? Breaking and entering is against the law.”
“Sometimes rules needs to be massaged a little in order to get to the truth.”
“It’s dangerous to both your health and your liberty.”
Lois huffed impatiently. “I’m a little inclined to think that societal needs are higher up on the hierarchy scale than personal ones.” She started walking toward the fence.
Clark grabbed her arm before she was able to take her third step. “Society makes the rules,” he protested.
“Well, in that case, you have to make the decision on principles.” She glanced down at the hand on her arm but didn’t pull away. “My principles are truth and justice. What are yours?”
Clark let go of her arm and ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t believe we are having a discussion about the ethical principle of breaking and entering.”
Lois rolled her eyes and pulled the hood off of her head. “Fine, you win.” She turned and started walking toward the front of the building.
“Now, where are you going?”
Lois turned her head to reply over her shoulder as she walked, “To knock on the front door.”
~.~
tbc
