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Lois grinned as she offered him the Danish. He took a bite, and she burst out laughing.

"What?" he asked.

"You have a flake of pastry on your lip."

Clark lifted his hand to wipe it away, but Lois caught his wrist and restrained him. She then slowly leant forward and lifted the flake with her tongue.

His laugh was an attempt to hide the constriction in his throat. "You *are* trying to drive me crazy, aren't you?"

She kissed him - gently, chastely. "Sorry," she said - though her grin was incompatible with any semblance of contrition.

Clark smiled. "Don't be sorry," he told her. "I'm willing to risk a lot worse than craziness if it means being with you."


Part 39

"Time to call it a day, Clark," Perry said.

Clark looked up from the story he was editing for the weekend edition. "I've nearly finished, Chief."

"Leave it," Perry said. "There'll be time tomorrow."

Clark hesitated. It was too late now to squeeze in an early morning visit to Lois - she would have already left her unit - and the thought of going home to his empty apartment held little appeal.

"Leave it," Perry repeated. He leant against Clark's desk - his body language clear that he was settling in for a longer exchange.

Clark saved his story and closed the file. "How have you been feeling, Chief?" he asked.

"It's not me I want to talk about," Perry said. "It's you."

Clark looked up at his editor. "Me?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Now, son," Perry said with a deep chuckle. "No one becomes a good newsman without developing the ability to observe ... and since you've been back in Metropolis, there's been something amiss."

Clark opened his desk drawer and dropped his pens and notepad in there.

"My guess is that it has something to do with the woman you met in Australia."

Clark leant back in his chair and contemplated Perry, realising there was no getting out of this. "Yes," he admitted.

"Is it over?" Perry asked. "Have you decided that you can't be together because of the distance involved? Did she end it?"

"No," Clark said quickly. "No. It's ... well, I miss her."

"Ah," Perry said, nodding sagely. "So it's serious?"

"Yeah, it's serious."

"I'm sorry I asked you to come back. I didn't realise you -"

"I know that, Perry," Clark said. "It's OK - I had to come back eventually anyway."

"You weren't thinking about staying in Australia permanently?"

"No."

"Is she going to move to Metropolis?"

Clark shrugged. "Not any time soon. We haven't made any decisions."

"I wish I'd known."

"Even if you'd known, what were you going to do?" Clark asked. "Allow Alice to leave you? Walk out on the Planet?"

"No," Perry admitted. "But I wish there was something I could do to help."

An idea that had been floating nebulously in Clark's mind for a few days suddenly took shape. "There is something," he said.

"Name it."

"I have to be in Melbourne for the 16th of September."

"And I've already said that's fine."

"Would it be OK if I took a slightly longer weekend at the end of next week?" Clark asked.

"You want to go back twice? Next week *and* in September?"

Clark nodded.

Perry chuckled. "Whoa, she must mean a lot to you if you're willing to fly to Australia twice in two weeks."

"She means *everything* to me," Clark asserted.

Perry's humour died. "Sure, that's OK," he said. "You have a lot of leave built up. Go ahead and book the flights; let me know which days you'll be away."

"Thanks, Chief."

"Lucky you're a good flier, huh?"

"Yeah, lucky."

Perry straightened from Clark's desk. "What's her name?"

"Lois," Clark said. "Lois Lane."

Perry grinned. "I hope it works out for you, son." Then he wheeled around and strode out of the newsroom.

"Thanks, Perry," Clark called.

The editor waved in acknowledgement and kept walking.

Clark went to a travel website. Half an hour later, he'd found one flight that arrived in Melbourne on the morning of the rally and another that left late the following evening.

A wave of excitement swept over him as he finalised the booking. He could be with Lois for the rally ... and Hawthorn's game against Melbourne. If Hawthorn didn't make the finals and it turned out to be their final game, he could be there for her ... really be there. Be at the game. Be at the rally. Take her out. They wouldn't have to hide in her unit.

He composed a message to Lois on his cell but cleared it without sending it. He wouldn't tell her. He would keep it as a surprise.

Clark shut down his computer and walked out of the Planet office, his mind leaping ahead to the moment when Lois first saw him ... and realised that they would have two days together - openly together.

||_||

Lois's week consisted of five days that blended homogenously in her weary mind. Each day, she rose early and went to the hired hall where Operation Payback had established their headquarters. Much of her time was spent on the phone - answering questions ... outlining the strategy to rebuild all facets of the Hawthorn Football Club ... dealing with the animosity of those who believed Operation Payback was jeopardising Hawthorn's only chance of survival.

Being a volunteer enabled her to leave in good time to be in her unit should Clark be able to make the trip to Melbourne. He'd come three days this week, although Wednesday's visit had been cut short by a television report of a loaded passenger jet with engine trouble trying to get to Hawaii to attempt a landing.

Clark had looked questioningly to Lois. "Go," she had said. "Go - they need you."

So, he'd gone.

And footage taken from inside the plane of the caped superhero guiding the aircraft to safety had headlined news bulletins across the world.

During their fragmented hours together in her unit, they'd talked about Superman's rapidly spreading fame. Lois had smiled inwardly at Clark's country-boy innocence when he bemoaned that there didn't seem to be a way to help people and avoid all the fanfare.

They also talked about the progress of Operation Payback. The Hawthorn board had been vocal in pushing their message, but the feeling of the volunteers was that they had made ground. Slowly, they believed, the tide was turning from 'we can't survive' to 'can we survive?'

Clark told her about his work at the Planet - about dividing his time between being Perry's assistant editor and chasing leads on the murder case he was investigating.

She told him news from the footy world as the finals drew ever closer.

They discussed their wedding - trying to find a realistic balance between their euphoria that it was so close and their impatience that the days crawled so slowly. Superman had visited the Metropolis Star office on three occasions to check Linda's plans and ensure she didn't move too far outside the wishes of the bride and groom. So far, she'd seemed remarkably accommodating.

But always, their time together would end, and, with bleak reluctance, Clark would kiss Lois and disappear with a gust of breeze. The moments after that were the darkest of all - alone ... and with long Clark-less hours stretching before her. The whiff of his cologne still hung in the air ... and the memory of his kiss lingered on her mouth ... and, if she listened really carefully, she could almost hear the soft tones of his voice. Always, his presence was slow to disperse.

On Friday evening, Lois's mobile phone beeped as she unlocked the door to her unit. Her heart sank. Clark had never messaged to say he was coming - it was always bad news. She slipped the phone from her bag, read the two-word message - 'Emergency sorry' - and disconsolately shut her door.

Five minutes later, she was standing at the open door of her fridge and trying to decide what to eat. George's daughter had had a baby and he'd closed his fish-and-chip shop for a three-day weekend to enable him to visit her. Lois hadn't been able to summon any enthusiasm for trying somewhere else, so she had come home.

Hoping, she admitted now, that Clark would arrive with something exotic and tantalising from a faraway place.

Instead, she was alone.

And not really hungry.

She slumped onto the couch and turned on the television.

The gardening show that preceded the footy telecast was lauding the merits of using ground covers as a means for conserving water. She muted the television and stared absently at the screen.

She wanted Clark ... but even had they been married, she would still be alone right now.

How could they be married and live on different sides of the world? How were they going to manage to spend time together when they had to accommodate two jobs, never-ending emergencies requiring the powers of a superhero, and different time zones? How long until the snippets of time together - within the confines of her unit - simply wouldn't be enough?

What sort of a relationship could they have when she couldn't mix with any of his friends in Metropolis and he couldn't be seen in Melbourne?

The footy began, but Lois didn't turn on the sound. She mechanically followed the play as her mind churned through the practicalities of their situation.

Eventually - someone had to relocate.

And, whatever happened to Hawthorn, it was probably going to be her.

Should she simply go? Now?

Should she stop fighting for Hawthorn? Stop fighting for the career she had carved out with hard work and bull-headed perseverance? Stop fighting for the relationships she had built with the Wiltons, and her friends, and the blokes at the paper?

Stop fighting for her dream?

The four quarters of football slipped by almost unnoticed. Ten minutes before the end of the game, Lois turned off the television and rose from the couch. She still hadn't eaten - she couldn't face food. Instead, she prepared for bed.

When she slipped between the cold sheets, Lois tried not to think of how wonderful it would be to have Clark's eyes to warm it for her. Or his body.

She wanted him.

She wanted him to hold her.

But in his world, it was nine o'clock Friday morning, and, assuming the emergency had been dealt with, Clark Kent was working at the Daily Planet.

||_||

Superman sat on the seat, careful to arrange his cape so it didn't pull on his neck. There was an assortment of microphones on the table in front of him. He looked up to the pack of waiting news hounds.

Linda King was front and centre. Congregated around her was a throng of reporters from far-flung newspapers across the country.

Everyone wanted a piece of Superman.

Clark sighed and wished Lois was here. He'd called this press conference with only an hour's notice and, knowing it was the middle of the night in Melbourne, had accepted that he would be doing it alone.

He cleared his throat as his eyes travelled over the gathered crowd. Eduardo Friaz was the Planet's representative - Mayson was notably absent. "Thank you for coming," Clark said, hoping his words conveyed a self-assurance he wasn't sure he possessed.

A cacophony of voices rose, and Clark raised his hand to silence them.

"I will make a statement," he said firmly. "Then I will allow a short time for questions."

A few voices rose again, and Clark stared in their direction, hoping to make it clear that this was going to be done in an orderly fashion. They fell quiet, and he took a deep breath as he glanced at the notes he held in his hand.

"On behalf of Ultra Woman, I want to thank the many people who have wished us well in our forthcoming marriage. We greatly appreciate your kind words."

Clark paused, wondering if he needed to expand this point further. He decided to reiterate it later.

"However, earlier today, the outcome of a rescue was threatened by people wanting to speak with me personally. This necessitated a number of police officers who, instead of assisting with the injured, were required to restrain crowds from invading the area. While I want to stress that both Ultra Woman and I have been touched by the interest in our wedding, it is imperative that no one from the public approach me when I'm occupied with a rescue operation."

Clark paused, and more voices rose to fill the gap. Again, he raised his hand, and again, the questions subsided.

He laid his notes on the table and resolved to speak from his heart.

"When I decided to use my powers for the benefit of many, I was unsure of the reaction I would receive. I expected suspicion ... perhaps even rejection due to my differences. Instead, from the public, I have received gracious acceptance and a heart-warming welcome. Perhaps, if you were to try to imagine being the only human on another planet, you could begin to understand the depths of my gratitude for the friendship you have extended to me."

Clark looked around the faces of the gathered press. A man he didn't know had raised his hand, and Clark nodded to him.

"Will Ultra Woman make another appearance before the wedding?" he asked.

"I ... I'm not sure," Clark said. "We haven't discussed that."

"I think the people have made it clear they would very much enjoy seeing Ultra Woman again," Linda King said. She couldn't have looked prouder if she had personally engineered Clark's entire relationship with Lois.

"I can't agree to anything without having first checked with Ultra Woman," he said.

"Good move," a male reporter said. "You learn quick, buddy."

Linda spoke over the burble of laughter. "Perhaps we can organise a reception. We could invite eminent Metropolis identities and -'

"No," Clark said quickly. "I will speak to Ultra Woman, and when we have decided, I will inform everyone."

His slight emphasis on the final word drew a fleeting scowl from Linda, but she recovered quickly. He raised his head, inviting other questions. His eyes fell on a female journalist at the back and he nodded.

"How did you propose to Ultra Woman?" she asked.

"On my knees."

"Awww." The low sound of approval resounded throughout the room.

"And she accepted immediately?"

"Yes, she did."

"Were you relieved?"

"Very."

That brought a volley of laughter.

"Did you give her an engagement ring?"

"Yes, I did."

"The wedding rings are being supplied by Mazik's Jewelers," Linda put in quickly.

"How is Ultra Woman feeling?" another female reporter asked.

"I imagine her feelings are similar to many women in the days before their wedding - excited, perhaps a little nervous ... hopeful that everything will go well."

"It will go very well," Linda said confidently.

Clark nodded to Eduardo, the Planet's representative. "The rescue today of people in the collapsed building ..." he said. "Were there any fatalities?"

"Some people had sustained significant injuries," Clark replied. "But everyone I rescued was alive when I brought them out from under the rubble."

"There are rumours that you can see through things ... buildings, bricks, and so on. Is this true?"

"Yes, it is."

Clark heard their surprise ripple around the room on a drawn-in breath.

"Is that how you find trapped people with such certainty?" another reporter asked. "And how you can be sure when all of the injured have been brought to safety?"

"Yes," Clark said. "I can also hear extremely well, so I listen for the sound of heartbeats. When I can neither see nor hear anyone, I can be confident that all have been rescued."

Another reporter spoke up. "Following rescues, you usually fly away. Would it be possible to take a few moments to talk to the media - once you are sure that you have done all you can to help?"

Clark considered this.

"We would be grateful for the chance to speak to you directly," the reporter continued.

"And direct quotes minimise the chance of you being misrepresented," another added.

Clark nodded. "If there is time, I will make myself available to answer questions."

"The members of the media are often held behind security lines," Eduardo noted.

"Wait together, and I will come over to you," Clark said.

"Thank you."

"In return, I ask that your stories emphasise the importance of the public not endangering themselves or others in their attempts to speak to me."

At least three reporters began with questions, but Clark stood up. "Thank you for coming," he said with a stilted smile. Then he turned away and walked outside.

Upon seeing him, half a dozen people began to hurry in his direction. He lifted slowly into the air, made a vague gesture of farewell, and flew away.

He wanted Lois.

But it was too early to visit her.

And Clark Kent needed to continue trying to build a profile of the murder victim whose death he'd been investigating.

A minute later, Clark walked into the Daily Planet newsroom and sat down. Before he'd had the opportunity to log on to his computer, Mayson had wheeled her chair across the floor and was parked on the other side of his desk. "How's your story going?" she said.

"Slowly," he said - partly because it was true and partly because he didn't want to talk about it with Mayson.

"The victim was English?"

"Yes."

"What do you know?"

"He was here legally. He'd been here for six years. In that time, he managed to avoid all other records."

"Employment? Taxes?"

"Nothing."

"International income?"

"Nothing I can find."

"I think it's likely he was involved in crime of some sort," Mayson said. "That explains his need to remain invisible. It explains his income ... And it probably gives a motive for his murder."

She'd said nothing that Clark hadn't already considered, but hearing someone else voice his thoughts caused him to review this line of investigation.

"Would you like me to contact my snitches?" Mayson asked.

Clark hesitated. Mayson's contacts were superior to everyone else's - with the possible exception of Perry's never-mentioned-aloud liaison with Sore Throat.

"No harm in asking," Mayson said casually.

"OK," Clark agreed. "Thanks."

"I'll get back to you." She spun her chair and returned to her work.

Perry emerged from his office and stopped at Mayson's desk. They conversed for a few moments, and then Perry moved to Clark. "Did you get the flights booked?" he asked.

Clark nodded. "Leaving late Thursday night," he said. "I'll arrive back early Monday morning."

"How many hours flying?"

"Forty."

"How many hours in Australia?"

"Thirty-seven."

Perry shook his head, his grin wide. "She must be something special."

"She is."

Chuckling, the editor walked away.

Clark glanced across to Mayson's desk. He could see her back, and she gave every appearance of working, but he could hear no tapping to indicate her fingers were busy on the keyboard.

Had she been listening to Clark's conversation with Perry?

Clark shrugged and returned his mind to his story.

A man murdered.

A man who had left absolutely no clue to his life between arriving in the States and being found dead under a pier in Hobb's Bay.

Six silent years.

Clark was sure that uncovering his life would be the key to uncovering the circumstances of his death.

And that was exactly what he meant to do.

||_||

After a frustrating afternoon of chasing leads that went nowhere, Clark left the Planet office and returned to his apartment. He spun into the suit and did a patrol, hoping there would be nothing to delay his going to Lois.

It was Saturday morning in Melbourne - she had a big day. Hawthorn was playing in a game they had to win if they were to retain any chance of being in the finals. Lois was covering the Essendon-Sydney game at the MCG.

He'd been watching her carefully for signs of exhaustion. He knew the time at Operation Payback was emotionally draining, and the threat of losing Hawthorn was never far from her mind. The wedding was approaching - the wedding she couldn't mention to anyone except him. She must feel as if her life was being stretched in a hundred different directions.

Superman dealt with a few small situations - most of which involved about five minutes of using his powers to assist and then about twenty minutes of chatting with people. Everyone wanted to talk about the wedding and Ultra Woman. He lifted from the ground with a wry smile. It seemed that being an alien faded to insignificance when compared with a wedding.

Finally, just as he figured enough time had passed that he could go to Lois, he saw two armed and masked men running from the door of a bank. He flew down, was shot twice before they realised their weapons were useless, and tied the would-be robbers to a pole. The police arrived within a few minutes but asked an inordinate number of questions such that when he was finally free to leave, his time with Lois had been significantly reduced.

Clark took a two-second detour to his apartment to spin out of the suit, stopped to buy breakfast, and flew to Melbourne.

She was in the kitchen when he entered her unit.

He quickly put the breakfast on the counter and took her into his arms. He loved this first moment - this first touch after having been separated from her. He hugged her close and dropped his cheek to her head, inhaling deeply and relishing the lovely vanilla scent that he would forever associate with his Lois.

"I didn't think you were coming," she said.

"I got held up answering police questions about a bank robbery."

She smiled, but it seemed hollow.

"Are you OK, honey?" he said.

"I'm fine."

"Really?"

"Nothing more than a few nerves - it's a big game for Hawthorn today."

Clark wasn't completely convinced 'a few nerves' explained her low spirits but, conscious of their limited time, decided to leave it for now.

They sat at her table, and Clark opened the bag of blueberry bagels he had brought. "Bagels," Lois said. "How very American." She grimaced. "I don't have any cream cheese - only jam."

"Jam is perfect," Clark said.

They spread the jam over their bagels and ate amid a few superficial questions. "How's it going at Operation Payback?" he asked, hoping that would bring some depth to their conversation.

Lois shrugged. "I'm beginning to realise that whoever wins, something will be lost," she said.

"What will be lost?"

"The unity," she said dolefully.

Clark sipped his coffee and waited.

"We constantly talk about rebuilding," Lois said. "Rebuilding our team to be successful on the field, rebuilding our financial situation, building a much larger membership ..."

"But?"

"But the thing that might be destroyed forever is our unity. It just feels so wrong to be on the opposite side to Ron and Barb and Seb and so many past players and coaches that I would have supported to my last breath."

"Do you have any doubts?"

"None," she said. "Not about what the merger really means. If we merge, we will fade to nothing." She gave a long shaky sigh. "But in avoiding the merger, it's possible we might destroy the essence of Hawthorn."

Clark put his hand over hers and looked into eyes that were very close to tears.

Lois roughly snatched a tissue and scrubbed away the moisture. "I read your report on the 'net about the murdered Englishman," she said.

He accepted her change of subject. "What do you think?" he asked.

"It seems weird that someone could die and leave no hint about how he lived," she said. "Have there been any further leads?"

"No," Clark said. "His life is a total blank since he moved from England six years ago."

"Nothing?"

"There are no records of any sort - no medical records, no insurance, no taxes, no employment, no bank accounts."

"What about the autopsy report? Anything there?"

"He was killed by a single shot to the back of his head."

"Was he malnourished? Sick? Any evidence of disease?"

"He was lean - but certainly not malnourished."

"Injuries?" Lois asked. "Any signs of neglect? Do you think he was living on the streets?"

"No. He was clean and well-dressed - there was absolutely nothing to indicate he was homeless."

"So he was living *somewhere*?"

"Seems so."

"How was he identified?"

"His wallet was in his pocket; it contained some money and his green card."

"So he wasn't robbed?"

"No."

"And the green card checked out?"

"Yes."

"No one's come forward in England? No family? Or friends?"

"Scotland Yard checked and came up with nothing."

"So ..." Lois said. "He has no ties to his homeland, he lives here in seeming comfort - is well-fed and clothed - yet he achieves it all without any paper trail?"

"That's it."

"He couldn't have shot himself in the back of the head."

"And he couldn't have dumped his body under a pier in Hobb's Bay. The police believe he was killed somewhere else and taken there."

"No witnesses?"

"No," Clark said with frustration. "The police canvassed the entire area, and no one saw anything."

"Have you been helping them with their enquiries? As Superman?"

"I saw the group of police and flew in to see if I could help. It was way too late for me to do anything for the victim."

"Anything else you could do? Fingerprints on his clothing? Anything left at the scene that might point to who dumped the body?"

"The only fingerprints were his own. I scanned the area - there was one imprint of a shoe that could be something." Clark shrugged. "I couldn't really determine much that wasn't going to be found by the autopsy."

"You can't just leave it like this," Lois said. "What's the next step?"

"Mayson said she would check her contacts. See if they know anything."

"You're working with Mayson?"

"No," he said, realising too late that his swiftness in replying sounded like he *was* working with her.

"It must be nice being able to go out with her and not have to hide away," Lois said.

"Lois," Clark exclaimed. "I do *not* go out with Mayson."

"You sound like there's something you don't want me to know," she said.

"You *know* there is nothing between Mayson and me." He couldn't believe he even had to say it.

"I know she wants to be with you. I know she's in Metropolis and I'm half a world away. I know she's helping you with your story, and I know you don't want me to know she's helping you."

"There is nothing between Mayson and me," Clark said, slowly and unwaveringly. "Nothing at all."

"Not from your side," Lois said. "But what about from hers?"

"I can't control what she feels," he said, trying to keep all traces of indignation from leaking into his words.

"So you admit she has feelings for you?"

Clark felt like he was being backed into a corner. "I admit she did. I *told* you that. I don't know what she feels now because I haven't asked her."

"Have you told her you're with someone else? Have you told her you are in a relationship?"

"No. And you know why I haven't told -"

Lois lurched from her chair and turned away from him. Her shoulders were shaking. Clark stood up, bewildered by the path their conversation had taken. "I ... I don't know what to do," he said to her back.

"Neither do I," Lois replied.

A cold wave of horror shook him. She was having second thoughts about the wedding. She had doubts about them being together.

"Lois," he said. He lifted his hand towards her shoulder but then dropped it again. He buried both hands deep in his pockets. "Lois, I will do *anything* to make this work."

She turned. "And that's the problem, isn't it?" she said coolly.

Now, he was completely confused. "I ... I -"

"Exactly. You can easily say you will do *anything* and that our relationship is your first priority because you know I would never ask you to give up being Superman. That's off the table. So is any possibility of you not living in Metropolis. You can claim you'll give up anything for us, but you know that it will never come to either of those situations."

"Lo -"

"Meanwhile, you keep saying it, and the unspoken question is why I won't give up my life to be with you. Why I won't just dutifully pack up my life and follow you to Metropolis - where I won't have a job and I won't have a family and I won't have Hawthorn. All I'll have is you - though I'll have to share you with everyone who needs Superman, and I'll have to share you with the career that you will still have, and I might even have to stand by while Mayson Drake continually tries to lure you into her web."

"Lois," Clark said. "I have *never* asked you to move. I have *never* said anything to make you think I expect you to move to Metropolis."

"Of course you haven't *said* it," she fired back. "That would accentuate how incredibly unfair it is that I have to be the one who does all the changing ... But I bet you've thought it. I bet you've thought about how perfect everything would be if only I would move to Metropolis."

"I want to be with you," Clark said. "But the only person who ever brought up you moving was you."

"Then why have you never offered any sort of solution beyond sneaking around snatching a few minutes here and half an hour there?" Lois rasped. "You've always said we'll work it out. We're getting *married* for goodness' sake, and neither one of us has the slightest idea of what happens beyond 'I do'."

"I thought we would work it out together."

"You thought I would see the obvious solution and offer to leave Melbourne," she accused. "That way, we're together, your job and your career are unaffected, and you can even sleep easy knowing that it was my choice and not something you forced me into."

"I would never force you into anything."

"Good!" she cried. "Because I'm staying right here. I'm *not* leaving Melbourne. It's my home."

She stormed towards her bedroom. At the door, she stopped and faced him. "So when we *do* finally get around to working out how we are going to do this, at least we'll both understand the ground rules. I'm staying here."

She went into her room and slammed the door.

Clark's eyes drifted over the half-drunk coffee and the half-eaten bagels.

What had happened?

He cautiously crossed to her bedroom door and gently tapped on it. "Lois?"

The door was flung open, and he stepped back. "I have to get to the ground," Lois said. "I have a game to cover."

"Lois, we can't part like this. We just can't."

She pushed past him. "We don't have any choice," she said. "You can't go out of the door - and I have a job to do. It might only be a game of football, but it's my job."

Her underlying insinuation was unfair. "I have *never* implied that what I do is more important than what you do."

"You'd be the only one in the entire Daily Planet newsroom who hasn't thought it."

Clark hesitated for a fraction of second - but it was long enough. A jagged look of hurt crossed her face. "Fair enough," she said.

Lois grabbed her coat and stormed out of her unit.

And, as she'd said, Clark - despite all his superpowers - was unable to follow her.