Sam brushed past Clark and strode along the corridor.

"Dr Lane?"

He turned at the top of the stairs.

"Thank you," Clark said gravely. "Thank you for checking on my wife."

The doctor nodded and began descending the stairs.

Clark watched him move away, plagued with indecision. He couldn't leave it there. He had to say something. But what? He ran to the stairs. Dr Lane stopped and looked up at him. "Was there something else?" he asked impatiently.

"You ... you can't go back," Clark said. "When something has finished, it's over."

Dr Lane's eyebrows dipped with incomprehension.

"If a relationship finishes ... a marriage ... it's best to move on. If you try to mark occasions that are no longer special ... people get hurt."

"Are you going to divorce your wife?"

"No!" Clark exclaimed. Then he added, "But if I did, I wouldn't date her again. It would be over. We would both move on. We would live separate lives."

With a slight shake of his head, Dr Lane continued down the stairs.

Clark turned and hurried to his room. To his Lois.


Part 14

Despite Tony's frantic efforts and seeming early progress, the knots around his ankles had refused to loosen any further. He was now using his teeth to tear at the rope around his wrists.

"How well do you think that guy can tie knots?" Barry hissed.

"I dunno," Lois murmured. Robert James seemed to do most things well, and if he really was a government agent, he should have had training in tying knots. But he'd been in a hurry, and his mind, as always, had been on his wife. Lois ran her finger over the trigger guard on the revolver. "But I'm not going to let him shoot us."

"Why hasn't anyone else come?" Barry whispered. "Surely, somebody had to hear the gunshots."

"There's only Carol. She never leaves the lobby if she can help it. Steve would be at the market buying food. And Mark doesn't start until later on Saturdays."

"Aren't there other guests?"

"Not many people stay here." Lois lowered her voice even further. "It's an overpriced, rodent-infested dump. Tony's the only person who doesn't -"

From above them came the sound of footsteps. Barry snatched the gun from Lois and swung to point it up the stairs.

Lois's heart accelerated.

The owner of the footsteps came into view.

It was her father.

He'd come. She had thought he wouldn't bother. "It's OK," she said to Barry. "That's my dad."

Her father stopped abruptly as he saw the end of the revolver. "Lois? Are you all right?"

Barry lowered the weapon. "Sorry, Mr Lane," he said. "I didn't know it was you."

Sam continued down the stairs until he was level with Lois. He looked at her, and although his face was set to a mask, it wasn't opaque enough to hide his concern. "Are you hurt, Lois?"

"No, Dad. I'm fine," she said. "Ah ... thanks for coming."

Her father eyed the weapon. "Who fired the gun?"

"He did," Lois and Barry said together, pointing to Tony.

"Who did he fire at?"

"Me," Lois said. "But Barry was standing in front of me. He missed both of us."

Sam looked at Barry. "Thank you," he breathed.

"It wasn't me who saved us," Barry said. "One of the guests came and overpowered him." He offered the revolver to Sam. "He gave me this."

"Robert James?" Sam inquired as he took the gun and locked it.

"You met him?" Lois cut in.

"Yes."

"You went to see his wife?"

"Yes."

"Did she open the door?"

"No."

"Did she speak to you?"

"No."

"So you don't know for sure that she's alive?"

"I heard movement," her father replied, his annoyance surfacing in his expression. "Someone was in the room. And she was alive. That's why I knocked for so long." His attention swung to Tony, and he descended the final few steps into the basement. "Why did you try to shoot my daughter?" he asked.

"Because she was going to ruin everything."

Sam turned to Lois. "Do you know what he's talking about?"

"I do, sir," Barry said. "I think I - inadvertently - caused this."

"How?" Sam snapped. "What did you do?"

"I realised that Lois is exhibiting all the symptoms of lead poisoning. I took some paint flakes from the front of the building and had them tested. That confirmed the presence of lead. I came to tell Lois, but Mr Green wouldn't let me see her, so I told him. I expected he could be displeased about the expense and disruption, but I never thought he would attempt to kill her."

Sam's face had become progressively more shocked as Barry had relayed his information. "Lead poisoning?" he said as his eyes darted over his daughter. "Haven't you been feeling well?"

"I'm always tired," she said. "I have no appetite, I often feel nauseous, and most of my body aches."

"She said that food tastes metallic," Barry added.

"As soon as you've finished with the police, I'm taking you to the hospital," Sam said. "We'll get a blood test. Then we'll know what we're dealing with."

Now the danger of being shot had passed, Lois's concerns refocused on her long-term health. "If I have been poisoned, will there be lasting effects?"

"That depends on the levels," Sam said. "How long have you worked here?"

"Nearly three weeks."

"Have you been sanding walls? Cutting through the plaster?"

"No. I work as a maid," Lois said, trying not to sound defensive.

"I'm surprised you're feeling the effects already," her father said. "Usually lead poisoning accumulates over months."

"So he could be wrong?" Tony snarled from the floor.

"I don't know what has impaired my daughter's health," Sam said. "But it is highly doubtful that she has been affected by simply being in this environment for three weeks." He turned to Lois with a dry smile. "I assume you haven't been licking the walls? Or doing anything else equally unorthodox?"

"She's been doing plenty, the disgraceful little slut," Tony said angrily. He gave up on his attempts to unravel the ropes and slumped against the wall.

Sam Lane turned to his daughter, his expression clearly demanding an explanation.

"I think Mr Green saw me coming out of Robert James' room," she said. "He assumed he knew what I'd been doing in there."

Sam grabbed his daughter's shoulders. "If Robert James touched you -"

"No! He didn't," Lois said quickly. "I went to him because I was chasing a story, and I thought he had information. Nothing happened." She shrugged. "I know I shouldn't have been investigating during my shift, but all we did was talk."

"What sort of story?"

Lois scanned her father's face, looking for - hoping for - his first-ever spark of interest in her career. It wasn't there. All he wanted was assurance that she hadn't slept with Robert James. A shaft of loyalty - or perhaps it was defiance - rose within her. She would reveal nothing of what Robert James had said to her. He had listened to her. Spoken to her. Treated her with respect. He had said she would be a fine reporter. *And* he'd saved her life. "It was nothing," she said. "I thought there was a story, but there wasn't. It happens to all reporters."

"So you were investigating a harmless guest, but you never realised that your boss is the sort of man who could threaten to kill you?" her father asked scathingly.

"No," Lois said, trying not to squirm and wishing that just once, she wouldn't appear to be such a failure in the eyes of her father. "I didn't realise that."

Her father had more to say - she could see a lecture gathering like a storm cloud. But she was saved from his tirade of displeasure by the sound of multiple sets of running footsteps. Seconds later, three police officers came into view.

+-+-+-+

Lois stared at her charm bracelet through the mist of her tears.

Held gently between her thumb and forefinger was the stethoscope that represented her father. It was nestled among other charms - the sunflower, the farmboy with the honey pot - that were about the love she shared with Clark.

The yearning to see her father had been almost irresistible.

She had stood just a few yards from him. She had cried softly. She had mourned deeply. She had wished things had been different between them.

But she hadn't opened the door. She hadn't given in to the longing that had been clawing at her heart.

Her dad had called to her a few more times, but she hadn't responded - except with tears.

Because nothing was worth risking her life with Clark.

Then silence had come, and her chance had slipped away.

She had stared at the door, feeling lost in a drifting haze of timelessness. She jumped when the handle turned, the door opened, and Clark entered. She met his eyes, his sympathy swept over her, his arms surrounded her, and Lois fell into the haven of understanding that only he could give her.

She grieved.

For her father. For her mother. For young Lois and the tragedy to come. For herself and the inevitability of going back to a time when her parents were dead.

After a short time of soaking up Clark's compassion, Lois straightened from the haven of his chest. "Is Lois all right?" she asked in a shaky voice. "What happened?"

"Tony shot at her twice. I deflected both bullets - just enough to miss Lois and embed in the wall."

"Do you think he would have killed her? If you hadn't been there?"

"Tony didn't have a direct shot but he sidestepped, and I'm sure the first shot would have hit her. When he fired the second time, he was more flustered, and it probably would have grazed her. But I wasn't taking any chances."

"So you think the first shot was the one that killed her?" Lois asked in a small voice. "The one that killed me?"

Clark nodded, grimacing with the flicker of pain that always accompanied any mention of her death.

"You're sure Tempus is Tony?" Lois asked.

"He didn't admit it, but I didn't want him to - not in front of Lois. The less she knows, the better it will be for her."

"But he would have killed her?" Lois persisted. "If you hadn't been there to stop him, he would have killed her?"

"Yes."

Lois tried to mould her relief into a smile, but her efforts amounted to nothing against the tide of her wrangled emotions. "My dad was here," she whimpered.

"I know." Clark ran a tender touch across her cheek. "That's why I came back."

"You left Lois to come to me? Is she safe? Is Tony still there? Have the police come? Are you sure no one can hurt her?"

"I tied Tony up," Clark said. "And I gave Barry the gun."

"Barry? Barry Russo?"

"Yeah. He was there, too."

"What was Barry doing there? He has no reason to be at the North-Western."

"You don't remember him ever coming here?"

Lois sifted through the dust of old memories. "There was once. He didn't come here, but I was walking home one night and I met him."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I didn't want company. Not his, anyway. I brushed him off, and he faded away." Lois felt a little colour heat her cheeks. "I wasn't very tolerant of people I didn't like."

"She was lucky he was there. When I arrived, he was standing between them."

*Barry* had tried to protect young Lois? Lois shivered. This world seemed so unfamiliar. So full of dangers. Chains of fear tightened around her heart. She didn't want to die. "Are you sure he can't hurt her?"

"He won't escape from the ropes," Clark assured her. "And I've been looking through the walls regularly. The police have just arrived."

"And Lois is still all right?"

"Yes. I am tracking her heartbeat. And I sent your dad down to look after her."

Lois's tears surged again. "I wanted to see him so much," she cried. "Just one more time. I wanted to open the door. I wanted one more memory. A chance to say goodbye. But I was scared he would recognise me. I was scared of what it might mean for us."

"I'm glad you didn't," Clark said, his arms trembling slightly as they tightened around her. "I can understand how much you wanted to, but until you got sick, our lives in 1993 were perfect. We were married."

She had done the right thing. Nothing was more important that being with Clark. "I don't want to change anything," she said. "Except ..."

Lois felt the slight movement of his head and figured he was nodding. "I tried," he said in a soft voice.

"You spoke to Dad?"

"Yes."

"What did you say? I thought about possible ways I could warn him, but I couldn't figure out how to do it without sounding weird. Without revealing too much about who I am and where I've come from."

"I wasn't sure either," Clark said. "I tried to make it sound like general advice. That once a relationship is over, you can't go back. I didn't say straight out that he shouldn't go on the 30th anniversary date with your mom. Even if I had, there's a good chance he wouldn't remember it - it's still nearly eight years in the future."

Lois hugged him harder, appreciating his efforts. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for saying what I couldn't say."

"Thank you for not jeopardising our future," Clark said.

"Is that why you came back so quickly?" Lois asked. "Because you were worried I would open the door?"

Clark's pause indicated a moment of uncertainty. "I didn't race up here because I didn't trust you," he said. "I came because I knew that if he spoke, you would recognise his voice and that was going to be really difficult for you." His understanding seeped into her. "I wish there was a way you could see him."

"There was another reason why I didn't open the door," Lois said. "Young Lois's relationship with both of her parents is precarious. But she still has eight years to do it better than I did. I always seemed to antagonise my father - I really didn't want anything I said now to ruin any small chance they have of things improving."

"I'm not sure how you could have made things worse," Clark said softly. "Not in their relationship."

"Things are different for Lois," Lois said eagerly. "When I was living in 1985, no one threatened my life. She came close to death today. And Dad was here. That's different from my experience. Hopefully, that gives them a chance. A chance to make the next eight years count."

"Nothing that happened with your parents was your fault."

Perhaps that was true, but it did nothing to alleviate her regrets. "I would have done things so very differently if I'd known how little time we had."

Clark drew her into his embrace again. His love and support soothed away the clutches of mourning.

"There's something that doesn't add up," Lois said.

Clark chuckled softly. "We're in 1985, honey," he said. "There's a whole lot that doesn't add up."

Lois smiled, trying to reinforce his effort to drive the sombreness from the atmosphere. "There's one thing specifically," she said. "You would never tell me exactly when I was supposed to die, but I didn't think it was meant to be today."

"It wasn't. It was Tuesday."

Her fear surged again. "So Tempus is going to try again in three days?"

"I don't think so," Clark said. "I'm sure the first bullet would have hit Lois, but it was low. Too low to have hit her heart. I think it would have damaged her liver or spleen. Perhaps even her stomach. It's likely that it wouldn't have been immediately fatal."

"So perhaps the first time - the time that killed me, too - she was shot, but survived initially and was taken to the hospital?"

"Yeah," Clark said sadly. "Perhaps she got an infection. Or the doctors couldn't repair a damaged internal organ. Perhaps that is why your condition deteriorated slowly - just as hers did."

That seemed reasonable, but Lois's curiosity wasn't entirely satisfied. "Tempus came to this time specifically to kill Lois, right?"

Clark nodded.

"So why didn't he make sure of it?"

"Perhaps he's not a very good shot," Clark said.

"He planned everything else," Lois said. "I figure he would have practised using the weapon."

"Perhaps he hadn't reckoned on Barry being there."

"I think I badly misjudged Barry," Lois said.

Clark grunted. "Not as badly as I did. I was sure he was Tempus."

"I was sure Tempus was Paul," Lois said. "I guess we were both wrong."

"I didn't think it could be Paul," Clark said. "Not once we knew he went away this weekend."

Lois thought for a moment. "You don't think ..."

"What?"

"You don't think Tempus could be Paul and he set up Tony to do his dirty work while he was out of town, thereby diverting suspicion from himself?"

"He has the ultimate getaway vehicle," Clark said. "I can't see the need for an alibi."

"But Paul is the obvious choice," Lois insisted.

Clark fingered the ends of her hair as it lay on her shoulders. "You really don't like losing a bet, do you?" he said with an affectionate smile.

"You weren't right either," she reminded him, but her flash of light-heartedness was quickly snuffed out. "What if we're wrong? What if Tempus is still out there?"

"Tempus is Tony," Clark said. "I saw him fire at Lois. The shot would have injured her sufficiently that she could have died in a few days - exactly as Wells said. Tony, the hotel-owner, had no reason to kill her. He never threatened you, did he?"

"He shouted a lot and complained and nagged," Lois said. "But no, I never felt that my life was in danger from him."

"Then that's different," Clark said. "Wells said to look for differences, and that's it. I saw Tony shoot at Lois with the intention of killing her. Tony had no reason for wanting her dead. But Tempus did."

"Perhaps Tony's reason was that Paul had offered him a lot of money - money he needed to fix up the hotel."

"We have no evidence that Paul knew Tony Green," Clark said. "Nothing to suggest Tony would kill at Paul's bidding."

"But if Paul was Tempus, he could have looked up Tony, made a connection that wasn't there during my time, and talked him into killing me."

"Was Tony that malleable?" Clark asked.

"He wasn't malleable at all when it came to his hotel. Everything had to be done his way."

Clark gave her a loving smile and brushed her hair from her temple. "Accept it, honey. We did it. We got Tempus. We stopped him."

It seemed too good to be true. "What's happening with Lois?"

He stared intently at the wall and then said, "The police are asking questions. I expect they will be up here soon to see me."

"What are you going to say?"

"As little as possible. They have the physical evidence of the bullets and the eyewitness accounts from Lois and Barry. That should be more than enough to get a conviction."

"But it wasn't murder," Lois said. "If he gets a prison sentence, it might only be a few years."

"Superman will be taking a special interest in the felon known as 'Tony Green' when we get back to 1993," Clark said grimly.

"Can we get Wells to come back when Tony is released and take him to another time? A time when he can't get to us?"

"We'll talk to Wells when he comes to get us. I didn't think beyond having you alive again. I'm sure Wells realises that Tempus has to be stopped permanently." Clark smiled and gently touched the curve of her cheek. "Don't worry, honey. Tempus will never threaten you again."

"Is Barry still with Lois?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I guess he was a lot nicer than I realised."

"Is there a chance of anything starting between Lois and Barry?"

There was a little trace of concern in Clark's eyes. "Nothing more than friendship," Lois said. "I simply didn't find him attractive. Not in a romantic kind of way."

"Good," Clark said with a satisfied smile. "Because there's a guy at Midwest who is just perfect for Lois Lane, and I don't want him to miss out on being with the most amazing woman in the world."

Lois reached up to kiss him, but the second their lips met, a knock sounded on the door. "That's the police," Clark murmured.

"Should I hide?"

"No. I think that would just stir up their interest in us, particularly if Lois has mentioned her suspicions about your safety and wellbeing. It's just two officers. Lois, Sam, and Barry have already gone."

"What if they recognise me?" Lois asked in an urgent whisper. "What if they realise I'm the same as the Lois who was shot at?"

Clark quickly kissed her forehead and moved towards the door. "They won't think that," he said. "It's not possible, remember?"

"What are we going to say?" Lois hissed, wishing now that they'd used their time to plan. "What has Lois told them?"

"We'll stick as close to the truth as we can," Clark said. "We'll stay away from lies that can be checked out. And we'll help each other."

"But -"

"I'm supposed to be a government agent, remember?" Clark said. "If Lois has told them that, they won't expect me to be too forthcoming. And if we mess up, it won't matter too much. We'll be gone a few hours."

"Don't mention the government agent bit unless they do," Lois said.

Clark nodded as he opened the door.

"Robert James?" the police officer said.

"Yes." Clark moved out of the doorway and gestured to Lois. "And this is my wife, Mary."

"We are here to question you about the incident in the basement."

"We've been expecting you," Clark said. "Would you like to come in?"

The two officers stepped into the room, and Clark shut the door. One officer unclipped a pen from the cover of his notebook. The other said, "Could you tell us what happened please, Mr James?"

"I was heading out of the hotel to go to the drugstore when I heard noises coming from the basement," Clark said. "I went down the stairs and listened through the door. I heard a male voice saying he was going to kill someone. I crashed through the door as a shot fired. No one had been hit, so I approached the man with the gun in the hope of convincing him to give it up."

"Did he?"

"No, he fired again, but he missed."

"You approached him? But he missed you?"

"He wasn't aiming at me. He stepped around me, trying to get a clear shot at the young woman."

"Did you previously know the young woman?"

Clark hesitated. "I met her yesterday," he said. "Her name is Lois Lane. She works at this hotel. She brought me a room-service meal last night."

"Have you had any other contact with her?"

"Yes. She came to this room earlier today."

"She came into the room?"

"Yes."

"For what purpose?"

"I'd seen one of her stories in The Statement, her college paper, so I knew she was a young reporter." Clark gave an awkward smile. "She was showing a lot of interest in my wife, and I realised it was possible Ms Lane thought there might be a story. So when she came this morning, I explained a little more about our circumstances in the hope that she would stop investigating us."

"What circumstances?"

"That my wife was sick."

Lois held her breath. If young Lois had repeated the story about Clark being an agent, things were going to get precarious.

"Did you make a complaint to the hotel manager?" the officer asked.

Lois released her breath as Clark answered. "No," he said. "It wasn't anything more serious than youthful enthusiasm."

"Many people wouldn't be so understanding," the police officer noted dryly.

"I've had a lot of other things on my mind," Clark said with a glance to Lois.

"How many shots were fired in total?" the police officer asked.

"Two. One as I arrived and one a few seconds later."

"What happened after the second shot?"

"I realised I wasn't going to be able to talk Mr Green into giving up the gun, so I charged him and physically removed it from him."

"Were you worried about being shot?"

"I didn't think too much," Clark said. "I just reacted to the second shot."

"You overpowered Mr Green?"

"Yes."

"Do you know why he wanted to kill Ms Lane?"

"While we waited for the young man - I think Ms Lane called him Barry - to return, there was some talk, but nothing that shed any light on how or why they'd come to be in basement."

"Why did you leave before the police arrived?"

Lois saw Clark's hesitation. "That would be because of me," she said. The officer turned in her direction, so she continued. "As my husband has said, I have been sick. We are staying here until I am well enough to travel home. My husband left to go to the drugstore to get me some pain pills. I was only expecting him to be gone a few moments. He knew I would worry if he was gone longer than that."

The officer scrutinised Clark for a long moment. "So you left a dangerous man with a couple of kids?"

"I told Ms Lane to go to the lobby and check on the expected arrival of the police," Clark said. "I had securely tied Mr Green's wrists and ankles and given the revolver to Barry. As I returned to my room, I met Ms Lane's father. He's a doctor. I told him what had happened, and he went to find his daughter."

"You didn't consider going back to see whether Mr Green was threatening to shoot again?"

"I ... No," Clark said. "My wife has been very ill. My first thought was for her. Once I'd sent Dr Lane to his daughter, I assumed she would be all right. Three people, with a weapon, against a single man who was tied up - I didn't think there would be any further danger." He looked suddenly aghast. "Is Ms Lane all right? Mr Green didn't hurt her? Or the young man?"

"No," the police officer said. "And according to them, they have you to thank for that."

Clark shrugged. "I just happened to be there," he said. "I didn't do much."

"We would like you to accompany us to the station," the officer said. "There might be further questions, and you will need to sign your statement."

"I'd prefer to answer all your questions here," Clark said. "I will come to the station to sign my statement, but I don't want to leave my wife for any longer than is absolutely necessary."

The two officers conferred with a glance. "OK," one said. "We'll call the hotel reception to inform you when your statement is ready."

"Thank you," Clark said, sounding grateful.

"You don't intend leaving today?"

"I want to leave as soon as my wife is well enough," Clark said.

"Don't leave until you've signed your statement," the officer directed. "And make sure you leave an address where you can be contacted."

Clark nodded. The police officers opened the door and exited the room. "Thanks for your help," one said. "Without you, I think we'd be investigating a double murder."

"Ah ... thanks," Clark said, looking appropriately discomfited.

The officers walked down the hall. Clark shut the door and gathered Lois into his arms. "Other than a couple of details, I think our work is done," he said.

Relief swept over them. Tempus had been stopped. Both versions of Lois were safe. "When will Wells arrive to take us home?" she said.

"He said he would come as soon as your life-force appeared beyond Tuesday on his tracker."

"So, it could be any time?"

"I guess so." Clark looked around the room, and his attention stopped at the bed. "I have an idea for what we could do to pass the time," he said.

"Like go to a disco?" Lois said. "Or shop for some eighties fashion?"

"That wasn't *exactly* what I was thinking," Clark said with an adorable little smile.

"Let me guess," Lois said. "Your idea involves fewer clothes? Not more?"

"We are on our honeymoon," Clark pointed out.

Lois nodded. "But there is something I would like to do before we leave 1985."

"OK," Clark said.

"Something I've been thinking about. Something I'd really, really like to do, but I need my superpowered husband to be able to do it."

"I'm all yours," Clark said with his trademark smile. "You know that."

"Good," Lois said, feeling her excitement build. "Because this is going to be fun."