Ambivalence

By Elizabeth Frerichs

Summary: Ambivalence—noun 1: simultaneous and contradictory attitudes or feelings (as attraction and repulsion) toward an object, person, or action; 2: continual fluctuation (as between one thing and its opposite). What if Clark escaped from Luthor’s Kryptonite cage just a few seconds earlier, and it forced both Lois and Clark to face up to how broken the events of “Barbarians at the Planet” and “House of Luthor” left them?

Rating: PG-13

Story Size: 76,590 words

Disclaimer: Obviously, the Lois and Clark TV show characters, etc. do not belong to me.

Part One

One painful step at a time, Clark staggered up and out of the LexCorp building. Free. By the skin of his teeth, he’d escaped Luthor’s Kryptonite cage, powerless and, he suspected, mere minutes from death. Lois had saved him, or at least his desperation to save her had goaded him to save himself. Cops surrounded the place. Perry and Henderson must have managed to stop Lois’s wedding to Luthor. And now that the police were here, now what? He could go inside, find Lois, and—

Clark’s breath caught in his chest as Lois came out the front doors. She was beautiful in her wedding dress. Beautiful for him, he reminded himself. For Luthor. Not you. She’d chosen Superman’s arch enemy over her supposed best friend. He sagged against the side of the building, trying to dredge up enough strength to walk over to her. Her shoulders slumped as Perry gently guided her out of the building.

“I’ve always been such a good judge of character,” Lois wailed to Perry.

Clark stiffened as her words twisted the knife she’d plunged into his heart, slamming him back to the reality of their situation. Such a good judge of character. Such a good judge that she’d refused to listen to Clark when he’d warned her about Luthor. Such a good judge that she would trust Luthor’s word over his. Such a good judge that she would love Superman even if he were “an ordinary man living an ordinary life.”

“Oh, Lois,” Clark murmured. She never could be wrong. He knew she was far from as confident as she portrayed herself. She was obviously hurting and a part of him longed to sweep her up into his arms and shelter her from the pain he knew she was feeling. Normally, he would have been able to push his emotions aside and do just that. However, the fact that she hadn’t married Luthor didn’t change his own personal hell: half of him her “god in a cape” that she was “so completely in love with” and half of him the hack from Nowheresville that she “just didn’t feel that way about.” They’d saved her from Luthor, but he had no idea what to do next.

“Where’s Clark?” she cried.

Clark stayed where he was.

“We’re not sure, honey. We haven’t seen him in two days,” Perry said somberly, pulling Lois into a hug.

The crowd gasped and pointed up. Clark couldn’t see anything from where he stood.

“Lex! No!” Lois cried.

Luthor must be in trouble. Clark tried to lift off, but his body was as weighted as his heart.

Lois hid her face against Perry. Luthor’s body thumped to the concrete.

It was over.

Clark mourned the waste of a life, but even so, a part of him was savagely glad Luthor had precluded any hope of rescue. If he’d lived, they would have spent the rest of their lives with one eye open.

Perry bundled Lois into a car. Jimmy and Jack got in, and they drove off. Good. Lois had escaped most of the press, at least for now. Perry would take care of her.

What about him? He needed to leave before someone recognized him. But go where? He wanted to crawl in a hole and sleep for about a week. And there was no way he had the energy to explain where he’d been for the past two days. Perry was too sharp-eyed to accept anything vague. In fact, maybe he’d better leave a message for Perry now, before they could return to his apartment. He walked to a payphone and dialed his own number.

“Hey guys, it’s Clark. I, uh, heard the latest about Luthor. Sorry I missed out on the end of the investigation. I’ll check back in a couple of days. Feel free to stay at my place.”

He hung up the phone. It’d been tempting to just disappear and he still might. But it wouldn’t be fair to Perry, Jimmy and Jack to leave without saying good-bye. Running was second nature, or had been until he’d met Lois. And now she tied him here … and pushed him away.

Enough thinking. Enough feeling. He held his breath for a moment, trying to still the pain. A cab. A place to stay. Pay in cash so he couldn’t be traced, in case he did decide to disappear. He knew the drill.

***

Clark sighed. Now that he was checked into the hotel, he should probably call his parents, just in case someone tried to reach him there. He dialed the Kansas farmhouse.

“Hello,” his mother’s voice came through the phone.

“Hey, Mom,” he said tiredly.

“Clark, you sound terrible. Are you okay?”

The corners of his mouth turned up. He never could put anything past his mother. “I don’t know. I just thought I’d call you before anyone else did. I’ve been out of touch with everyone for the past couple of days.”

“Oh?”

He paused, trying to come up with some gentle way to tell her. There was none. “Luthor had Kryptonite.”

He could hear his mother fumble with the phone, then yell for his father. “Oh, honey, what happened? Do you need us to come out?”

His father picked up the extension. “Son, are you hurt?”

“No, Mom,” he said. There was no point in them coming, nothing they could do for him—nothing anyone could do. “I’m okay, Dad,” he hedged. “Luthor trapped Superman in a Kryptonite cage and held him there for the past two days.” Even without super powers, Clark could hear his mother’s sharply indrawn breath.

“A cage? How could he?” Martha said, her voice shaking.

Clark thought it was probably good for Luthor that he was dead. Otherwise his mother would be after him. Martha might be small, but she was a fierce woman, especially when her protective instincts were aroused.

“Where are you? Are you safe?” Jonathan asked.

Something uncoiled in Clark’s chest in the face of his parents’ concern. They hadn’t been able to keep him safe for a long time, but they still made him feel safe. “Yeah. Luthor’s dead now. I’m laying low for a while,” Clark said.

“Wasn’t the wedding supposed to be today? Is Lois okay?” Martha asked shrewdly.

“I don’t really know. Perry’s taking care of her,” Clark said. He could practically hear the wheels turning in his mother’s brain. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, Mom. I’m exhausted. Superman doesn’t have any powers, and he’s not sure if they’ll come back or not.”

“They came back before,” Jonathan said.

Clark raked a hand through his hair. “That wasn’t—it’s different this time. That was minutes. This was two days.”

“What happened to the cage?” Martha asked.

“It’s still there,” he said, his stomach lurching at the thought. “I guess I should—do something about it ….”

“You can’t go near that thing!” Martha protested.

“Yeah.” Clark thought for a minute. Someone did need to do something about it. “Maybe Henderson can take care of it. I trust him,” he said finally.

“Okay, son, as long as you think he’ll keep Kryptonite secret,” Jonathan said, worry lacing his tone.

“Jonathan, he can’t just leave it out for someone else to get!”

“I’m just saying be careful,” his dad assured her.

“I will be, Dad. I’m beat. I’ll call you guys later, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, honey. If you need us to come—” his mother began.

“I’ll let you know,” Clark said quickly. “Love you too, Mom.”

“Love you, son.”

“Love you too, Dad. Bye.”

***

Clark hung up the phone and groaned. He wished he could just forget the blasted cage. But his parents were right—that’d be asking for trouble. And even though moving was the last thing he wanted to do, there was no way he was going to call Henderson from his hotel room.

He found a phone booth a couple of blocks away. Henderson may or may not have left LexCorp. He called Henderson’s direct line, hoping he wouldn’t have to do more to chase the man down.

“Henderson.”

Clark had never been so glad to hear the laconic inspector’s voice. Glancing around once more, he didn’t see anyone close enough to hear, so, adopting his Superman tone, he plunged in, “Inspector Henderson, this is Superman. Is this line secure?”

“Just a moment,” Henderson said. Clark guessed that he was closing his office door. “Superman, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I heard you were at LexCorp earlier today.”

“I was. I have to admit, I expected to see you there too—not that anyone will be too broken up over Luthor’s death.”

“Trust me, if I could have saved him, I would have,” Clark said.

“If you could have? I suppose even you can’t be everywhere,” Henderson said.

Clark could almost see the man’s raised eyebrow. “Indeed. I always regret those I can’t get to in time.” He took a deep breath, trying to keep his impersonal superhero persona in place. “I am, however, calling with regards to one of Luthor’s possessions.”

“Oh?”

“Inspector Henderson, it is of the utmost importance that you keep this to yourself,” Clark began.

“I can’t promise that without knowing anything more, but I’d say the MPD owes you, Superman.”

Clark hesitated, then gave in. After all, he didn’t really have any other options. “Have you ever heard of Kryptonite?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“It’s a green, glowing meteorite from my home planet. And it’s poisonous.”

Clark heard Henderson’s chair squeak as though the man were leaning forward suddenly. “Poisonous?”

“Not to humans. Only to Kryptonians.”

“Poisonous to you then?”

“Yes. Luthor had a cage coated with it,” Clark said, trying to keep the trembling out of his voice. To have been treated like an animal, tortured in so many ways—well, he suspected it would be some time before he could even say “cage” without feeling ill. He forced himself to continue. “He may have had other pieces.”

“I saw the cage.”

Clark heard something in Henderson’s voice—disgust? And maybe compassion? “Do you think you can dispose of it, quietly? Lead will block the radiation. I’d hate for any other criminals to get their hands on it.”

Henderson was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “Yeah, Superman. As I said, the MPD owes you.”

“Thank you, Inspector. If you find any pieces, would you seal them in a lead box and give them to Clark Kent?”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“I’d appreciate it. I’ll let Clark know that you may be contacting him.”

***

Clark felt a little bit better after wrapping up that loose end. Now he just wanted sleep, hours and hours of it. Despite being bone weary, however, sleep proved elusive. He couldn’t stop thinking about what would come after sleep, what would come tomorrow—whether he would return to his apartment, whether he would see Lois. Someone else’s options would be simple. Someone else could stay or go. He wasn’t someone else. Superman might be gone forever, but he couldn’t count on that.

His head hurt, from the Kryptonite or from trying to make sense of the past few weeks; he didn’t know. There had to be a way for it to make sense. There had to be a way to sort through his options. Lois would be making a list. Maybe it was worth a try. Her lists always seemed to pull diverse facts and create a whole.

He flipped the light back on, grabbed the ubiquitous hotel notepad, and began to write. Clark could leave and Superman could stay. Clark could stay and Superman could leave. Both could stay. Both could go. And then of course, there was the reality that nagged at him: if he stayed, in either guise, what about Lois? Would they try to repair their relationships, either of them? Did he want to? Did she want to? She had looked for him after her failed wedding. Good old Clark. Always-there-for-her Clark. Why the hell would he be at her wedding to another man? Of course, Perry, Jimmy and Jack had been there, but only to bring Luthor down and to save Lois. Maybe he was being unfair; Clark would have come for those kind of reasons. Maybe she had a right to expect him there.

He stopped that line of thought and started a new list. Clark could stay and have a relationship with Lois while Superman stayed and didn’t have a relationship with her. It would solve the problem he’d created when he’d created his alter-ego. Lois had been devastated by Superman’s rejection. He’d heard it in the hitch of her breath and the pound of her heartbeat as it sped up. He’d heard it in the tears she’d hidden from Superman. Maybe she’d been devastated enough to move on, to allow Clark a chance.

And yet—somehow, someday, if they were ever to have the sort of relationship he wanted, they’d have to deal with Superman’s rejection. Maybe he’d best rebuild that bridge rather than burning it to the ground, at least if he decided to pursue her. And there, that was the crux of the matter: Did he want to pursue her? Did he want a woman who had been so terrible to him?

And so wonderful, his conscience reminded him.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know if he could bear to keep her in his life. He didn’t know if he could bear to lose her again.

His fingers clenched around the list as he re-realized she’d never been his to lose. She’d been the worst sort of tease—throwing herself at him one moment and putting him down the next.

But not on purpose. She didn’t know. You haven’t told her that you’re Superman.

Clark forced his hands to relax and smoothed out the paper once more. The reality was that he didn’t know what he wanted. He hated her, hated what she’d done to him, hated what she’d done to them. He hated feeling this confused. He hated that he still loved her.

He couldn’t forgive her, but he couldn’t leave her.

… Which meant that he couldn’t leave Metropolis. Until his feelings settled one way or the other, he needed to stay and try to figure things out. But that did not mean being best friends with Lois Lane. Not yet. And until his powers came back, Superman couldn’t mend or burn any bridges.

***

Lois woodenly settled herself in the car. She stared at the back of the driver’s seat, unseeing, her wedding dress fluffed around her. Lex was dead. Clark was missing. And Clark had been right. She held in a sob. She tried to make sense of what Perry had told her, but it wasn’t working. She couldn’t even come up with the questions to ask. She shivered. Lex had been dirty enough to kill himself, rather than give himself up. He must have known he’d have been looking at a long prison sentence. And she needed Clark.

“How can you say that, Lois?” Jack demanded.

She forced herself to look in his direction, tried to make her eyes focus. “Say what?”

“You just said that you need Clark,” he said flatly.

Oh, she’d said that part out loud. She wondered if she’d said anything else out loud. “I do,” she admitted, her throat tight.

“You broke his heart, Lois! How can you ask for him now? Especially when your fiancé probably had him—”

“Jack!” Perry admonished.

Jack subsided, but Lois heard what he’d left unsaid. Her criminal fiancé might be why Clark was missing. They really believed Lex was capable of kidnapping—although she had no idea why Lex would have had Clark kidnapped.

“What arson was it?” she asked, hoping this might give her a clue as to Clark’s whereabouts. She remembered that was what Henderson had arrested Lex for—that and other unmentioned crimes. Lex had once told her that he’d done things he wasn’t proud of, and she’d always assumed that he hadn’t gotten to where he was without bending a few rules—much as she’d done in her line of work—but she’d assumed that he’d meant things like fudging on his taxes or other white-collar crimes. Arson and doing something to Clark were a whole different ball game.

“Maybe we should talk about that later, honey,” Perry said, sounding surprisingly tender for her gruff editor-in-chief.

“No,” she said. Didn’t he understand that she needed to know? Needed to find Clark?

“We’ll be at Clark’s soon; we can talk then,” Perry said.

“Clark’s?”

“Yeah, we’ve been bunkin’ with him the past couple of weeks, and there are probably reporters crawlin’ all over your place.”

She slumped back into the seat. Clark’s. Maybe he’d be there. Maybe then she could figure out what was going on.

***

As they walked in Clark’s door, the emptiness hit her. He wasn’t here.

“Do you, uh, want to change into somethin’ else, darlin’?” Perry asked.

“Yeah,” Lois said blankly. She didn’t have anything else with her.

“I’m sure Clark wouldn’t mind if you borrowed somethin’, or one of us can lend you somethin’.”

“Yeah,” she said again. Clark wouldn’t mind. He’d lent her clothes before when they’d been here late, working on a story. If he was missing ….

“Chief, there’s a message on the machine!” Jimmy said, then pressed the play button.

Clark’s voice filled the apartment. “Hey guys, it’s Clark. I, uh, heard the latest about Luthor. Sorry I missed out on the end of the investigation. I’ll check back in a couple of days. Feel free to stay at my place.”

Lois noticed that Jimmy and Jack seemed overcome with relief. They’d really been worried about Clark.

“He’s alive,” Jimmy whispered.

“Yeah, but where is he? Why didn’t he say if he was okay?” Jack said. “And where was he?”

“We’ll just have to ask Clark when he gets back,” Perry said firmly, giving the guys a sharp glance. “Now, Lois, were you goin’ to change?”

“Change. Right.” She forced herself to walk back into Clark’s bedroom. Sweats were in the bottom drawer. T-shirts in the middle drawer. She collected what she needed then went back into the bathroom. They’d really been worried for Clark’s life. Why hadn’t he said where he was or if he was okay? She shook her head, trying to clear it. Change first, then worry about the rest, she thought, and then promptly realized she had no idea how to get out of her wedding dress … If Clark were here, she could have asked him to help. It would have been awkward, but less awkward than asking anyone else.

Oh, Clark, where are you? I need you!

How could he leave her like this? It wasn’t like Clark to just duck out and leave his friends high and dry—well, actually, it was, but she never would have thought he’d do it now, not when he had to know that she’d need him. She grimaced at herself in the mirror as a sudden thought hit her. She couldn’t believe what she was thinking. Lois Lane didn’t need people to get her undressed. That was Lois Luthor, and she refused to be Lois Luthor.

A tiny spark of anger lit inside her. She’d gotten herself into this mess, and she’d get herself out of it. She twisted and turned, trying to grab hold of the darn buttons. If she could just get the first couple undone, she thought she’d be able to reach the rest. After five minutes of trying nicely, she gave up. She’d been nice for far too long anyway—going along with Lex’s plan for their wedding, Lex’s choice of her wedding dress, Lex’s blueprints for their house. She strode grimly out into the main area. Jimmy and Jack were sitting on the couch with the TV on. Perry was in the kitchen, looking through Clark’s cupboards.

“Lois? You okay?” Perry asked. “I thought you were goin’ to change.”

“I am going to change,” she said through gritted teeth. “I just need”—she dug through the appropriate kitchen drawer and held up Clark’s scissors—”these,” she said, and whirled around, heading back into the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, she was able to cut enough of the dress to enable her to wrestle it off. It was hideous anyway. No one would be mourning its loss. No one would be mourning the loss of Lois Luthor.

She put on one of Clark’s T-shirts and a pair of sweatpants his mom had left the last time she’d visited, and then bundled the dress into a pile. She’d find somewhere to pitch it sometime soon—unless, did she need to return it to Lex’s lawyer or the police, along with her ring? Something else to figure out later.

Time for some answers. She tried to still the trembling deep within her and to fan the anger. Now was not the time to fall apart. She’d survived her mother’s alcoholism and her father’s affairs. She’d survived her parents’ divorce. She’d survived Linda’s disloyalty and Claude’s betrayal. She would survive this too.

She walked back out and sat on the chair across from Jimmy and Jack. “Okay, spill. What arson?” she demanded.

Jimmy and Jack just stared at her.

Perry came and sat down too. “Well, darlin’, the reason Jack here isn’t under arrest is because we found out he’d been framed.” He took a deep breath. “Luthor was the one behind the bombin’ of the Daily Planet.”

“Lex was? Are you sure?” Lois asked, her voice almost a whisper.

“Yeah, honey. I’m sorry,” Perry said.

“So that was the arson?”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

“What do you mean what else?” Perry asked, stalling.

“Henderson said there were other crimes.”

Perry sighed. “Lois, even Elvis knew when he needed to take a break. You’ve been through a lot today.”

Jimmy shook his head. “Chief, you know Lois is happiest when she has the most information. Just tell her.”

Lois threw Jimmy a grateful look. “Jimmy’s right, Chief. I need to know. I can’t just take a break. I need to know.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, Chief, Lois should know what a great guy her fiancé was,” he drawled.

Perry glared at Jack. “All right. I only know the most recent stuff. Clark has some information on earlier events. Luthor—uh, Lex—was ‘The Boss.’”

Lois gasped. “The Boss?” She’d never fainted in her entire life, never even felt close, but now she felt light-headed. She’d heard occasional whispers of a shadowy criminal who ran a lot of the crime in Metropolis called, “The Boss,” but no one would talk, and she knew better than to risk her sources’ lives by pushing for information they couldn’t safely give. Investigating The Boss had been on her back burner for over a year.

“Yeah.”

“So those other crimes too numerous to mention were related to Lex being ‘The Boss’? Or is there more I should know about?”

“We found out that Luthor was behind all the financial troubles the Planet was havin’ right before he bought it,” Perry admitted reluctantly.

“So let me get this straight: Lex sabotaged the Planet, then bought it out once it was about to go under, and then blew it up?”

“Pretty much,” Perry said.

“Okay. Well.” Lois stood up and began fiddling with the souvenirs Clark had displayed on his bookshelves. This was all too much to take in. A part of her kept expecting to wake up and find it was all a nightmare or that she’d somehow slipped into an alternate universe; this place bore such little resemblance to the reality she’d thought she lived in. The only thing she knew was that she needed to be alone. Now. Before she reacted badly in front of anyone. Her apartment was out—unless she could sneak in there somehow. Maybe a hotel room at least for tonight. And a disguise for tomorrow.

“Lois?” Perry said.

“Chief, I think I need some time to myself. I’ll find a hotel room; at least, do you know where my purse got to? Did you guys happen to pick it up or my keys?”

Jimmy and Jack shook their heads.

“Um, no,” Perry said.

“Oh, well, maybe my mother has them.”

***

An hour later Lois had managed to ascertain that her mother was at home, drunk as a sailor, but that she had Lois’s things. Perry took her over to her mother’s house to pick them up, and then dropped her off at a hotel. Before she’d left, Lois had collected a few things from Clark’s and her mother’s to aid in her disguise. She sat down on the hotel bed, holding herself perfectly still, trying to slow the multitude of feelings fighting to escape.

She was supposed to go to the police station tomorrow to talk to Henderson. It was not going to be pleasant to tell him that she’d been completely fooled by Lex’s façade. How was she ever going to work as a reporter in this city again? She held her breath. Focus on what she needed to do. Think about Lex later. And where was Clark? Was he really okay? Why had he left her alone? The tightness in her chest intensified. They’d parted on such bad terms the last time they’d spoken, but then Clark had helped to prove that Lex was a criminal—before she’d been tied to him for the rest of her life. He’d saved her life, again. But if he cared, why hadn’t he been at the wedding? Maybe he didn’t care anymore.

Think about Clark later. Figure out now. What did she need to do now?

She found the complimentary hotel notepad and began making a list. She had to give her statement to Henderson. She needed to quit LNN—there was no way she could work anywhere connected with Lex. Why had she ever thought that she could do television anyway? She had to figure out her apartment—she’d already given her landlord notice. Hopefully, he hadn’t rented her apartment to someone else. Maybe she should call her landlord today. She had her keys and purse now.

She still needed a few things to finish off her disguise. Although did she really want to disguise herself? Yes, she’d been duped by Lex Luthor. But did she want to compound the injury to her reputation by hiding from the press? Maybe the best thing to do was to just bite the bullet—tell the press that it was her story and to back off.

Did she feel up to that? No, but it didn’t matter. She was going to do it anyway. If she couldn’t handle the press, she really had gone soft.

She began to pace the hotel room, wondering how the heck she’d gotten herself into this situation. She’d been the best investigative reporter in the city and had somehow missed Lex’s true nature so spectacularly as to almost marry the man—it wasn’t like she’d missed out on his character from afar; she’d been supposedly as close to him as anyone in his life, and she’d still missed out on it. Her hands clenched into fists. She could feel her fingernails digging into her palms, providing a welcome counterpoint to the emotions rocketing through her body. She went back over the past several months. What clues had she missed?

She sank to the bed as the facts of her situation once more hit her: she had been duped by The Boss and now her life was in tatters. No job. Perry and Jimmy were still her friends, but Clark, the one person in her life that she needed, hadn’t been there. She was alone. When the Planet had been destroyed, she’d felt adrift, and so she’d latched onto the security that Lex had offered. She’d acted like she, Lois Lane, had needed a man to be safe. What a crock! She didn’t need anyone.

Not even Clark? her conscience prodded.

“Not even Clark,” she said out loud, as though making a vow.

***

The next day Lois strode up to her apartment building and bulldozed her way through the mass of reporters, all the while refusing to comment. Luckily, her landlord hadn’t yet rented out her apartment, so she’d been able to renew her lease. Her answering machine was full of messages from people wanting to interview her about Lex, or offering her money for a kiss-and-tell story. She decided that if she was going to sell her story, it’d be to the Planet—if by some miracle it ever got rebuilt. After changing into one of her favorite business suits, she headed to the police station.

***

Lois sat in Henderson’s office, giving him her statement. Fortunately, so far he’d been impassive about her lack of judgment—no digs about her missing out on Lex’s true nature despite her reputation. But, now that she’d started pushing him for information in return, he was being less than helpful.

“Henderson, what do you mean you can’t give me anything?” Lois demanded.

Henderson gave her a long look. “Lane, you’re not even working as a journalist right now. Why do you need to know?”

“I’m going to freelance,” she said flatly. “So spill.”

“Can’t. I’ve got an exclusive agreement with Kent. He was the one who headed up the initial investigation, and, as far as I know, you aren’t working with him,” Henderson said, his arms folded loosely across his chest.

“Henderson, Clark doesn’t have a job right now. And anyway, I have more information about Lex than he does.”

Henderson raised an eyebrow. “I thought you just got done telling me that you didn’t know anything about Luthor’s crimes.”

Lois rolled her eyes. “I don’t. But I do know his associates.”

“His criminal associates? You holding out on me, Lane?”

“Of course not, Henderson. Although it’s quite possible that some of his business associates were also his criminal associates,” she added, thinking of how slimy some of those people had seemed.

Henderson shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I still have an agreement with Kent. If he tells me to talk to you, I might be willing to reconsider.”

Lois could tell that Henderson was going to stonewall her. He was one of the few people who could stand up to Mad Dog Lane when push came to shove. “Fine! Do you need anything else?”

“No, Lois,” Henderson said quietly. “Just to let you know: the FBI may want to talk to you too. I’ll pass along your statement, but they may want to go over it with you.”

Lois stood. “Noted,” she said and walked out of Henderson’s office.

***

Lois slammed the door to her Jeep, then slumped into the seat. Great. It wasn’t bad enough to have all the papers speculating on her capability as a reporter and as a person—the FBI wanted to get in on the action too.

Well, what did you expect? Lex was “The Boss,” and you didn’t even notice. Your famed reporter’s instincts didn’t once go off, despite the fact that Clark tried to tell you about him, she thought derisively.

Her jaw tightened. She was the only reporter in Metropolis with three Kerths. What was wrong with her reporter’s instincts? Had Lex really been that good, or had she been that blind?

Perry had told her yesterday that he was trying to find someone to buy the Planet, but even if he did, how could she ever presume to go back to her old job? Would the new owner even want her?

Her spine straightened. What was she thinking? Any owner who didn’t want a three-time Kerth award winner was an idiot. Besides, this was one instance. How many other criminals had she put in jail through her work? Maybe she couldn’t put Lex in jail now, but she could figure out what he’d been hiding. So what if he was dead? Since when had Lois Lane let a little speed bump like that stop her? And once she’d written up all his dealings, no one would dare to say that she wasn’t a top reporter. And that meant she’d have to talk to Clark.

It might not be all bad. Clark had abandoned her yesterday, but apparently he’d worked for weeks before that to bring Lex down. On the way to her mother’s house, Perry had said that Clark had been the heart and soul of the investigation—and that he’d been frantic to save her, not simply to bring Lex down. Clark could be useful. She just had to be careful not to depend on him too much. And the reality was that she owed him an apology. She had closed the door on a romantic relationship with him weeks ago, and, given how things were going in her life now, she intended to stick with that decision, no matter what she’d thought on her wedding day. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t resume their friendship.

***

Two days later Lois headed to Clark’s apartment. She’d been through two days of hell, trying to explain to the numbskulls at the FBI that she really hadn’t been aware of Lex’s criminal activities. They’d refused to give her any indication of what information they were fishing for, so she’d spent hours repeating herself, all while watching agent after agent smirk through her discomfort. After extracting a promise that she would contact them if she thought of anything else pertinent to their investigation—like she’d help them after the way she’d been treated!—they let her go. She had planned to talk to Clark the day she’d talked to Henderson, but with one thing and another, today was her first chance. She just hoped he’d be in his apartment and not still off wherever he’d been.

***

Three days after the Luthor-Lane wedding fiasco, Clark found himself sitting on the couch in his apartment. Yesterday the guys had moved into Perry’s old house, which hadn’t sold. He’d been able to get away with telling them that he’d realized Luthor was after him, and he’d gone into hiding. Not very complimentary to himself, leaving his friends in the lurch, but it was the truth—when viewed in a certain light. He was thankful for the privacy. But having no powers meant that Clark had lots and lots of time on his hands: Time to feel the lingering pain and exhaustion that lived in every cell of his body. Time to fight against watching or reading the news and seeing the death counts in article after article of Superman-less disasters. Time to avoid seeing Lois and to re-examine the hamster wheel his thoughts of her inevitably turned into. Even though he ached for her presence, he hadn’t felt up to seeing her mourn her dead lover or to teasing her out of her depression.

A knock sounded. Clark pulled his glasses down, and then growled in frustration. He missed his powers. The knocking continued. He pulled on the long-sleeve shirt he had sitting nearby in case of company and opened the door. Lois. Dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she still looked beautiful to him. And yet, somehow, seeing her made something in him feel so cold, so numb. He suppressed a shiver.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

“Can I come in?” she asked, taking a step towards him.

“Sure.” Clark stepped aside and gestured to the couch. “Have a seat.”

Lois sat down. Clark gingerly sat down in the chair opposite, checking that most of his Kryptonite burns remained hidden by his long-sleeve shirt and arranging his hands so the rest were inconspicuous. Before he would have sat next to her. Before he would have broken the awkward silence. Heck, before there wouldn’t have been an awkward silence. But now it was after, and somehow when he looked at her, it was as though he were looking through the wrong end of a telescope, as though he were watching himself with her, but not present.

Lois wasn’t quite sure how to start this conversation. “How’ve you been?” she asked.

“Fine. How about you?” Clark asked in a monotone.

Lois grimaced. So that was how it was going to be. “Oh, well, you know.” She took a deep breath. Maybe if she apologized now, Clark would be more willing to let Henderson talk to her, and she really did owe him an apology. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. You told me to investigate Lex, and I didn’t. I should have listened to you. I should have trusted your instincts the way you would have trusted mine.”

Clark gave a small shrug. He really had no idea what to say to that. “I never had any hard proof, at least not until just before your—until just a few days ago. I would have told you more if I’d had proof.” Clark hesitated, trying to find something else to say. Lois never admitted that she was wrong. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that Luthor wasn’t one of the good guys.” That was true. Their lives would have all been so much better if Luthor really had been the philanthropist he’d portrayed himself as.

“Yeah. I still can’t believe I didn’t see it. Some investigative reporter I am,” she muttered, looking down at her hands in her lap.

“He was very good at what he did. Most people didn’t see it,” he said, his tone almost clinical.

“You did.”

There was no response to that, so he just sat in silence. She had come to him; she could be responsible for carrying the conversation.

“Well, that sort of brings me to why I came,” Lois said, her hands twisting awkwardly in her lap.

“Oh?”

“Clark, I want to investigate him.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think it’s a little late for that?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t. There are stories to be written. Lex is—was—big news. People still barely believe he was a criminal. Perry told me some of the information you’d collected, and Henderson already said he’d agreed to give us the exclusive since you and Perry dug up the proof.”

“I see. You came because you want the rest of the information.” No surprise there, he thought bitterly. Of course Lois wanted to take advantage of all his hard work. Of course Lois had talked Henderson into giving her an exclusive even though he’d done the work. Back to the status quo.

“No, I came because I want to investigate him with you. Didn’t you hear what I said? Henderson will give us the exclusive—not me.” She hesitated, then added, “He actually refused to talk to me alone. I need to do this Clark. I need to figure out what I missed and how I missed it. I need to figure out if it was me or him. I need to do this for me, but I want to do it with you,” she said, and he could hear the raw pain in her voice.

“Lois, you don’t have a paper to write for. The Planet is gone,” he said flatly.

“Neither do you! Anyway, Perry’s trying to find someone to rebuild the Planet, but even if he doesn’t, I’m sure we could sell stories to the AP or to some other paper.”

“I’m sure we could.”

“So will you?” Lois asked, almost holding her breath in the face of his emotionless silence.

Clark stared at the floor. Should he? Did he want to? Investigating Luthor would at least fill all his empty moments. And really, Superman should be doing something to atone for his stupidity. This would, after all, give him a chance to put his plan into practice—to interact with Lois and to try to push the scale one way or the other, to kill the love or let go of the hate. “All right,” he said quietly. “When do you want to start?” he asked, now looking at her.

“Um, well, I don’t want to interfere with anything you have going on.”

“My schedule is currently wide open,” he said politely.

“Okay, then. How about now?”

“Now is fine. Would you like some coffee?”

“Um, yeah. Coffee sounds good,” she said, hoping the familiarity of routine would serve to thaw Clark a little.

“Then I’ll grab my Luthor notes, and you can look over them while I make the coffee.”

“Sure.”

Clark walked into his bedroom and collected the appropriate files as though on auto-pilot. Lois moved to the kitchen table so they could spread out.

“Here you go,” Clark said, passing her the pile of folders. “I don’t have much.”

Lois frowned. That “not much” had been enough to get Lex arrested. Although given how Henderson had responded …. “I had to give my statement to Henderson yesterday. From what he didn’t say, I’d imagine he knows quite a bit more by now,” she commented.

“I’m not surprised.”

Lois fingered the files, unsure of how to reply. She’d been shocked when she’d heard that there was more, but it hadn’t phased Clark a bit. Although what was it that he’d said about Lex? That he was a thief, gangster, psychopath, and murderer. Maybe nothing would surprise Clark. She sighed.

***

By the time she left Clark’s apartment, Lois was exhausted. Clark had been unfailingly polite, which was almost worse than anything she’d imagined. She’d prepared herself for anger or bitterness or friendship. She hadn’t planned on being relegated to strangerhood by her former best friend. Lois knew things had been rocky between them for weeks, really ever since she’d started spending more time with Lex. The fights they’d had at Perry’s retirement dinner and later when she’d seen Clark on the street had been brutal, but they’d had fights before and worked through them just fine. She’d thought Lex was the problem, and, now that he was out of the way, they could resume their friendship, or at least fight about their issues and then resume their friendship. She’d always thought that she’d be the one relegating Clark to strangerhood if anyone was going to do that sort of thing. She’d never in a million years thought Clark would shut her out.

Lex, deal with Lex now; Clark later, she reminded herself firmly.

The day had been eye-opening in that respect. On her wedding day she’d been shell-shocked to find out that Lex had been The Boss and behind the bombing at the Planet, but if Clark was right, being The Boss was far bigger than anything she’d imagined. They’d gone over Clark’s notes on Lex’s involvement with the tests on Superman, her father’s cyborg boxers, the Toaster’s, the Metamide 5 experiments, the nuclear plant heatwave debacle that had almost driven Superman out of Metropolis, Miranda’s pheromone, and the Superman clone. Clark had even found hints that Lex had been involved in drug smuggling, gun running, and prostitution rings. How could she have missed out on such evil? How could she have looked Lex in the eye and not seen through the mask? Now she knew what those terrorists at the Planet had meant when they’d said they’d be better off with the cops on their tail than Lex. Her fingers tightened round the steering wheel. What if she’d missed vital clues in other investigations?

Lois groaned. Who was she kidding? She’d never begun investigating Lex, so this wasn’t another investigation. She had missed all those clues about Lex. She had refused to admit that she could be wrong and had stayed on her set course just to prove that she wasn’t wrong—and the whole thing had blown up on her spectacularly. Lois Lane had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was fallible. Maybe she should just throw in the towel. Like Clark had said, the Planet was gone. Maybe it was time for Lois Lane, investigative reporter, to go too. She could move into some other field—something she was more qualified for, something she wasn’t such a spectacular failure at. She could start over.

She snorted. Right. Lex had re-proven that she was a failure at love, a failure at life. And what was left when you got rid of a personal life and a profession? She was a failure through and through. Her father was right, she thought dully. If only she hadn’t talked Clark into investigating Lex. Then she wouldn’t have to know what a horrible person he was. She could have just pretended that she hadn’t gotten married because she’d realized she didn’t love Lex, and ignored the fact that her criminal fiancé had thrown himself off a building rather than go to jail. People confused their feelings all the time. People didn’t almost marry mobsters all the time, especially people whose job it was to expose the truth others hid.

Lois parked her Jeep and squared her shoulders. Time to walk into her apartment building. The mob of journalists had left, but she still refused to seem anything less than confident in front of anyone who might know about her failed wedding—which was pretty much everyone in Metropolis, thanks to the media. So, head held high, she walked in.

***

It had been three weeks since Lois’s failed wedding. Franklin Stern had bought the Planet and managed to find temporary office space, but it was a cramped sea of beige cubicles and fluorescent lights—a far cry from the soul-filled newsroom at the Planet. They’d been there for a week, and Lois had expected the strangeness between her and Clark to be gone by now.

Once again she found herself studying him. His body was here, going through the motions. In fact, he seemed to be in the office even more than he’d been before; no running off on sudden errands he’d abruptly remembered—maybe his memory was getting better. Regardless, Clark had closed himself off from her and everyone else. She’d done the same thing when Claude had broken her heart, until Clark had coaxed his way into her life and somehow changed her, made it possible for her to open up to others. Now Clark was the unreachable one. Any time she tried talking about their personal lives, Clark clammed up and changed the subject or calmly suggested that their time would be better spent on work. And now that things were winding down with the Luthor investigation, Perry had been putting them on separate stories. Lois hadn’t felt up to asking him if Clark had requested the time apart—she didn’t want to know.

It’s probably for the best, she told herself for the hundredth time. She needed to focus on overcoming this career setback. She needed to re-establish her credibility. She had no time for a relationship, even for a best friend. Plus, she cared about Clark too much to start anything romantically. She was the kiss of death to any relationship. He was much better off without her, and obviously, he’d figured that out. She sighed. If only she didn’t miss him so much.

***

Clark resolutely studied his computer screen. He could feel Lois looking at him, and he had no desire to return her gaze. Three weeks of distance between them—more really, since the distance had begun long before her wedding. Three weeks of investigating Luthor and uncovering the depths of his criminal activities. He could tell it was wearing on Lois, but he still couldn’t make himself comfort her. She was the one who had chosen Luthor after all. It wasn’t his fault that she’d refused to listen to him. He hadn’t created the chasm between them, and he still wasn’t ready to try to bridge it. He wasn’t even sure it could be bridged anymore.

Superman hadn’t returned yet, though his super-hearing was beginning to kick in sporadically. He almost wished it hadn’t, that some other power would be first or that all his powers would come back at once. Every day people died because Superman was on vacation, and every day Clark died a little too. His parents tried to help him, but they didn’t really understand—no one really could; no one had ever been in his position. Clark heard Lois sigh. He sighed too. They were both hurting, both running, both unable to be where they were, and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

***

Perry scrubbed a hand over his face. From inside his office he could see Lois looking at Clark and Clark studiously ignoring her. He’d assigned them temporary desks where he could keep an eye on things, but that hadn’t helped him figure out what to do with those two. They were like his children, and he’d had such hopes. The four of them had rescued Lois, but it seemed like Clark had been the cost of that rescue. Perry had tried to talk to Clark a number of times, but the young man was more resistant to opening up than ever before. He listened politely to any number of Elvis stories, but refused to talk about Lois.

Perry leaned back in his chair, staring at the Elvis portrait on his wall. He couldn’t decide if it would be better to keep his two star reporters busy on separate stories or throw them together for an extended period of time to force them to talk. Although the reality was that neither of them would react well if they were forced to do much of anything. He’d let them have their space for now, but if this coldness continued for much longer, he was going to get involved. The last thing he needed was for one of them to leave, or for his newsroom to go to hell in a handbasket.

***

When Lois got home that night, she had a message from her sister Lucy. She wasn’t feeling up to talking to anyone, but decided she should probably check to make sure Lucy was okay.

*Ring* *Ring* *Ring*

“Hello.”

“Hey, Lucy, it’s me. I got your message. What’s up?” Lois said, kicking off her shoes.

“Hey, Lois!” came her sister’s cheery response. “I was just calling to see how you’re doing.”

“Oh,” Lois said, winding the phone cord around her finger.

“C’mon, Lois, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking. How’re you doing?” she answered, hoping her sister would leave it at that.

“Lo-is. This is me. I know I’m just your little sister, but I care. I heard all about the bombing and wedding fiasco from our mother. It sounds like things have been a disaster. You can’t really be ‘fine.’”

Lois shrugged. There was too much to talk about and it was all too raw. She settled on work as a fairly neutral topic, and work was going fine—at least from a purely professional standpoint. “Clark and I are working hard on the investigation,” Lois said quietly.

“And?”

“And”—Lois sighed, realizing Lucy would badger her until she caved—”Luce, I can’t believe the stuff we’re finding out about Lex. How could I have ended up with him?” she wailed.

“You didn’t end up with him,” Lucy said promptly. “Ellen said you didn’t marry him, and that’s why you won’t inherit anything.”

“You know what I mean.”

Lucy sighed. “Yeah, I do,” she said soberly. “I’ve always thought bad judgment in men was sort of hereditary for Lane women,” she added.

Lois wasn’t sure what to say to that. Lucy had ended up with a long string of losers, and it was true that their father was chronically unfaithful and that Lois herself had ended up in a series of federal-disaster relationships. “But you’ve never gotten engaged to a many times over murderer,” Lois reminded her.

“I’m sorry, Lois.”

“Me too.”

Lucy hesitated, then asked, “How’s Clark?”

Clark. Just thinking about him caused the ache in her middle to intensify. Lex had been bad enough. How was she supposed to handle all this without her best friend? She’d never realized how much she’d depended on Clark until he’d stopped being her rock. She’d never realized how different her life had been before he’d coaxed his way in. She used to be self-sufficient. She’d never needed anyone before him. Her parents’ issues and divorce, the fiasco with Linda and Paul, as well as Claude’s betrayal, had all so completely shattered her ability to trust that she’d stopped letting people in. She’d even kept Jimmy and Perry at arm’s length. But Clark had taught her how to be a friend, how to open up to people, and now she felt alone. She had Jimmy and Perry, but they weren’t Clark. She wondered what he would do if she went over to his apartment and begged him to take her back into his life.

No, it’s a good thing. This gives me time to focus on my career. And anyway, when have I ever needed a man? she reminded herself.

Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t true, but she couldn’t face the fact that Clark had realized how unlovable she really was.

“Lois? Are you still there?” Lucy called.

“Yeah,” she managed, her throat tight.

“Lois, how’s Clark?”

“He’s—I don’t really know how he is. Not good, I guess. Oh Luce, I miss him so much,” she choked out.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know exactly. I mean, I know it’s my fault for ignoring his warnings about Lex and for choosing Lex over him. Ever since my wedding, Clark’s been—well, he treats me like a stranger. We still work together, but he’s polite now, almost to the point of coldness. I don’t know how to explain it, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“I’m so sorry, Lois. That sounds awful.”

The sisters sat in silence for a moment, then Lois asked, “So, how are you doing?”

“Pretty okay. I’m still working at the club. I did meet a really great guy last week. We’ll see if he pans out.”

Lois thought briefly of warning Lucy to be careful, but then remembered she had no room to talk. At least Lucy still had the same job as when she’d talked to her the last time. “I’m glad you’re doing all right. Thanks for listening, Luce. I should probably—”

“Hey Lois?” Lucy interrupted.

“Yeah?”

“I know how you feel about therapy and shrinks, but I was just thinking that it might help to talk to someone about all this, especially since you can’t talk to Clark right now.”

“Mmm.”

“If you decide you want to talk to a professional—well, I’ve never mentioned this before, but when I was living in Metropolis the last time, I saw someone, and she was really great. I mean, obviously, I still have a lot to work through—who wouldn’t with our childhood?—but it felt good to get some of it out. Her name is Dr. Ruth Friskin. I can get you her information if you decide you want it.”

“Okay. I’ll think about it. Thanks, Lucy.”

“Sure, Lois. Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do. I hope things get better with Clark soon.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Bye then.”

“Bye, Lucy.”

As Lois hung up the phone, she thought about Lucy’s suggestion. Did she want to talk to someone? There were days when she felt like she couldn’t even breathe from the sheer amount of disaster surrounding her. Her life was like a war zone. She still had no idea how she’d gotten herself into this place. Although, the more she’d thought about it, the more she’d realized that Lex had a good deal to do with the disaster—in blowing up the Planet, he’d lobbed a bomb into her life. She’d never realized what a stabilizing force the Planet had been until it was gone. She’d felt cast adrift and desperate for any port in the storm. Lex had been that stability, especially given how rocky things had been with Clark and with Superman’s rejection. Perry had moved on. Jimmy had moved on. She’d never been able to depend on her family. She’d been alone, except for Lex. Clark had carefully refrained from imputing any motives to Lex for bombing the Planet, but she wondered if isolating her was part of Lex’s rationale. Of course, it was ultimately her fault for letting Lex into her life.

Abruptly, Lois went to the freezer. Thinking like this called for ice cream. So why had she agreed to marry Lex? Was it just the security he’d offered? She’d spent hours trying to make sense of the mess, trying to remember what she’d been thinking, but she’d been unable to find anything sensible about the whole thing. She’d arrogantly assumed that she knew how to run her life better than anyone else. Clark hadn’t offered any proof of Lex’s criminal activities—only vague warnings and a jealous manner—and Lex had seemed so charming. She didn’t usually trust people—especially men—but she’d trusted Lex, and she trusted Clark and Superman. His philanthropy had convinced her, along with almost everyone else, that Lex had a good heart—in a way, she’d thought of him like Superman: using his powers for good.

Maybe a list would help? She put the ice cream away and went back to her bedroom. She changed into comfy clothes and pulled out a notebook. What had she seen in Lex? He was charming. He had a forceful personality—she couldn’t run over him, which was a must for her. And, even though she hadn’t been looking to become rich, the fact that she’d never have to worry about money had played a part in it, especially once the Planet was gone, and she was facing the spectre of unemployment. Plus, Lex had opened up possibilities—his wealth allowed him to offer her the ability to see the world and the status to see behind some of those closed doors. He’d been attractive—at least until the arrest, when she’d seen the arrogance and violence lurking beneath his exterior … although she had to admit that kisses with Clark or Superman had both moved her far more than any kiss with Lex. And she’d been flattered to have one of the world’s most eligible bachelors pursuing her.

It was amazing how she always ended up with such jerks. Maybe Lucy was right—Lane women were pathologically incapable of having relationships with nice guys.

Lois curled up in a ball on her bed and sobbed herself to sleep once again.

***

Clark stared at the phone. For some reason tonight he had the strangest urge to call Lois and see how she was doing. They hadn’t talked on the phone since that fateful conversation before her wedding. It was amazing how heavy the handset had become since then. He mentally shrugged. Even if Lois wasn’t doing well, she wasn’t likely to confide in him anymore. He’d driven her lover to his death after all. And the reality was that he still couldn’t bring himself to comfort her over the loss of Luthor.

He decided to take a quick jog. Ever since he’d lost his powers, it had been harder and harder to sleep at night. He was exhausted, but he had nightmares when he did fall asleep and insomnia the rest of the time, probably from worrying about what Superman wasn’t doing any given night. He’d never realized how badly he needed to help, or how small Metropolis was when you couldn’t simply fly anywhere in the world to take a break from being here. Jogging for a couple of hours before bed managed to wear him out enough that some nights he was too tired even to dream.

The first time Clark had gone night jogging, he’d been tempted to check up on the city, but quickly decided that until his powers returned, he’d have to be circumspect. It’d be ridiculous if he died in a mugging after escaping Luthor’s cage. By now he had a set route. It wasn’t as good as flying, but he liked jogging. It made him feel like he was getting somewhere, and there was something so soothing about the city’s quiet, the sound of his feet hitting the sidewalk, the cool of the evening. And the repetitive motion left his mind free.

He’d called his parents today, brimming over with frustration. He just wasn’t sure he could take being in the same newsroom with Lois much longer. His feelings remained frozen in ambivalence, so he doubted that he could leave her, but he wasn’t sure how to stay without losing his sanity. His mother had suggested that he write it all down somewhere. She was right that he’d spent a lot of time writing during his teenage years and that it had helped. He remembered breaking down in his treehouse and writing about how he’d seen through a wall. It was the first time he’d been forced to accept that he was different. He’d been able to pretend that being stronger and faster than other kids his age was just a matter of good, normal human genes. Even the fact that he rarely got sick or hurt seemed like plain old good luck. But when he’d seen through that wall at school, and his parents had finally told him exactly how they’d found him—well, he’d gone from being a normal human boy to being a freak, all in the space of hours. And so he’d poured out all the confusion and anger into his notebook.

Writing hadn’t been his only way of dealing with his differences, but it had definitely been one of the main ones. He just wasn’t sure if writing down this situation was wise. After he’d become Superman, he’d been more careful than ever about what he actually put down on paper. And somehow, his emotions almost felt too raw for him to be able to write about them—at least not until they actually finished their Luthor investigation and he didn’t have to talk to Lois every single day. He grimaced. A break from Lois. Perry had been putting them on separate assignments with the exception of wrapping up Luthor’s crimes. He’d used that to go meet with sources when he couldn’t stand to be in the newsroom with her. He was thankful he had at least one out, even with Superman still MIA. Maybe after they finished the Luthor investigation, if he could figure out a way to do it secretly, he could do some writing ….

***

A week later, Clark bought a thick journal on his way home from work. He’d barely seen Lois this past week. Perry was assiduously keeping them on separate assignments—a fact that Clark was grateful for. He wondered if Lois had asked Perry for the time apart. Whatever Perry’s reasons were, Clark wasn’t going to complain. He hoped Perry would keep them on separate assignments for the foreseeable future, at least long enough for Clark to sort through some things.

He’d thought long and hard about his mother’s suggestion and had finally decided to write the events of the past couple of months under the guise of fiction. Superman could become the celebrity author persona of an ordinary reporter. Maybe it was a little close to home, but he had the feeling the closer the better in this instance. He needed some emotional distance to make sense, but not so much that it stopped being him, being them. The character of Luthor had given him pause. Clark felt he had to analyze things from his perspective and from Lois’s perspective. He supposed that meant he should at least outline some version where Luthor was who he’d said he was—a wealthy philanthropist businessman, a good guy.

Now home, he fingered the journal, flipping idly through the blank pages. Where to start? Should he start with how he saw things and how he felt? Or should he try to see things from Lois’s perspective first? He wasn’t sure he could do one without the other. Maybe he should start with his side and see where things went from there. He could at least bleed off some of the emotion, which might make it easier to sit in the same newsroom with Lois, hour after hour. His stomach growled. This whole being ordinary thing was brutal. He put the journal down and began fixing dinner, still trying to mentally outline his story—where it would start, where it would end, and how it would get from one place to another.

***

The next couple of weeks, things continued on in much the same vein. Occasionally Lois would invite Clark over for pizza and a movie, but Clark always told her that he had plans for the night. Things were so tentative between them that Lois didn’t even ask what his plans were anymore. The journal was progressing. He had to admit that once he’d gotten started, it was hard to put it down. Superman still hadn’t returned, although he could now write at super-speed which had helped the writing process along quite a bit.

Clark had gotten the characters introduced and their relationships well-established, and he was now on to the sticky period of Lex’s proposal and the destruction of the Planet. It was hard to write. He didn’t like to remember the jealousy that had eaten him alive, his jealousy of Superman and his jealousy of Luthor. He also didn’t like to see how passive he’d been in his friendship with Lois: sure, he’d worked hard to establish a friendship with her—which was something of a miracle in itself since Lois didn’t let anyone close enough to be a friend, let alone a best friend—but he hadn’t even introduced the subject of romance before his declaration in the park. No wonder she’d been blindsided. She’d told him not to fall for her within days of meeting him, and that had been the last they’d ever openly discussed the subject.

He still felt all the reasons for keeping his love for her hidden. He knew Lois, better than anyone, sometimes even better than she knew herself. She would never have kept him in her life if she’d felt at all threatened, and love threatened her.

He still didn’t understand why Luthor’s love hadn’t threatened her, but maybe it was because Luthor had come into her life as a potential suitor from the get-go—or at least from that first failed interview. She’d had time to adjust to Luthor’s attentions. Lois hated to be surprised in her personal life. He wondered what would have happened if he’d suggested moving their relationship beyond friendship before Luthor had proposed, although she believed herself in love with Superman, and Lois wasn’t a bigamist—she might have considered it a betrayal to fall in love with Clark. But then why wasn’t it a betrayal to fall for Luthor? Or had she not fallen for Luthor? Is that why his love hadn’t threatened her? Was it possible that Lois was more afraid of loving someone herself than she was of being loved? After all, loving someone made you vulnerable to them—having them love you didn’t make you vulnerable. Maybe she’d let herself love Superman because she’d created this fantasy where he would never hurt her, so it didn’t matter if she was vulnerable.

Did the fact that she had warned him off all those months ago mean that she had been attracted to him?

It was definitely an idea worth exploring, especially since they’d had the foundation of friendship coupled with, as the pheromone spray had proven, attraction. The elements of love had been present in their relationship ….

Clark was also realizing that Lois couldn’t allow herself to be wrong. Once she’d committed herself to a course of action, she rarely wavered and never apologized. Given what she’d told Clark about her father, he was fairly certain that was Sam’s influence. If she ever made a mistake, then all those years when Sam had been critiquing her, telling her what a failure she was, he’d been right. Lois couldn’t admit that she was wrong about Luthor without admitting that she’d made a mistake. That meant that she couldn’t allow herself see through Luthor’s façade once she’d told Clark that it didn’t exist.

***

Clark looked down at his notebook, reading over what he’d written. Today had been miserable. Lois had been on a rampage and even though they didn’t have stories together, he’d still ended up listening to her rant. He was fairly certain she was simply overwhelmed with all the things she’d missed seeing about Luthor, but that didn’t make him any less upset. He didn’t dare take out his feelings on her though—if nothing else, it’d just widen the chasm between them, which would be a bad thing if he ever decided to pursue her. He sighed. He’d taken out his frustration by writing up a quick version portraying Lois as a shallow groupie, so in love with Superman that she couldn’t see past his powers and enamored with Luthor’s money and power. But it hadn’t worked. If nothing else, writing it down had convinced him that Lois really did love him, for more than just his powers. Her statement that she would love him even if he were an ordinary man living an ordinary life echoed through his nightmares, feeding his pain and hatred, but she’d really meant it.

Sometimes it drove him nuts that she, who knew Superman and Clark Kent better than anyone else, couldn’t see their similarities. But then, he went out of his way to camouflage and minimize those similarities—was it really fair to blame her for not seeing what he tried so hard to keep her from seeing?

And there were the differences he cultivated and the differences he’d realized were simply the reality of having two separate identities—differences like the fact that Clark Kent often ran from trouble to “go call the police,” or whatever excuse he gave, and Superman ran to the rescue. He’d never thought about that from Lois’s perspective before. He hadn’t been able to work that element into his journal, but it was something that had hit him while he was outlining character biographies. He thought she knew Clark wasn’t a coward—after all, he was the one who had saved her from Mr. Makeup and had fought Trask in Smallville—but it was possible that Superman made her feel safer, simply because he saved her from trouble.

Regardless, he’d realized that, in a way, he’d made it impossible for Lois to love him because he’d never shown her the real him. The real him couldn’t always save the day, but Lois was convinced that Superman would, and the real him wasn’t always running away, but Lois thought that Clark did.

He’d always thought that he needed someone to fall for him as Clark before he would tell them about his Kryptonian heritage and all that went with it. He’d always thought that he would share that with only one woman—the woman he married. But maybe it wasn’t fair to wait for her to fall for one half of him—and if he was going to say that she only had to fall for half of him, well, Lois had fallen for Superman quite some time ago. And really, Lois was the only woman he’d ever fallen for, the only woman he’d ever wanted to marry, and she cared for both Clark and Superman. Maybe that was enough of a threshold. Maybe, if he wanted to move forward, he would have to show her his whole self—if he could ever actually decide whether he wanted to move forward or to get her out of his life permanently.

All at once it hit Clark that he was beginning to think of himself as one person. His mother had gotten onto him regularly for referring to himself in the third person, but he’d never realized the true depth of that separation. He’d split himself in two so carefully that somehow he’d lost touch with himself—the person who was both personas.

***

It had taken two months after the failed wedding for the renovated Planet to open. Today was the first day they’d be in the new offices, and Clark walked to work alone. He’d adjusted to working in the same room with Lois, to seeing her every day. Some days were better than others. The week he’d been writing up Luthor as a wealthy philanthropist, he’d gone out of his way to keep an eye on Lois—to do the little things he’d always done before to comfort her. He’d even unbent enough to ask her how she was doing, though not enough to actually talk to her about how he was doing or to spend time outside of work with her. He was sure that, given her understanding of Luthor’s character, she must have fallen for him and thus, still be grieving her lost lover. For the first time, he could almost understand why she’d agreed to marry Luthor. The week after, well, it had hit him that Lois might have really loved Luthor, and he’d almost hated her for being so blind to Luthor’s true nature. She had let Luthor destroy their lives—all because she’d refused to admit that Clark might be right about him. That week Clark had barely been able to string together two words past the anger choking him. God help him, he was still in love with her. If only he could excise that love and the hurt, then he could be indifferent, could move on. Unfortunately, he’d never been indifferent to Lois Lane.

He’d reached the Planet. Looking up at the globe, relief surged through him, followed by a bitter taste in his mouth. The Planet was officially back. Back because it had been destroyed. He could almost smell the smoke tinged with printer’s ink that had filled the area once the bomb had exploded. If only people and relationships could be as easily rebuilt as things. The Daily Planet was back, but the “hottest team in town” was still in ruins. He was still in ruins, and he was pretty sure that Lois was too. And he still didn’t have a clue how to begin that rebuilding process.

Clark had barely gotten his computer booted up when he heard Lois complaining about the new systems. Back in the old Planet building, it seemed natural to go help her, but somehow, the distance between their two desks seemed farther than it had ever been. Fortunately, Jimmy stepped in and began explaining how exactly she could retrieve her e-mail and faxes.

“Lane! Kent! In my office!” Perry bellowed from his office door.

Clark forced himself not to exchange a look with Lois. He had no clue what Perry wanted. At the door Clark gestured for Lois to go first and then followed her.

“Close the door and take a seat,” Perry said, sitting down behind his desk.

Lois sat down. Clark closed the door, then sat down in the other chair in front of Perry’s desk. Neither of them said anything.

“Now, I think I’ve given you both plenty of time to get over whatever it is that’s been goin’ on with the two of you. Personal problems have no place in the newsroom. I need my best team back.” Perry leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. “And if I can’t have my best team back, I’m gonna to have a hard time explainin’ to the suits upstairs why I’m keepin’ you both on. Capiche?”

“Yes, sir,” Clark said.

Lois just nodded.

“All right. Cops found Dr. Heller, a renowned plastic surgeon, dead in a dumpster on Fifth and Pine this mornin’.” He held out a piece of paper. “Here’s the info. I want you two to work on this together.”

Clark took the paper.

“Go get me that story!”

Slowly, they both walked back towards their desks.

“Do you mind if I check my voicemail before we go?” Clark asked politely.

“Uh, no. That’s fine,” Lois answered.

“All right,” Clark said and headed to his desk.

***

Lois sat back down at her desk, hoping it wouldn’t take Clark long to get his messages so that they could get the heck out of here. Being with Clark was awkward, but not as awkward as being here. New computer systems. New desk. She was just glad Perry hadn’t decided to rearrange everyone’s desks when they renovated. Jimmy had left his copy of the Metropolis Star on her desk. She glowered at the poll visible on the front page, and then pitched the paper in her trash can. Twenty percent of Metropolis was anti-Superman. Pah! She’d overheard a few people arguing about Lex and why Superman hadn’t saved him. Coming into the building this morning, she’d felt guilty and livid all over again. She (and Clark) had ferreted out a lot of Lex’s secrets, but somehow it hadn’t made her feel much better. Lex had been a monster, and she had missed it completely. And today, the first day the rebuilt Planet was open, she was sure Lex was on everyone’s mind.

No one at the Planet had made the mistake of telling her to her face that it was her fault that they’d been working in temporary offices, but she’d heard the speculation over the past few weeks. She’d been in a stall and heard a few women in the ladies’ room talking about whether Lex had bombed the Planet to get back at her for something, or because he hadn’t liked the schemes the Planet had disrupted over the years, or just because he didn’t want his wife working there. Many conversations died away when she walked in. Just this morning, Denise had called Lex a “lowlife, scum-sucking criminal” and wondered aloud how anybody could like him. She’d apologized as soon as she’d seen Lois, but it was yet another time Lois had had her face rubbed in the magnitude of her mess. Today of all days, the Planet was the last place she wanted to be. She glanced over at Clark. He appeared to be done with his phone, so she jabbed at her monitor’s off button, and grabbed her purse.

Just then Perry came out of his office. He stopped in between their desks with a frown.

“What are you two still doin’ here? I thought I sent you to go cover that murder,” he said pointedly.

Clark stood. “Sorry, Chief. I was just checking my voicemail in case there were any related messages from my sources. We’re headed out now.”

“Aw, as long as you’re here, might as well listen to this too,” Perry said, then turned to yell to the rest of the newsroom. “Okay, everybody, gather ‘round. I’ve got an announcement to make. As you all know, we’ve been through some pretty difficult times lately, and the new owner feels that some of you might be suffering from stress—y’know, anxiety, short fuses, etc.,”—he turned a beady eye on Lois and Clark, then continued—”so as of today, the Daily Planet now has its very own staff psychiatrist.”

“What? Perry, you can’t be serious!” Lois yelled. She didn’t care what Perry said. No one was going to make her sit on a couch and listen to psychobabble.

Perry gave her a hard look. “Serious as a heart attack. Now many of you might be familiar with this woman from her syndicated column that we’ve been runnin’, ‘Healing the,’ uh, ‘Inner Self on the Couch.’”

“They yanked the jumble puzzle for that. I was just getting good at it,” Jimmy remarked.

“Yeah, well, I was gettin’ pretty good at it myself,” Perry said. “I mean I’m not so hot on this touchy feely stuff so that’s why I never read the column. But it’s helpin’ to sell newspapers, and the good doctor’s convinced our publisher that, well, she can be of some help here.”

Lois scoffed. “How do we even know that she’s a real doctor? Half these media shrinks are frauds.”

An attractive redhead marched to the front of the crowd to stand by Perry. “Oh, I’m a real doctor, Ms. Lane,” she said in a sweet voice that had a slight edge to it.

Lois fought back a blush. “Of course, I was talking about the other half,” she said, pasting on a smile.

“Dr. Carlin, I was just explainin’ about you to the staff,” Perry said, turning towards the woman.

“I’m looking forward to meeting all of you over the next several days. Please feel free to stop by my office anytime,” Dr. Carlin said in rippling tones.

Perry clapped his hands together. “Okay, folks, let’s get to it. We’ve got some blank pages to fill in.” He turned to Dr. Carlin and gestured towards the newsroom. “They’re all yours.”

Dr. Carlin took a few steps closer to Lois, then said with a smile, “Ms. Lane, I’m especially looking forward to meeting with you.”

Lois kept the smile pasted on her face. She might have thought about therapy, but if she ever saw a shrink, she would see the woman Lucy recommended, not some sugary sweet woman her employer foisted on her, and there was no way she would ever admit to needing therapy. “Dr. Carlin, a lot of people have tried to get me on a couch, and after all this time, I don’t think I’m gonna start with a psychiatrist.”

Doctor Carlin gave a light laugh. “In my experience, it’s the people who say they’re fine that need help the most.”

Lois’s hands clenched into fists involuntarily. She widened her smile. “Uh-huh. Well, ‘scuse me. Have work to do,” she said, then headed towards the elevator, hoping that Clark would follow her and that Dr. Carlin wouldn’t.

***

Clark watched Lois’s encounter with Dr. Carlin. She was still too stubborn to admit how much the fiasco with Luthor had affected her. She could barely even admit that she’d been wrong about Luthor in the first place, Clark thought savagely, then reprimanded himself for the thought. He wasn’t being fair to her. Lois had apologized to him for not listening to him about Luthor, and Lois never apologized.

And, after all, Dr. Carlin was a doctor. They’d interviewed enough medical personnel for him to realize that all members of the medical profession suffered from guilt by association with her father. Maybe Perry would force Lois to talk to Dr. Carlin, just like he was forcing Lois and Clark to work together. Without even glancing back at him, Lois took off for the elevators. He grimaced, then grabbed his coat and followed her. The Daily Planet might be back to normal, but it was looking less and less likely that things would ever be back to normal between the two of them.

They walked in silence most of the way to the dumpster on Fifth and Pine. At first it had been simply uncomfortable, now it was rapidly becoming unbearable. Clark could hear Lois’s heart racing, but there didn’t seem to be any safe topics to talk about today.

Lois kept walking faster and faster, practically bulldozing people out of her way. Finally they turned onto a less crowded street. A can was on the street, and she kicked it viciously. Clark guessed she was taking out her frustration over Dr. Carlin’s remarks, or maybe the fact that she had to work with him again, or maybe simply the fact that it was sunny outside. With Lois, he never knew.

“Did the police say if Dr. Heller was murdered here or just dumped here?” he asked, trying to steer Lois’s thoughts onto work.

Lois rolled her eyes. “I have no idea. You took the paper.”

“Sorry, I forgot.” He pulled the folded paper out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Lois skimmed it. “It doesn’t say,” she said flatly.

“Okay.”

As they rounded the corner, graffitied on the wall were the words:

Superman

Tyranny

Over

People

Clark felt his gut clench. He’d written up an interview with Superman as one of the first articles published in the Planet’s temporary offices. Superman was currently away for an indefinite period of time. Crime rates had risen initially, but settled back down as the police department handled the increase. In a way Clark had been surprised because he’d primarily helped out with disasters—traffic accidents, fires, and the like—but then again, people slowed down for the cop with the radar gun. He guessed Superman’s presence had been just as much of a deterrent. But lately hostility towards Superman was growing. He hadn’t saved Luthor—which for some reason had people up in arms, despite Luthor’s criminality. And people didn’t like that he’d left the city “unprotected.” Not that he’d had a choice about any of that, thanks to Luthor, but no one knew that.

Meanwhile Lois gestured angrily at the graffiti. “Look at this! Who are these idiots?”

Clark took a deep breath, willing himself to sound unaffected. “Well, whoever they are, they were clever enough to create an acrostic,” he said evenly.

“A what?” Lois asked as they began walking again.

“An acrostic. It’s a word or a message subliminally hidden in a series of lines. In this case the first letter of each one of the words spells the word ‘stop.’”

“Oh. Well, they’re still idiots,” she said firmly.

At that moment they arrived at the dumpster in question. Lois walked around it, looking for anything that the police might have missed. She made a face. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? A doctor who makes people look beautiful ends up in a dumpster.”

As she rounded the far corner of the dumpster, a homeless man jumped out and took off running.

Clark slowly ran after him, yelling that they only wanted to talk to him. The homeless man showed no signs of slowing down, and Clark realized he wouldn’t be able to catch up without using super-speed. Fortunately, he’d regained most of his strength, so he grabbed a tire off the ground and threw it at the man. The tire landed dead center over him, and he fell to the ground. Clark jogged over and removed the tire, quick before Lois could see it.

“You okay?” Clark asked the man as he took the tire off.

“Mister, I don’t know nothin’!”

“About what? Relax, we just want to talk to you.”

The man’s eyes widened as Lois came striding up to them.

“How’d you catch him?” Lois asked.

“He got, uh, tired,” Clark replied. He kept his hands close to the homeless guy in case the guy had any more ideas about taking off. “Look, we’re reporters. We just want to know if you can tell us anything about the body that was found in that alley.”

The homeless man’s eyes skittered back and forth between the two of them. He flinched and his heart rate spiked as Lois took a step closer. “I don’t know nothin’,” he repeated.

“Lois, I think some money would be a really good idea about now.”

“Where’s your wallet?” she shot back.

Clark suppressed a sigh. Ever since Luthor, some days he couldn’t do anything right. “Coat pocket. Would you rather keep an eye on him while I dig it out?”

“No, it’s fine— if you pay me back half.”

“Of course.”

Lois dug through her wallet, pulled out two twenties, and held them just out of the homeless man’s reach. “All right, what’d you see?”

The homeless guy turned to Clark. “I saw two guys dumpin’ a body. I heard one of ‘em call the other one ‘Harry,’ ‘cept that when they left I saw it wasn’t guys, it was chicks.”

“Well, did you get a good look at either of them?” Clark asked.

“Yeah, one,” he said and grabbed the money out of Lois’s hand. He pointed to Lois. “It was her,” he said and took off running.

“Well, that was a waste of forty bucks,” Lois said disgustedly.

Clark wasn’t so sure, but there was no way he was going to actually tell Lois that. The man had been genuinely scared of Lois. Obviously, Lois might hate doctors, but there was no way that she’d murdered the plastic surgeon, which meant the guy must not have gotten a very good look. However, they had learned that two women had been involved, which was more than they’d known before. Silently, he pulled out a twenty and handed it to Lois. “What do you want to do now?” he asked her.

She looked at her watch. “I’d say the good doctor’s office might be our best bet. Think everyone will be out to lunch by now?”

“Do you know where the office is?”

“I think the address was on that paper.”

“Sounds good to me. Is it close enough to walk, or do you want to take a cab?”

Lois cast a sideways glance at him, mentally deciding whether she could put up with the silence for long enough to walk. “Let’s take a cab,” she said.

Without a word, Clark gestured for her to precede him back to the main road where they’d be likely to find a taxi.

***

“So how do you want to play this?” Clark asked Lois as they walked up the steps to Dr. Heller’s office.

Lois shrugged. “Depends on who’s in the office.”

Clark barely kept himself from rolling his eyes.

A young woman with short blond hair wearing jeans was sorting through files when they walked in the door. “Oh, I’m sorry. The office is closed,” she said.

Clark smiled at her. “That’s all right. We’re not here for an appointment.”

Lois stepped up to the counter. “We’re reporters for the Daily Planet, and we’re investigating Dr. Heller’s murder. Can you tell us anything about what he’d been working on lately?”

The woman smiled and directed her reply to Clark. “I’m sorry. I’m just a temp, so I don’t know anything about Dr. Heller.”

“Is there someone else we could talk to then?” he asked politely.

“Um, not really. I don’t know if anyone else will even be in today.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to find what we need if we just take a quick look through his files,” Lois said firmly.

The temp frowned uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you do that. HIPAA regulations and all.”

“Are you sure?” Lois asked, holding up a twenty.

“Yes, I am,” the woman replied coldly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Clark grabbed Lois’s arm. “Thanks for your time anyway,” he said to the temp, and then steered Lois firmly out the door.

“Clark! What do you think you’re doing? We could have talked her into it!” she hissed.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“You’re too cautious! I’m sure flipping through the files would have given us something! You’re always making things harder than they have to be!”

Clark bit back a retort. Using a sledgehammer when you just needed a little honey certainly hadn’t made things easy. The temp had been basically honest and trying to bribe her instead of reason with her had just made the situation impossible. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said evenly. “So what do you want to do now?”

Lois glared at him. “I want to look through Dr. Heller’s files!”

“Do you want to wait and see if the temp leaves? Or shall we go talk to our other sources and check back tomorrow?”

She stopped for a moment, considering, then sighed. “Let’s talk to our other sources and check back tomorrow. But if that doesn’t get us access to Dr. Heller’s files, then we come back tomorrow night,” she said severely.

“Okay.”

***

Lois stalked out to the curb and hailed a taxi. She surreptitiously rubbed her arm where Clark had touched her. He hadn’t touched her in months, and even though she’d been furious with him, it had felt warm and right. She swallowed hard, forcing the rising tears back down. Having Clark agree with her had been almost worse than his usual speech about how dangerous and illegal breaking and entering was. It only served to emphasize the distance between them. He hadn’t even fought with her when she’d yelled at him. She was used to him remaining mostly calm, even when they fought, but not this simple acquiescence …. It had been over two months since Clark had been her best friend and Superman had been a part of her life. Back when Lex’s power plant had driven Superman away and Clark had left, Lois remembered wondering which of them she’d miss more. Now she knew: Clark.

Oh, she still missed Superman—although in some ways she was glad she hadn’t seen him after how awful things had gone that night in her apartment—but normally she’d only seen Superman for short periods of time, only talked to him after he’d rescued her or when he was answering questions about some other rescue he’d just completed. Superman she could live without. Clark on the other hand …. Clark had somehow become essential to her well-being over the past year, and now they couldn’t even have a proper talk. Some days she wished he would just lose his temper and fight with her. At least then she’d be talking to the real him, rather than to this polite stranger that had taken his place.

***

By the end of the day, neither of them had much to show for their various phone calls. Clark had asked Jimmy to get him Dr. Heller’s financial records for the past six months, but Jimmy was backed up with other research requests. He’d promised to try to get the info to them by tomorrow evening at the latest.

“Lois, I think I’m going to head down to the police station, see if Henderson’s picked up that homeless guy we ran into earlier today. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, Clark. See you tomorrow,” she replied, noting that he hadn’t even asked if she wanted to come with him. She glared at his retreating back. Two could play that game. She shut down her computer and headed home. She and her black clothing had a date with Dr. Heller’s office tonight.