A/N: This story is finished. Theoretically, I'll be posting two chapters/week—most likely one on Saturday nights and one on Wednesday nights. It's cross-posted from lcficmbs. Obviously, I don't own any of the Lois & Clark characters, etc., etc.
Ambivalence
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 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. 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 he couldn't do that to Perry and Jimmy and Jack. 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.
*****A*****
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 a 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."
*****A*****
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 seriously.
"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."
"Thank you, Inspector. I'll let Clark know that you may be contacting him. I appreciate your help and secrecy in this matter."
*****A*****
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 somehow pull diverse facts and create a whole.
He flipped the light back on, grabbed the ubiquitous hotel notepad and began writing. 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 and 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 Lois. 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.
*****A*****
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 bunking with him the past couple of weeks, and there are probably reporters crawling 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.
*****A*****
As they walked in the door to Clark's, the emptiness hit her. He wasn't here.
"Do you, uh, want to change into something 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, 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, are you okay?" Perry asked. "I thought you were going 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 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, 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 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 for the bombin' of the Daily Planet." He took a deep breath. "Luthor was the one behind the bombin'."
"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?"
"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?"
"Um, no."
"Oh, well, maybe my mother has them."
*****A*****
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 either; 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?
The reality was that 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. She would figure out what Lex had been hiding, and she would do it on her own.
*****A*****
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.
*****A*****
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 keep telling her no. 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.
*****A*****
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 even 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 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.