A:N: Hey, everyone... I'm so sorry about this. While uploading the latest chapter, something went bizarrely wrong with the site. it refused to recognise that the last 3 chapters even existed!
I don't know how, or why, but I had to reload the story from the beginning.
For convenience sake, I've posted the first four chapters as one document. So, for those who've read up to the part where SPOLIERS - 3 people are sitting in the kitchen making plans - END SPOILERS - you can just skip to the next chapter. That's the new one.
If you haven't, you can start from here.
Again, sorry for the inconvenience... I hope you guys will carry on this journey with me.
Thanks!
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…Somebody Else's Story…
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Prologue - Goodbye
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"Are you sure this is going to work?"
"Doctor Swann promised it would."
Lois turned away from him. In the dim recesses of the bunker, behind sheet-glass so thick it could withstand a bomb blast, a technician hit a switch.
Lois cringed.
The machine in front of her looked like it was lifted straight out of a movie she'd seen a long time ago – Stargate. It was circular, made of a metal that shimmered in the dim light and covered in strange glyphs.
The empty space inside the circle glimmered for a moment, then pulsed, and then flared into startling light like the inside of the sun.
Lois shrank back, throwing her arm up to shield her eyes. The machine seemed to give off a force, like a powerful magnet trying to suck her in, and her hair whipped around her as though she were standing in the middle of a storm.
Suddenly frightened, she turned back to him.
"I'm scared," she said.
For some strange reason, he laughed.
It was Clark's laugh – full, deep and filled with ironic delight. It rankled her and she frowned.
"What?" she demanded, "What are you laughing at?"
"I know I've only known you a few days…" he said, "But… I never thought I'd hear Lois Lane admit that she was afraid."
"Moment of weakness caused by the huge, unstable portal to another world!" she spat.
"That explains it," said Clark, "Can you do this?"
"I can," she nodded, "Clark… my Clark… He's waiting for me."
"Of course he is. He's probably going crazy. I know I would."
"Thank you," said Lois, "For everything. For believing me… For helping me…"
"Don't mention it," he said, "You should go."
Squaring her shoulders, and still covering her eyes, Lois turned back to the machine. It pulled at her, but every step towards it seemed to take an enormous effort. Up close, she expected the vortex to give off heat and yet, it radiated an icy cold that chilled her bones. Just before she could touch the rip in the air, she turned again…
"Clark!" she called, "I just want you know… I believe in you! Everything I told you… About… about the things he did – who he is – it's all inside you! You just… You just have to find that strength inside yourself!"
"I'll try!" he called back.
He thought she would leave then, turn around step through the portal.
But she didn't.
Instead, she rushed forward and threw herself into his arms.
The moment when her lips touched his, heaven was born inside him.
Electric, painful, and far too fleeting…
She broke away, and cocked a crooked little smile.
"See you around… Smallville…"
Then she was gone. Three quick steps and the rip in the fabric of space whipped her away in a blaze of glorious colour. It flared once, brighter than ever, and then winked out… like a forgotten memory.
The emptiness surrounded him, and filled him.
He hung his head.
"Goodbye, Lois…"
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Shield
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The house felt empty.
To Clark, that was the most painful thing of all.
He just couldn't understand it. Lois had been around for only a few days, and yet… without her, his home felt empty.
As he moved robotically through the darkened kitchen, not bothering to switch on the light, he wondered why that was.
Had he really been that lonely before she showed up?
Or… was there just something about Lois?
The woman was like a firecracker that, once lit, refused to go out and filled the world with dancing light.
She was loud, she was brash, she was in your face, she was…
She was everything he never knew he wanted.
Annoyed by his own sombre mood, Clark gave up on the coffee. He gave up on the house entirely when he spotted the copy of the Daily Planet on the table in the living room.
It reminded him of her.
She worked at the Daily Planet in her world, and she insisted on doing the crossword in pen. She got about 60% of it right, but that didn't seem to stop her.
Clark barged out the front door and headed for the barn. If ever he needed the solitude of his loft, it was now. He hit the lights as he came through the door and clomped up the stairs.
Then he stopped.
There was something on the couch.
A box. It was black, with a dark blue ribbon. There was a card, in a green envelope, tucked into the ribbon.
On the card, written in a quick, practiced scrawl was his name: Clark.
Frowning, he pulled out the card and opened it. Inside, was a simple message:
'In case you choose to try… Love Lois…'
Trembling, Clark lifted the lid of the box.
He gasped.
Ten seconds passed and he still couldn't find breath.
The colour was striking. The blue of the sky in the brightest dawn.
The shield, he'd only seen once before. The day he'd placed the key in the slot in the cave wall, before driving his fist straight through the wall itself. It was the day his dad died, and the last thing he'd wanted was a reminder of his alien heritage – which he still saw as the reason for his father's heart attack. The stress of lying to the world, of raising a son with freakish abilities – all had took their toll on Jonathan Kent.
After the funeral, Clark plucked up the courage to do what he'd been putting off for months. He slotted the key in place, and then destroyed it.
There was a flash of light, and he blacked out for long minutes.
But in that instant before unconsciousness, he'd seen… something. A vision.
A man, tall with grey hair. He was dressed in a white robe, over a black cat suit. On the torso of the suit, was that same shield. The raised 'S' symbol that now – through Lois – he knew to be the family crest of the House of El.
Still shaking, Clark ran his fingers over the raised edge of the shield. Tiny little sparks of electricity seemed to jump to his fingers at the point of touch.
Taking a deep breath, he lifted it out. The cape unfurled behind it, soft, a deep red like the centre of a ruby.
This was it. The suit. Hissuit.
'No!' thought Clark, shaking his head, 'My suit. She's given it to me!'
There was the crackle of static, and then: "442 on Broad, all units respond! 442 on Broad! Over!"
Clark almost choked with surprise.
He'd been so caught up, he'd forgotten the radio handset still clipped to his belt. He hurriedly stuffed the suit back into the box, and unhooked the set. Pressing it to his mouth, he said:
"Dispatch, this is Kent. Status?"
"Paramedics and the Fire Marshal already on the scene," came the voice at the other end, "But you should probably get over there, Sheriff."
"Roger! On my way!" said Clark, before clicking off.
Not for the first time, Clark put thoughts of his future and his frightening destiny out of his mind. He had a job to do.
He zipped downstairs at super-speed and got into his car. Flicking on his lights, and his siren, he took off, heading for the centre of Smallville.
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It was chaos on the scene.
A car – a cheap Ford hatchback, had wrapped itself around a lamppost. But that wasn't the chaos.
A crowd had gathered.
Like every other small town anywhere, the residents of Smallville were almost grateful for any break to the monotony, and had gathered for some good, old-fashioned street theatre.
A group of Clark's officers as well as two paramedics were grouped around a gurney, atop which sat a man. His hair was once blonde, and now thinning. He was sort of chubby. He was gesticulating wildly as Clark got out of his squad car.
He had no need to flash his badge. Everyone knew the town Sheriff and made way for him.
Clark also had no need for his super-hearing to pick up on the accident victim's rant.
The man was shouting so loud, people a block over could hear him.
"So, I turn the corner, and some lame-ass, corn-fed, wannabe hick in his cliché' of a pickup truck cuts right in front of me!" the guy yelled, "I had to swerve, and that's when I jumped up onto the curb and hit the post!"
"Sir, have you been drinking?" asked Nathan, one of Clark's deputies.
"The hell kinda question is that?" demanded the man, "You should be out there looking for the maniac in the truck, instead of asking me stupid questions, young man!"
Clark could see Nathan visibly tense at the man's words. Coming up behind him, Clark laid a reassuring hand on Nathan's shoulder.
"It's okay, Nate," said Clark, "I've got it from here."
"Yes, sir, Sheriff," said Nathan, backing away.
"So, you're the Sheriff of Loserville, are ya?" asked the man.
Clark ignored him, and turned to the paramedics.
"Any injuries?" he asked.
"Just a bump on the head. He was wearing his seatbelt."
"Hey!" the man clicked his fingers in Clark's face, "I'm talkin' to you!"
"Yes, sir," Clark plastered on the fakest of smiles, "I'm sorry about that. I'm Clark Kent."
Clark held out his hand. It was an old tactic. Being polite was more efficient at getting an agitated person to lower his guard and calm down.
It worked.
"Finally," said the man, shaking Clark's hand, "Someone in this town with some manners."
"Your name, sir?"
"You don't recognise me?" the man smirked.
"I'm afraid not," Clark admitted.
"Well, I'm not surprised," he said, "You've probably only been out the county a couple times in your life, haven't you?"
"Your name, sir," Clark persisted.
"The name's White, kid," he said, "Perry White."
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Evidence
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At least the house wasn't empty this time.
There was a tufty little black cat, sitting quite regally on the couch when Clark came through the door. A simple barn cat that Clark had adopted about a year ago. Although that was a very loose term for their arrangement. The cat just kept showing up and Clark fed it.
He'd named it Slugger, for no apparent reason.
The first time Lois had seen it, she'd taken in it's sleek black fur, and promptly named it Snowball.
"Hey Snowball," said Clark, scratching it gently behind the ears.
The cat purred. Clark set out a dish of cat food and a saucer of milk, then tried to decide what to eat.
Clark was, in fact, a wonderful cook – thanks to the tutelage of Martha Kent. But he didn't feel like slaving over a hot stove. He settled for a microwaved lasagne instead, and then flopped down onto the couch. He was tired. He'd spent the rest of the afternoon filling out reports and basically maintaining the status quo down at the station.
He flicked through the TV channels, trying to settle on something to watch, but his mind kept drifting.
The presence of Perry White in Smallville was disturbing. The fact that he was investigating the caves even more so.
A quick Lexus-Nexus search had told Clark all he needed to know about the erstwhile reporter. He was a troublemaker, that was for sure. Unafraid to target the rich and powerful with his poisoned quill.
He'd been shortlisted for a Pulitzer three times, winning once.
That he was on the side of the good guys was not in question. The problem with Perry White was that he was like a dog with a bone. If he suspected that there was anything more to the caves than simple Native American paintings, he would dig, and search, and ferret away until he uncovered the truth.
Clark couldn't have that.
Not after what happened with his ship.
The truth about his origins was too exposed already.
Clark eventually settled on a show on a third-rate network. It was about two brothers riding across the country in a muscle car, fighting monsters. To his surprise, Clark found that he was enjoying it.
So, he was annoyed when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Depositing his empty plate in the kitchen sink, he opened the door.
And immediately sighed.
"Hey, kid!" Perry White grinned at him.
"Mr White, what are you doing here?"
"Can I come in?"
Clark stood firm, blocking the doorway. Perry's grin never wavered.
"Where's that small town hospitality I keep hearing about?"
"I think you used it up when you called us Loserville," said Clark.
"Sorry about that," said Perry, "To be fair, I was just in an accident. I wasn't thinking straight."
Clark shook his head, and stepped aside. Perry crossed the threshold, carrying his suitcase and a battered leather briefcase. Clark frowned, and peered out into the yard. There was no one there.
"Did you walk?" he asked.
"No," said Perry, dumping his cases by the couch, "I got a lift with Mr Singer."
"Why?"
"I need to talk to you."
"We have nothing to talk about, Mr White," said Clark, "If you need me to take you to a motel…"
"Kid, please…" said Perry, "I'm not asking for much of your time. I'm thinking maybe you can help me out."
"With what?"
"My story."
Clark was about to protest, but Perry held up his hand, and charged on:
"You know this town. You know the caves. Believe me, this story is in Smallville's best interests."
"How?"
"Well, let's sit down and talk about that."
"And you say I'm stubborn," said Clark.
Perry grinned again.
Clark led him into the kitchen.
"Coffee?"
"I'd love some."
Clark set about making the coffee, as Perry unpacked his suitcase. It contained several files and binders, with clippings from newspapers, printouts, hand-written notes, the works…
"This is everything I've gathered on the story so far," said Perry, gratefully accepting the mug Clark offered him.
"What exactly is this story?" asked Clark.
"First, let me ask you a question," said Perry, "Do you believe in aliens?"
Clark almost choked on a mouthful of hot java. He did his best to disguise it by pretending to laugh.
"Aliens? Mr White, you've gotta be kidding."
"I'm not," said Perry, "Now, I'm not saying they exist. But a very dangerous person certainly thinks they do."
"Who?"
"Lex Luthor."
For the second time in a minute, Clark almost choked.
He'd known Lex Luthor for a very brief time. Lex had lived in Smallville for about a year at the turn of the century. He'd owned the Talon, and asked Martha Kent to manage it. Clark had made some extra money after school working there, with his then-girlfriend Lana Lang.
But that wasn't the reason Clark was suddenly fearful now.
The Lex Luthor that Lois had spoken about was different from the one he knew. That Lex had been best friends with his world's Clark Kent. And they had grown into deadly enemies.
As far as Clark knew, this Lex wasn't the megalomaniac that Lois had painted, but he couldn't be sure.
"Why would Lex Luthor believe in aliens?" asked Clark.
"He claims that the meteor shower that hit Smallville back in '89 was a sign of an alien invasion," said Perry, "He's been researching the town for years. He even moved here for a while."
"I know. I met him," said Clark.
"Well, Lex's interest was sufficient that he spent an average of four million dollars a year for five years doing various research projects in Smallville."
"How do you know all this?" asked Clark.
"I have my methods," Perry waved off the question, "But that's not the part that's got me worried."
"What is?"
"A couple of years ago, something happened here that caused Lex to step up his research. Funding increased from four million a year, to fifteen million."
Clark tried to keep a blank expression on his face. He was very aware of Perry White watching him for any reaction.
He knew exactly what had happened two years ago. It was the day of the cave-in, the day he'd destroyed the key.
The resulting blast had made the news.
"The reason I'm here now," Perry went on, "Is because I'm playing catch-up to Lex Luthor. I need to find out what happened here."
"Why?"
"Because nine months ago his funding stopped."
Clark blinked, "What?"
"He's cut off all the projects, which means…" said Perry, "That either he's given up – and believe me, kid, Lex Luthor ain't the type to give up – or…"
"He found what he was looking for..." Clark finished.
"Exactly."
Perry shut the notebook, a look of triumph on his face. Clark took a breath, trying to run this over in his head.
The timeline certainly fit.
Damn!
"You know something, don't you?" said Perry, eyeing Clark in the same way an eagle would eye a mouse, "I could tell when you just let me go without charges. You don't want me hanging around, because you know what I'm looking for."
"Mr White, I think you should drop this," said Clark, "For your own protection."
"I don't need you to look after me, kid."
"I think you do. You have to trust me. No good can come of this."
"I'm sorry, kid, but I can't do that."
Clark gritted his teeth, "Then what do you want from me?"
"I want you to get me into the caves."
"No. It's a protected area. That would be breaking the law."
"Fine," said Perry, throwing up his hands, "I figured you'd say that. Then there's one other thing you can do for me – since it's mostly your fault…"
"What?"
"I need you to run someone out of town."
"Excuse me?"
"You guys called my office and let them know about my little… accident," said Perry.
"We were hoping they could send someone to pick you up," said Clark.
"Oh, they're sending someone, alright," said Perry, "Only not to pick me up, but to keep an eye on me while I finish my investigation."
"And you want me to run this person out of town?"
"Yeah," said Perry, "You see it in movies all the time. It's most of what a Sheriff does."
"I can't–"
"Kid, the quicker I finish up here, the quicker I'm out of your hair," Perry explained, "Now this… woman they're sending… she's just gonna get in my way. That'll cause delays, which will cause aggravation for you, and all the while… Lex Luthor's going ahead with whatever the hell he's planning."
Clark just shook his head. He refilled his coffee mug, and stared at the man, hoping to convey by his mere expression just how stupid he thought this request was.
"It should be easy," said Perry, "She's just a woman."
"What's her name?" asked Clark.
"Catherine Grant," said Perry, "Everyone calls her Cat. Don't know why they're sending her, she's not even in my department. She works for Lifestyle."
Perry said the word like it left a dirty taste.
"I haven't even met the broad," he went on, "But I guarantee she'll be a bigger nightmare than me."
"Well, then I suggest you work something out with her," said Clark, "I'm not getting involved."
"Too late," said Perry.
"What?"
That's when Clark heard the sound of a car pulling up outside.
"You told them you were here?"
"I checked in with the office when I left the salvage yard."
Perry scooted off his chair and headed for the front door. Clark followed, fighting the urge to scream,
Perry opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. A black Jeep Wrangler had just parked in the driveway. A woman lifted herself out of the front seat, and rounded the hood.
"She looks different from her photo," said Perry.
He turned to look at Clark. He did a double-take.
Clark looked like he wasn't breathing. Because, point of fact, he wasn't.
All colour had drained from his face, and he was trembling. His eyes were fixed on the woman as she made her way across the yard.
"Kid?" said Perry, "Are you okay?"
"That's… er…" Clark tried to find his voice, a feat that was proving difficult, "That's not Cat Grant, Mr White."
"It's not?"
Clark shook his head.
"No. That's Lois Lane…"
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Plans
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Perry was confused.
"You know her?" he asked.
"No."
"Then how–?"
"Shh…"
Clark nudged Perry in the back, causing him to stumble a couple of steps, right into the porch rail. He recovered in time to extend a hand to the striking dark-haired woman climbing the steps.
"Mr White?" she said, "I'm Lois Lane. Mr McElroy sent me."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lane."
"Such an honour to meet you," Lois gushed, "Really, you have no idea. I've read everything you've ever written. The Times, The Globe, even your stuff from The Inquisitor."
"Well, nice to meet a fan," said Perry, chuckling.
Lois broke the handshake, and the beaming smile she'd been wearing faltered as she glanced over Perry's shoulder.
Clark was just staring at her.
He was sure he looked like a brain-dead idiot, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
He'd been sure he'd seen the last of Lois when she stepped through the portal, but now…
Of course, it had occurred to him that Lois might have a double on this world, but he had no intention of seeking her out.
He could just picture that conversation.
Hi, do you know we're soulmates on another plane of existence?
But… here she was.
The same composed poise, and grace. The flowing dark hair. Her skin, like polished ivory. Her eyes, dark, but flecked with gold like glitter dust. Those legs… that body!
Clark blinked rapidly when he felt the burn rising behind his eyes that signalled the onset of his heat-vision.
"You must be Mr Kent," said Lois, a little uncertain – obviously put off by the intensity of his gaze.
"Uh, yeah… yes!" he said, "That's what they… who… they call me."
Lois nodded, and the edge of her lips flicked up in a wry smile: "Right…"
She layered so much sarcasm into that one syllable that Clark actually winced.
She was Lois, alright.
When the other Lois had come looking for him, she'd been caught in a rainstorm. She was soaking wet and terrified. And yet, within two minutes of meeting him, she'd said: "Thank you! I would love some coffee! I'm so glad you offered!"
From that moment on, Clark had to fight every minute just to stay on even keel around her. He liked to think he'd gotten it right, somewhat, by the time she left.
Yet, faced with her doppelganger, he was back to the bumbling buffoon again.
He was determined to put it right, and introduce himself as Sheriff Kent, but Lois had already tuned him out and was talking to Perry.
"Mr McElroy told me to come out here and keep an eye on you," Lois was saying, "He said you're wilful with company expenses. You're chasing dangerous leads, and you're no nearer a story than you were when you started."
As she spoke, Clark could see the back of Perry's neck start to burn. He imagined the man's face must look like a thundercloud.
"So, I told him I'd babysit you," said Lois, airily.
Clark could almost see the steam coming out Perry's ears, like something out of a comic book. Lois was smiling again, that same cocky smile, and Clark was tempted to step in front of her as a shield.
"That's the only way he would have sent me out here," said Lois.
"What?" said Perry.
"He wanted to send that bubble-head Cat Grant," Lois snorted, "So I told him what he wanted to hear. Anything to get a chance to work with you, sir."
"What?" said Perry, again, a little derailed.
"Anything you need," said Lois, "Scud work, research, even if you just need me to drive you around, I don't care. I just started at the Daily Planet a year ago - I'm still stuck in the basement - and if I end up half the reporter you are, then... well... let's just say, I want to learn everything you have to teach me."
Perry puffed like a peacock at that, and Clark had to fight the urge to laugh.
"I think I'm going to like you, Miss Lane," said Perry, "Would you like to come inside?"
Lois nodded, and Perry led the way.
"Uh… it's my house," Clark pointed out, but neither of them seemed to hear him.
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"Those caves are the key," Lois was saying, some time later.
They were gathered around the kitchen table, perched on tall stools, with Perry's notes scattered across every surface that didn't hold a coffee mug.
"That seems likely," said Perry.
"Lex started the foundation that got them protected, granting him full access. We have to see what he was doing down there."
Clark was content to just sit back and watch. He'd recovered from his initial shock, and now he was just enjoying watching the two of them work. They looked like old friends already, firing questions and random ideas at each other. It was fascinating.
"So, we go take a look," said Perry.
"And how do you propose to do that?" Clark cut in, for the first time in a while.
"They don't have guards, do they?" asked Lois.
"No, but it's a restricted area."
"So?"
"So, if you break in, I'll arrest you."
"You'll arrest me?"
"I'm sorry, did I stutter?"
"Haven't you been paying attention?"
"Apply for a permit," said Clark.
"From Lex Luthor?" Lois shot back.
Okay, Clark had to admit that that was probably a stupid idea.
"I can't just let you walk in there," he said.
"Then come up with another idea," said Lois.
"I'll go with you," said Clark.
"Now suddenly you're on board?" said Perry, "When I asked you–"
"You'll both just charge in there whether I say yes or not," said Clark, "And it's dangerous. The cave-in destabilised the whole place. It could all come down."
"And what are you going to do if that happens?" Lois demanded, obviously rankled by Clark suddenly taking charge, "Catch the roof?"
Clark rolled his eyes, and turned to Perry, blocking Lois out.
"With me there, at least you have a leg to stand on if anyone from LexCorp is on site," he said.
"Great," said Perry, "Let's go now."
"It's dark out."
"You don't have flashlights in this town?"
"Mr White…" Lois began.
"Please, Lois, enough. Call me Perry."
"I don't think bringing the Sheriff of Nottingham over here is a good idea," she said.
"The Sheriff of Nottingham?" Clark mumbled.
"He is the authority in this town, Lois."
"The guy from Robin Hood?"
"Still, he has no experience with this kind of thing," she persisted.
"So, I'm the bad guy now?"
"It's the only way we get to survey the site," said Perry.
"Fine…" Lois muttered, "But if you get in our way."
"Just stay out of my way," said Clark, "And try not to get yourself killed."
The look Lois shot him would have felled a redwood. And the hill it was standing on.
Clark answered with a broad smile that only ticked her off more.
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