In the background the television in feeding information about Superman's latest battle with Lex Luthor, accompanied by the noise of vegetables being cut and plates moved in the kitchen. Lois wishes fervently that Lex will not accomplish his goal of destroying Superman because she wants the satisfaction of killing Clark herself.
Lois feels out of place in Clark and Lana's spotless living room where everything has its own place and no papers or half finished reports are left to every surface possible. Lana is in the kitchen preparing a delicious meal, Clark is off saving the world and Lois is seething on their sofa. Her gaze locks into the wedding picture, taken seven years earlier of very young Clark and Lana, and suddenly the enormity and ugliness of what she has done overwhelms her.
She doesn't want to face it yet, so she escapes to the kitchen. She sits down on a bar stool and watches Lana humming cheerfully to herself, her happiness only distressing Lois more. Lana has never been very good friend of hers, but she does not deserve, nobody deserves, what is to come. And Lois realizes that this is her last chance ever getting any information out of Lana, and her reporter instincts kick in automatically. She is a horrible person, she concludes, without any tact, but she must know.
"Why don't you have any children Lana?" She has asked this same question from Clark several times before, albeit more veiled. According to him Kryptonian males and human females are not compatible, but in the light of new developments, as she personally can vouch, this is not true. She does not know, however, why they have not adopted. Children, or more precisely the lack of them, is something Clark refuses to speak with her.
Lana is startled, and Lois detects a brief flicker of anger and hurt on her face. Nonetheless, she responses quite cordially, "we are physically incompatible. We tried for awhile and then Clark asked about it from his father who told him we could never have children." The sorrow in her voice is unmistakable, and Lois feels nauseated. "We thought about adopting, but there is always the problem with Clark heritage... Maybe we will. Clark has always wanted children."
"I'm sorry," she says, but sorry cannot quite cover her feelings of remorse. She fingers the the hem of the tabletop absentmindedly, lost in thought. It's now or never she decides, and if Clark feels saving the world is more important than breaking the news to his wife, well, it's his problem.
"I'm pregnant," she tells Lana, matter-of-factly. "About five weeks, so anything can happen." Her voice must be devoid of the usual euphoria connected to similar news because Lana looks at her sharply.
"Is everything alright?" she asks, concerned, and Lois is sadly convinced that Lana is a better person than her. She knows Clark wanted to be present when the news are told, actually wanted to tell them himself, but she feels this is the right time and place for this piece of information. With the three of them, there would be two versus one, while now the numbers are even.
"No," Lois gives in. "Could you sit down for awhile?" It's better that Lana is not standing near the stove, nor any sharp tools when Lois delivers the final, vital blow. Lois stands up and motions to the chairs of the dining table, Lana glances to her cooking, but concedes finally by turning the stove off and following her.
"What is it?" Lana breaks the silence, a hint of impatience in her voice. Clark will be home soon, and in need of a big meal. But Lois is unable to say what she know must be said. She raises her chin, squares her shoulders and meets her doom with her head raised high as her father had instructed.
"It—it's Clark's," she stammers, and she can see from Lana's face that she has not made the connection.
"What are you talk— oh my god!" Lana exclaims horror edged in her every word. For a moment she simply stares at Lois, flabbergasted. Then she, refusing to believe the implications, asks, "The—there is some kind of alien explanation to all this, isn't there? You and Clark, too much Kryptonite exposure—?"
"No!" Lois says urgently. "No, we—we had sex." And because she feels that Lana, if anybody, deserves the whole truth, as painful as it is, she adds, "I've been sleeping with Kal."
Tears are already falling from Lana's eyes, and Lois can feel them swelling in hers too. Her comment nonetheless appears to startle once again Lana. "Kal?" she asks confused, "but you said... Kal? As in Clark in red kryptonite?"
Lois can only nod, because she has to bite her lips to keep her composure. She hates making mistakes and she hates even more admitting them, and this is the top of all the worst mistakes she has ever committed. She knew it was a bad idea then, and she knows that it is as bad an idea today. Because Lana might pretend that Clark was not himself when he committed adultery, but Lois knows better: Clark hasn't been himself for a long time, in any form or another. And however much she wishes to lessen Lana's pain and her own guilt, it's not the right way, for any of them.
So she stands up from the chair and says gently, but as firmly as she can, "He knew what he was doing and so did I. I'm sorry, what we did was inexcusable." She hopes her words sound as sincere as she means them.
It's not surprising when Lana stands up as well, and demands furiously, her face red with rage, "Get out!" Lois complies without another word because there is nothing else to be said. She hopes that Lana will someday heal and understand that at least she has the consolation of not carrying the guilt and consequences of her actions for the rest of her life.
