Name
.
.
.
"Can I take a shower?"
"Can you… er… what?"
Clark looked up from the scattering of Perry's notes. He was trying to make sense of the rambling doodles in the margins, and wasn't having much luck.
Lois held up her small suitcase.
"A shower," she said, "I drove all the way down here, and then we were crawling around a cave and I feel kinda gross, so…"
"Oh, yeah… sure," said Clark, "It's up the stairs, first door on your right."
"Thanks."
Lois turned around and hustled up the stairs.
"There should be clean towels in the closet next to it!" Clark called after her.
"Got it!"
Clark heard her close the door. A few seconds later, he heard the shower start up. It took absolutely everything he had not to switch on his x-ray vision and sneak a peek.
But he had more important things to do.
In a sudden gust of wind, Clark disappeared from the kitchen.
He still wasn't used to the eerie sensation of using his super-speed, despite the fact that he'd able to do it for years. Everything warped, so that the world formed a giant tunnel, where the walls shifted and blurred like a kaleidoscope. Sound actually seemed to be muted, except for the incessant rushing of the wind.
Clark figured he had about twenty minutes.
If the Lois from this world was anything like the other Lois, then she was fond of marathon showers.
He started his search at the caves. Once again using his x-ray vision, Clark explored every inch of the place. Once again, he was met with nothing but miles of rock and earth.
Then he switched outside, moving in ever increasing circles, starting from the entrance to the caves.
It was mostly flatland out here, and a few farms – but other than a the herds and families settling in for the night, he could see no sign of Perry.
Clark wished he had the ability to fly – it would have been really handy. A bird's eye view could have expanded the scope of the search.
With about three minutes left, Clark stopped. He was near the county border, in a copse of trees beside a brook.
Nothing.
Fighting down his frustration, Clark zipped back to the farm. But he didn't go inside. Instead, he detoured to the storm cellar. Lifting the heavy steel-reinforced doors, he climbed down the steps.
It was still stocked with the emergency supplies his dad had bought. Candles, preserved food, bottled water… but Clark couldn't help but dwell on what was missing.
This was where his father had stashed his ship. The vessel that had brought him across the stars.
Clark could still see the deep groove in the earth from where the heavy vessel had rested.
Nine months ago, Clark had been woken up in the middle of the night. There was a sharp, insistent ringing in his ears, like a painful, high-pitched whistling. Clark cried out, and covered his ears but it did no good.
Stumbling outside, he tried to follow the noise.
It led him out onto the field that housed the storm cellar. Clark knew that it must be the ship that was making that noise – but he never got a chance to find out why.
Before he reached the entrance, he was thrown back when the doors to the cellar exploded outwards. A jet of harsh, white-hot light shot out, piercing the sky. The intensity of the light increased, and Clark felt the little hairs on the back of his arms start to singe.
He screamed.
And then it was gone – winked out. And the silence rolled in like a cloud.
Staggering to his feet, Clark managed to make his way down the stairs. At the base he stopped, blinking rapidly, unable to believe his eyes.
The ship was gone.
And now Perry White had disappeared too. Clark didn't know how, or why, but he was certain that the two were connected somehow.
He just didn't have a clue how to proceed.
Being Sheriff of Smallville didn't actually call for much in the way of investigative skills. The most baffling case he'd ever been involved in was when a car-theft ring had tried to infiltrate the county. Clark had busted the whole gang by the end of the day.
This was different.
This required skills he didn't know he had. That meant one thing… Lois.
Lois!
Cursing himself for a fool, Clark shot back out of the storm cellar. He made a quick trip to the barn to stash the box with the suit, then went back inside. Lois was just coming down the stairs when he came through the door.
"Hey," she said, "Where have you been?"
Clark didn't answer.
He couldn't.
She was wearing a pair of sleeping shorts and a t-shirt. She was rubbing at her still-wet hair with a towel.
Little beads of water ran down the curve of her neck, seeping into the cloth of her shirt.
"Breathe, Clark, breathe…" he told himself. It didn't help.
"Where have you been?" she asked again.
"Uh… I was just… checking in on the radio," said Clark, "No sign yet."
Lois sighed. She padded barefoot to the kitchen table, and Clark found himself staring at her shapely legs. She was tall, but there was still something delicate about her. She also walked with a kind of grace that made his head go all fuzzy.
"Maybe there's something in his notes," said Lois, "We should go over it all again. See if we missed anything."
"Good idea," said Clark.
They divided up the various folders and notepads. Grabbing her stack, Lois retired to the couch.
"Coffee?" offered Clark.
"Thanks," said Lois, "You're a lifesaver, Smallville…"
Clark went very still. He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, the coffee pot clutched in his hand. He turned slowly, and looked at her. She was sitting on the couch, with her legs tucked in underneath her, spreading out the files.
"What did you call me?" he asked.
"Don't tell me you're offended by that too," said Lois, "I figured it's better than Sheriff."
"No…" Clark choked, "It's… fine. I mean, I… I like it."
"You do?" she grinned, "Okay… Smallville it is."
.
.
.
'WH 13, Bird.
3 Rot. Of 4/per…
Lead, steel, wire. 4 ship.
Monday.'
Clark rubbed at his tired eyes and stared at the section, almost willing it to make sense.
It didn't.
It was the last entry in what looked to be Perry's journal.
Clark didn't know what it meant.
What was WH 13? What Bird? 4/per what….?
"Lois, I can't make any sense of this…" he muttered.
He was at the kitchen table. He needed the space for the files. He swung round on his stool to face Lois, who was still on the couch.
He chuckled.
She was still in the same pose – legs crossed, her hands in her lap… but she was fast asleep. Now that he was paying attention, he heard her snore softly.
Trying to be as quiet as possible, Clark slid off the stool and made his way into the living room. He stood over her for a moment, just watching her sleep. She gave a little snort, and he had to suppress a laugh.
Bending down, Clark snuck his one hand in underneath her legs, the other winding behind her back. When he was sure he had a good grip, he straightened up, lifting her effortlessly up off the couch.
Lois' head lolled to the side and came to rest over his heart. Keeping his steps slow and measured, Clark climbed the stairs. He took her into his old bedroom. It still smelled like the aftershave he was so fond of in high school, but it was scrupulously clean.
Setting her gently down on the bed, Clark straightened her legs, then pulled down the sheets and covered her. He made sure her head was safely on the pillow.
The drapes were open, and soft starlight drifted through, illuminating her face.
She was so… peaceful when she slept. Her expression calm, and serene.
She was beyond beautiful, and Clark felt an ache forming in his chest.
This was the woman he'd forgotten to hope for.
When she was awake, she was all fire and bravado, and asleep… an angel at rest.
Clark squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will away the maelstrom inside. They had an important job to do. They had to find Perry, and figure out what Lex Luthor was up to.
This was absolutely no time to fall in love.
And, knowing that, Clark felt his heart break just a little.
Weakness took him, and he bent over at the waist. It seemed to take hours just to cross that final few inches, until his lips met the cool surface of her cheek. Sparks danced their way all over his body at the touch. Lois made a little noise in her sleep… like a purring in the back of her throat.
Clark stood, and allowed himself one last, lingering look.
"Goodnight, Lois…" he whispered.
Then he left her to her dreams… whatever they may be.
.
.
.