A Note From Lara: This chapter sucks. No denying it. I'm still trapped, inspiration-less. But even if it's not worth the non-ink it's written in, I will finish this. Oh, and just a quick explanation: this chapter begins about a month after the Luthor-Lang wedding. And a lot of changes have taken place...

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Lois bit her lip to hold back a scream. The knife blade jiggled against her throat, and she knew she only had one shot at this or she was dead. God Lane, couldn't have just sent off the top layer of this story to copy, could you? Just had to dig deeper, find that second- definitely more dangerous- angle and get yourself into trouble, didn't you?

It was supposed to have been a simple drug raid in Suicide Slums. That was the story she'd been assigned. But no, Ace Reporter Lois Lane just had to go and uncover the hornet's nest that was the Apex-funded drug ring... And now here she was in some smelly underground sewer, with a fully extended box cutter held against her throat.

"You want me to do it, boss?" came a cigarette-hoarsened voice from behind her.

The well-dressed Asian man shrugged. "I see no reason why not." Lois closed her eyes, giving the appearance of terror. Calming the beating of her heart as best she could, she tensed... and drove her heel backward into the thugs groin. He grunted in pain and dropped to the floor, the box cutter flying out of his hand.

"Sonofabitch!" the man groaned, clutching himself. "You'll pay for that!"

Lois ignored him, diving for the box cutter herself. "I kind of doubt that," she said. "Nobody messes with Lois Lane."

"I bet to differ," came the cultured voice of the "business" man behind her. She heard a click and felt something cold and metallic being pressed into the base of her skull.

Shit.

--

It had been three hours since Clark had seen Lois exit the newsroom. He had been concerned that there was trouble when she came up with one of her usual flimsy excuses for leaving. And when he meant flimsy, he meant flimsy. Going to get coffee for the severely overworked Jimmy? Not likely. It even made some of his quick-exit excuses sound waterproof.

He had been keeping track of her heartbeat with his superhearing, but aside from a few spikes which could have easily been caused by bad traffic, he hadn't picked up anything out of the ordinary. But now, as he tuned into what Lois was saying, he realized that all was not well. Not at all.

Oh god, she'd gotten herself in over her head again... He slipped off the horn-rimmed glasses that now adorned his face off and laid them carefully on his desk.

Within seconds, the newsroom was completely devoid of Kents.

--

Lois closed her eyes, waiting for the Bang! she probably wouldn't even live to hear. Got in too deep, Lane. Not gonna get out of this one, are you? Noooo, thought you were such a tough girl, thought you could handle the whole damn drug ring all on your own, never thought to call for backup...

A whoosh, and suddenly the gun pressed against her head was gone. Lois whirled in time to see the mobster hit the wall. Then her vision was blocked out by a now-familiar S-shaped crest. "Superman!" she gasped.

The alien savior of Metropolis smiled at her through the mask that covered the area around his eyes. "Yes, it's me," he said. "You certainly have a way of getting in trouble, Miss Lane. Are you alright?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. And how many times do I have to tell you, Kal-El? You can call me Lois."

He shrugged. "As many as it takes," he said, giving her that almost... flirtatious... look that Lois fancied he reserved only for her. Despite the fact that she had gotten to know the man rather better than most, she still retained some of the star-struck crush she had been under when she had first met the enigmatic hero. "Can I give you a lift back to the Planet?" he offered. It was Lois's turn to shrug, and in a moment, she found herself sitting at her desk at the Daily Planet bullpen.

Clark sauntered over to her. "What did you do this time?" he asked, fiddling with his glasses.

Lois cocked her head. "Nothing much. Just stumbled across a drug ring. Thank god Superman managed to save my camera, of I'd have no proof and then it would all be worthless..." She began to ramble on, digging through the piles of papers in order to find some of her earlier notes to update. "... and I was forced to take direct and rather impolite action against his nether regions."

Her bespectacled partner laughed incredulously. "You know, one of these days, Superman's not going to get there fast enough and then we'll see how well you can get out of these fixes all on your own."

She grinned cheekily at him. "Come on, Smallville. You know I'm perfectly able to take care of myself." Her face took on a vacant expression. "You know what I'd really like?" she asked after a moment. "I'd like to see Superman without the mask. He says he'll take it off eventually, once all the xenophobes quiet down, but how long will that be?"

Clark shrugged uncomfortably. The truth was, he wasn't worried about the rest of the world. It was she and she alone that he was concerned about. How would she react when she discovered that the hero she'd admired for nearly two months was just Clark "Smallville" Kent, the ordinary man she'd worked beside for nearly as long? He doubted she'd be as keen to be saved as she was before...

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Yes, I committed sacriledge. Superman + mask = no sense, but like I said, lack of inspiration and creativity on this one...