I was leafing through another wedding magazine that was subtly left on my desk. I am pretty sure this one came from Martha because it wasn't previously earmarked with "front page" worthy ideas. Martha and I were finally able to convince the Chief of allowing us to go ahead with the "Headlines" them especially when he saw how classy the color scheme could be. We settled on colors quickly after that, and from then on Martha pretty much consults with Mr. White before coming to me about an idea.

When I was little, I never even thought to imagine my wedding day and when I did it was always right after I busted open some big story or was using the wedding as a trap for a story. So, the idea of planning a wedding I never thought I'd have proved to be a bit daunting. I was happy to hand over the minor decisions to someone else so I could focus on the next big story. Which didn't take long to turn up.

The Underworld crimes lords would simply call him Mr. X. We had no leads, no eyewitnesses, and every trail Clark and I sniffed out hastily went cold. We were starting to lose faith because even Superman couldn't get a straight answer from these crooks. As I sat there mindlessly searching the frills for inspiration, I tried imagining what I would do if I were Mr. X. The man had to be hiding in plain sight but there was no evidence that he was in any legitimate position of power, so a government official seemed unlikely. He had to be in some sort of trade, other than the black market, how else is he able to hire so many willing patsies?

A quick knock on my door startled me out of my inquiries. Clark let himself in and he looked exhausted and angry. He whispered to himself as he took a seat on the couch.

"Did you find anything," I questioned just before joining him.

"No. Every lead I had vanished because every stooge he uses is expendable. It is so frustrating," Clark growled.

"What about you do you have anything?" He laid his head back and closed his eyes waiting for my answer.

"No, it feels like if anyone gets a whiff of the fact that I am a reporter they seal their lips or flat out lie to me," I shrugged. "I even went in disguise to a source that was just supposed to be connected to one of the Fall guys and she lied to my face."

"There has got to be a better way," Clark muttered.

"If you think of one, I am game for anything," I sighed.

"What were you looking at when I came in," He changed topics.

"Oh, just another wedding magazine that your mother left for me," I shrugged. "I feel bad that I am not more interested in planning our wedding."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because this is every girl's big day! But I didn't really think that it would ever happen for me, so I've never really been interested in planning for one."

"What about your dream wedding with Superman about a year ago?"

"Oh goodness, leave it to you to bring that up," I growled.

"Hey it was your dream," he defended himself.

"Yes, but even than the wedding was simple. I was wearing a dress from home, and the only thing special I did was my hair. Someone provided a cake and you told the preacher to meet us at the Daily Planet building. We were engaged and married within a day and there was no pomp and circumstance. I wish our wedding could be that simple." I explained.

His finger drew circles on my arm, "Well it is a good thing that my mother and Perry are up for the challenge, now isn't it?" We both laughed when the phone interrupted us.

"Lois Lane speaking," I announced. "Clark, it's for you, it is Inspector Henderson."

Clark quickly picked up the phone and answered with a series of "Ah Hmm's" and end with, "Sure thing, Bill. I will do my best to find him but I am telling you, Superman is already on the case."

He hung up with a chuckle, "With how often I am the only person that can contact Superman would think that more people would have figured it out by now. At least Batman has a signal that anyone could turn on." He thought for a minute, "Should I get a signal?"

I laughed out loud, "Oh goodness, I don't think so, I know people that would be turning it on just so that they could get an autograph."

"No one does that for Batman," he countered.

"That is because Batman is terrifying. Superman is a super man, and too nice." I poked his steel chest. "You better not keep the inspector waiting."