The White Orchid Ball was finally over, and Luthor had decided that Clark's services were no longer needed for the night.
Clark gladly retreated to his small room, which happened to be placed right next to Luthor's luxurious bedroom.
He didn't mind the small size of his room, however. It was well suited for his few needs, and it provided him some slight comfort to have a place to "come home" to.
Clark took a very quick shower, changed at ultra speed, brushed his teeth out of a habit that he somehow still had from long ago (despite his not having to worry about cavities), and collapsed onto his bed, exhausted—an occurrence that didn't happen often.
He turned out his overhead light and tried to fall asleep. But, despite his fatigue, he found himself wide awake. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to clear his mind, but he soon found his thoughts drifting back to the woman he had seen dancing with Luthor.
Clark was so wrapped up in his inner musings that he accidentally picked up what his master was telling Nigel in the room next to him.
"Ms. Lane has been persistently pestering me for an extensive interview." A sigh. "She doesn't quite understand that my interest in her is not purely professional. During the past few months, I have spent more time with her than any other woman, though because of my busy schedule, that isn't saying quite that much. And yet, even in that small amount of time, she has unknowingly stolen my heart." He paused. "Yes, Nigel. It's true. I have fallen completely and utterly in love with her. But she simply refuses to be won." Lex Luthor sighed again. He normally wasn't one who sighed often, but the situation was making him flustered—or, at least, as flustered as Lex Luthor got. "I might actually have to resort to desperate measures. And you know Nigel, I don't like to bait the mouse with expensive and finely grated Swiss Cheese when regular Cheddar should do just fine."
"Certainly not, sir. I do not think that she was merely pretending to be enraptured with you when you danced with her," Nigel argued. "And very elegantly so, I might add."
Clark sat up abruptly, a realization kicking in. He didn't know how he knew, but his gut instinct told him that they were talking about her!
And Lex Luthor would do anything to get what he wanted.
She could get hurt...
He calmed down enough to listen to Luthor's reply.
"You don't know her like I do, Nigel. She's a wonderful woman, but I'm afraid she's rather stubborn."
"What are you proposing, sir?"
"You of all people should know that I have other methods of persuasion..." Luthor laughed.
"Indeed, sir."
Clark bit his lip, unsure of what he should do. If he tried to prevent his master from getting his way, then he would probably get hurt. But if Clark didn't do anything, then she would get hurt or coerced into doing something against her will.
He clenched his fists in helplessness, careful not to crush his sheets into a fine powder. He couldn't just sit there and do nothing. He had simply watched Luthor manipulate people far too often. It was time for Clark to do something. He didn't know why, but he felt some sort of emotional pull from the woman that he had seen dancing with his master.
But how could he help her when he didn't even know anything substantial about her?
Maybe it was time to put together everything that he knew.
Her surname was Lane, she was obsessed with her work, and her work probably had something to do with investigating or snooping since she had been going through Luthor's office. She had to be a prominent citizen for Lex Luthor to take any permanent interest in her.
Well, Luthor's eye wouldn't be easily caught by a detective...
She probably wasn't a criminal either, because Lex would know about that, and more than likely he would only go after her on pretense...as he had with many other women, Clark thought sourly.
Maybe she worked for a paper?
Clark didn't read papers often, but he sifted through his brain to see if her name sounded familiar.
Lane...
Could it be Lois Lane, the star investigative reporter of this century?
Yes, that was probably her.
Everything fit into place.
She was an investigative journalist, highly respected, and her persistence after stories fit the "stubbornness" category.
Okay, so...what now? Did he just fly over to the newspaper and hope she was there, regardless of the fact that it was past working hours?
Clark sighed. This was too complicated for an amnesiac bodyguard to try to take care of.
But nevertheless, he was going to try.
Fine. First things first. He needed to go to a phonebook and find her address.
That should be simple enough. How many Lois Lanes could there be in Metropolis?