Lois clutched furious hands around her now-ruined suede Marni coat as the water ran over her toes in her matching pink mules. She shivered as the wind buffeted her wet body with chilling intensity. She tried to move under the shelter of the decorative moulding, but the drops feel fatter and wetter on her head there so she moved back onto the chewing gum strewn pavement, braving the weather till Jimmy decided to come home. He wasn't exactly answering his handheld after her fifth frantic call, so all she could do was wait and stew in her rage.

Her mind still struggled to grasp the perfidy of Lex. After dropping her like last year's bag, he had not only stopped all her cards, but her apartment apparently belonged to him, through some twisted process of percentage of down payment represented—she still didn't know the exact procedure, but she now found herself homeless. Her face still burnt at her embarrassment at the Mall; her card had been on the hot card list of every boutique, and all of them seemed to have changed their policy regarding credit. Even Pucci—the label she had made her own, and that was the cruelest cut of all.

Lois hoped fervently that Perry's inherent dislike of Lex would mean that she kept her job, though at this late hour, hungry and tired, she was feeling less and less certain of Perry's power to resist Lex.

At last, an old Ford Steetka parked itself on the opposite side of the road and Jimmy came strolling over.

'You look like a wet cat.' He said. They were the sweetest words she had ever heard.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

'Ah! Lana. You do seem to have developed a habit of coming here unannounced. Not that it's not a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?' Lionel's manner was aggressively urbane, as he greeted her in his office.

Lana sat down opposite him, looking down at the scrubbed clean city lit by a bright sun after the previous night's thunderstorm.

'It's Clark. I can't find him. He's not here, hasn't been at work, is not in Smallville. He always comes when I call. I think he's sick.'

Lionel merely raised his eyebrows.

'Are you saying my trust in you was misplaced? Reporting that Clark is not to be found is not your job. Finding him is.'

Lionel could never be taken for granted, so Lana formulated her next words carefully. 'I know. I'm not making excuses. But you have the resources to trace him. He was sick. I saw it – at the Gala. They took him away; he had a stomach bug or something.'

'Who took him away?'

'Waiters... But I called the caterers and they knew nothing of this. I tried to trace him at the hospitals. She shook her head in exasperation. His boss filed a MPR yesterday.'

'Is there a point to this rambling?'

'I think he was kidnapped. He could have been taken while he was weak...'

'Ah! I see. And who do you think perpetrated this outrage.'

'Who else? Lex.'

'I see. Lana you grow more valuable with every passing day. I will initiate enquiries. But I hope you realize that wild allegations against my son can be termed dangerous libel.'

Lana met his gaze steadily 'If you mean did I tell Chloe of my suspicions, the answer is no.' Lionel seemed satisfied with the answer, though she worried if she had appeared too clever.

' It seems we understand each other reasonably well. I will see you later tonight.'

Lana walked out of the meeting with her next step clearly outlined in her mind.