1Notes: Ummm...not much to say about this chapter. Kinda short. There are only two more after this (thank god).

Part 6: Nihilist

Tempus Fugit (Time flies.)

A tinny buzz signaled the end of the dry cycle, snapping Lois out of her daze.

She combed her hands through her wet hair, sweeping her bangs up and away from her face, and hopped off the washing machine. The Kent's bathroom was warm with a mix of residual shower steam and hot air that escaped through the drier vents. With the loud rumbled of tumbling clothes finally over, she could hear the rain still drumming the glass panes. As Lois moved to pull the blinds, a gust of icy wind slipped through the cracked window and sideswiped her. She shivered and pulled Clark's large, ill-fitting bathrobe tighter.

It seemed like she had just put her rain-soaked clothes into the machine. The job had gone quickly. Or maybe she had been lost in thought longer than she remembered. Time, along with just about everything important in the world, had a way of getting away from a person. If she had learned anything from her trip back, it was that.

Time and good judgement.

Lois rubbed her temples as her mind drifted back to her last encounter with Clark.

Over the years she had gotten herself into a number of sticky situations. She'd been kidnaped. Trapped in meat lockers, safes, trunks, and just about anything else with a latch and limited supply of oxygen. She'd been bound and gagged. Held at gunpoint enough times to warrant an honorary membership in the NRA. Lois knew from screwed. But with one small kiss she had hit the mother-load.

Lois had maneuvered herself out of Clark's embrace with clumsy sweep of the arm and rushed excuse. She was relieved when he let her go with little protest, suggesting instead that he try to get his parents out of town and away from Trask.

She'd rushed into the house, and up to the bathroom, dropping to her knees at the toilet just in time, the vomit making a wet slap as it hit porcelain. She wanted to blame the nausea on aftershocks from the portal, but she knew guilt had played a large part.

But a hot shower had given her a fresh perspective. Wallowing was for the weak. In the face of apparent hopelessness Lois Lane was going to do what she did best. She would clench her jaw, set her shoulders and use the hot rush of adrenaline that fear provided her to her advantage.

And nothing was more frightening than the prospect of never getting home.

She popped open the drier door and grabbed her blazer, making sure to avoid the brass pocket zippers, which would be a degree above scorching. She slung it over the towel rack to cool, and turned her attention to her skirt. Two trips through the washing machine had failed to remove the crimson flecks of blood, but managed to pull the thigh-high rip just a little longer.

Lois sighed, moving towards the linen closet. She grabbed Martha's sewing kit and ran a quick set of stitches through the tear. Not the best patch job, but it would have to do.

A soft knock on the doorframe and Clark was suddenly beside her. He had changed into some dry clothes, but his hair was still slick with rain. He gave her a quick once over, his eyes lingering a second too long on the deep scooping neckline of her robe.

She shot him a nervous smile and instinctively pulled the terrycloth closer.

"Hey," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. "Um. My parents just left."

"How did you manage that?"

"I lied. I told them my aunt had called," he said, taking his cell phone out of his pocket. "I just have to call my aunt and think up a convincing reason for her to keep them there."

Lois nodded. "Not that I'm advocating dishonesty, but it's better that they're not mixed up in this."

"Yeah," Clark agreed, setting his phone down on the sink. He reached out and took her hand, running his thumb along her palm. "We can handle this. Together."

Lois slowly took her hand back. "We need to talk about what happened outside..."

A smile tugged at the corners of Clark's lips at the mention of the kiss.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly, bracing herself. "It was a mistake."

Clark blinked in surprise, clearly not prepared for that. "What?"

"I wasn't thinking strait. Trask had stolen the scroll, I was convinced I would never get back to my husband –"

"I am your husband," Clark cut in.

"No. You're not," Lois corrected. "Clark, I care about you. I do. But I came back here to make sure that he wasn't taken away from me - that I wouldn't lose him." Her eyes narrowed as a steely resolution pulled her muscles tense. "In a moment of weakness I lost sight of that. Trust me when I say it will never happen again."

They stood in silence as the words sunk in. Finally Clark nodded sadly.

Lois felt the sharp pang of guilt. She thought for a moment and then asked, "When you kissed me, did you feel something?"

"Of course I did," he countered, defensively.

"No. I mean, did you feel like it was off? Like it was good, but lacking...?"

When he didn't answer, she took it as a yes.

"I'm not her, Clark. I'm not the one you're supposed to be with."

"But I want you to be..." Clark's voice cracked.

Lois knew that what he really loved was the idea of her. She knew she was the easy choice - the sure bet. She was someone who understood who he was and accepted him fully. Because of that she was the one thing he always wanted.

But she wasn't his.

"Clark I -" Lois stopped short when he saw his attention pulled sharply to the window. "What?"

"It's Lana," Clark explained. Lois wondered if that update was courtesy of his super-hearing or x-ray vision. She figured it was probably a little bit fo both. He shook his head. "I still don't understand why you wanted me to call her."

"We need her help." When Clark shot her a look of unmasked skepticism, she patted his arm and assured him, "It'll all fall into place."

He began to leave, throwing a look over his shoulder when he realized she wasn't following.

Lois pulled on her robe. "I'm just going to get dressed and I'll meet you two in a minute."

He nodded and she watched him go, hoping that their conversation had been enough. Somehow, though, she doubted the subject was closed.

Suddenly, Lois heard the buzz of Clark's phone as it vibrated on the sink. By the third ring she had finally scooped it up and flipped it open to the ID screen.

Incoming call. Lois.

She bit her lip and made sure she was alone before thumbing the end button, cutting the call mid-ring.

She slipped out of the robe and into her newly dried clothes. She looked out the window to find that the rain had stopped.

The storm had passed.

The one outside at least.


When Lois got to the driveway, she was immediately met with the sympathy-laden eyes of Lana Lang.

"Oh god, Lois. Are you okay?"

Lois waved off her concern. "Yeah. Great. Flesh wounds really bring out my eyes," she deadpanned.

Lana laughed nervously. She jerked a thumb in Clark's direction. "He brought me up to speed. I want you to know I'll do whatever I can to help. Just tell me the plan."

Lois finished securing the last button on her jacket. "Well, we would if we had one of those." Off Lana's look, she just shrugged.

"He's got my car, couldn't we have the police run the plates?" Clark asked.

It was a plan. It just wasn't a very good one.

Lois shook her head. "Cops ask too many questions."

"But they have the resources," Clark argued.

"Yeah, the resources to scan my driver's license with the print date of 2008."

"We could call Lex," Lana suggested. She looked down at her watch. "He should be home."

Lois stiffened. "Clark, you told me he was out of the country on business."

Clark shrugged. "I thought he was."

"He flew back tonight," Lana explained. "He left me a voicemail."

"Oh god..." Lois pinched the bridge of her nose. Just when she thought things couldn't possibly get any worse...

With her track record, she really should have known better.

Lana looked immediately remorseful, not fully understanding what she had done wrong, but sorry none the less. "Did I say something?"

Lois ignored her, launching into full pace mode. "Okay, we need to go. We need to go now!"

"Lois?" Clark glanced at Lana, who mouthed 'I have no idea.;' He stepped forward, catching Lois by the arm. "Lois..."

But Lois kept going. "We could take Lana's car–" She stopped short. "Damnit! He's probably there..."

Clark's patience was waning. "Who's where?" He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Lois! What's going on?"

Lois looked up, acknowledging him, finally. She frowned. Always the barer of bad news.

"It was Lex. Lex sent Trask back."

Next part: Slipshod