Chapter 2:Jilt

Clark, still in his Superman gear, stopped his flight to hover a few stories above South and Main. He frowned at his uncooperative cell phone worriedly. The signal was still strong; the call hadn't been disconnected. And he could have sworn he heard something in the background. So what had happened?

Tucking it tidily to clip on the inside of his belt once more, he took off toward Lexcorp at top speed. Chances of something happening there, with security so tight, were slim, but that didn't help the gut feeling screaming at him to find Lois, now.

It didn't help, either, when he caught the sound of police sirens, and a dispatch buzzing through all patrol cars.

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"You're a real moron."

Her captor growled, and gripped her arm more painfully. Glancing out the alley in which they were hidden with wild eyes, the incorrigible straw-haired felon was obviously getting irritated. Lois snorted, ignoring the pistol pressed against the side of her neck, and continued.

"You kidnap a high profile journalist right in front of a security camera, and when you miraculously manage to get away, instead of high tailing it out the city as fast as possible, you head downtown. Not to mention-"

He was staring at her with narrowed slits now.

"-You did this all on Superman's turf."

Which, she thought with a tinge of hope, meant this whole situation would be only temporary.

He pushed her forward, and much to her annoyance, she stumbled. The gun followed her closely; her short window of opportunity for escape had passed long before she regained her footing.

He rumbled distractedly, "Walk. And stop talking."

She turned and gave him defiant look, but moved forward. He fingered the hilt of a dagger, strapped to his leg lovingly, and she shook her head. The fellow was obviously deranged, and his current plan had confirmed her sneaking suspicion that he was more than a few cards short of a full deck.

They were directly across from the Daily freakin' Planet. It made no sense, but the guy seemed intent on going inside, for some twisted reason.

She couldn't fathom the idiocy; here he was, driving her closer and closer to what would probably be freedom. He couldn't have taken her any place better for a rescue if she had asked.

Well, at least, other than the police station, or wherever the heck Superman holed up when his feet got tired.

How many alarm bells would rings in her friends' heads, if she walked through the hall actually silent, and with some stranger too close for comfort? If there was any justice, any justice at all, they'd be numerous, loud and obnoxiously wailing, a symphony of suspicion that just might get her out of this bind.

And Clark- there was him, too. She had dropped her phone in surprise when she was grabbed, cutting off the conversation. That had to mean he knew something was up. Much as she liked to think otherwise, hers wasn't the only sense of suspicion that led them to their juiciest stories.

Yep, there was no way on Earth this guy wouldn't be caught. But she'd better start planning her own rescue, just in case.

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Touching down just outside the business building, Clark found a scene of milling confusion and fear. He glanced around, flowing with the current. He picked up Lois' name among the mutterings, and roughly grabbed the nearest guard.

His voice cracked worriedly, "What's going on?"

The boy in blue- the human one- struggled to shrug off the grip on his shoulder, fear and contempt apparent in his countenance.

Lex undoubtedly made it an unwritten rule for his employees to never- ever- help Superman. His contempt ran deep enough for it. Of course, the law was almost never obeyed in the lower levels of the corporate workforce, but Clark's current target didn't seem to know that.

He softened his expression, and let his anxiety show through. Hopefully the fellow had some compassion.

"Please, can't you just tell me what happened? It's important."

The watchman relented his frantic struggle, shoulders sagging. Clark's grip went slack, and he looked to the guard expectantly. A dirty looked crossed the smaller man's face, but he spoke.

"Some felon from Arkham was being transported through the city. S'possedly, the breaks went out in the truck, and it crashed. The guy escaped after killing the poor chumps driving. 'Bout, oh, ten minutes, fifteen- not quite sure, exactly- the camera picked him up outside. The guy on duty didn't think it was nothing until the guy grabbed this lady leaving, and bolted."

He trailed off, gulping at Clark's enraged expression, thinking it was directed at him.

He stammered, "S'all I know, I swear!" His voice trembled and he turned to leave, but Clark spun him back around.

"Where did he go? Did he hurt her?" He hadn't realized he was shaking the terrified man until he heard a yell from one of the guard's buddies. His prisoner jittered terribly as he stopped, but gestured towards a general direction. Clark was gone before he could blink.

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Lois's mind was at NASCAR speed, racing wildly to try and determine exactly what her seemingly hapless captor was trying to accomplish. It seemed like her best bet; if she wanted to stop him, she had to figure out what the heck he was trying to do.

They had passed Jimmy on the tenth floor. The man behind her had insisted on trekking up the stairs, and the photographer had been running down excitedly with something in his hand. He stopped mid-step, and beamed at her.

"Oh! Hey, Miss Lane! Where's Clark? Perry's been looking for you two."

Keeping with captor's command, she stayed silent, but made sure to establish eye contact, and make exaggerated eye rolls towards straw hair, along with a tiny head nod. The redhead stared, confused for a moment, forehead knitting in concern as he determined something was wrong.

Jimmy chuckled nervously, and turned to head back the way he came.

"I'll, um, just tell him you're here."

His quick footfalls faded as the creak and click of a door signified his departure from the stairwell.

She hissed in shock, pain, and more than a little bit of irritation, as the source of her current problem slapped her hard across the face.

"What was that! You're gonna make them suspicious. You'll ruin it!"

"That's the idea." Lois, rebellious to core, muttered, violently pushing his hand off her shoulder, and then attempted to disarm him with a quick strike to the wrist. He, obviously not really experienced in hand to hand combatant, still managed to leap back out of her range. His hand gripped the dagger's shaft with white knuckles, and his breathing was ragged and angry.

"Damn..." she sighed in disappointment, and began to trudge on according to the pistol's command.

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The wind on the roof did murder on her hair, although she was a little more concerned on whether or not the convict was inclined to do the same to the rest of her. The dull whine of sirens in the distance signaled help- help that would probably arrive to do much good for Lois.

Staring at her distorted reflection in the golden orb resting on the roof, it was becoming quickly apparent that she was going to have to get out of this particular mess, herself. The cool metal barrel quivering feverishly on and off her neck pointed towards her abductor's growing nervousness.

He began mumbling incessantly, something about the time. "Almost time," she thought she heard.

Well, THAT didn't bode well.

She glanced around the rooftop, searching for some weapon or advantage she could grab. Her aquiline eyesight picked up a piece of hope- a metal shard just near the corner of the Daily Planet globe's base, debris from the structure's last beating, when Superman battled some villain high above the city. The concrete corner would be the perfect place as well. Glimmers of a plan formed in her mind. If she could just get him closer to the shard...

The stink of lightly toasted flesh filled her nostril, as a pair of red beams seared the fair haired man's hand, the gun skittering across the roof as he yelped.

Lois took the chance, and kicked him hard in the chest, sending him flying back and cracking his head on the support for the paper's enlarged emblem.

She turned, a floppy girlish grin on her face.

"You really like to make an entrance, don't you?"

Superman hovered there, a mixed expression of bemusement tingeing his smile. His arms uncrossed, and the alien hero touched down softly.

"You'd be something of an expert on that now, wouldn't you, Miss Lane?

She scrunched up her nose.

"Yeah, got my own personal white kn-"

She was cut off as a hand grabbed her collar roughly from behind. A news helicopter buzzed over head, and a crowd of spectators and reporters buzzed below as she was once again taken captive.

With every breath she cursed her stupidity. Big Blue had tensed, glaring daggers at her captor. The situation had once again become dangerous. Lois opened her mouth, fully intending to clamp her jaws on the arm wrapped around her neck, but stopped mid-clamp, as Superman's cheeks puffed, and he let out a mighty blow.

The concentrated blast of icy air hit him on the forehead, his sandy locks twirling in the alien-induced wind. As the criminal was thrown backwards, his hold on Lois broke in the shock of the cold.

The chopper came in for a tight shot of the warrior clad in tights, who moved quickly to grab the villain as he tumbled over the side. His gentleness was noticeably lacking, snaring the man's one arm, and stopping his fall abruptly.

That should have been end of story, no problem- but Lois could only watch in horror as the maniac drew the knife he had been fingering from it's lead-lined sheath, and stabbed it's Kryptonite blade into Superman's arm.

His grip was destroyed; he let go for the pain, and the suicidal victory of the abductor blonde shown in his eyes, who smirked as he fell into the crowd below, to his death.