Lois sat at her desk perusing through her notes. A gas leak had caused an explosion in a 120-unit apartment building and, although no one was seriously injured, all of its residents were displaced. The fire department was investigating the cause, but her source indicated a disgruntled government employee might have tampered with the gas line.
She pulled off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to will away a looming headache. Concentrating this morning was a difficult task, and she'd been staring for the last half hour at a blank computer screen. She closed her eyes and focused on taking deep breaths. Was it just her imagination, or were all her co-workers extra noisy today? A photocopier hummed as it shuffled and collated stacks of paper, fingertips tapped away at keyboards, the coffee machine tap-tapped as it dribbled slowly into a glass pitcher. On the other side of the newsroom, a woman was talking on the phone, and for a moment, she thought she could hear the man on the other end of the line, until suddenly the voice was replaced by words she needn't strain to hear.
"Lois Lane! In my office, now!" It was Perry, and from the way he carefully pronounced each syllable in her name she knew something was amiss. She pushed herself up out of her chair and headed towards his office while some of her co-workers looked onward. Were they whispering? Laughing? She was too tired to inquire, but gave them a cold hard stare all the same.
"You wanted to see me, Chief?" Where so many others would cower under the cold eyes and pissed off words of Perry White, she reveled in it. For the root of his anger towards her was often because she had pushed the envelope too far, thereby getting a story no one else could, in which case his reaction was one to relish. But she could think of no recent cause that fit that scenario, and so his summons left her uneasy.
He slammed the door behind her and walked methodically back to his desk, which was a mess of articles and newspapers piled five or six issues deep. Atop that pile sat a lone, half-eaten chocolate-glazed doughnut on a white napkin. He pulled the top paper off the stack and tossed it in front of her. "What the hell is this?"
She looked at it closely and answered calmly, "Today's edition of the Metropolis Star." But that was clearly not what he wanted to hear, so she read further, this time unable to mask her surprise. "An article about Superman saving victims of the earthquake." It was, in fact, upon closer viewing an article containing details about a cover up that he'd conspicuously left out of her conversation with him. Now the Star had published it first and rendered her morning submission on the same subject soft and gritless.
"And what does it say beneath the headline?" He turned his back to her and stared out the window. A scaffold holding two window cleaners was positioned at the floor above them, and she could clearly hear their brushes sweeping hard against the glass. The only visible evidence of them, however, was two thick black cables that dangled from the platform.
She began reading the article, but Perry stopped her. "Before the article begins."
Inwardly groaning, she appeased his request. "An exclusive interview with Superman, by Veronica Messner."
Perry turned around, folding his arms in front of him. "That's right! An exclusive interview! A four-page, in depth interview with Superman!" He moved in so close to her that Lois swore she could see the bloody veins pulsing in his eyes. "Now what's wrong with this picture?"
Her head was welling up, her concentration faltering. This was not an issue she wanted to deal with today. "I…"
"We are, in this town, the paper synonymous with Superman. If somebody wants to read an exclusive about him, they buy the Daily Planet. Not the Post, the Ledger, and most certainly not the Metropolis Star!"
She laughed nervously, "You sound as if we own him! He's free to speak to whomever he wishes. Besides, he's given exclusives to plenty of other reporters."
"Like this?"
She had to admit, the level of detail within the article meant that it was no short interview. Despite the gravity of the subject matter there was a certain element of giddiness in the reporter's words, like she had interviewed her idol and transferred her wonderment onto the paper. Lois recoiled and offered her best defense, knowing how lame it sounded even to her own ears. "Contrary to popular belief I am not his press agent!"
"Oh yeah? Since when! Tell me why, after all these years, does he suddenly give exclusive interviews to our archrival?"
Lois was speechless. Blood rushed to her head and she swayed slightly on her feet, while Perry's gaze fell in the direction of Clark Kent, who was talking nervously to an over-animated Jimmy. The Chief stood which an uncharacteristic confusion in his eyes, trying to coalesce what happened this morning and what he heard the other night, and not making sense of either.
Lois grabbed onto the edges of the desk to steady herself. She was beginning to realize what "breaking up" with Superman really meant. For whatever reason, she hadn't foreseen this change in their working relationship, however much it made sense. Perry may have been feeling betrayed, but her feeling was much more attuned to ire. Superman had duped her out of a big story. And nobody scooped Lois Lane.
She fought the urge to look over at Clark and wondered if he was listening in on their conversation. While he made a sincere effort to respect her privacy, she knew how much of her life he was privy to, and how difficult it was to not be aware of her every moment. It was second nature to him, much like scanning her with his x-ray vision every time she coughed or sneezed. She caught him continuously fighting with himself over respecting her privacy and wanting to know she was safe.
The reality was that she didn't need Superman to make her a great reporter. Sure, her Pulitzer was for an article she wrote about him, and her name was tied to his the way no one else could claim. But people respected her work whether or not it was about the man of steel, and maybe loosening that bond was a good thing and a necessary step in her career. But she didn't think Perry would approve of her assessment of the situation.
Perry continued ranting, and as his words began melting together last night's dinner was quickly making its way up through her throat. She pressed her palm to her mouth and bent over, knowing there was no chance she'd make it to the bathroom. Suddenly pushing the desk chair away toward the window, she crouched onto the floor and grabbed the garbage can out from under the desk, her head just properly positioned over it as she vomited.
Perry stopped his tirade long enough to stare aghast at the sight of Lois conspicuously slumped underneath his desk. "Lois, are you all right?"
She grabbed her hair back away from her face. "Yes, I'm fine!" Her words sounded tinny as they echoed inside the garbage can. Outside the office multiple pairs of eyes stared curiously at the unfolding scene. The great Lois Lane had not only lost exclusivity on Superman, but she, in the eyes of her colleagues, had very ungraciously learned of her defeat. It was like giving jealous rivals rooting most for her failure front row seats to her humiliation. Hidden behind some of those stoic faces, she knew, was thinly veiled glee.
Perry held out the napkin that had been separating his doughnut from his papers. She graciously accepted it and wiped her mouth. Slowly, she picked herself up off the floor, pushing against the desk for support.
He gave her a moment to reclaim her dignity and said more softly, "Look, Lois. Why don't you take a few minutes to get cleaned up and we'll talk later."
She walked out of his office and avoided Clark's eyes, which she could feel on her back like two steely knives. "What the hell are you staring at!" she rattled off to her nosy co-workers, speaking more to him than them. Out of his office Perry called for a janitor to come take his trash away. She grabbed her purse from her desk and raced towards the bathroom, aware that Clark was following close behind.
"W-wait! Lois!"
She continued walking, not wanting to have the conversation in the hallway because, of course, to reveal what she was really wanted to say she'd have to talk in code, and she simply didn't have the energy for it right now. She hoped he'd take the hint. She knew he did, as the man he loved, but as the bumbling façade that masked that man she knew he wouldn't let it go. It wouldn't be in his character to know when to back off. But he caught up with her and gently but firmly pulled her to a stop.
They were standing in the middle of the hallway outside the entrance to the women's bathroom. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Clark," doing a poor job of hiding her irritation.
"B-but y-you fainted," he said. The bathroom door opened and Clark, in perfect line of sight, met eyes with a woman with her hands in her shirt, fixing herself in her bra. Making eye contact with her in the mirror, she turned around and mouthed the word pervert as the door slammed closed. His face flushed, he pulled Lois around so his back was towards the door.
"I didn't faint. I'm fine. Look! See?" She held out her arms and willed him to scan her with his x-ray vision. "I'm fine that Superman gave a huge story to my archrival. I'm fine that he just fired me as his press agent and didn't bother telling me about it. Oh, yeah, Clark. I'm just fine!"
Ignoring her words, he bowed his head and began his slow, methodical scan, thankful that she allowed him to do so. But he'd barely begun when he was interrupted.
"Hey, Clark! The Chief wants to see you," Jimmy said, clearly happy to have made himself useful by passing on the news. But one look between the pair had him fidgeting with his yellow polka-dotted tie.
"Uh, thanks, Jimmy," Clark replied. He turned back toward Lois, but she had taken advantage of his distraction and disappeared into the bathroom. He focused his vision through the door and in that instant, the young woman whom he'd seen before exited, and their met eyes again.
He bowed his head and closed his eyes, deciding that he'd had enough x-ray vision for one day. He walked away.
She was still pissed. She couldn't help it. Lois Lane did not get scooped and feel fine about it. That's why it was so hard to look at Clark, who had stopped by her apartment tonight in an attempt to make peace with her.
Sitting at the kitchen table, she stared at the red roses he'd just handed her at the door. They lay in a black china vase adorned with bright lavender petals, a gift, ironically, from Richard for her first birthday they celebrated together. She sat there, completely still, staring at him, with her hands crossed in front of her chest.
And then she burst out laughing, which was contagious because he started as well. "I'm still mad at you," Lois said, a tint of anger mixed in with her words. "You could have warned me."
"I didn't get the chance to see you before you started work this morning."
She thought about his words, what he had done, and how necessary it all was. Did she really expect life with Clark Kent to be simple? Staring at the vase, her mind drifted to that evening long ago with Richard. He had told her he loved her, blurted it out really, right after she had taken a mouthful of spaghetti. She stopped chewing upon his confession, startled as she was to hear the words yet still touched deeply. She remembered those awkward seconds of silence when she had to finish chewing and swallowing, and he waited patiently for her response. Those seconds lasted an eternity. But instead of answering him, she had started crying, and cried for nearly an hour afterwards. She didn't want him saying those words to her, knowing she couldn't say them in return.
She cleared her throat. "You know, the truth is I don't need Superman. I'm a damn good reporter and I'm widely respected by my peers and well liked by my readers. Quite honestly, I was getting bored with him. It's always the same. Saving airliners, rescuing people out of burning office buildings, pulling cats out of trees. Frankly I'm shocked that he still makes front-page news. You'd think people would be sick of hearing about him."
"Were you?" he said amusedly.
"Very much so," she replied. He looked at her longingly, his bright blue eyes highlighting the grin on his face. "We may have made peace tonight, but you are not out of the doghouse yet," she muttered. "Maybe you should try your charm on someone else tonight."
Lois always had a way of putting things that put him in his place. While he may have godly powers, there was no question who was the dominant force in their relationship. It was a high Clark knew she fed off of like a rabid dog.
Just then Jason walked into the room. Dressed in Spongebob pajamas, he held a small brown stuffed animal in one arm.
"Hey, sweetie. Come here, kiddo," Lois willed him to come to her outstretched arms. She picked him up and sat him down on her lap. "How would you," she poked a finger gently at his stomach, "like to go on a little adventure this weekend?"
"Really?" His enthusiasm caught on with the adults.
"Uh huh! Maybe if you ask Clark nicely he'll take you flying."
His face fell, and Clark's immediately followed.
"But I don't wanna…"
"Jason," she interrupted, her voice growing stern.
He looked reluctantly over at Clark, remembering his father's words and wondering, if Clark really wanted that badly to take him flying, he should let him, and he could say to his dad that he was nice to Clark.
But Clark saw a hint of excitement peak into those familiar blue eyes when Lois mentioned flying. He knew he had him. "Jason," he began, crouching down in front of the boy. "It'll be fun, I promise."
"Where would we go?" His words were so soft and tenuous.
"Anywhere you want," he said gently.
For a man with near-perfect memory recall, he was forgetting what predicament he put himself in the last time he uttered those words. She smiled at the recollection of her last evening with Superman. "You know, Clark. It might be best not to ask that of a five-year-old."
Clark blushed profusely. She was right, but surely Jason couldn't conjure up a crazy scenario of that magnitude. He dismissed her warning.
His statement, however, did intrigue the imagination of one person in the room. "Do you really mean we can go anywhere?"
"Yes," he smiled confidently.
"You promise?"
Something about the way he said the question set off warning bells, but he was too excited about the prospect of spending time with his son alone to heed them.
Jason jumped off his mother's lap and cupped his hands up against Clark's ear. Lois looked on steadfastly between her two boys. Jason began to glow, while Clark turned an uncanny shade of white, and she was quite certain she'd never seen that color on him before.
"Uh, Jason. I'm really not sure that's a good idea."
"But you promised!" He was upset, already formulating why grownups always promised one thing and did another.
Clark looked over to Lois for support.
At that moment, Superman's trademark grin transplanted itself onto Jason's face. She glowed with pride. "You promised," she said, imitating her son's voice.
He bowed his head, why did he allow his family to do this to him? "Uh, Lois, it's not that simple. Jason wants to go to…"
"Don't tell her!" He whined like it was the secret of the universe, and to a 5-year-old, it probably was.
Lois laughed hard, "I guess I'm not supposed to know."
"But Lois, you should know that because of what he's asking I wouldn't be around…"
"That's the idea, Clark," she said, getting up from the table.
"But I mean, I really won't be around. If something happens…" And that was the crux of the matter, really. He was afraid of something happening to her when he would be unable to help.
He was such a worrywart, sometimes she wanted to strangle him. "Nothing will happen, Clark. Just go and enjoy yourselves."
He looked back over at Jason, who looked at him expectantly. "Okay," he said, almost reluctantly. As the boy cried out in excitement, Clark knew that he was probably too young to realize what he was asking. He had just agreed to spend the weekend in a confined space with him, without any means of running away should he decide he wanted to. But in it Clark also sensed a golden opportunity to get to know his son. Despite the difficulty of pulling off his request, there was nothing at that moment that he wanted to do more than make his son happy.
Jason rushed into the kitchen, moving back and forth between the pantry and the refrigerator, trying to decide which one to open. He chose the fridge and found what he was looking for, a glass bottle of Coca-Cola. Shaking it, he tapped the bottle on the counter and opened it. Some of it splattered on his shirt.
"Jason! You know you're not allowed to have soda after dinner," Lois yelled, annoyed.
Her words didn't faze her. He reached up as far as he could and poured the contents of the bottle down the drain.
"Jason, what are you doing?"
He didn't answer her, but the happiness in his eyes was clearly evident. She didn't want to press. He ran to his room with the bottle in his hand.
Lois looked over at Clark who was staring back at her. She bit her tongue hard, not allowing the reporter in her to ask the forbidden question. He smiled and let out a shy, nervous laugh. She wasn't sure how, but she had the sense he had just scored a major victory.
At Metropolis State Prison, Bobby Knightly was escorted from the police van into the warden's office. He sat in his chair, playing with the handcuffs around his wrists, and whistled.
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: Liked it? Hated it? Let me know!