Hello, everyone! I just wanted to give a brief moment of apology for the lateness of this chapter. We both got rather sick the other week from God knows what and took a little more time than expected to recover. That said, we're caught up this week and we've also got one of the huge setpieces for next chapter almost finished.

Also we want everyone to send out some love and a hot water bottle to htbthomas, who not only had to deal with Little Miss' ear moment earlier this week, but now is sick to boot. We love you, B! And I need to send out a little more love to my LJ Twin, seanmontgomery, as she is only just behind B in steering us the right way with the plot. I don't mention her as often as I know I should! We love you, Abby!

And now, say it with me! "On with the show!"

No words between them when he dropped her off on the roof; Lois turned to him mutely as he let her down, and he smiled sadly. Touching her cheek once, so lightly, Kal-El left before he couldn't bring himself to go, not trusting himself to speak.

Lois had turned her face into his palm, closing her eyes for a second to savor his touch. Oh, yes, when all of this over, we have a lot to talk about. All of us.

Shaking off her melancholy mood, Lois headed downstairs. She had much more important things to think about at the moment. Like where the twins were… Lois had to suppress a shudder. God, please.

Hurrying the rest of the way down to the Planet offices, Lois kept her mind turned resolutely forward. She'd no sooner stepped into the conference room, however, than she stopped cold.

Four heads turned to look at her. Jimmy, Perry, Richard … and Lana. Lana? What the hell is she doing here?

For one instant her expression must have been obvious. Jimmy cringed, Perry looked away, and Richard flinched. Lana, however, met her eyes frankly.

Whatever unfortunate thing Lois was about to say was forestalled by the door behind her opening – and knocking into her arm. "Oops! Gee, sorry, Lois," Clark said earnestly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she growled, thinking I know you could see me right through that door! But then she realized how much of a hypocrite she was being over Lana. What right do I have to be territorial? "Hi, Ms. Lang. Thanks for helping us."

"If I'm going to be helping you find the twins, Ms. Lane, I think we ought to switch to Lana and Lois, don't you?" The tone was perfectly friendly, her sea-green eyes without a trace of irony. "Sit down; let's bring you up to date. Clark, what have you found?"

Perry looked a little nonplussed; having his authority usurped twice in one day – and not by Lois – was a record. Clark adjusted his glasses as he sat down, and said, "Well, the number that the message was sent from belongs to a woman in Schenectady. But when we called it back, she answered. The phone wasn't stolen or anything; apparently there's some kind of program where you can set up a cell phone to give out a different number each time it dials. The false callback number can be anyone from the network."

"So it's a dead end," Lois sighed, biting her lip. What did you expect, Lane? The poor man only had a couple of minutes anyway.

"Well, not totally," Clark said. "The phone he actually sent the message from is GPS-enabled. So we can find out exactly where he was."

"All right, then, let's do it," Lois said. "Who do we have to call?"

"That's the problem," Clark replied. "It's private information. Only a police officer or a properly authorized government official can access it."

"Neither of which we can contact," Richard griped. "Dammit."

"The police already know, and there's nothing we can do about it," Lois said, remembering suddenly. "Todd Thomas called them when he found the twins' teacher hurt… My God, I left the phone hanging. Barbara must've panicked…"

"I took care of that," Perry said. "The hospital's gonna keep us updated on Mrs. Mosley. And as for the cops, I told Lieutenant Sawyer about Luthor's threat. Maybe she can help with getting the cell phone information."

"Let me try first," Lois said earnestly, and glanced at Clark. "I can usually wheedle any kind of confidential information from a source. And the less we involve the police, the better. I don't trust Luthor not to have some way of knowing exactly what we're all doing."

"Speaking of you, I assume you got a hold of Superman?" Perry asked. "What did he have to say?"

Lois managed to keep from glancing at Clark, though it wasn't easy. "Well, my hunch about that little chip of crystal paid off. It's Kryptonian – Lex Luthor has been to Superman's Fortress of Solitude. The bastard stole ten crystals containing a vast amount of information about science and technology."

That left all of them silent with foreboding; even Clark managed to seem shocked by the news. "Where?" Richard asked, and Lois shook her head to let him know it was confidential.

"His … retreat, I guess you could call it. And no, I can't say where it is," Lois told them. "Unfortunately, the only other human being who knows the location is Lex Luthor. Superman just found out about the theft today, when he saw the chip of crystal I found."

"I know," Lois said grimly. "Taking the twins is just a ploy to buy time, I'll bet. Once Superman – or I – found out about the missing crystals, all hell was sure to break loose. This is Luthor's way of keeping us busy while he does God-alone-knows-what."

"Us?" Richard interjected. "Superman is going to help us look for the kids?"

Lois hesitated for a fraction of an instant, and this time couldn't stop her eyes from darting to Clark. A tiny mistake, but one Richard would be sure to spot. To cover it, she replied quickly, "Yes, he's forgiven me for being a complete bitch to him in print, as Toby Raines would say. And I've forgiven him for leaving the entire planet without a forwarding address. So yeah, he's going to help."

Everyone at the table shared a speculative glance. Of them, only Lois had seen Superman with any kind of frequency. Jimmy and Perry had each met him once or twice, but for Lana and Richard seeing the superhero was going to be a novel experience.

"First things first," Perry said gruffly, "we'll see if we can narrow down this list. I know he can see through anything except lead, but that doesn't mean he's got the time to look over every square inch of the city. If the twins are even still in Metropolis. Lane, Kent, grab some paperwork. We ought to be able to knock this out pretty quickly with all six of us."

…

"Okay, boss," Stanford said. "Here we go." Riley and his camera hovered in the background. Lex merely nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak.

On the lighted worktable in front of Stanford lay fragments of the meteorite. The outer pieces were black and charred, but the ones from the center of the rock were a deep, translucent green. The largest remaining piece was a smoothed cylinder about the thickness of Stanford's bicep, and it was currently fitted into a padded vise with a large-bore drill bit just touching one end.

He took a deep breath, glancing at Lex again as he started the drill. Now everything he knew about mineralogy was being put to the test; if he'd calculated the flaws in the stone, its stress lines, incorrectly, the whole thing would shatter.

And Lex would probably kill him. Trying to ignore the trickle of sweat running down his spine, Stanford touched the drill to the stone.

Slowly, slowly, the diamond-tipped bit polished its way through the kryptonite. Riley leaned in close, and Stanford bit his lip; this was not the moment to distract him! Didn't that idiot realize this was incredibly delicate work?

Probably not – none of these guys had any appreciation for things that required more dexterity than pressing buttons. Not even Riley, with his camera obsession, had any true technical skill. Even as he guided the drill further into the kryptonite cylinder, slowly boring a channel into its center, Stanford couldn't quite stop himself from reflecting on the difference between himself and the other three men Lex had brought on this mission.

They're thugs, plain and simple. Hired for their muscles, not their brains. And I shudder to think too much about what goes on in their minds, anyway – never again will I try to make friends with these goons by going to one of Riley's movie nights. He suppressed a slight tremor at the memory of those films, which Riley called his little documentaries. They all followed one theme, and it wasn't one that Stanford, whose worst offense had been fraud, could possibly enjoy. Even Brutus stays away from it, which is really saying something. Of all the 'security' guys, he's the oddest. Never talks about what he did time for; never talks about anything much, really. And he doesn't get in on all the macho strutting the rest of them spend so much time and energy on. Maybe he doesn't need to, since he's the biggest and burliest of them?

More than halfway through, and Lex was still watching with almost reptilian concentration. Did the man ever blink? Speaking of people who made Stanford nervous, Lex topped the list. I may be useful to him, more so than these guys, he thought, slowing the forward progress of the drill even more. But he made it plain that he takes no prisoners. 'Your life expectancy is directly proportionate to your usefulness multiplied by your loyalty.' One hell of a quote, and I bet no one else realized that the way it's worded, the minute either your usefulness or loyalty drops to zero, you die.

Of course, he's paying everyone well. Very well. But he asks a lot, too. No outside contact. No women at the facility in Nevada – and that was pretty unpopular. No fighting amongst each other, which is practically a hobby for some of them. And no questions, ever. Do as you're told and you'll end up rich. Defy Lex, and die.

The drill bit stuttered, and Stanford hastily backed it out an eighth of an inch. Oblivious to Riley and Lex, he walked around the vise, peering at the crystal. It had only struck a tiny flaw in the kryptonite that ran counter to the rest of the planes of crystal growth. Stanford backed the drill the rest of the way out and started to blow the dust off of it.

"Don't," Lex said. "Save it. It doesn't exactly fall from the sky like manna six days a week, you know."

The mineralogist glanced at him again, but carefully tapped the kryptonite dust into a tray. As he did so, Stanford noticed that one of the large shards was missing from the worktable. The one that happened to be shaped a lot like a blade…

I'm not thinking about that, he told himself as he put in a fresh, sharp bit and eased it into the nearly-completed channel, Riley's camera practically on his shoulder. This with using those kids for bait is bad enough, but I don't want to speculate on why Lex needs a kryptonite shiv. Questioning the boss' motives is bad for your health around here…

…

At last they'd sorted the likely locations from the probable and merely possible ones. The lists were still depressingly long; there were so many places that Luthor could hide a couple of frightened kids. Many of them could even be easily soundproofed. Lois looked at the list of Vanderworth properties in and around Metropolis, and for a moment her heart quailed. They could be anywhere … and we still don't even know if his hint was genuine or a red herring.

But then that fighting spirit rose. Lex is just arrogant enough to give us a real clue. And I'll see to it he regrets that before I'm done. "Okay, people, let's split up. We'll each take a section and start searching." In her mind she was already planning which sectors Richard should search, which she would take, and which Clark ought to handle.

Suddenly, as everyone seated at the table reached for the lists, Lois remembered Perry's heart, and Jimmy's naïveté. And Lana – she had no idea what she was getting into here. But before she could even decide what to say, Clark intervened.

"We ought to go in pairs," he said. "And someone needs to stay here and monitor the situation, keep us in touch with each other. Keep checking the news and keep an eye out for Luthor's next move. Chief – there's no one better to command headquarters."

That was … pretty damn deft for the clueless goober he pretends to be, Lois thought, but Perry accepted it for now. "Sounds reasonable. Olsen, you're here with me."

"But Chief…"

Perry cut him a glare that was somehow still fatherly. "Olsen, what're you gonna do if you're stuck alone in an alley with Luthor? Beat him with your camera?"

Jimmy glanced around the table, and replied, "Well, are Lois and Ms. Lang going?"

"Lois'll shoot him," Perry said sharply. "As for Ms. Lang…"

"I have no intention of being caught alone in an alley with a maniac," Lana said quickly. "Isn't that why we're going in pairs? At least I'll have company."

"Lana, you don't have to…" Richard began, but she silenced him with a look.

"I said I'd help you," the redhead said with quiet composure. "And I will. Besides, Lois has her gun – I've got a can of Mace in my purse. Girl's best friend in the big city. That seems to make us the only ones armed around here – although I definitely bow to Lois' superior firepower."

The four glanced at each other, and Lois realized just how this would have to pan out. "Fine. Richard, you and I will take everything on this list north of 51st. Clark, you and Lana take everything south." At least he can keep her safe. Lana shouldn't be in on this … neither should Richard. Neither one of them have any idea just how low Luthor will sink to get back at the both of us.

Richard glanced at her, then looked out the window. "C'mon, let's get moving. Daylight's wasting."

Perry and Jimmy watched the three reporters – and one brave fashion designer – head out. The editor-in-chief cursed his age, but mostly his heart; cursed every steak he'd eaten, every cigar he'd smoked, every cup of coffee he'd drunk. He was paying the price for those decisions now, forced like an aging bloodhound to remain at the kennel while the younger, stronger dogs took up the hunt.

Jimmy sighed heavily. "Well, Chief, I guess it's up to us to see what else we can track down on Luthor."

"Course it is," the older man said, feeling an echo of pride and valor rise in his chest. "And I'm the best one for it, the kids know that. Nothing like an old reporter for digging up secrets. C'mon, kid, let's go down to the archives."

…

Lois headed for her parking spot, and then remembered that her car was out of commission. And that seems so very coincidental now. Feels like it happened days – months –ago. Damn Luthor. He's plotted this from beginning to end. She refused to let herself think what that meant for their chances of finding the twins. Luthor's been beaten before. He may be smart, but he's no match for Lois Lane and Superman on the warpath, she told herself.

Beside her, Richard was already fishing his keys out of his pocket, and she mentally added, And Richard. He went to his car, a gunmetal-gray Saab Aero Sport Sedan which he adored about as much as Lois loved her Audi, and paused by the driver's side door.

Blue eyes met hazel. "Do you want to drive?" Richard offered.

Lois smiled sadly. "You don't want me behind the wheel right now, Richard. But thanks. I understand…" What an amazingly good man he is. Offering to give me control of something, even if it's just a steering wheel. And I know how he feels about his 'born from jets' car. But no…

"Okay," he said quietly, and unlocked the doors for both of them. "You want to head for the furthest out and work our way in?"

"Sounds good," Lois muttered, looking at the list. "Go up Bond Avenue to Neill Street, then."

Silence ruled between them for a long time, each busy with their own tumultuous thoughts. Richard was finding it surprisingly awkward to be with Lois at the moment, questions about her meeting with Superman nibbling at his mind. Lois was swinging between anger and anguish, trying to be strong for the twins, but terrified for them.

After a while, Richard asked, "So what else did you find out?"

"Huh?"

"You were gone a while," he replied, not accusingly, his voice just curious as he kept his eyes on the road. "Since we've got a few minutes, tell me what happened."

Oh, like that's not awkward as hell. My conversation with my ex is so not any of your business. Lois sighed in aggravation, and said simply, "He recognized the crystals, and I made him take me with him to the Fortress. I've never … I never realized he could be so furious. Luthor's in for a surprise."

Richard's eyebrows rose, but he changed the topic a little. "The Fortress. That's twice you've mentioned it. What, does he have some castle up in the Himalayas or something?"

At least it made Lois chuckle. "No, nothing like that. Well… It's kind of… The Fortress of Solitude is where he keeps the remnants of his Kryptonian heritage. More a museum and library than a home. And no one – except me and that bastard Luthor – knows where it is."

"How'd Luthor find out?" Richard was trying to keep her talking, stop her from plunging back into despair.

That worked; Lois bristled, her hazel eyes brightening with spite. "Somehow Luthor tracked him. And he led those Kryptonians – General Zod and his little friends – right to the Fortress. With Non carrying me as bait."

Richard glanced at her. "But Luthor's trial…"

Lois cleared her throat angrily. "I had amnesia; I'd seen Superman very nearly killed, or so I thought, and I'd been held prisoner by three psychotic intergalactic criminals, each with his powers. It was post-traumatic stress or something that made me block it all out. By the time I got the memories back, Vanderworth's fancy lawyers had already gotten my testimony blocked, and Luthor was out of jail."

Richard's hands tensed on the wheel. "God, I hate how much money can do in the wrong hands."

"Tell me about it," Lois said softly, staring out the window as they threaded their way through traffic.

…

Perry's eyes weren't quite up to the microfiche, he grudgingly admitted, so he let Olsen search the archives while he handled the phones. Before he could even place the first call, however, his direct line rang. "Daily Planet, White," he said gruffly into the phone.

"Peregrine White, you tell my daughter to drag herself off of whatever story you've got her chasing and get home right this instant. She and the twins are missing Nora's birthday party!"

Perry winced. "Elinore…"

"Don't even start with me, Perry. Lois isn't answering her cell phone, and you'd think she would learn her lesson after what happened earlier this week. Don't make me drive up there to get her…"

Perry closed his eyes, remembering that the phone was now in his desk drawer, turned off. "Ella, listen," he said, his voice getting a little hoarse. God, he could hear the other kids in the background, and it just made the present situation all the worse.

"This had better be good," she replied sharply, as Lucy called her name admonishingly from somewhere near the phone.

"It's isn't," Perry told her, and something about his tone finally silenced her. "Ella, I think you should take the call somewhere away from the kids. I'll hold."

"Oh, God…"

"Ella, go pick up the other extension. Do it." None of his usual jocular flirtation now. Perry was all business.

Elinore Lane had been a general's wife, and she coped. The phone clacked against the table briskly, and he heard her say to Lucy, "Hang it up in a minute; I'll take this in your room."

"Mom?"

"Lucy, do as I say."

In a moment, Perry heard another receiver picked up, and after a pause, the first one was replaced in its cradle. "Well, Mr. White?" Ella said.

Perry took a deep breath and ground his knuckles against his eyes, hating what he would have to tell her.

…

"Your car or mine?" Lana said in the elevator, lifted an auburn brow at Clark.

"Well, you know, I only live a few blocks from work," he replied with only half his attention. The rest was listening to Lois, trying to decide if she was going to be all right. So far it sounded promising.

"Ah. My car by default." Lana nodded, reaching into her purse for the keys. "I warn you, it's a rental. One my assistant picked, no less. I don't normally drive a Cadillac."

"A what?" Clark said, turning to look at her with a slight frown.

"She says I'm supposed to travel in style. I vetoed the red convertible, so she had to get a high-end Cadillac DTS instead. I mean, really. How pretentious can you get?" Lana said.

"Couldn't you exchange it?" Clark was having trouble reconciling the Lana he knew, whose parents had been well-off by Smallville standards but were strictly Oldsmobile drivers, with the fashion designer who was presently walking up to a pale green Cadillac.

"All they had left were SUVs and a couple of sports cars. This was the most sensible option," Lana replied. In spite of her disparaging remarks, she smiled fondly at the car. "It looks good with my hair, too. The color's called Green Silk."

Clark just stared, and she chuckled at him as she unlocked the doors. As long as he'd been in Metropolis, he was still a bit overwhelmed by a car that was probably worth as much as his first year's salary with the Planet. "Sorry, having a designer moment. Where do you want to start?" Lana turned somber again as she thought about their mission, the twins' peril suppressing her normally cheerful personality.

Looking at their list, Clark quickly figured out which ones were closest and which were more distant. "Let's start nearby and work our way out," he replied. "The first possibility is this office building just over on Stamp Avenue."

Lana nodded as they both buckled their seat belts. "I think I knew which one, too. The 'for lease' sign in the front window looks fairly old." As she steered the Cadillac out of the garage and onto the street, she glanced at Clark and asked, "How do you plan to get in, anyway?"

Clark hadn't thought about that one. He was pretty sure that Lois had sent Lana with him so he could keep her safe, knowing that his x-ray vision meant they didn't actually have to break in. "Oh, I wasn't planning on going inside," he replied diffidently. "We ought to be able to tell if there's been any, uh, recent activity without having to break and enter."

Lana nodded. "Sounds wise. Of course, Lois is probably planning to shoot locks off doors and God knows what else."

"Richard won't let her," Clark said quickly. "Not to mention, she wouldn't make all that noise when she could just pick the lock."

"Easy, boy, you don't have to get all defensive," Lana said, raising an auburn brow at him.

"Lana, I didn't mean…"

The redhead sighed. "Clark, I know … you're in love with her." It was on the tip of her tongue to say I know you're the father of her children, but she paused and demurred instead. That wasn't her place to say, if he didn't know; and if he did know, she'd wait for him tell her.

"Lana…"

"You made your feelings on this topic perfectly clear at the restaurant the other day," Lana said, forestalling his objection. "But even if you're uncomfortable admitting you love her, it's still true."

"And Richard's still her fiancé," he pointed out, rather abruptly.

"Clark … he's not blind, either," she said, not noticing the alarmed look on Clark's face. "As a matter of fact … Clark, he thinks…" Lana brought the car to a halt in front of a stop sign at the corner, and turned to look at him. "Just how involved were you with Lois Lane?"

Blue eyes opened wide, and for a moment no answer was forthcoming. "Lana … I don't know what you're talking about…"

Oh, the heck with it. If he's searching for them, he ought to at least know. "Clark, please. You do know. Richard … he thinks the twins are yours."

…

The glass floor was black as pitch now, and the twins stayed away from it. It just looked way too creepy, like anything that wanted to could just swim up from underneath and take a bite out of them. Of course, that forced them away from the skylight and into the deepening darkness.

After several minutes of tense silence, Kala whispered, "Jason?"

"Yeah?"

"You scared?"

"A little." His tone was so hushed that only she could've heard it.

Another pause as they watched the shadows grow, seeming to pulse with malevolent life. "Me too," Kala finally murmured, and leaned against his shoulder.

In the moment before absolute blackness descended on them, before hope of salvation vanished forever, the overhead lights suddenly came on. Instead of cheering, the twins flinched, the bright lights stinging their eyes. "Ow," they complained in unison, trying to shade their faces with their hands.

The main door opened, and a friendly voice called, "Hey, it's getting kinda dark in here. Thought you guys could use the light."

Blinking rapidly, Jason recovered first. He recognized the man who entered the room and locked the door behind him as the same one who'd brought their meals. "Thanks," Jason said cautiously. "It was gettin' dark."

"Me, I don't like the dark," the man told them. "You never know what's in it, right? Better to have lights on at night. I even keep my lamp on in my bedroom – the guys tease me about it."

"That's mean," Kala opined. "How come they tease you?"

"Well, 'cause I'm a big guy," he replied as he moved toward the couches on the other end of the room. He was carrying several blankets and a couple of pillows, and he started to arrange these items into beds for the twins. "They think I'm a scaredy-cat because I'm a grownup and I don't like the dark."

"They're mean," Jason said sullenly. "They hurt me an' Kala when they brought us here."

The big man went still for an instant, then turned around. His eyes were suddenly scary, but his voice when he spoke was more outraged than angry. "They hurt you?"

"Squeezed my arms, threw us in here," Kala replied, intrigued now.

"I didn't sign up for no job that involves hurtin' kids," the man said. "And it ain't gonna happen where I can see it, lemme tell ya. I'll have a little talk with those other guys, and they'll leave you alone from now on."

"Mister, can you get us out of here?" Jason asked, trying not to let his voice tremble at the thought.

He came over toward them, not too close, and sat down at the piano bench. "Kids, there's nothing I'd like more than to jump this ship and take you both with me," he said sincerely. "But we're already out to sea, and I don't know how to steer this boat. The only other way out is the helicopter, and I can't fly that, either. We're stuck."

That news depressed the otherwise irrepressible twins. For a few minutes they sat in silence, absorbing the inevitable. But eventually the thought of their father – their real father – coming to their rescue cheered them again. He could fly, after all.

The man touched the keys of the piano lightly, playing a few notes. "You know, I never even got your names. I'm Brutus."

The twins hesitated a moment longer. He didn't seem mean, like the others. He was trapped in this situation, like the twins; he was afraid of the dark, just like them. Kala was the first to give her name, and Jason followed suit.

Brutus nodded. "Nice to meet you, kids. Well, do you need anything else?"

"You're leaving?" Jason asked.

"Well, Mr. Luthor has stuff he wants me to do," he replied. "That guy … I wouldn't want to upset him, you know?"

They both nodded. "Are you coming back?" Kala said.

He grinned at them. "With breakfast in the morning. I'm gonna switch the side lights on and the overheads off, okay? Make it easier for you guys to sleep. It won't be too dark, though."

"You're sure?" Jason's voice trembled a little, though he tried to hide it. Kala scooted a little closer to him, looking up nervously.

"Nah, it'll be fine. See that bar along the wall? There's a light set under each one of them, every couple feet. You'll have plenty of light. They're dimmer than the ones overhead."

The twins nodded, both still a trifle wary. Brutus went out, giving them a brief wave, and they heard the door lock.

What they had both thought was a merely decorative strip of metal, running along both walls at about shoulder height to an adult, now proved to be a low-intensity light. A moment after those lights switched on, the brighter overheads went out.

It was dark … but not too dark. With the reassurance provided by the lights, the grand ballroom became intriguing and mysterious instead of forbidding. The light also began to attract fish to the glass. Not giant, scary, child-eating fish, but pretty little darting fish. The twins dragged the sofa cushions, blankets, and pillows over the glass floor and stared into the magical underwater realm.

A casual observer might have thought the children were enjoying a holiday, but no one who knew them well could mistake the signs of strain. Jason wasn't taking the opportunity to show off his science knowledge by naming the various types of fish, and Kala wasn't claiming that he made some of them up. In fact, both of them were nearly silent, and not arguing with each other – a sure sign to those who loved them that things were far from normal.