Lois

Now:

Lois reached over to take Richard's hand. He accepted her grasp, but nothing more, no rubbing the back of her hand the way he used to. The way he did when they were first dating, when they were first married. I should never have said yes to him, given him false hope that I would ever love him as I had him. And I did love him and now he's gone.

The bride was tall and slender, blonde, blue eyes, almost inhuman in her beauty. The gown was unbelievable, all satin and Irish lace, obviously custom designed.

Lois had to fight down pangs of jealousy. She'd gotten married wearing a beige suit in a small side chapel by a minister who barely cared what their names were. She and Richard weren't members of his church even though they lived just down the street. It was Richard's promise to start attending services and to bring Jason to Sunday school that got them in at all. And except for a couple police officers, Maggie Sawyer and Bill Henderson among them, and coworkers from the Planet, there where few witnesses. Making the guest list, Lois realized she really had no friends outside of work, and the people at work couldn't really be considered friends. Except for Clark and it was obvious to all observers that he hadn't wanted to be there.

Clark was getting married in a cathedral to a fairy princess. I'd forgotten how handsome he is, despite the glasses. At least he's not slouching as much. I hope she appreciates what she's getting.

The little priest with the crimson trimmed collar continued: "Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church."

Clark and Esther joined right hands as instructed. Their eyes were on one another. No one else mattered. Not the priest, not the attendants, not Lois Lane-White and her foolhardy decision two years before.

"I, Clark Joseph, take you, Esther Krystin for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

"I, Esther Krystin, take you, Clark Joseph, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.

The little priest again, looking out at the audience, apparently surprised to see anyone there. "You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined, men must not divide."

"Amen." Lois intoned with the rest of the congregants. Perry's low voice mixed with Richard's higher one on either side of her.

Clark is married now. To a woman named Esther. Why can't I be glad for him?

Then:

Superman no longer made Metropolis his home and Clark Kent had moved to Chicago. Cat Grant had quit the Daily Planet and was working for Galaxy Broadcasting System, although the rumor mill made claims that Perry had fired her, supposedly over her alcohol problems or maybe drugs.

Lex Luthor's fate had finally been discovered, or at least the Cuban government finally admitted to finding Luthor. The villain was found with his downed helicopter on a sand bar. There was no word on the fate of Kitty Kowalski. She hadn't been on the island with him. It was reported that he attempted to co-opt the crew of the Cuban cruiser and ended up being killed.

The Cuban government found one of Superman's crystals on Luthor's body and returned it to him in trade for certain, undisclosed, 'favors'.

Lois and Richard settled into married life, not much different than their life before. Jason went to school, got decent grades in academics, not so good in sports but he was improving there. He was starting to outgrow his health issues. Fewer foods were now on his forbidden list and he was growing normally. Richard complained, mostly jokingly, that Jason was needing a new wardrobe every four months now, he was gaining height so fast.

Then the fighting started, the phone calls from the school that Jason had lost his temper, usually defending Superman. The other kids would blame the superhero for being absent during some minor disaster that local emergency workers could handle. Jason would over react to the criticism of his hero, using his new strength and height to take on all comers.

"Mrs. White," Jason's teacher said. "We cannot tolerate fighting. I know your son is one of Superman's biggest fans, but we cannot allow him to fight, not even to defend the Man of Steel."

"Superman saved his life, you know," Lois told her. "During the Luthor's crystalquake. And he's been missing him."

"We all miss having him around, Mrs. White, but that doesn't excuse Jason's behavior."

"I'll talk to him," Lois promised.

The woman handed Lois a business card. Lois glanced at it: Barbara Lassiter, family psychologist. "You're suggesting Jason needs professional help?"

"I am saying that in my experience, family troubles frequently manifest themselves in the child's behavior. Jason's need to defend Superman isn't something that just popped up out of nowhere. I'm told that your husband is not Jason's biological parent and the man who is moved away from Metropolis?"

"So?"

"I don't know the circumstances, but you might want to consider contacting your son's real father to bring him in on this problem."

"My husband is Jason's real father, and I will thank you to remember that."

At work, Lois was following the trail of Intergang. In Superman's absence, gang violence had increased in Metropolis, much of it related to Intergang's attempts to drive out or recruit all competitors. She'd also come across indications that Intergang was trying to break into more legitimate businesses across the country, among them, television and radio.

She took her suspicions to Perry, who nodded and said: "It's a good start, but you really need to talk to Clark Kent, see what he has on them."

"Clark? What has he got to do with this?"

"I happen to know he's working the same subject from a different angle and I think it would be a good use of time and effort if the two of you pooled your resources," Perry stated.

"Perry, the man walked out and moved to Chicago," she reminded her editor.

Perry raised one brindled eyebrow at her. "He didn't 'walk out'. I arranged a transfer for him, and you know why. Now, either get in touch with him about this story or not, I really don't care. But, if I end up with two Intergang investigations on my desk, it'll be the better piece that I run. So don't forget that."

Lois did call Chicago. Clark was out, so she left a message for him to email her. He did, the next day, although she had expressly asked that he get back to her as soon as possible. Twenty-four hours later didn't exactly qualify as 'as soon as possible' in her book.

Clark's email was short and to the point. He was tracking Intergang's relationship with the media and was looking into suspicions that criminal inroads into radio and television were far greater and deeper than originally suspected. He also indicated he had access to someone working in one of the media properties Intergang appeared tied to.

She emailed him back, asking for details, the name of the broadcasting group he suspected, more on his sources. Another twenty-four hours. Isn't the man ever at his desk? This time a flat refusal: 'Lois, I am frankly astonished you would even consider asking the names of the people who are involved in helping me in this investigation. As journalists we have an obligation to protect our sources, even from other journalists. I will be happy to share what information I have with you, but not that.'

She called him again, finally reaching him at his desk.

"Clark, this is Lois, remember me, Daily Planet?"

"Of course I remember you, Lois. But please make this quick. I don't have much time."

"About this Intergang thing. I'll give you my sources if you'll give me yours, okay?" She figured it was a fair deal.

"I'm sorry Lois, but I can't. I promised to keep their names confidential, strictly off the record. If anyone even suspected there were people talking... I can't, I won't. I'm sorry," he said. He sounded odd, no stammer, no stutter, not at all Clark-like.

"Clark, this is me, Lois, your ex-partner. You can trust me. You know I protect my sources." She was nearly pleading and hated herself for it. Lois Lane didn't beg for anything, especially not from Clark Kent.

"Lois, this has nothing to do with whether or not I trust you," Clark tried to explain. "I've already told you I'm willing to share whatever information I get, assuming you do the same. But I will not divulge my sources. Not to you, not to Perry, not to anyone."

In the background Lois could hear a female voice calling Clark's name.

"Fine, be that way," Lois spat out and hung up. The gall of the man, refusing to give her what she'd asked for. She'd told him he could trust her, he always had before. Maybe he didn't trust her anymore. She hadn't been exactly nice to him before he left, but he should have been professional enough to put that behind him.

She dialed his number again, but got his voice mail this time. She left her cell number for him to call her back. He didn't call.

He emailed her several days later, from Guatemala of all places. "The answer is still no. But I think we need to talk, compare notes." Fine, be that way. She started sending his emails directly into the trash and erased his voice mails without listening to them. Perry had said he'd print the better story. She seriously doubted it would be from a hayseed in Chicago.

Three weeks later, Perry called Lois into his office. "Mike is running the first part of the Intergang story tomorrow. What have you got for me?"

"Give me fifteen minutes to finish it off," Lois promised. She ran back to her desk, opened the file and sat down to finish it. Fifteen minutes later, she sent it off to Perry to look over.

Half an hour later, Perry called her back into his office. He handed her a print out. "Lois, I told you I'd run the piece that was best. That one's the best."

She read the byline – Clark Kent, Chicago Star.

"I would have liked you two to have shared that byline, pooled your resources," Perry said quietly. "As good as his is, it would have been better with both of you together."

"I did call him. He wouldn't do it, wouldn't share his sources," Lois told him.

"Lois, I think I know who he was protecting," he told her. "And I wouldn't have told you either. I still won't tell you. But the next time I tell you to collaborate with someone, you will do it. So, do you want to call him? Work with him to rewrite these two pieces into one better one, or not?"

She scanned the article Clark wrote. It was a damning exposé of Morgan Edge, Intergang, the use of electronic media to skew public perceptions. Clark had documented Edge's misuse of Galaxy Broadcasting, WGBS and its sister stations, in furthering his criminal goals, laundering money, passing messages, drugs, dirty politics, racketeering.

She handed the piece back to Perry. "Run it. I doubt I can add anything to what he's already got there. He's covered both Metropolis and Chicago. I certainly didn't catch the WGBS connection. I hope his editor nominates him for some awards on this one. Clark deserves it."

Lois walked out of Perry's office and went back to her desk. She sat, putting her head in her hands. Richard spotted her and came over to her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Have you read what Clark wrote on Intergang?" she asked.

"Yes," he admitted. "It's very good. But I think Perry's right. It would have been even better if the two of you had worked together."

The television monitor on the column a short distance from her desk showed Superman in the midst of a rescue, a flood somewhere in Southeast Asia, getting people out of harm's way.

"Richard, I can't go there," Lois said, watching the screen. "Don't ask me to."

That night, when Lois and Richard made love, it was her ex-partner's name she murmured in the height of passion, not her husband's.