Cat

Now:

Cat stood and let the intercession prayers wash over her. Lord, hear our prayer. She had no doubt at all that miracles happened. And angels didn't always have wings. One at least wore a red cape and boots, and another, the one who seemed to be her guardian angel, wore horn-rimmed glasses and stammered when he got upset. And of course there was Esther and Blackie.

Adam was fidgeting. It was a long day for him, and he'd been trying to act so grown-up so as not to disappoint Unca' Clark and Aunty Essie. He was one of her miracles. Not that he had been born, although children were always miracles, but that he was with her, here.

The little Archbishop again: "Almighty and eternal God, ruler of all things in heaven and earth: Mercifully accept the prayers of your people and strengthen us to do your will; through Christ our Lord. Amen"

Another hymn as Esther carried a covered container of communion wafers to the altar. Clark walked beside her, carrying a stoppered decanter of red wine and a flask of water. The Archbishop accepted the offerings, placing them on the altar.

"Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this bread to offer, which earth has given and human hands have made. It will become for us the bread of life."

Cat joined in the response: "Blessed be God for ever." She'd been raised Roman Catholic but had fallen away even before her disastrous marriage. During the wait for Superman to save the world from the Nightfall asteroid, she'd even gone so far as to proposition a priest so she wouldn't have to be alone when the end came. Forgive me Father for I have sinned. That was a night that young man would long remember, she was sure. He'd run away from her as though she was a succubus after his immortal soul.

The priest mixed the water and wine, spoke his quiet piece. "Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this wine to offer, fruit of the vine and work of human hands. It will become our spiritual drink."

Again the response: "Blessed be God for ever."

"Lord God, we ask you to receive us and be pleased with the sacrifice we offer you with humble and contrite hearts."

Archbishop Blackie handed the water to Priest George who had a towel folded over his left arm. The little Archbishop washed his hands, wiping his hands on the linen. "Lord, wash away my iniquity; cleanse me from my sin."

Blackie knows how to put on a good show, Cat thought to herself, trying to keep from grinning. He wasn't nearly as lost as he sometimes seemed. Of course, general consensus was that his life force emanated from the cathedral, that he wouldn't last more than a week anywhere west of Evanston. East of Chicago didn't seem to be as much of a problem. He'd been present at the election of the new pope, assisting Cardinal Cronin while in Rome, had visited DC more than once. He'd even been to Metropolis at least once that he would admit to.

He continued. "Lord, hear our prayers and accept the gifts we offer for Esther Krystin and Clark Joseph. Today you have made them one in the sacrament of marriage. May the mystery of Christ's unselfish love, which we celebrate in this Eucharist, increase their love for you and for each other. We ask this through Christ our Lord."

The response from the congregation:"May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands for the praise and glory of his name, for our good, and the good of all his Church."

"The Lord be with you."

"And also with you."

"Lift up your hearts."

"We lift them up to the Lord."

"Let us give thanks to the Lord our God."

"It is right to give him thanks and praise."

"Father, all-powerful and ever-living God, we do well always and everywhere to give you thanks. You created man in love to share your divine life. We see his high destiny in the love of husband and wife, which bears the imprint of your own divine love. Love is man's origin, love is his constant calling, love is his fulfillment in heaven. The love of man and woman is made holy in the sacrament of marriage, and becomes the mirror of your everlasting love. Through Christ the choirs of angels and all the saints praise and worship your glory. May our voices blend with theirs as we join in their unending hymn."

One of the choir tenors stood up as cantor to sing: "Holy, Holy, Holy Lord, God of power and might, heaven and earth are full of your glory, Hosanna in the highest, Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, Hosanna in the highest."

Yes, Blackie knew how to put on a show. And he was doing it for her two favorite angels. Lois, eat your heart out.

Then:

"I think I have a problem," Cat Grant told Clark Kent over the phone. "Joe knows I'm up to something." She was calling him from a payphone not too far from the WGBS studios. She didn't want any long distance calls to Chicago to show up in her company phone records, and she wasn't sure if someone had access to her cell phone call records. She knew there were ways to get that information.

"What does he know?" Clark asked. He sounded only a little worried.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "But he's in Metropolis and he caught me in my office this morning, making threats, saying he was going to kill the snitch. That he knew I knew there was a snitch. I don't know if he was drunk or high. But he scared me to death."

"Did he happen to put a name on whoever he thinks this snitch is?" Clark asked.

"No, just that he knew who it was."

"Do you want to pull out?"

She sighed. As scared as she was, she knew she had promised to get enough information on Edge and his cronies to bring them down. "Not yet," she told him. "I think they've got something big coming up. There've been a lot of little comments about Superman."

"What sort of comments?"

"Like he wasn't going to be able to stop them, and they've got a way top stop him. Things like that. I'm wondering if they have kryptonite," she said, watching the people moving past her on the sidewalk.

"Look, there's no percentage in being a dead hero. If you think going back will be too dangerous, run, get out. If I have to, I can get somebody over there to get you out," Clark said. She could hear the concern in his voice and it gave her a warm feeling. She'd made a good choice coming to him with her idea, as hair-brained as it seemed at the time. Edge really had been, really was, up to no good, using his media properties to provide a base for Intergang.

"Tell you what," she said. "I'll go back tonight, see what I can get out of the computer files. I'll call you as soon as I get done, okay?"

"Okay," Clark conceded, but she could tell he wasn't really convinced.

"Talk at ya' later," she said and rang off. She leaned against the side of the open phone booth, breathing deeply to calm her nerves. One more trip in to see if she could find out what they were planning against Superman, one more disk to over-night to Clark. Maybe I should have asked him to ask Superman to keep an eye on me? No, Superman's a busy guy and I'm just not that important. But this story is.

She stopped and had a cup of coffee and a sandwich at the deli down the street from the WBGS studios. The executive offices closed down at five but no one would question her being there late. I hope. She was frequently on the upper floors after hours, taking care of last minute things for Morgan Edge. Metropolis wasn't the only city he had businesses in and he liked a hands-on approach in all his enterprises – especially the shadier ones.

A shadow fell over her table and she looked up to see a tall, well-built man with black hair standing over her. He was wearing aviator sunglasses, a biker jacket and worn jeans. Worn leather biker boots and a black t-shirt completed the ensemble.

"Miss Grant?" the man said. The voice sounded impossibly familiar. Deep, authoritative.

"My friends call me Cat," she said, inviting him to sit with a wave of her hand. "Do I know you?"

He smiled, a thousand watt smile. "We've met. At the Daily Planet."

Cat flushed at the memory of throwing herself at every adult male in the Planet newsroom. She'd even thrown herself at Superman when he'd come in to talk to Perry White about something Lois was working on. "I can show you a super time," she'd told him. He'd just given her a concerned look, like she'd lost her mind and he was wondering how soon her keepers would show up.

"A mutual friend asked me to help out, in case there was a problem," he added. "He figures it might be better if there was someone 'super' around."

"Would that friend live in the Windy City?" Superman? In aviator shades and a biker jacket? Who'd believe it?

"Indeed."

Remembering her manners: "Would you like some coffee? Something to eat?"

"Coffee's fine."

She waved to the water: "Another coffee over here please?" She turned back to her 'guest.' "So, what do your friends call you?"

He chuckled. "You can call me Kal. Kal Ellis."

His coffee arrived and she watched as he doctored it for himself. Three sugars, about half the little pitcher of half-and-half. "My friend out west must have introduced you to coffee. That's how he likes it, although for the life of me, I can't figure out how he doesn't gain weight with the way he eats."

Another chuckle. "He gets more exercise than you probably think."

I'm having coffee in a deli with Superman. "So, how many other people know you hang out in coffee shops, wearing jeans and sunglasses in your off time?"

This time he actually laughed. "Our mutual friend out west, a few others. Not many."

"So, do you often go out like...?" She gestured to his outfit, lifting one eyebrow in a question.

"It's hard to have a quiet lunch in the other outfit," he said. "Primary colors are a little... attention getting." He watched her for a long moment, expression growing more solemn, although she couldn't see his eyes behind the sunglasses. "Our mutual friend briefed me on what was happening, about the threats to you, and to me."

She checked her watch. A little after five. Across the street she could see other members of the administrative staff leaving the building, waving and nodding good byes to one another as they headed for the subway, the bus stop, the parking garage down the street.

"A few minutes more," she said. "I haven't seen Joe or Morgan leave the building, but I know there's another way out besides the obvious exits."

Kal lowered his glasses to peer over the frames. Cat had forgotten how blue his eyes were. "There's a sub-basement that goes under the street a ways. I can't make out details. It's lead-lined. Must be new. I don't remember it from the sweeps of the city I did right after the crystalquake."

"Doesn't New Troy have rules about using lead in new construction and remodels?" Cat asked.

"I doubt the building inspectors have seen that sub-basement," Kal reminded her.

Getting in had been as easy as she had expected. Cat introduced her companion to the building security guard manning the entrance to the executive suits as her new boy friend, Kal. From her own computer she managed to access much of the data she had promised Clark, but some of it needed to come from Edge's on computer. She hadn't been able to access the information through the network.

"Blast," she murmured to herself when she realized the precautions Edge had put into place.

"Problem?" Kal asked. He looked relaxed, sitting in a chair beside her desk facing the door to her office, ostensibly reading one of the film magazines she kept on the table beside the door. He looked relaxed, but she knew he was keeping an eye on the hallway outside, the elevator shaft just down the corridor, the security people on their patrols.

"Morgan forgot to give me the network passkey for the stuff he wanted me to work on for him," she said. They were both assuming her office was bugged, that there were listeners.

Suddenly, Kal stiffened.

"Something wrong?"

He shook his head, but she knew he was covering up something. "Are you about done? This place gives me the creeps." She stifled a smile at his statement. Even in civvies he was an impressive guy, obviously able to handle himself. But there was a definite whine in his voice.

"Half-an-hour maybe," she said. "Once I'm done with the stuff I promised to finish for my boss. I'll have to go next door for that, though."

"It can't wait for tomorrow?"

"The boss leaves for Gotham tomorrow morning. I should have had this all done this afternoon, except my idiot ex barged in there, got me too upset to work."

Kal nodded, but he obviously wasn't happy. He kept looking at the wall between the two offices. Cat handed him the SD card she'd just finished filling and he dropped it into the inside pocket of his jacket. Then she went to the door that adjoined her office with Edge's, opened it with her key, and stepped inside. She felt a breeze blow past her.

What happened then was a blur. The room beyond exploded in a white hot ball of fire. Then she found herself in the air, high above the burning building in the blue clad arms of Superman. "What happened?"

"A bomb, set to go off when the adjoining door was opened," Superman explained.

"Someone really wants me dead?"

"You, or someone else with a key to that door," he said. "Janitor, security, even one of his other assistants, possibly even Edge himself."

"You didn't put out the fire," she pointed out.

"I have what you needed," he said, shifting his hold on her to free up one hand. He held up a computer hard-drive in his now free hand and handed it to her. "I doubt they'll realize it's missing."

"How do I explain that I'm still alive?" she asked as he landed in the alley behind the Daily Planet. He set her gently on her feet.

"I'll take care of that," he said. "If anyone asks, you and Kal decided to leave only a minute or so before it happened."

The he disappeared into the air faster than she could see.

Lois Lane, how could you possibly have given that up for Richard?