Author's Note: AU of Bulletproof/Power/Requiem. I couldn't stomach doing the last two stories separately.
The Real Thing
It had been almost a week since Chloe and Jimmy's wedding, and Oliver had yet to hear a peep out of either Lois or Clark. He knew they were both busy with their jobs, and with taking care of the fallout of the Doomsday attack on the wedding so that the happy couple didn't have to, but they could have at least given him a phone call to tell him that they were all right. They were even ignoring his attempts to call them.
Enough, Oliver decided, was enough.
He went out to the Kent farm and found Clark's truck still parked in the driveway, not that that meant anything where Clark was concerned. Oliver got out of his car and was almost bowled over by Clark's big golden retriever, who jumped on him, eagerly, licking his face and sniffing at his pockets.
"Good dog," Oliver said, uneasily, trying to push the dog away. The dog continued nosing around his pockets, and Oliver backed up until he was trapped against the side of his car.
"Clark?" he called out, not wanting to admit that he'd been cornered by the dog, but seeing no other choice in the matter. "Clark, come get your dog!"
"He thinks you have treats."
Oliver turned his head at the sound of a woman's voice, and watched Lana Lang stroll casually across the driveway like she owned the place.
"Shelly, get away from him," she scolded, sternly.
The dog gave her a disgusted look before darting away from the hand she was reaching for his collar with and jumping into the back seat of Oliver's convertible, where he lay down on the floor and refused to budge.
"Shelly!" Lana snapped, reaching out to grab the dog, again, but Oliver stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"I think his name is Shelby, actually," he corrected her, and the dog wagged his tail, happily.
"Whatever," Lana shrugged, dismissively. "He knows better than this. Clark's supposed to have him trained."
"He's fine where he is," Oliver told her, firmly.
"What about your car?" Lana asked. "That looks like expensive leather for your seats."
"They'll be fine," Oliver said. "Shelby's a good dog."
Lana shot him a disbelieving look. "Did you want something?" she finally asked.
"I wanted to talk to Clark," he said, resisting the urge to demand the same thing from her. "Is he around?"
"Clark's not here right now," Lana told him. "But, I'd be happy to tell him that you stopped by, if you want."
She shot him a bright, false smile, a clear dismissal, and Oliver had a sudden sympathy for Lois and Clark, if they'd been dealing with her.
"Actually, I think I'll wait for Clark, if you don't mind."
"I think Clark might-" Lana started, and Oliver cut her off with a predatory smile of his own.
"Clark doesn't mind me dropping over," he told her, and he walked off, leaving Lana sputtering in near-silent outrage behind him.
He'd almost reached the barn when he heard the sound of a motor behind him, and he turned around to see Lois's Jeep pulling into the driveway and slamming to a stop beside Clark's truck. Lois jumped out of the driver's seat with Clark following more slowly, presumably after he'd peeled his fingers off of the dashboard.
"You drive like a maniac," Clark told her, as he shut his door behind him.
"I do not," Lois argued.
"I'm going to have to agree with Clark on that one," Oliver called out, and Lois glared at him.
"Sure, take his side," she replied, sarcastically.
At the sound of her voice, Shelby jumped out of Oliver's car and raced across the driveway to jump on Lois's chest. Lois let out a huff of breath at the impact but ruffled the fur behind the dog's ears as he licked her chin.
"What was Shelby doing in your car?" Clark asked, as Oliver walked over to join them.
"He wouldn't listen," Lana informed him, and Clark's eyebrows flew up in shock as she walked over to the group.
"You came back," he said, his voice toneless.
"Did you really think that I wouldn't?" Lana asked him.
"Well, that DVD sure left that impression," Lois broke in, stepping slightly in front of Clark and fixing Lana with a cold stare.
"I'd like to speak to you," Lana told Clark, ignoring Lois and Oliver. "In private," she added, pointedly, and Lois smirked.
"I'm going to go unload the car," she told Clark, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before walking back across the driveway. "Ollie, you want to help me?"
"What was that?" he heard Lana hiss, furiously, and Lois's smirk grew bigger.
"So, what are you doing?" Oliver asked, curiously, as he helped Lois start to unload several boxes from the back of her Jeep.
"Moving in," Lois replied, as she slung a duffel bag over her shoulders and pulled a suitcase out of the backseat.
"Oh, really?" Oliver remarked, nonchalantly, and Lois fidgeted slightly under his direct gaze.
"Well, I can't keep living at the Talon with the happy couple," she said, defensively. "That apartment is crowded enough with two people, let alone two and a third wheel, so I figured I should start looking for my own place. And Clark offered to let me stay in his old room while I'm looking for a new place."
"There's more to it than that, isn't there?" Oliver asked, shrewdly.
"Clark and I started talking," Lois admitted, slowly, and Oliver perked up in interest. "He can't live on the farm, forever, and someday Mrs. Kent is going to retire from the Senate and she's going to want to move back to the farm, and we both work in Metropolis, which is such a long drive from Smallville, and so he's thinking about looking for his own place, too."
"And?" Oliver prompted, insistently, when Lois fell silent.
"And somehow looking for an apartment for me became looking for an apartment for us," Lois finished, in a rush.
"You and Clark are going apartment hunting, together," Oliver said, grinning.
"You make it sound like we're doing something wrong," Lois grumbled.
"Oh, no," Oliver said, hastily. "In fact, I wholeheartedly approve. I'm just wondering when you're going to take the next step."
"We're already talking about moving in together," Lois reminded him, but Oliver shook his head.
"You're moving in together," he repeated. "You're crazy in love with each other – yes, it's that obvious," he added, when Lois shot him a skeptical look. "You're going to tell me that happily ever after hasn't entered the conversation?"
"I don't think we're ready for happily ever after," Lois said, quietly, and Oliver sighed, heavily.
"Do we have to go over how perfect you two are for each other, again?" he asked, rhetorically. Lois just glared and shoved a box into his arms.
Then, their unloading was interrupted by Lana's shrill voice rising in anger, only for her to lower it down just as quickly. Oliver stopped what he was doing in time to see Clark scowl and say something abrupt in response to Lana stabbing her finger in Lois's direction. Then, Lana growled something under her breath and, stalked away in a huff, getting in her fancy, expensive car parked at the out edge of the driveway and peeling off in a cloud of dust.
"Well, that went well," Clark muttered, as Lois walked over to where he stood.
"What did she want?" Lois asked, looking up at Clark.
"She wanted a place to stay while she was in town on business," Clark answered. "I told her no. Told her I had all the houseguests I could handle."
"Are you calling me difficult?" Lois asked, arching an eyebrow.
Clark, in a move Oliver thought to be an incredibly intelligent decision, didn't answer. Instead, he bent down and kissed Lois, long and slow until Oliver was clearing his throat, loudly, to get them to knock it off.
"Nicely avoided," Lois teased, gently, as they parted.
XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX
Later that night, Lois and Clark found themselves at the Daily Planet, hunched over their respective desks, waiting on Detective Jones who insisted he had something they needed to see.
"Who was that?" Lois asked, as Clark snapped his cell phone shut and stowed it away in his pocket.
"John Jones," Clark told her. "He's got something he needs to look into and he's going to be running a little late."
"Has another cop been shot?" Lois asked, quietly, but Clark shrugged.
"He didn't say," he replied. "Just that he was going to be late."
"You don't think Jones is going after this cop killer by himself, do you?" Lois asked, a few minutes later as she looked up from her computer.
"I hope not," Clark said, fervently. "He's not invulnerable, anymore. He can get hurt just like any of those other cops."
He turned his attention back to the scattered notes he and Lois were trying to cobble together into a story, but after a few minutes, he dropped his stack of papers back onto his desk and stood up, shoving his chair back across the floor.
"I'm going to go look for him," he announced, and Lois nodded, unsurprised at his declaration.
She began pulling her coat on as she stepped away from her own desk, and Clark looked at her, skeptically.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"I'm coming with you," Lois told him.
"Lois," Clark started to protest, but she shook her head, cutting him off.
"Smallville, we could have this argument and waste valuable time that we could spend looking for Jones, and I'll still wind up coming with you, or we could skip all the fuss and just leave now."
Clark sighed, admitting defeat, and they headed up the elevator together to the roof. Lois went over to the edge, and then looked at Clark, who had hesitated with an uncertain look on his face.
"I just don't want you to get hurt," he tried again. "Lois, with that cop killer on the loose, you'd be safer here at the Planet."
"You've known me how long, now?" Lois asked, rhetorically. "What in our time together makes you think I'm going to stay here and play it safe?"
Clark just shook his head in exasperation as he swept Lois up into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and once she was secure, he pushed off the roof, floating up into the night sky.
"You know," Lois said conversationally as they flew, with Clark keeping an ear out for the sound of Jones's voice, "you should really think about a costume or something."
"Like what?" Clark asked, skeptically. "My very own Green Arrow get-up?"
"Maybe nothing that extreme," Lois told him. "Although, you looked good that last time you wore skintight leather."
Clark shot her an incredulous look and Lois pasted her most innocent smile on her face.
"Why can't I just keep going on like I have been?" he wanted to know.
"Do you really want to be known as the Red-Blue-Blur for the rest of your life?" Lois asked.
"So what do you suggest?" Clark asked, curiously.
"I don't know," Lois said, thoughtfully. "Give me some time to think about it."
"Am I going to regret this?" Clark asked, but then his attention was caught by the sound of a police siren in the street below.
Listening closer, he heard a faint, "Officer down, requesting backup," and with a vivid curse, dove for the ground, landing hard enough to put a pothole in the middle of the street. Lois jumped out of his arms and bolted over to where John lay slumped against the side of his car, blood staining the front of his shirt, turning the cream fabric a deep rust color.
Clark took a quick scan of the street but he couldn't see anyone running away from the scene of the crime. Likely, whoever had shot John was long gone by that point. He heard Lois's quiet murmur behind him, and when he turned around, she'd just clicked off the radio. Her jacket was bunched over the wound in John's chest, with her free hand applying pressure to stop the bleeding.
"I told the police that the Red-Blue-Blur was going to be taking Detective Jones to the hospital," she said, meeting his eyes, her calm tone tamping down the wild fear that had Clark's heart racing at the sight of his friend dying.
Clark nodded, still unable to say a word as he cradled John in his arms and stood, launching himself into the sky. He soared through the air as fast as he dared, all the while fearing that it wouldn't be fast enough, and soon he was landing at the hospital. Speeding inside, he placed John directly on the front desk, his badge resting in the middle of his chest, and sped back out the door, hearing the startled cries of the hospital staff behind him.
He landed back in the dark street where Lois was waiting, startling her as he landed, but she recovered quickly to give him a hard hug.
"He was covered in blood," Clark said, softly, his voice shaking as he buried his face in Lois's shoulder. "He was barely breathing when I got him to the hospital."
"Jones is going to be fine," Lois said, firmly, still holding him.
"I just-" Clark broke off, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "I just got you back, after – I don't think I could handle it if John died."
The wail of a siren cut off whatever Lois was going to say, and then a squad car pulled up beside them. A pair of uniformed officers climbed out, and the older man nodded to Lois with a curt, "Lane."
"Marks," Lois returned. "New partner?"
"Dan Turpin," the younger man introduced himself, holding out a hand which Clark shook. "You want to tell us what went down, here?"
"Not much to tell," Lois answered, squeezing Clark's hand, gently. "We were supposed to meet Detective Jones for a story we were working on, but when we got here, we found him on the ground, shot."
"You said that the Red-Blue-Blur was taking Jones to the hospital?" Marks asked, and Clark nodded.
"He heard Jones radio for help," he said, his voice rough. "He came down and said that he was taking him to Metropolis General."
"I'm wondering why he didn't get here faster," Turpin remarked, idly. "He's so fast cameras can't catch him, but he can't stop a good cop from being shot?"
"He can't be everywhere at once," Lois snapped, her words as much for Clark as for Turpin.
"Danny-boy's new to Metropolis," Marks spoke up, cutting off the fight he could sense brewing. "He's never seen the likes of the Red-Blue-Blur or Green Arrow, before." Turning to Turpin, he added, "It's a real kick in the pants, sometimes, to find our resident super-humans are just as human as the rest of us."
"Did you have any other questions, Officer?" Clark asked. "I'd like to go check on Detective Jones, if we're done here."
"We're done here," Marks said, sympathetically. "We'll call you, Lane, if we have any more questions."
Lois nodded, and she and Clark watched as Marks drove his car away, and Turpin drove Jones's. Then, wordlessly, Lois wound her arms around Clark's neck, jumping up into his arms as he flew up into the sky. They landed at the hospital after a few minutes, and Clark went immediately over to the nurses' station, rapping impatiently on the plexi-glass divider.
"Detective John Jones?" he asked, when the nurse looked up at him.
"Are you family?" she asked.
"Clark's his nephew," Lois lied smoothly, stepping up beside Clark and wrapping her hand around his arm.
"By marriage," Clark added, when the nurse raised a skeptical eyebrow in his direction.
"Detective Jones is still in surgery," the nurse told them, after a moment at her computer. "If you'd like to wait in the waiting area, the doctor will be out with you as soon as he can be."
"Thank you," Clark told the woman, and he and Lois went to the indicated area, sinking down in the hard plastic chairs.
For the next several hours they alternated between sitting and pacing, with Clark doing most of the latter. Clark called Oliver and the rest of the Justice League to fill them in on the situation, and Oliver made arrangements for a doctor he had on retainer to stop by the hospital and check on John. Around midnight, Lois went for a sandwich run down to the corner deli and by the time she came back, a doctor in surgical scrubs was sitting in the waiting area talking to Clark.
"-next forty-eight hours will be very critical," the doctor was saying, as Lois walked up, and Clark nodded, gravely.
"Can we see him?" he asked, quietly.
"For a few minutes," the doctor answered. "I will caution you, it may be hard for you to see your uncle in the condition he's in."
"He's alive," Lois stated. "That's all that's important, right now."
The doctor led them to a small, private room up on the third floor, and left them alone with John after again warning them about what they were going to see when they entered the room. Lois would never admit it out loud, but the doctor's cautionary words were starting to make her nervous and she'd never seen Clark look so scared, before. She would do anything to erase the chalky-white pallor of his skin.
John was lying in the large hospital bed with all sorts of tubes and wires hooked up to him and leading to a multitude of machines. He looked small and fragile, and beside her, Clark sucked in a sharp breath, his hand tightening over Lois's fingers.
After a moment, he left Lois's side to sink into the chair beside John's bed, curling his hand over the other man's, protectively.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, so quiet that Lois barely heard him. "I should have been there. You never should have gotten hurt."
"Even you can't be everywhere," Lois repeated her earlier words. "You can't save everyone."
"But I should have saved him!" Clark insisted. "John's not just some random stranger on the street, he was my father's closest friend. He's been there whenever I needed him.
"He's family," Lois stated.
Clark shot her a startled look, and Lois smiled at him.
"I've seen the two of you together often enough to see that he's the closest thing to a father you've had since your dad died," she said.
A light knock on the door drew their attention, and a young nurse poked her head into the room.
"Mr. and Mrs. Kent? I'm afraid your visiting time is over," she said, apologetically.
Clark would have expected Lois to correct the woman on the 'Mrs. Kent' issue, but Lois surprised him by not saying a word, just gathering her bloody jacket into her arms and waiting for Clark.
"I'm going to find who did this," Clark whispered, giving John's hand one last squeeze. "I promise."
As he and Lois were heading out of the hospital, Clark turned to Lois with a tight smile on his face.
"Well, Mrs. Kent, what should we do, now?"
"Oh, knock it off," Lois scolded him, elbowing him gently. "It's just easier to check on Detective Jones if the hospital thinks that I'm family, too."
"I think we should head to the Planet," Clark said, answering his own question. "If we hurry, we can just get this story into the morning edition."
"I'll call Marks and see if he and Turpin have any leads on the case," Lois said. Seeing the forlorn look on Clark's face, she added, "We're going to find this guy, and he's going to pay for what he did."
"Before he goes after another cop?" Clark asked, darkly.
XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX
Clark looked up, startled, as a cup of coffee landed on his desk in front of his computer, and he looked up to see Lois with her own cup in her hands.
"That's got to be, what, your fourth cup since we got here?" he teased, taking a healthy swallow from his cup.
"Fifth, but who's counting?" Lois responded, dropping down into her chair. "You know, I love my work, but somehow it never enters the equation when I think about pulling all-nighters with my boyfriend."
"We've been here all night?" Clark asked, surprised, as he looked over at the windows where sunlight was streaming in.
"Earth to Smallville," Lois said. "It's seven in the morning."
"We have been here all night," Clark said, and Lois rolled her eyes at him.
"Boy, you two look like crap," a new voice spoke up, and they looked up to see Ron Troupe standing nearby. "Big story?"
"That cop killer," Lois told him. "He went after a friend of ours last night."
"Oh, god, I'm so sorry," Troupe said, quickly. "Is he-"
"He's in the hospital," Clark finished. "They don't know if he's going to make it."
"I'm so sorry," Troupe repeated, and he stood in awkward silence until someone across the bullpen bellowed his name.
Clark turned back to his computer at a quiet beeping sound, and watched as a police-band alert flashed up on his monitor.
"I've got to go," he said, quickly, grabbing his duffel bag out from under his desk. "A couple of cops are calling for backup down in Suicide Slum."
Lois nodded and grabbed her recorder off her desk, earning a look from Clark.
"Do we really need to have this conversation over again?" she asked, before he could say anything. "One way or another, I'm going down there to get that story."
Clark sighed, heavily, and followed Lois out of the bullpen as she started walking briskly away.
"I'll drop you off a block away," he conceded with a grumble.
He and Lois darted up the stairs, with Clark making a quick stop at the phone booth in the corner to spin into his red and blue clothes. Outside, they ducked into a deserted side street and Clark scooped Lois up into his arms before shooting up into the air.
They landed at the source of the police commotion a minute later, and contrary to his earlier declaration, Clark left Lois on the street right near the police cruisers before flying up to either talk to or catch the jumper standing framed in a tenth-story window.
Right before Clark reached him, the man started to tip forward, arms wind-milling wildly, and Clark shot forward to catch him. But, before he could catch the man, he jerked backward like someone had grabbed him from behind, and Clark caught a flash of black zipping out of the room almost too fast for him to see.
Darting forward to grab the man and keep him from trying his jump a second time, Clark sped him down to the ground floor of the building and out onto the street, keeping an eye out for the black flash the whole time. He deposited the man at the feet of the police who were still staring up at the building in confusion, and then came to a stop beside Lois, who'd drifted to the back of the crowd.
"Nice catch," Lois told him, smiling, but Clark shook his head.
"I didn't do it," he insisted, and she looked at him in surprise. "I brought him downstairs, but there was someone else in the room who pulled him away from the window. Someone who's faster than me."
"Your friend, Bart?" Lois asked, in an undertone. "No," she added, a second later, answering her own question. "If it was Speedy Gonzales, he'd be down here bugging me."
"It wasn't Bart," Clark confirmed. "He'd have waited if he'd seen me."
"So, there's someone else in town who can run faster than the speed of sound?" Lois asked.
"Looks like I'm not the only hero in town," Clark told her.
XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX
The rest of the day, Clark spent alternating between being at the Daily Planet and being out on the streets, responding to emergencies. And for a majority of those emergencies, the mysterious black blur beat him to the scene, pulling unconscious victims out of an apartment fire, moving a stalled car off of the train tracks, apprehending a mugger down in Suicide Slum.
Each time Clark got to the scene, he was just in time enough to see the blur disappearing out of the corner of his eye; he had yet to be in time to actually see whoever it was.
"I feel like I'm being taunted," Clark grumbled into his cell phone, as he stopped at a local deli to grab himself and Lois some sandwiches for lunch.
"Maybe you're being challenged?" Lois suggested. "You know, 'This town's not big enough for two superheroes'."
"Then why not confront me directly?" Clark asked, confused. "Why would this person keep hiding if they are trying to challenge me?"
"Why hide at all?" Lois countered, rhetorically.
"And how are they beating me to practically every accident?" Clark ranted, changing topics. "Whoever this is, they're fast, but they can't be omniscient, can they?"
"Maybe they're tapped into the nine-one-one system like you are," Lois suggested.
"You just gave me a great idea," Clark told her.
"Just don't squash my sandwich," Lois said, and Clark heard the underlying 'be careful' in her voice.
"See you back at the Planet," Clark said, and then he clicked off his phone before dialing nine-one-one a few seconds later.
"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" the operator asked, as soon as the line connected.
"I'm down in Suicide Slum," Clark told the operator, even as he ran down to the area of the city in question. "Someone broke into my car and ripped my stereo out. They slashed my tires, my seats, my car's a mess."
"All right, sir," the operator said. "I'm going to send a patrol car out to your location. Please don't-"
The woman's voice cut off abruptly as the line went dead, and as Clark stared down at his phone in confusion, he heard a quiet voice say, "Sir, you've been robbed?"
He looked up in shock to see Lana staring at him, and she started in surprise when she recognized him.
"Clark, you tricked me," she said, her voice playfully accusing. "I wouldn't have expected that from you."
"You're the one who's been zipping around town," Clark said, slowly, measuring his words, carefully. "Mind telling me how you've been doing that?"
"That's my secret," Lana told him, suddenly serious, and Clark wondered if she was struck by the irony of all the times she'd accused him of keeping secrets from her.
"Lana, why did you come back here?" Clark asked her, but there was no time to answer when the sound of police sirens filled the air.
Grabbing Lana's arm, Clark pushed off the ground, launching them into the air and landing on the roof of a nearby building. He looked down at the arriving patrol car and watched as a pair of officers got out and prowled around the alleyway.
"You're the one who broke off the call with nine-one-one," Clark said, turning back to Lana. "Lois was right; you have been monitoring the system."
"Well, it's not like anyone needed the police once I was there," Lana bragged, with no small amount of arrogance in her voice.
"And what if the situation had been something you couldn't handle?" Clark demanded. "People could have gotten hurt, Lana."
"Everything went fine," Lana said, dismissively. "I'm invulnerable, Clark. I can't get hurt."
"And what about the people you were rescuing?" Clark countered. "They could have been hurt."
Lana just rolled her eyes at him, and Clark felt a surge of anger at her attitude.
"Why did you come back here?" he asked, repeating his earlier question. "There's nothing left for you in Smallville."
"There's you," Lana told him, and Clark's eyes widened in surprise.
"Excuse me?" he said, faintly, and Lana smiled at him.
"Clark, I've never stopped loving you," she said.
"Funny, but I didn't really get that impression seven months ago," Clark said, sarcastically.
"This is our chance, Clark; we can finally be together," Lana wheedled, tears coming to her eyes when Clark shook his head.
"We're over, Lana," he told her, firmly. "We've been over since the day you walked out, leaving me with nothing more than a DVD."
"I told you why I had to do that!" Lana told him, angrily, as she swiped at the tears in her eyes. "Back when we were talking on the farm, I explained everything to you."
"Yeah," Clark said, flatly. "Lex made you break up with me."
"I didn't have a choice," Lana continued, coming closer and placing a hand on his arm. "Lex said that he'd hurt you if I didn't do what he wanted."
Clark shook his head, tearing out of Lana's grasp to pace across the length of the rooftop.
"Lex is gone, now," Lana told him, earnestly. "Clark, we finally have a chance to have the life we've always wanted."
"Lana, I'm with Lois, now, and I'm happier than I've ever been," Clark said. "I've found the life I've always been looking for."
"Lois," Lana repeated, spitting out the other woman's name like it was a bad word. "What does Lois have that I don't?"
"Lana, this isn't a competition," Clark snapped. "I love Lois. That's all you need to know."
"There's nothing I can say to change your mind?" Lana asked, and Clark shook his head.
"We're over," he repeated, firmly.
"Well, if you and Lois really are such a happy couple, then I guess there's no reason for me to stick around here, is there?" Lana remarked, and Clark frowned, slightly, at the suspicious tone in her voice.
"If you're going to stay around town, I'm going to be keeping an eye on you," he said, giving her a hard look. "Otherwise, I hope you have a good life, Lana."
He launched himself into the air, leaving her behind to be nothing more than a speck on the rooftop. When he heard a siren in the distance, he headed toward the sound, putting all thoughts of Lana completely out of his head.
Nearly fifteen minutes later, he walked into the bullpen and over to his desk, dropping Lois's sandwich on her desk as he passed her. Lois grunted out a wordless thanks, grabbing the sandwich and taking a huge bite, following it up with a gulp of what was probably cold and bitter coffee.
"I found out who's been speeding around Metropolis," Clark said, as he sat down heavily in his chair.
"Oh, yeah?" Lois asked, looking up from her computer screen. "So, who's your competition in the hero department?"
"It's Lana," Clark told her, still trying to work out the implications of Lana with superpowers.
"Lana who?" Lois asked, automatically, even as she already knew the answer.
"Lana Lang," Clark said.
"But, how?" Lois asked, confused.
"I don't know!" Clark cried, frustrated. "She's catching bullets bare-handed and I can't figure out how she's doing it."
"A meteor infection?" Lois hazarded a guess, but Clark shook his head.
"One that shows up after she's left Smallville and all of the meteors?" he asked, keeping his voice down so that their coworkers wouldn't hear him.
"Maybe she's been possessed?" Lois suggested.
"Again?" Clark muttered, sarcastically, and Lois swallowed the laugh that threatened to escape.
"When I was talking to Lana," Clark continued, changing the subject, "I didn't see even a hint of the girl I'd fallen in love with."
"People change," Lois told him, shrugging.
"This wasn't just a sudden thing," Clark said, sounding suddenly tired. "She's been like this for a while, now. I just started seeing it, now."
"You were in love," Lois reminded him. "Even after Lana started changing, you were still in love with the girl she'd been. There's a reason they say love is blind, you know."
Clark started to say something, but broke off abruptly, head cocked to the side as he listened to something only he could hear.
"Sirens," he said, absently, and a moment later, an alert popped up on his computer screen.
"What is this, the criminals having a field day?" Lois demanded.
"They've gotten cockier since that cop killer started taking out cops in broad daylight," Clark said, darkly.
"You be careful," Lois told him, as he stood up to leave. "We don't know what kind of ammo this guy has, and I don't want to lose you."
"I'll be fine," Clark assured her, bending down to brush a soft kiss against her cheek.
Then he dashed out of the bullpen, leaving a gust of wind in his wake that had people throughout the room grabbing for papers as they flew off desks.
XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX
Clark had barely been gone fifteen minutes when Lois's phone rang, loudly, and she snatched it up with a quick, "Lois Lane."
"Ms. Lane?" The speaker on the other end was a man with a nervous tremor in his voice.
"Can I help you?" Lois prompted, when the man didn't seem inclined to say anything further.
"I need to meet with you," the man told her, quickly, sounding like he was whispering. "My name is Dr. Merrick Walters, and I have information on how Detective John Jones was shot."
Lois listened to the man in fascination for several minutes, and then hung up abruptly, grabbing her coat and sprinting out to her car. On the way, she pulled her cell phone out and dialed Clark's number.
"You've reached Clark Kent. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."
"Hey, Smallville, it's me," Lois said, after Clark's cell phone beeped. "I got an interesting phone call from a Dr. Merrick Walters. He says he works for LexLabs, and he wants to talk to us about some project called Prometheus. He says it's important, and that it's about John. He wants to meet us at the old warehouse district, so I'm headed over there, now."
Clicking off her phone, Lois stowed it away in her purse and got into her car, starting the engine. She pulled out into traffic and started down the street, only to be stopped cold at a traffic jam twenty minutes into her trip.
"Come on," Lois complained, laying on her horn, impatiently. "Get a move on!"
A knock on her window startled her, and she looked over to see Clark standing outside the car, waiting patiently to be let in. Lois hit the unlock button and Clark climbed into the passenger seat, his red and blue get-up changed for the charcoal-gray suit that he'd worn to work last night.
"You called and said we had a meeting?" Clark asked.
"I kind of thought you'd meet me there," Lois told him.
"Where's the fun in that?" Clark teased. "So, where are we going?"
"According to this Walters guy, he's got information on why John was shot," Lois told him.
"Yeah, you said that in your message," Clark said.
"He didn't give me much else to go on," Lois replied. "I think he's afraid of his bosses catching him squealing on them."
"If that's what he's doing," Clark said.
"What else could it be?" Lois asked. "The guy wants to meet us in secret in the old warehouse district; chances are he's trying to hide something from somebody."
Traffic started moving again, then, and Lois turned her attention back to driving. Nearly fifteen minutes later, they reached their destination, and Clark got out of the car, looking around cautiously as Lois locked her doors.
"Where's this guy supposed to be?" Clark asked.
"Thirty-one eighty-six," Lois said, referencing the building number she'd written on a scrap of paper.
"Down this way," Clark said, checking out the numbers of some nearby buildings.
They reached the building in question, and found an older man pacing nervously outside, biting his nails and looking at his watch every few seconds.
"Dr. Walters?" Lois questioned, and the man jerked in surprise, staring at Lois with wide, shocked eyes.
"I'm Clark Kent, this is Lois Lane," Clark introduced them to the man. "You called my partner about Detective Jones's shooting?"
"Right, right," the man muttered. "Everything's in here."
He hauled at the heavy door, struggling until Clark stepped up and pulled the door open, smoothly, sunlight highlighting the dark interior of the building. Clark and Lois followed Walters into the building, and the man flicked on a light switch, the bright fluorescent lighting chasing away the rest of the shadows.
"This," Walters said, gesturing, "is Project Prometheus. Mr. Luthor commissioned the project after the failure of Project Ares. It was less ambitious than its precursor."
Clark stared at the computer screens that lined the walls but he couldn't comprehend what he was looking at. Beside him, though, Lois had perked up in interest.
"These are specs for military armor," she said, and Walters nodded in confirmation.
"Standard-issue body armor that's been augmented for use by civilian police," he said, a note of pride in his voice. "We coated the armor with an ultra-light, ultra-strong micro-fiber film. It stiffens upon impact, even with high-velocity projectiles, and spreads the force of the impact over the wearer's body. Most of it was my work."
"So, it's a Kevlar body suit," Clark hazarded a guess, and Walters scowled at what he obviously considered to be a gross simplification.
"If you must put it that way, then yes," Walters said, annoyance creeping into his tone. "It was an offshoot of Project Aries, taking off where Aries failed."
"This was some sort of government project?" Lois asked, but Walters shook his head.
"It was funded by the city," Walters told her. "The cop that was shot, Detective Jones? His precinct was supposed to receive Prometheus armor all their officers."
"Then how did he get shot?" Clark demanded.
Walters opened his mouth to answer, but Lois beat him to the punch.
"Sabotage," she stated, and this time Walters' glare was directed at her. "Someone tampered with the Prometheus armor."
"But, who would do that?" Clark asked, genuinely confused. "Who would want to destroy the safety of the Metropolis police force?"
"I don't think it was deliberate," Walters spoke up, drawing their attention back to him. "I think the damage to the Prometheus armor was an accident."
"How do you accidentally sabotage a project of this magnitude?" Lois asked, skepticism plain in her voice.
"Right in the middle of the developing the Prometheus armor," Walters explained, "I was approached by Mr. Luthor, himself, and asked to devote my time and energy to a new project. An offshoot of Project Prometheus, a highly-experimental suit called Prometheus II."
"This suit," Lois said, slowly, "did it give whoever wore it supernatural abilities?"
"Yes," Walters said, looking puzzled as to how she'd made that leap. "Part of the suit's makeup included a neural interface with the wearer, and we used nanotechnology to improve the subject's reflexes, perceptions, and senses. It heightened abilities the wearer already had."
"Makes sense," Clark said, thoughtfully. "You can't make people fly, but you can make them run faster than they're capable of without the suit."
"Exactly," Walters agreed.
"So, whoever stole the suit wouldn't have wanted anyone else to be able to copy it," Lois mused, and Clark turned to her, catching her train of thought.
"They'd want to destroy the plans," he said, nodding. "Probably destroyed everything that said Prometheus on it, instead of looking for what they needed."
"And when they realized what they'd done," Lois started.
"They tried to fix their mistake with the Prometheus research," Clark finished. "Sabotaging it in the process."
"How long ago was the suit stolen?" Clark asked, whirling on Walters who was staring at their back-and-forth in disbelief.
"Less than a week ago," Walters answered. "Right before we made the final modifications to the Prometheus armor and shipped it out to the precincts."
"Without checking any of your specs, I'll bet," Lois remarked, and Walters nodded.
"I pulled the suits as soon as I realized what had happened," he said. "But that doesn't undo the fact that a good cop got shot."
"Why didn't you come forward when Prometheus II was stolen?" Clark asked. "Why wait until the day after your faulty armor nearly got a man killed?"
"Ms. Mercer put out a gag order when she realized that Prometheus II was missing," Walters explained. "She said that it was an in-house matter, and she wanted to track down the thief, herself."
"Thank you," Lois said, putting a hand on Clark's arm and gently pulling him toward the door. "We'll be sure to get this story out to the public."
"No, thank you," Walters said, fervently as they were leaving. "I didn't want that man's blood on my conscience without someone knowing about it."
"He could have stopped it," Clark vented, as they walked back to Lois's car. "If he'd just come forward when the suit was stolen-"
"Maybe it would have helped, and maybe it wouldn't have," Lois answered. "We can't deal with what ifs, Clark. We have to deal with what is."
They'd just reached Lois's car when Clark stopped and cocked his head to the side, listening intently.
"What is it?" Lois asked. "What do you hear?"
"Someone's calling for police backup," Clark said, absently, still focused on the sound. "I've got to-"
"Go," Lois finished for him, giving him an encouraging shove.
Clark felt himself move and looked down to realize that he'd unconsciously floated about a foot into the air.
"I'll meet you back at the Planet," Clark told Lois, who suddenly tugged him down to her level and kissed him, hard.
"Love you," she said, when they separated. "Be careful."
"I will," Clark promised. "I love you, too."
And then he shot up into the sky, heading toward the voices he'd heard.
He landed in the alley where the cry for help had come from and saw Detective Marks crouched protectively in front of his partner, who was unconscious and lying against the wall of a building. Clark was about to speed in, grab Turpin, and speed back out when he heard the crack of a gunshot and realized that Marks had his own gun out and was pointing it up at the building across the street where the shots had come from.
Focusing, Clark could see a man standing in a window in one of the upper stories, his gun trained unerringly on Marks's chest. The shooter pulled the trigger and Clark stepped in front of Marks, snatching the bullet out of thin air.
Marks gaped at him in shock for a second, and Clark waited anxiously for the hammer to fall, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. Marks looked him over, taking in the red and blue he was wearing, and then he shifted and was all business in a heartbeat.
"I can't see this guy," he said, angrily. "He's hiding somewhere up in that building, and I can't get him in my sights."
"I know where he is," Clark answered, twitching his shoulder as he felt a bullet bounce off his back.
"Can you get him?" Marks demanded. "Without getting shot, I mean, 'cause Lane will have my head on a platter if you get hurt because of me."
"I can get him," Clark said, feeling another bullet strike his hip.
Whirling around, he sped across the alley and though the open window the shooter was leaning out of. He grabbed the man around the waist and shoved him back away from the window, yanking the rifle out of his hands.
Rapping the man on the back of the head and catching him as he fell, Clark pulled the man's arms around behind his back and twisted the rifle into a pretzel shape around his wrists. Clark flew the unconscious man back out of the window where he deposited him and Marks's feet before turning his attention to Turpin, who was also still unconscious.
"It looks worse than it really is," Marks told him, as he lifted the injured man into his arms. "Rookie caught the bullet in his shoulder and then fell backward and hit his head on the wall."
"I'm going to take him to Metropolis General," Clark told him. "Will you call his family?"
"Yeah, sure," Marks agreed. "Hey," he added, stopping Clark before he could fly away. "You're buddies with that Green Arrow, right?"
"Yeah," Clark answered, hesitantly, wondering what he was getting at.
"Can you tell him to go easy on our guys with those arrows of his?" Marks asked. "We've got one guy at the station who's been in physical therapy for four months because he took one in the shoulder."
"I'll tell him," Clark said.
"And, hey," Marks said, quickly. "Your secret's safe with me."
Clark nodded in understanding, touched by the other man's willingness to trust him on little more than a few rescues and Lois's words. He dropped Turpin off at the hospital, smiling slightly at the sight of an empty gurney with a handwritten sign stating 'Reserved for Red-Blue-Blur' in bold letters.
'Guess they didn't like me leaving John on the counter,' Clark thought, wryly.
Coming in, he was too fast to see, but someone must have been watching the gurney because as soon as he left Turpin, a voice called out, "Wait! Mr. Blur!"
Clark just kept going, not willing to test his luck or people's willingness to keep a secret twice in one day. He was in the air and well on his way back to the Daily Planet when he heard a scream in the distance. His heart almost stopped when he realized that it was Lois.
XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX
Lois had just sat down at her desk, cup of coffee in her hand, when the world jerked under her feet. Everything went blurry for a couple of seconds, and when she could see clearly again, she almost wished she couldn't. Lois screwed her eyes tightly shut against the vertigo-inducing sight of an upside-down sky, and tried to ignore the intense sensation of nausea that was caused by her swaying.
When she finally felt steady again, and was reasonably sure she wasn't going to get sick, Lois slowly opened her eyes. She found herself suspended in midair on the roof of the Daily Planet, this discovered after she craned her head painfully around to see the familiar globe over her shoulder. She also saw Lana standing behind her, and realized, with a sinking feeling, that the uncomfortable pressure on her ankle was the other woman's grip – and the only thing holding her back from plunging to her death.
The thought that her life was literally hanging in Lana's hands was enough to make her feel cold inside.
"Did you want something, Lana?" Lois called out, ignoring the way her voice threatened to tremble.
"You're going to break things off with Clark," Lana informed her.
"I don't think so," Lois shot back, angrily.
Lana gave her a hard jerk, snapping Lois's body around like a dog with a toy, and Lois gritted her teeth against the wave of pain caused by something fracturing.
"You really think that hurting me is going to win Clark back for you?" she forced out, hoarsely.
"If you're not here, he'll have no choice but to come back to me," Lana said, smugly.
"You're insane, you know that?" Lois muttered, not caring if the other woman heard her or not.
She knew that Lana would more than likely drop her, even without Lois giving her a reason, and in the Prometheus suit, Lois had no chance of fighting back. Especially given her current precarious position.
"I love Clark," Lana snapped at her. "He belongs with me."
"He doesn't want to be with you," Lois told her.
"He will when you're gone," Lana said, and then the pressure on Lois's ankle suddenly disappeared as she let go.
Lois had time for a short scream before the wind whipped the breath right out of her body. She tried to twist around in midair and grab at the side of the building as she fell, trying to catch herself on something but she only succeeding in ripping her hands on the building, and couldn't keep a grip on anything.
Lois had screwed her eyes shut in anticipation of her impact with the ground when she hit something that didn't feel like concrete. Then, a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around her, and Clark's voice murmured over and over into her ear, "I've got you, I've got you, I've got you."
"Who's got you?" Lois joked, weakly, wrapping her arms around his neck and opening her eyes to look up into his worried face.
"Don't ever do that again," Clark said, softly, dropping his forehead to rest against hers.
"I wasn't planning on doing it this time," Lois responded. "Nice catch, by the way."
They'd been flying upward the entire time they'd been talking, and Clark set them on the roof, catching Lois when she swayed and shifted her weight to her good leg. Lana stared at them in shock and then gaped, wordlessly, at Clark, who glared at her furiously.
"Clark, I can explain everything," Lana said, quietly, when he didn't say anything.
"Explain," Clark repeated, incredulously. "Lana, you just tried to kill Lois. You stole Luthorcorp technology. How could you possibly explain this?"
"I did this for you," Lana insisted, and Clark's eyes flew wide.
"What could make you think-" he started, and then trailed off, too angry to continue speaking.
"We know what you did to the Prometheus armor," Lois spoke up, and Lana turned her glare on her. Lois stared back, implacably, unafraid. "You stole the experimental suit and then destroyed years of research so that no one would catch you."
"You can't prove anything," Lana informed her, smugly. "I didn't leave any fingerprints, and you'll never catch me-"
She broke off, suddenly, whirling around to confront Clark when he tried to sneak behind her.
"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, her voice dangerous.
"You need to stop this, Lana," Clark said, firmly. "Before someone else gets hurt."
"I know what I'm doing," Lana said, coldly. "I'm making the world a better place"
"You wrecked years of research and put a man in the hospital," Lois said, incredulously. "How in the world is that better?"
"Clark, you and I are equals, now," Lana continued, ignoring Lois. "We can finally be together the way we were meant to be."
"Lana, we were never meant to be anything," Clark said, and Lana smirked at him.
"You're wrong," she said, confidently. "I'll prove to you that you're wrong."
She disappeared before Lois could even blink, and Clark made to run after her, only to lunge suddenly, grabbing a piece of concrete that had been flying toward Lois's head.
"I knew you'd do that," Lana's voice floated back to them. "You're so predictable, Clark."
Lois stared at the piece of concrete in Clark's hands and then sat down abruptly on the roof, her legs shaking. Clark, for his part, put the concrete down on the roof, and sat down beside Lois, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"That was too close," he said, quietly. "It came within an inch of your head."
"You caught it," Lois reassured him.
"I almost didn't," Clark said, and his voice was shaking as much as Lois's legs.
"You did," Lois said, firmly, trying to quell the tremors in her own voice. "Are you going to go after Lana?"
"She's halfway to Venezuela by now," Clark said, shaking his head.
"How do you know she's going to Venezuela?" Lois asked.
"Oliver said there were rumors of Lex turning up there," Clark told her. "She's been obsessed with him for so long, and now she wants to prove that we can be together-"
"You're not worried about Lex being confronted by SuperLana?" Lois asked, and Clark laughed.
"I think Lex is going to be just fine," Clark said. "It's Lana who should be worried."
Standing, he reached out and pulled Lois to her feet. "Come on. We should get back to work."
XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX
"-were you thinking, going after that guy without backup?"
Clark froze at the sound of Lois's voice and hovered outside the doorway, listening. Lois had left him a message telling him that the hospital had called her and told her that John was awake, and she'd apparently beaten him down to the hospital. And was laying into the older man with the riot act in his absence.
"I was thinking of doing my job," John answered, and Clark was relieved when he didn't hear any strain in the older man's voice. "If this is about missing our appointment-"
"If that's what you think I'm mad about, then you really are stupid," Lois growled, and Clark could just imagine the furious look on her face. "This is about what you did to Clark."
"Kal-el," John started, sounding as confused as Clark felt, but Lois cut him off.
"Clark was worried sick about you," Lois informed him, shortly. "The last time I saw him that shaken up was when Jonathon died."
"I didn't know," John said quietly, sounding shocked by the revelation.
"Like it or not, you're Clark's family," Lois told him. "He cares about you."
"Eavesdropping?" came a voice from behind Clark, and Clark jerked in surprise, turning around to see Oliver standing behind him.
"Don't you know it's not nice to listen in on other people's conversations?" Oliver continued, ignoring the glare that Clark was shooting his way.
"Do you mind?" Clark started, but then he trailed off when Lois appeared in the doorway.
"I've got to get back to the Planet," she told him, giving him no indication of whether or not she'd heard him at the doorway. "I'll see you later."
"I'll be home tonight, for sure," Clark promised, giving her a kiss and watching her walk down the aisle, her cane clicking softly on the tiled floor.
"Home, huh?" Oliver teased, and Clark rolled his eyes.
"Knock it off," he said in exasperation as they went into the room. "Lois already told me about your plan to get us walking down the aisle."
"There's no plan," Oliver protested. "Just subtle nudges now and then."
"You're anything but subtle," Clark informed him, and then noticed John watching them, clearly amused.
"You two," he said, shaking his head in exasperation, but maddeningly he refused to elaborate on his comment.
"I talked to Dr. Hamilton," Oliver said, as they stopped by John's bed. "He says you're going to have to go through some physical therapy before you're one hundred percent, again."
"You're lucky those bullets hit where they did," Clark said, seriously. "Any higher or lower, and we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"One where I am reminded of my limitations?" John asked, with a wry twist of his lips. "It seems to be my day for that kind of conversation."
"Sounded more like a steamrolling from Lois," Oliver remarked, idly, and Clark stepped lightly on his foot to get him to shut up.
"I didn't call for backup because I let my pride get in the way," John admitted, ignoring Oliver's smirk. "A mistake I will not make again."
"It's too easy to get used to being bulletproof," Clark agreed.
"Speak for yourself," Oliver grumbled.
"You could always adapt one of Dr. Walters's suits as your new Green Arrow costume," Clark commented, and Oliver shook his head.
"I think I'll stick to the look I've already got," he replied.
"Were you able to find out why the suit I was using failed?" John asked, and Clark nodded, sighing heavily.
"The design for the suit was sabotaged," he said.
"And the saboteur?" John asked.
"She's gone," Clark told him. "I don't think we're going to have to worry about her, again."
After a few more minutes of small talk, Clark pinned John with a somber look.
"Please don't ever do that again," he said, quietly. "I don't like seeing my friends get shot."
"I did not mean to get hurt in the first place," John replied, and Clark was reminded of similar conversations with Lois. "But, I will be more careful in the future. As you said, I'm no longer invulnerable to harm."
"I've got some ideas about that," Oliver spoke up, and Clark slipped out of the room when the other two started talking about Dr. Hamilton's research.
He was going down the hall toward the elevators when he heard his name being called, and he poked his head into one of the rooms to see Turpin pulling a jacket on over his uninjured shoulder.
"Marks says I've got your friend the Blur to thank for saving my life," Turpin said, without preamble. "We got pinned down by that nut job, and apparently the Blur saved both our butts."
"Um," Clark said, not sure how he was supposed to respond.
"Anyway," Turpin continued, not noticing Clark's hesitance, "you and Lane seem to know the guy, so if you see him, could you tell him thanks for me?"
"Sure," Clark agreed. "How are you feeling?" he asked, after a minute. "How's your shoulder doing?"
"Not too bad," Turpin said. "They're springing me, today, but I'm stuck on desk duty for a couple of months until I get through physical therapy. I'm not too happy about it, but Michelle will be pleased."
"Your wife?" Clark guessed, seeing the gold band on the other man's left hand.
"She worries about me every time I leave the house," Turpin said. "Says it scares her thinking that I might never come home."
"How can you-" Clark started to ask, but then trailed off, unsure of how to phrase his question tactfully.
"How can I go to work every day, knowing that I might leave my family behind?" Turpin guessed, and Clark nodded, relieved that the man didn't seem offended by the question.
"They're the most important people in the world to me," Turpin said, after thinking his answer over for a few moments. "My wife and my son are everything to me, and I want to do everything I can to protect them. They're what makes everything worth it."
"I know what you mean," Clark said, with a smile, but then he trailed off at the sound of someone at the doorway.
He and Turpin looked toward the door to see a woman and a young boy standing in the doorway, and then the boy ran into the room and wrapped his arms around Turpin with a delighted cry of, "Dad!"
"Hey, Davey," Turpin said, hugging his son, gently. "Clark," he said, "this is my wife, Michelle, and my son, David."
"Pleasure to meet you," Clark said, shaking hands with Michelle. "Who are you supposed to be?" he asked, looking down at the boy and seeing him dressed in blue sweats with a red cape and a mask.
"I'm the Red-Blue Blur," David announced, proudly.
"His new favorite superhero," Turpin said, with a fond smile. "Last week he was the Green Arrow."
"The Red-Blue Blur is everyone's favorite hero around our house," Michelle said.
"But not more than Dad," David declared, loyally. "I'm gonna be just like Dad when I grow up."
"Are you ready to go, honey?" Michelle asked, looking up at Turpin.
"Yeah," Turpin replied. "Just give me a minute with Clark, all right?"
Michelle nodded, leading David out of the room, and Turpin watched them go with an affectionate smile on his face.
"You're a lucky man," Clark said, and Turpin nodded in agreement.
"Kent," Turpin said, his voice serious. "I read your article about the theft of that body armor."
"Yeah?" Clark asked.
"Jones was wearing that armor when he got shot," Turpin continued, and Clark shook his head, knowing what the other man was getting at.
"If you go after that person," he said, quietly, "when they're no longer a problem, then how does that make you any better than the criminals you send to prison?"
"How is it any different than what the Red-Blue Blur or the Green Arrow does?" Turpin countered.
"Because they're not going after criminals out of revenge," Clark told him. "You don't either, do you?"
"A good cop got shot because of that thief," Turpin protested.
"And that person is paying for it," Clark said, firmly. "What would you do, if some victim's family member came to you demanding the name of someone you arrested?"
"I'd tell them to go home and leave matters to the people who could handle it," Turpin admitted, reluctantly.
"Exactly," Clark replied, and Turpin sighed at him.
"Jones is a friend of yours," he said. "How can you be so rational about this?"
"Because," Clark started, and then he stopped as he had to think about the question. "Because he wouldn't want me to go after someone in revenge. He wouldn't want that for his sake."
"You're a good man, Kent," Turpin told him.
"I try to be," Clark replied.
"So do I," Turpin said. "It helps having my family around. It reminds me why I want to be a good person."
"What about you?" he asked, as he and Clark headed for the door. "Do you have someone in your life who makes everything worth it?"
Before Clark could answer, his cell phone shrilled and he pulled it out of his pocket to see Lois's picture on the screen.
"Yeah," he said, softly. "Yeah, I do."