Strange Relationships
by Nan Smith <hachiban@earthlink.net
Rated: PG
Submitted: June 2000



This is the sequel to "A Night at the Office". As was pointed
out to me in an e-mail, "Night" was only half a revelation, and
given that it came at a fairly crucial point in the Lois and
Clark saga, what came next was important, too.

As always, the familiar characters and settings in the story are
the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros., December 3rd
Productions, etc. and no infringement of their copyright is
intended. The situations borrowed from the episodes "Barbarians
at the Planet" and "House of Luthor" are credited to the writers
of the show. The story, however, is mine.



At three o'clock in the morning, Harry's All Nite Diner rarely
had many customers and tonight was no different. Except for the
few regulars who worked odd hours in nearby areas, the little
establishment was nearly deserted.

The one exception to the rule was the couple seated in a booth
at the farthest corner of the room. The man wore jeans and a
T-shirt, which showed a truly impressive set of shoulders. His
dark, slightly wavy hair had been raked back carelessly with his
fingers and one heavy lock fell across his forehead, giving him
a somewhat piratical appearance. Yellow light from the ceiling
fixture glinted from the lenses of a pair of horn-rimmed
glasses.

The woman, in contrast, was dressed in evening wear, but her
hair was mussed, her makeup slightly smeared as if it had been
some hours since she had availed herself of the opportunity to
look in the mirror. Both were drinking coffee and Millie, the
lone waitress, had just delivered an order to the surprised cook
for two extra-large breakfast specials.

Lois Lane relaxed back on the padded bench and for the first
time in several hours felt the tension begin to leach from her
body and mind. Clark sat across from her, both hands wrapped
around his coffee cup, staring into the liquid. He almost looked
as if he was half-asleep, but then he sat back and smiled at
her.

She smiled back, until the smile turned into a small yawn, which
she covered with the back of her hand. "Sorry."

"That's okay." He glanced at his watch. "In two hours I'll have
been up a full twenty-four."

"Me too." She took a long swallow of coffee. "I plan on sleeping
until noon, at least, when I get home, so I figured I'd better
have breakfast first."

He nodded. Lois sipped her coffee again, watching him. It was an
almost dreamlike feeling sitting here in the little diner with
Clark at such an early--or late--hour, she reflected.

He looked up and met her eyes. "What?"

"Nothing much," she said. "I was just thinking, you're my
partner, and really my best friend, and I don't know that much
about you. You probably saved a lot of lives tonight when you
grabbed that bomb, and I don't even know what kind of music you
like, what your favorite color is, what you like to read, or
much of anything, really. All I know about you is what you're
like to work with. I've never taken the time to get to know you
better, and now I wish I had."

Clark smiled a little. "My favorite color is blue, I like all
kinds of music and I read just about anything. What else?"

"Not that way. I found out tonight there was a lot more to you
than I thought. You're kind of a surprising guy, you know?
You're from a Kansas farm, but you prefer to live in one of the
biggest cities in the world. You're a nice, trusting person, yet
you're a successful investigative reporter who's traveled the
whole planet." She smiled. "And you're a lot smarter than I gave
you credit for in the beginning."

"Thanks...I think," he said.

"It was a compliment," she said. "I've gotten so I trust your
judgement. That's why I wanted to ask you a question."

"What kind of question?"

She hesitated for an instant, inhaled deeply and took the
plunge. "You've never liked Lex, have you?"

His expression became slightly wary. "Do you want the truth?"

"Yes, I do."

"All right. No."

"You don't trust him, either. I want to know why."

He looked down at his coffee. "Lois--"

"No, really. I know you wouldn't feel that way without a reason.
You're not that kind of person. It's not just jealousy, is it?"

He looked up at her, and his expression startled her. She had
never before considered the possibility that Clark Kent could
have emotions as strong as the ones that warred on his face at
that moment. If she'd ever wondered about the strength of his
feelings for her, that one look would have killed any doubts
stone dead. She'd known he had a crush on her; she'd chosen to
ignore it, but now it gave her a strange feeling in the pit of
her stomach at the realization that the man from Krypton, the
most powerful being on the planet, wanted her so intensely.

Then the look was shuttered. He said mildly, "No, it's not
jealousy, although I admit I am jealous of him, Lois--for having
something I would give almost anything to have, myself. But, no,
that's not why I don't trust him."

"Will you tell me why, then?"

He closed his lips together for an instant. "The problem is, I
know certain things about him--things that scare the hell out of
me when I see you with him. But I can't prove any of it--none!
The hard evidence has all been destroyed. The rest is
just--things I saw, or heard, which made sense in context with
what I already knew. But there's no proof."

"Why don't you tell me, anyway? I can make up my own mind, you
know."

"You won't like it," he warned her.

"Tell me, anyway." She set down her cup. "I'm a big girl. I
don't need to be protected from the truth--and I know you'll
tell me the truth."

He nodded. "The truth, then." He glanced sideways as the
waitress arrived, a tray balanced on one hand. They waited in
silence as she set their plates in front of them, made sure
their coffee cups were filled, and left them to their own
devices.

Clark put his napkin into his lap. "You want the worst?"

"Everything."

"All right." He picked up a slice of toast and spread it
liberally with butter and jelly. That figured, Lois thought. No
wonder he could eat like an eight-year-old and look like Mr.
Hardbody, as she'd once told him. Superman ate bombs, for
heaven's sake!

At the thought, the vision of her first meeting with Superman
rose in her mind, how he had swallowed the detonator of that
bomb in the Messenger rocket and saved her life. It had been
Clark who had done that--the man who was casually sitting across
the table from her, buttering his toast.

"Well," he began, "do you remember the Messenger incident, and
Space Station Prometheus? Luthor was behind the attempt to
destroy it. Antoinette Baines was his partner. Together, they
were responsible for the deaths of Commander Lattimer and Dr.
Platt. He was almost certainly behind the death of Dr. Baines as
well."

"Do you know that for a fact?"

"Some of it. The rest is a guess based on the evidence that no
longer exists."

Lois nodded. She could feel the blood draining from her face at
the realization of what he was telling her. "Is there anything
else?"

He took a bite of toast, chewed and swallowed. "Plenty. Are you
sure you want to hear this? It's not very pleasant."

She nodded. "I want to know what you know about him."

He shrugged. "All right. Do you remember the 'tests' someone
subjected Superman to shortly after he arrived in Metropolis?
Luthor was that someone. He almost succeeded in driving Superman
away by threatening the lives of innocent people."

"You know this?"

"Luthor essentially admitted it to Superman, but hearsay isn't
evidence." Clark took a mouthful of scrambled eggs while she
thought that one over.

"I see," she said. "Anything else?"

"Do you want a list?" he asked, quietly. "He was behind the
Mentamide 5 formula, too, Lois, and the experiments on the kids.
And he very probably made sure the doctor couldn't talk, by--"

"Overdosing him." Her lips twisted in distaste at the thought.
There had been so much more going on than she knew. Clark hadn't
told her, but even if he had, would she have believed him?
Regrettably, the answer was probably "no".

They ate in silence; Lois was aware that Clark was watching her
with a concerned expression. At last she looked up and met his
worried, brown eyes. "I'm all right, Clark. Really."

"I was afraid to say anything. If you were in love with him--"

"I'm not. And I never was."

"Are you upset?" he asked, quietly.

She gave him a little smile. "Only because I was so gullible."

He closed his eyes and exhaled suddenly. "Thank God."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" she asked, after a moment.

"What could I say? I knew a lot of things but I couldn't prove
them and I didn't want to lose your friendship over it. The only
thing I could do was to try to get some hard evidence; something
I could show you to prove what I said was true. But he's very
good at covering his tracks."

"Is that what you've been trying to do?"

He nodded. "I was afraid for you. The man's a sociopath. He may
say he loves you, but--"

She nodded slowly. "But that can change in a second. I know."
She reached across the table to touch his hand. "Thank you. For
caring enough to try."

For a second time, she caught that expression in his eyes, but
the thought occurred to her that she had to move slowly. This
time she would get to know the real man before she jumped into a
relationship with him. Clark might be Superman, he might want
her, but if he thought she wanted him because of his alter ego,
she had the suspicion it could ruin things before they got
started. Take it slow, Lane, she warned herself. There's a lot
to lose on this one if you blow it. Clark is Superman, but
Superman is also just Clark Kent, the country boy from Kansas.
There were plenty of things she needed to think about and
straighten out in her mind before she could make any progress.
But one thing was clear. Whatever it was that Clark felt for
her, it was far different from what others before him had felt,
and that gave her a warm feeling that warred with the
butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

Well, first things first. She finished the last of her bacon and
eggs with unladylike speed and swallowed the now tepid coffee.

"Well," she said, noting in the corner of her mind that Clark's
plate was also clear, "Let's go home. After I've had some sleep,
we'll talk more about this. We have to decide what to do."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "'Do'?"

"Of course. You're trying to get evidence on him to expose what
he's doing. We'll be more effective if we work together."

"Lois--"

"Do you want to bring him down or not?"

"Well yes, but--"

"Then, that's settled. I'm ready to go."

She saw him smile and shake his head, then he picked up the
bill, frowned thoughtfully for an instant and deposited a modest
tip on the table. "All right. Let me just pay the tab and we're
off."

*******************

"I'll see you this evening." Lois pushed open the door to her
apartment and stepped inside. Turning to face her partner, she
continued, "We need to talk more about this after I've had a
little sleep."

"You and me, both." He smiled at her. "I tell you what. Why
don't I come by about six with some takeout, and we can hash it
out. I can bring what little I *have* managed to find, and we
can decide what to do next."

"Sounds like a plan," Lois said. "I'll see you at six." She
closed the door and listened to his retreating footsteps. Then
there was a sound like rushing wind and a moment later a distant
sonic boom.

Slowly, she walked back toward her small bathroom and the lure
of a hot shower, but her mind was on the sounds she had just
heard. How often had Clark vanished from the newsroom and a few
seconds later she'd noted the sonic boom that marked Superman in
flight? And it had only served to perpetuate the illusion in her
mind, she thought, ruefully.

She gave a soft laugh. Simple country boy, hah! And yet, he'd
told her he wasn't your typical male. She snorted to herself as
she turned on the water and waited for it to warm. Getting to
know Clark from this new perspective could be an interesting
experience. And maybe she could figure out some of what really
made him tick along the way. It wouldn't be boring, anyway.

When she crawled into bed fifteen minutes later and closed her
eyes she was still considering her partner, her mind casting
back over the months she had known him, looking at each puzzling
little incident. A lot of them were explained now, and she felt
like kicking herself for not putting the clues together before.
The evidence had been sitting right in front of her and she'd
refused to see it, just as some of the things about Lex were
sitting in the open as well, from her standpoint. Little pieces
of overheard conversations, inconsequential actions, were
beginning to make sense with her new knowledge, the most obvious
his sheer love of playing with his power.

Something he'd said when she'd first met him came to mind
now--something about his home being at the top of the tallest
building in Metropolis and how he liked it that when people
wanted to see him they had to look up. She'd taken it for humor,
but Lex had been deadly serious. Well, she wasn't going to miss
any more clues. The conversation with Clark had opened her
eyes.

A small, irrational part of her mind still insisted she should
be angry with Clark for not telling her about himself--it was
embarrassing in a way to remember how she'd told him confidently
that she'd figured him out. But another part, the part that
insisted upon being annoyingly fair when she would have
preferred to be as unfair as possible brought up the counter
arguments that she couldn't refute, the chief one being: Why
should he have told her? They were partners and friends, sure;
he was probably the best friend she'd ever had, but she hadn't
told him all her own secrets, either, and this was a big one.
Not to mention the fact that in dating Lex she had been closely
associated with a man whom Clark knew, at least to his own
satisfaction, to be a criminal. No, Clark had excellent reasons
to keep who and what he was a secret even from her, as
humiliating as the realization might be. But it didn't have to
be that way. And, on that comforting thought, fatigue finally
had its way and Lois slept.

Clark arrived punctually at six that evening. Lois had resisted
the impulse to set a formal table; she opted to dress casually
and to greet her partner in the usual manner.

He was carrying a large, cardboard box with Chinese characters
on the sides, and several containers packed tightly therein were
releasing aromas that made her mouth water.

"Come on in." She inhaled deeply. "This smells wonderful, Clark.
Just set it on the coffee table."

He obeyed and Lois went to get the plates and silverware. When
she returned, he had removed the smaller boxes and was opening
them.

"Here's a plate for you. Let me just get the glasses and the
wine and we can sit down and eat."

"I'll get them. Why don't you sit down?" Clark went past her
into the kitchen and was back a moment later. "Here we go."

"Okay." Lois leaned forward to serve herself from the little
basket-like containers. "You always know the best places to go
for food, Clark. This smells fantastic."

"Thanks. It's a little family-owned restaurant I know."

They ate in silence for a few moments. After the sharpest edge
of her appetite had been blunted, Lois opened the subject that
had been occupying her mind since that morning, and even invaded
her dreams. "About Lex--you say you don't have any evidence?"

"Basically, yes, except for some very minor stuff." He took a
sip of the wine Lois had selected. "I have plenty of suspicions,
and I've seen things with my own eyes, but hard evidence has a
way of disappearing where Mr. Luthor is concerned."

"Yeah." Lois frowned thoughtfully at her sweet and sour shrimp.
"We need a way to get close to him, and I'm the way. I visit his
penthouse regularly, and I do a certain amount of wandering
around in there."

Clark looked faintly alarmed. "Do you know what would happen to
you if he caught you spying?"

"Yes. If he's done what you say he has, I have a pretty good
idea. But if he's that good at covering his tracks, we're going
to need to exploit any weakness he has, and it looks as if
that's me. I can be careful, and I promise I will be. In fact,
I've got an idea for gathering evidence. Do you think Superman
would help us?"

Clark raised his eyebrows. "Maybe. It depends on what you want
him to do. Superman wants to expose Luthor as much as I do,
but--"

"Well, let me talk to Jimmy, first. I'm thinking about the
possibility of a little electronic surveillance. If I can plant
a bug in his office, somewhere..."

"Lois--"

"It'll be all right," she assured him. "I'm not going to take
any stupid risks."

His expression told her he wasn't so sure of that, but he
nodded. "All right, I'll ask Superman. You're right that it's
probably the only way we can get the goods on him, but I don't
have to like it."

"Good, then that's settled. I have a date with him this Friday
night. We'll need to get everything ready by then."

*****************

"Lois! Clark!" Perry White's voice echoed over the other sounds
present in the Daily Planet newsroom on Monday morning. "There's
been a bomb threat at the Metropolis Mercantile Bank. Get on
over there, now!"

"Right, Perry! Jimmy, grab your camera!" Lois jumped to her
feet, wondering what Clark was going to do in order to slip
away. She didn't have to wait long. As the elevator doors opened
and she and Jimmy boarded, Clark snapped his fingers.

"I forgot something. You go ahead; I'll meet you there." Lois
looked after him, slightly bemused, as the doors closed. Then
she laughed and shook her head. A lot of Clark's odder behavior
was becoming perfectly clear to her, now. Jimmy looked at her
questioningly, but she didn't explain.

The scene in front of the Mercantile Bank was one of confusion,
she saw as they stepped from the taxi some ten minutes later.
She caught a flash of red and blue through the glass of the door
and smiled. Superman was already in there, as she should have
expected. She waved a hand at her companion.

"Better get some background shots. Be sure to get some of
Superman when he comes out, though."

"Right." Jimmy lifted his camera and began snapping pictures.
Lois moved forward to a police officer who was attempting to
control the movement of the inevitable crowd of spectators.

"Lois Lane, Daily Planet." She waved her press pass at him.
"What's happened, officer?

The man glanced over his shoulder at the bank. "Someone phoned
in a bomb threat. It might be a false alarm; there's been a
number of them lately, but naturally no one wants to take the
risk."

"I see..." She glanced past him as Superman and a single police
officer emerged from the building. "Superman!"

He glanced at her and smiled, continuing his conversation with
the man. After a moment he nodded and strode over to her.
"Hello, Lois."

"What happened in there?" she asked. Looking at him now, it was
incredible to her that she had never before noticed that this
was Clark Kent. It was obvious, and yet no one else seemed to
realize it. "Did you find a bomb?"

"It was a false alarm." He shrugged. "This has happened several
times the last couple of weeks. Someone evidently has a very
twisted sense of humor."

"That's disgusting," she said.

"Yes, I..." He faltered and raised a hand to his eyes.

"Superman, are you all right?" Lois put a hand on his arm. He
shook his head as if trying to clear it. "Superman?"

She saw him sway slightly. "Superman? What's wrong?"

As abruptly as it had happened, he straightened. He rubbed his
face. "I'm all right."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

He glanced around the area quickly as if looking for something,
then back to her. "Yes, I'm fine. Excuse me, Lois, I'm needed
somewhere else." He lifted into the air and was gone, leaving
her blinking at his sudden departure.

"Lois!" Clark came hurrying across the street toward her. "What
happened?"

"I'm not sure." She looked searchingly at his face, trying to
see any sign of the distress that she was sure she had not
imagined. There was no trace of it, but something strange had
happened and she didn't like it at all. For just a second there,
she had seen fear on Superman's face.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I'll tell you later. Do you see Jimmy anywhere? Superman said
it was a false alarm."

"There he is." Clark pointed with his chin toward the crowd of
spectators that was just beginning to break up. Jimmy came
trotting toward them, waving his camera.

"I got some good shots, Lois," he called.

"Did you get the ones of Superman?" she asked.

"Yeah. I got everything." Jimmy nodded at Clark. "Hi, CK."


"Good. Someone's been turning in fake bomb threats," Lois said.
"I think we could do a good article on how it pulls the
emergency services away from genuine emergencies, and sometimes
costs lives. What do you think, Clark?"

"Sounds good," he said, but his voice seemed distracted. He was
surveying the departing crowd again, looking for something, Lois
was sure. An idea hit her suddenly but she didn't voice it.
Whatever had happened, it was obvious Clark wasn't eager for her
to find out what it was. Well, two could play at that game. It
wasn't until they had returned to the Planet and Clark was on
the phone to his source at the police department that she was
able to take Jimmy aside and speak to him privately.

"You say you got pictures of the whole area?"

"Yeah."

"When you develop those prints, I want duplicates of them. In
fact, I'd like you to blow them up for me."

"Sure." Jimmy looked at her strangely. "Any particular reason?"

"I'm not certain. Just do it for me, will you?"

"No sweat. I'll have them finished later today."

"Good. And when you finish, bring them to me, not Clark, okay?"

"Sure." He turned his head as someone shouted for him. "Gotta
go. I'll get them to you as soon as I can."

Lois watched him thread his way through the maze of desks,
chairs and other hazards to navigation in the newsroom, then
turned back toward her desk.

Clark had been looking for something--that much had been
obvious. And whatever it had been, it had scared him. Maybe she
could find out what it was.

*******************

"What are you looking for?" Jimmy asked her a couple of hours
later. Lois glanced up from the stack of photos that he had
deposited on her desk a short time earlier.

"I don't know, exactly." She laid the big magnifying glass that
she had been using to bring small details into focus to one side
and wiggled the fingers of her left hand. She hadn't realized
how tightly she had been gripping the handle, or how tense her
shoulders had become. "What do you know about electronic
surveillance?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Well--" She glanced over at Clark's desk. Her partner had run
out of the newsroom approximately half an hour ago and she
hadn't seen him since. "Suppose I needed to gather information
on somebody--say, I suspected him of some sort of criminal
dealings. How would I bug his office without him knowing it?"

"Oh, you mean you want to bug somebody?"

"I thought I said that."

"Yeah." Jimmy frowned. "Would you want to listen in, or would
you want to record conversations for evidence?"

"I'd like to record it if I could," Lois said. "Clark and I are
investigating someone pretty important. We suspect some of his
business deals might be unethical. Anyway, I want to put a bug
in his business office. How can I do it, and what do I need?"

"Hmmm...." Jimmy frowned thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with a
forefinger. "I think...look, I know this little novelty shop
called 'Spys 'R' Us'--it sells all kinds of surveillance
equipment. I know it sounds stupid, but some of the stuff is
pretty good. If it works out, maybe we can get the Planet's
discretionary fund to pay for it..."

"Maybe. Clark and I will cover it in the meantime."

"Sure," Jimmy said. "I'll give them a call and find out if they
have what you need."

Lois turned back to the pile of photos. When Jimmy said he had
photographed the entire area he hadn't been kidding, she
thought, but she was just as pleased that he'd been a little
over-enthusiastic. With any luck, she might find what she was
looking for.

"What are you doing?" Clark's voice said behind her.

She almost jumped out of her skin. "Clark, don't sneak up on me
like that!"

"Sorry." He glanced at the stack on her desk. "Are those the
pictures Jimmy took?"

"Yeah." She held up her magnifying glass. "While we were at the
bank this morning something happened, Clark. It was as if
something hurt Superman. I think he was almost frightened for a
moment, and I could tell he was looking around for something.
Anyhow, Jimmy took a lot of pictures. If he happened to catch it
on film, and we can find it, maybe we can help Superman out."

"Are you sure?" Clark looked a little uneasy. "Did he tell you
so?"

"No, of course not," Lois said, impatiently, "but I'm not
stupid. Look, I'm not going to splash it all over the front
page. If this is something that can hurt him, the less people
know about it the better. All I want to do is to try to help
him."

"Well..." Clark looked at her oddly. "You're probably right.
Let's take them into the conference room. Maybe one of us will
see something the other doesn't."

A short time later, the photos were spread out on the table in
the conference room. Lois pointed out the ones she had already
checked and Clark bent over them, studying them intently.
Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Lois noted how he
lowered his glasses; evidently, his super-vision gizmo didn't
work through the lenses, she concluded. Or, maybe it just didn't
work as well. She'd have to ask him about that some time after
she'd convinced him that her interest in him wasn't because of
his incredible powers. The thought brought her up short. What
was her interest in him? Was it the powers?

No, she realized, the super powers didn't make Superman. Lex had
tremendous power of his own, and look what he did with it. If
he'd had Superman's powers... . Even the thought made her
shudder. It wasn't the powers; it was the man who had them. Even
without the super powers, Clark would still be a decent, caring
guy who would move heaven and earth to help people in need. And
now that she was looking past the flashy suit to the man wearing
it, it was a revelation to realize that. Clark would have been
worth her attention whether or not he was Superman, and she'd
been blind not to see it before. So much for her incisive
reporter's instinct.

She had the feeling she'd been staring at the photograph for
several seconds before it registered. The tall, attractive woman
in the photo was familiar. Now where...

Then she had it. She had seen this person at Lex's penthouse.
She was some sort of assistant to him--Mrs. Fox or Cox or
something. She was smiling, fondling a pendent that hung around
her neck. Lois squinted at it. What was it, an emerald? If so,
it was the biggest emerald she'd ever seen. Behind her she could
see herself and Superman, and the Man of Steel's eyes were
closed; this was the instant when whatever had affected Superman
had, well, affected him.

"Clark," she said, "come look at this. I think I might have
found something."

"What?"

"This woman. She works for Lex. I've seen her at the
penthouse."

Clark picked up the photograph and lifted his glasses to examine
it closely. "You're sure?"

"Yes. Her name's Fox or Cox or Sox. She's an assistant, I think.
I've never really been introduced to her. It just seems funny to
me that she was there just at that minute. What do you suppose
she did?"

"I don't know. I'll tell Superman about it, though. If Lex
Luthor is involved..."

"Yeah." Lois bit her lip. One more little piece of evidence, as
if she needed any more, that Lex wasn't the philanthropist he
seemed to be, she thought. He was up to something that involved
Superman, and she couldn't fool herself into thinking that he
meant any good at all. She wondered for a moment if the phony
bomb threats could be his work, too. Someone who would do the
things Clark claimed he'd done wouldn't hesitate to pull the
emergency services away from genuine emergencies in order to
provide camouflage for himself.

Well, at least Clark and she were now warned to watch for
something, and if Jimmy could provide her with the things she
needed for some electronic snooping, perhaps they could find out
what it was.

It wasn't until the next day that Jimmy appeared beside her desk
with a small package in his hands. "Lois?"

She looked up from her research on Lexel Real Estate
Investments. "Yes?"

"I think I've got what you need. The surveillance stuff."

"Okay." Lois glanced at the paper-wrapped box. "Is that it?"

"Yeah." Jimmy tore open the paper. "It comes in two parts.
Here's your mike."

She examined the little silver pen carefully. "A pen?"

"Yeah. And it even writes if somebody happens to find it. It's
actually a radio transmitter. It'll transmit to an earphone if
you like, or..." with a flourish he produced a small, black box
about four inches long by three wide, from the bag, "...to this.
It's a tape recorder. The pen runs on a watch battery and lasts
about a week without a replacement. The recorder is voice
activated, but you need to replace the batteries about once a
day, and it's only effective within about five hundred feet.
It's the best I could do."

"You mean the recorder has to be within five hundred feet of the
pen?"

"Yeah. Anything more powerful would have cost a lot more. Oh,
yeah, and the pen will only pick up sounds within about twenty
feet. Sorry."

"That's all right." Lois regarded the items thoughtfully. "I
think I can manage."

When she told Clark her plan, she watched with interest as his
thick, dark eyebrows rose incredulously. "You're going to bug
Luthor's office?"

Lois displayed the pen. "This is the microphone. The tape
recorder has to be within five hundred feet of the pen, and I
can't hide it inside the penthouse. I was thinking, do you think
Superman could plant it somewhere on the outside of the
building?"

Clark frowned. "Maybe. With this sort of transmitter, it might
be better if it was within line of sight, though. If you can
plant your pen near a window, maybe he can put the recorder
nearby. It's not very conspicuous."

"Just as long as no one can see it without hunting for it."

"I'll tell him. Give me the recorder. When do you want him to do
it?"

"Well, it won't do any good until I get the microphone planted.
I'm having dinner with Lex on Friday night. I'll put it in his
office then. Superman can place the recorder any time after
that, unless I can find a reason to visit Lex sooner."

Clark looked at the little recorder, then back at her. "Be
careful. If he realizes what you're doing, I don't know what
he'd do to you."

"He won't realize it." She put a hand on his arm. "Trust me."

Clark smiled crookedly at her. "I do. But I worry about you all
the same. Luthor's smart. He didn't get where he is by being
careless."

"I know. I won't get overconfident. I promise."

As it turned out, Lex called the next evening to invite her for
lunch the following day.

*******************

"Lois, be careful. If he even suspects your feelings for him
have changed he'll be watching you like a hawk." Clark, Lois
thought, was obsessing. Well, that was a good thing, wasn't it?
It meant he was worried about her and therefore he cared about
her.

Of course, Superman cared about everyone in the abstract, but
his feelings for her ran a lot deeper if she read the signs
accurately. Only, how was she supposed to convince him that she
was over her schoolgirl crush on Superman? For that matter, when
was he going to stop hiding and tell her the truth?

She was at an impasse. The unflattering comparisons she'd made
of the two men within Clark's hearing back when they'd first met
made her squirm now, even though she knew that he'd intended for
no one to notice the resemblance between himself and Superman.
They'd been unnecessarily cruel even then, when she didn't know
him very well, but she'd been driven and very competitive--not
that she was any less so now--and had resented Perry's foisting
him on her as a partner. And, of course, she'd regarded the
"country boy" from Kansas with contempt. It had taken a visit to
Smallville and a meeting with Martha and Jonathan Kent to shake
her smug convictions of superiority. Martha and Jonathan might
be country folks, but they were anything but unintelligent. That
was when she'd realized the fact that "from the country" did not
automatically equate with "stupid." After all, how many complete
idiots swarmed through the streets of Metropolis every day?

"Lois, did you hear me?"

She nodded. "Sorry; I was thinking. I promise I won't do
anything careless. If we want to get the evidence we need I
can't afford to get caught."

"You can't afford to get caught, anyway!"

She gave a slightly nervous laugh. "Sorry. You know what I
meant. I've done dozens of undercover investigations before I
met you. I'll be fine."

He nodded, but still looked worried. "I know, and I do trust
you. It's Luthor I don't trust."

"Take it easy." She patted him on the hand and glanced at her
watch. "Oops, gotta go. He's sending a car for me."

*****************

Lunch in Lex Luthor's penthouse, at the very top of Lex
Tower--as Lex had said proudly many times, "the tallest building
in Metropolis"--was as usual, excellent. Lex's French chef had
prepared a delicious light meal with Lois's low calorie
preferences in mind. If she hadn't known that Lex admired her
trim figure, she would have suspected Andre of sneaking one of
the luscious cream sauces for which he was famous into the
dish.

Lex's office, from which he conducted most of his business, was
part of the penthouse--a luxury he could afford since all of Lex
Tower below them amounted to the nerve center of his vast
business empire. After the meal was finished, it took only an
expression of interest from Lois for Lex to escort her to her
goal.

She didn't even have to simulate her awe; she stared around the
room, wide-eyed. Even familiar as she was with the lavish
penthouse and it's many treasures--Lex had hired only the best
to decorate his home--the sheer size of the place took her
breath away. After a moment of silence, she said lightly, "Wow.
Your desk is almost as big as my living room."

He chuckled indulgently. "I hardly think so. So, what do you
think?"

She moved into the room, admiring the objets d'art that were
arranged tastefully here and there, and the brilliant Picasso
that hung on one wall. "It's a little...overwhelming. You
actually conduct business here?"

"All the time." He looked amused at her wide-eyed astonishment.
She glanced down.

"I suppose this is a genuine Persian rug, too."

"It is." He took her arm, steering her to the picture window to
the left of and behind his desk. "And when I wish to I can look
out over m...the city. The view from here is quite spectacular,
don't you agree?"

"Very," Lois said. "I can even see Centennial Park from here."

"Yes, that was one reason for choosing this location for my
office." Lex turned as someone came to the door. "Yes, Mrs.
Cox?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Lex, I didn't realize you and Ms. Lane were
here," a woman's voice said. Lois turned.

The newcomer was the woman in Jimmy's photograph. Lex smiled and
made introductions. "Lois Lane, Mrs. Cox. Mrs. Cox is my
personal assistant, Lois."

"Pleased to meet you," Lois said.

Mrs. Cox nodded her head and her lips smiled, but the smile
didn't reach her eyes. "I was only bringing you the report on
the progress of the Series K project." She moved forward to lay
a slim folder on the huge, mahogany desk.

"Series K?" Lois asked.

"Just one of LexCorp's many projects," Lex said. "Excuse me one
moment." He moved to the doorway with his assistant. Lois
couldn't hear what they said, but it looked as if now was the
only chance she was likely to have.

Standing next to the window was a tall, potted palm. Lois
withdrew the slender metal pen, which was her bug, from her
pocket and leaned forward as if looking down from the high
window toward the sidewalk far below. With an apparently casual
motion, she rested her hand on the edge of the pot and let the
pen fall softly to the rug between the big container and the
window, which reached from ceiling to floor. For once the Fates
seemed to favor her, for the little cylinder rolled slightly
when it struck the rug and stopped just beneath the rim of the
wide dish that prevented water from leaking from the pot onto
the expensive carpet. To all but the most careful of observers,
the pen was out of sight.

Slowly, she straightened and smoothed her skirt, then glanced up
as a glimpse of motion beyond the window caught her eye.

That hadn't been her imagination, she thought. The red and blue
flash had been Superman, hanging around nearby, just in case.

"What are you looking at?" Lex's voice said, behind her. Her
heart leaped, but she maintained her position for another five
seconds before she turned casually to him. "Just admiring the
view. I hadn't realized how much higher Lex Tower is than even
the Moritomi Building, next door."

He nodded and smiled at her. "Lex Tower is the tallest building
in the city. I like to be able to look down on the roofs of all
my neighbors."

"Well, it's a magnificent view." She glanced down at her watch.
"Oh, heavens, look at the time! I'm going to be late getting
back to work."

"I'll have Nigel drive you back," he said easily. "It was a
pleasure having you here today. I enjoyed it immensely."

"So did I." She turned to survey the office one last time before
preceding him out the door. "And the lunch was wonderful."

He escorted her to the elevator. "Don't forget our date tomorrow
night. I thought we'd make up for missing Madame Butterfly last
week."

"That sounds perfect," she said.

It was only when the elevator door closed behind her that she
exhaled a huge sigh of relief.

*******************

"It's safely planted," she told Clark, twenty-five minutes later
as they stood waiting for the elevator at the Daily Planet.
"It's just under the rim of a big potted palm next to that
enormous picture window in his office. Superman can put the
recorder in place any time."

"He already did," Clark told her. "He had an eye on you the
whole time."

"I guessed that when I saw him," she said, just a trifle
smugly.

"You saw him?"

"Just a glimpse, but he was there. Lex didn't see him, though.
He was talking to Mrs. Cox."

"Oh. That's good, then." Clark looked relieved. "He didn't
suspect anything?"

"Not a thing," she said. "We're going to the opera tomorrow
night."

"All right, but be careful," he said.

"I can handle Lex," she said, quietly. "You have to trust me."

"I do," he said, as quietly. "I wish--" He broke off as the
doors opened and they boarded. Two other newsroom employees
raced to catch the elevator as well, and Clark politely held the
doors for them.

When the doors opened again on the newsroom and they exited,
Clark spoke again. "I've had Jimmy doing some digging. We'll see
if he has anything for us."

"It seems to me that any evidence we get that way is going to be
circumstantial at best," Lois said.

"True. But considering who we're investigating, anything we can
find to bolster our case, even circumstantial evidence,
shouldn't be ignored. Besides," Clark added, "it might give us
an idea where else to look."

"That's true," Lois agreed. They descended the ramp, still
talking.

"There's also this," Clark said. "Superman tells me that just
about every criminal element in the city pays protection money
to a shadowy character they call 'The Boss'. Most of them have
no idea who he is, and the ones who do are too terrified to
talk. The rumor on the streets is that 'The Boss' is behind the
recent spate of fire bombings and arsons of businesses on the
south side. That's where Lexel Development is buying up all that
property for its strip mall project. Lois, what if 'The Boss' is
Lex Luthor?"

"I guess it wouldn't be beyond the realm of possibility," she
said. "We'll probably be in a better position to judge in a day
or two. In the meantime, let's see what Jimmy's got for us. And
then, I'm going to get hold of Bobby Bigmouth."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "Bobby Who?"

"Bobby Bigmouth. He's one of my snitches. Since we're partners,
I think it's about time I introduced you to him. Just be sure
you always bring something for him to eat when you're looking
for information. He's not called Bobby Bigmouth because of his
chosen 'profession'."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He must have a metabolic problem or something. He's
skinnier than a rail and eats constantly. You pay him with
food."

"I'll take your word for it, but do you think he'll come
through?"

"Maybe," Lois said. "He has to watch out for his own skin,
though. He doesn't want to end up at the bottom of Hobb's Bay."

"That's for sure. Well, tell him we'll take whatever he can give
us, but to be careful." Clark turned his head. "Hey, Jim! Did
you get that stuff I asked you to look up?"

"Some of it." Jimmy was headed across the room toward the Sports
desk. "Just a minute and I'll show you."

The information, Lois thought, looking at what Jimmy had found
some time later, wasn't proof. But it was certainly consistent
with the pattern that was beginning to emerge: lists of business
contracts that had gone to LexCorp because of the sudden and
convenient death of a business competitor, coincidental acts of
sabotage against the rival, or fortuitous acts of nature;
acquisition of land at reduced prices after the real estate
value in targeted areas suddenly and inexplicably lost
value--many, many coincidences that somehow always favored
LexCorp, but no proof. She looked at Clark with a sick sensation
in the pit of her stomach.

"It's a definite pattern, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"What kind of a monster is he?"

Her partner's expression was sympathetic. "I think you know."

"And he likes to project this picture of himself as a
philanthropist. It makes me want to throw up. Why didn't I see
any of this before?"

"Because he was very careful around you." Clark's tone was
neutral. "He wants to impress you."

"I'm impressed, all right," she said, dryly. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not saying 'I told you so'."

"I didn't tell you so."

"Well, yes and no. I knew what you thought of him. I just didn't
know why."

"Well, you know now."

"Yeah, I guess I do."

*******************

Friday afternoon, Clark appeared beside her desk with a
microtape. "Here's the first recording. Superman told me he
replaced the batteries and tape with new ones."

Lois opened her desk drawer and removed her recorder. "Let's see
what we've got."

"Lois! Clark!" Their editor's voice cut through the noise that
was constantly present in the newsroom. "Get over to Lex Tower!
Lex Luthor is giving a press conference over his redevelopment
plans for the south side business district in twenty minutes."

Lois dropped the tape into her bag. "I guess we'll listen to
this later. Let's go hear the latest."

*******************

"So, as you can see from this model," Lex Luthor was saying,
"The results of redeveloping the old business district with a
modern, planned enterprise, will result in revitalization of a
deteriorating area and thousands of new jobs for the citizens of
Metropolis..."

"Mr. Luthor!" Clark lifted a hand. "What about the business
owners who are being displaced by this project? There have been
rumors of coerced sales of some of the businesses as well as
increased gang activity over the last few months that has
resulted in lowered property values and therefore bargain prices
for Lexel Development. Do you have any comment on that?"

"I never listen to rumors, Mr. Kent." Lex smiled suavely. "Any
more questions?"

Several hands waved in the air and there were more shouted
questions from other members of the press. Lois remained silent,
watching Lex's performance as he smoothly handled the reporters,
dodged inconvenient points, and emerged unscathed at the end.
Everything he did seemed somehow...slimy, now that she knew, or
had a pretty good idea, what lay behind that pleasant façade. He
met her eyes through the mob of press and smiled, and she smiled
automatically back. How could she not have seen his sheer
arrogance before?

Because she'd been dazzled by the attention of a man as wealthy
and powerful as Lex Luthor, so dazzled that she had never once
looked to see what lay behind the face he presented to the world
at large. In a way, the situation was similar to the one with
Superman. She had never looked past the super-hero to see the
kind and decent man behind the flashy costume. She had been
discovering a number of things about herself ever since last
Saturday night, much of which she was not particularly happy
about, but at least she could learn from it.

She glanced sideways at Clark. He apparently loved her in spite
of her faults, and he could hardly be unaware of them. He wasn't
perfect either, by a long shot, but somehow that didn't seem to
matter. Maybe that was something else she should think about. It
might not be a case of finding perfection. Maybe it was more one
of finding someone with the qualities that did matter and faults
you could live with. When she looked at it that way, maybe some
of the things she was beating herself with weren't as important
as she thought, at least not to her partner.

Maybe this time the right man had found her in spite of herself.
It wasn't as if she hadn't tried to discourage him in every way
possible and he still stayed, for some reason. Evidently, he
hadn't given up hope. That must mean something. Of course, that
didn't mean she couldn't try to change some of her more
unpleasant characteristics. And she still had to convince him,
somehow, that her interest was really in him and not the powers.
She still had no clue how to do that, but she really hadn't had
the time to think about it what with the investigation. Maybe
something would come to her on its own.

Lois Lane Kent. The name didn't sound so bad, come to think of
it.

"Lois?" Clark waved a hand in front of her eyes. "Are you all
right?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I was somewhere else. Are we done?"

"We're done. Let's get out of here." He looked at her oddly.
"You were looking at me with the strangest expression. Is
something wrong?"

"Sort of, but not really. I just have a small problem I'm trying
to figure out how to fix."

"Anything I can help you with?"

She shook her head and smiled wryly. "Not this time, I'm afraid,
but thanks for offering."

***********

"Good night, Lex. It was a lovely evening." At the door of her
apartment, Lois looked up into Lex Luthor's handsome face. "I
enjoyed it very much."

The multi-billionaire looked earnestly down at her. "So did I.
You *will* think about it, won't you?"

She smiled at him, shyly. "Of course I will. It's just that it's
such a big step. I need time to adjust to the idea."

"I understand completely." He leaned down and kissed her lightly
on the lips. Lois forced herself to accept the kiss, although
every instinct she possessed urged her to pull away. Under no
circumstances must she allow him to guess her true feelings. Let
him believe her nervousness was due to the extra-ordinary
proposal he had made to her this evening at dinner. Marriage? He
was in love with her?

A week before the idea would have dazzled her. Now it produced
nothing but a sense of pure horror. Afterwards, she had smiled
appropriately, laughed at his jokes and allowed him to display
her on his arm as they made their appearance at the opera. If
Lex chose to believe her slight abstraction was due to visions
of a possible life with him, he was free to do so. She smiled
warmly at him as he bade her a graceful good night and he waited
until she had entered the apartment to turn and make his way
back toward the elevator.

Lois closed and locked her apartment door, then leaned back
against it and closed her eyes. *Now* what was she going to do?

After a time she straightened up and walked into the bedroom,
pulling off her heeled shoes as she went. She tossed the
footwear in the general direction of her closet and glanced at
the digital clock on the nightstand. The time was one-thirteen
a.m. Slowly, she pulled the pins from her elegant coiffure and
shook out the hairstyle. It was a relief to be able to relax
after the evening with Lex. Her eyes fell on the bag she carried
to work. The tape was still inside. She and Clark had been kept
busy all afternoon and hadn't had time to listen to it yet.
There was no time like the present. At least she could hear a
sample of what they had managed to record.

She extracted the microtape and recorder, inserted one into the
other and punched the play button, then continued her
preparations for bed.

Five minutes later she was hovering over the recorder, finger on
the rewind button. Biting her lip, she replayed the
conversation, straining her ears to hear every word.

"...Finished. The Kryptonite bullets are ready, and the cage is
completed." Mrs. Cox's voice spoke with appalling clarity. "All
we need now is the right man for the job."

"I trust you have that person selected?" Lex's voice sounded
faintly bored. "Someone who will do the job for a cash payment,
and who won't be missed afterwards?"

"Yes. His name is John Black. We've been employing him for a
number of the arsons on the south side. Very useful man, no
scruples to speak of and willing to do any job for the right
amount of money." Mrs. Cox's voice sounded matter-of-fact.

"It's unfortunate we'll have to sacrifice him, then," Lex's
voice said. "But after this job he'll know too much for our
safety."

"There are plenty more where he came from," Mrs. Cox replied.
"Shall I make the call?"

"Yes. Be sure he understands that he is not to shoot to kill. A
hit on the body anywhere should suffice to incapacitate Superman
enough for our purposes." His voice dropped, and Lois felt a
chill crawl up her spine at the sheer venom in it. "I want to
watch him die."

"I will, Lex. When do you want it done?"

Something creaked. "Tonight."

Whatever else might have been said after that, Lois wasn't
listening. She grabbed the phone and dialed Clark's number with
shaking fingers. She had to warn him before it was too late.

The phone began to ring. "Come on, Clark, pick up the phone!"
she whispered.

The phone continued to ring. Nobody answered.

********************

The phone had rung twenty-five times by actual count before she
put down the receiver. Clark manifestly wasn't home. Well, maybe
there was another way to contact him. She walked to the window,
opened it wide and shouted at the top of her voice.

"Help! Superman!"

And she waited.

After five minutes had passed, she was forced to acknowledge
that he wasn't coming.

She paced. The chances were good that nothing was wrong. He
might be absorbed in some emergency situation where he couldn't
break away.

Except that when she'd yelled for help there had never before
been a time when he failed to answer.

She glanced down at herself. Clad in her night clothing, she
really wasn't dressed for the cold weather if she were to decide
to go out and look for him.

The sheer impossibility of the task struck her forcibly,
followed swiftly by an idea. She turned on the television and
switched the channel to LNN. The irony of the situation would
have made her laugh if she hadn't been so worried. While she
waited for the commercial about the virtues and efficacy of the
latest exercise machine to finish, she pulled on sweats and a
pair of running shoes.

When the news program returned, there was a spot report on the
water main break in front of City Hall early that afternoon.
Lois waited, biting her thumbnail. The picture finally shifted
again and an announcer came on with breaking news about the fire
bombing of a small mom and pop grocery store on the south side.
The camera showed a blazing building and fire fighters in full
gear, and the announcer's voice told her that it had taken place
barely twenty minutes before.

Lois scooped up her purse. It was a shot--not a good one, but at
least it was a chance.

She was at the door when her phone rang.

She raced across the floor to the instrument and picked it up in
the middle of the second ring.

"Hello?"

At first, there was only the sound of harsh breathing on the
line.

"Hello?" she repeated.

More heavy breathing. A crank call. She had made up her mind
that was all it was when she heard her name whispered.

"Lois?"

"Yes? Who's this?"

The whisper was a little louder. "Super...man." A whistling,
indrawn breath. "Need...help."

"Where are you?" she demanded urgently.

She could hear him panting with effort. "South...side." He
breathed heavily for several seconds. "Fire."

"You're near that fire on the south side?"

He began to cough, but managed to rasp out one more word.
"Evans." His voice dissolved into more coughing.

"Hold on. I'll be there as fast as I can."

She had no memory, later, of getting to the Jeep. She supposed
she must have locked her apartment door, but that period was a
blank in her mind. She probably broke every speed law on the
books as well, and it was certainly a miracle that no traffic
cop stopped her before she reached the south side.

The fire was a brilliant blaze against the sky, a glory of red,
yellow and gold, with glowing sparks rising on a cloud of smoke.
Embers drifted across her windshield and white ash sifted down
endlessly.

The map Lois had extracted from her glove compartment told her
Evans Way was two streets over to the east of the fire. Lois
drove around the block, avoiding the blockades erected by the
emergency services and the seething, shifting crowd of
rubberneckers who had shown up even at this hour in the morning
to gawk at the flames. The whole area had a scorched smell to it
that made her wrinkle her nose.

Evans was a narrow, brick street, one of the few such remaining
in Metropolis. By day, the street would attract tourists to the
quaint, old-fashioned stores and open-air markets where
merchants sold overpriced souvenirs and other merchandise to the
unwary. The street was part of Metropolis' Old Town, where the
residents had preserved the atmosphere of the city as it had
been a century ago as a monument to the past--and a lucrative
tourist trap.

Two blocks away, the sky was brilliant with the fire, but this
area was dim and quiet. All those who might frequent Evans at
this hour had gone to watch the show.

She was directly opposite the fire, now, peering hopelessly
around at the shadowy buildings. No sign of life greeted her
eyes.

No, wait--there was a phone booth. She pulled up next to it on
the wrong side of the street, looking around. Nothing.

Motion caught her eye; the ever so slight swinging motion of the
receiver, dangling from its metal cord. Lois grabbed her
map-reading flashlight and shone it on the booth.

Ominous splotches of a rusty, red color dotted the sidewalk
below the phone. Quickly, she flashed the light along the
cement, following the trail left by those smears of drying blood
that marked where someone had crawled.

Some six feet away, an alley opened up between a souvenir shop
and an old fashioned soda fountain. Cautiously, she flashed her
light into that dark interior, and her heart leaped into her
throat as it flickered over the toe of a very familiar red
boot.

For an instant she was frozen in horror, then she acted. The
time for nerves and hysterics could come later when she had the
time. Right now, Superman's life might depend on what she did
next.

With a skill she didn't know she possessed, she backed the Jeep
up to that narrow entrance and cut the lights. If someone was
watching, she didn't want witnesses to see what happened.
Quickly and precisely, as if the actions were programmed in, she
unlocked the rear door closest to the spot where Superman lay,
half-propped against the rough, brick wall. She opened her door
and got out, glancing around warily in the darkness.

Nothing moved. As her eyes adjusted to the much lower light
level, she was more able to reassure herself that no one lurked
in the darker shadows. In the quiet of the alley, she could hear
Clark's harsh breathing. It was a relief in a way because it
told her he was still alive, but in another it was frightening
to hear him in such distress.

She swung the rear door open and hurried to kneel beside him on
the cement.

"Cl...Superman!" She kept her voice down, reminding herself
sharply that this was *Superman* not Clark. "Can you hear me?"

His eyelids fluttered and he raised his head with an effort.
"Lois?" he mumbled indistinctly.

"It's Lois. You have to help me. I can't lift you. Can you move
if I help you?"

"Try..." he managed.

She got his arm over her shoulders and put one of hers around
him. Her hand encountered something warm and sticky, and he
gasped. Quickly, she adjusted her grip, fighting to control her
fear. First things first. Superman obviously didn't want this
incident to be known, but if he was hurt too badly, she intended
to take him to the emergency room, objections notwithstanding.
Somehow she got him on his feet, and guided his unsteady
progress to the Jeep.

Afterwards she couldn't have said how they did it but when she
was finished, Superman lay on his face on the rear seat of the
Jeep.

There was nothing she could do at the moment and every reason to
get out of the area as fast as possible. The shooter could still
be around, possibly looking for his victim. Lois scrambled into
the driver's seat and started the engine. A few moments later
she was driving sedately away from the Metropolis gas lamp
quarter, avoiding the roadblocks and stray pedestrians still
filtering in to gawk at the flames. Behind her, the burning
building sent black smoke and bursts of glowing embers into the
sky. The thought occurred to her that something must be fueling
the flames besides the material of the grocery store, and if the
fire fighters didn't get the situation under control soon it
could very well spread and Lex wouldn't have to negotiate prices
very hard at all. She was willing to bet he was behind this as
well as the shooting of Superman. It might even be what was used
to lure him in. Why hadn't they taken time to listen to that
tape sooner? She wasn't going to make that mistake again. Thank
heavens tomorrow was her day off, and Clark's as well. Their
absence from the newsroom wouldn't be remarked on at all.

"Superman!" she called sharply over her shoulder. "Can you hear
me?"

A faint, affirmative mumble answered her. Lois checked her
rearview mirror. There didn't appear to be anyone following her.
The Jeep emerged onto one of the well-lighted main streets of
the city, and she zeroed in on the parking lot across from Metro
PD's headquarters. If anyone bothered her now she intended to
blow her horn and scream bloody murder for help. There was no
way she would allow the would-be killer, probably the "John
Black" named on the tape, to complete his mission.

She hoped it wouldn't come to that. If she could, she wanted to
help Clark continue to conceal the existence of Kryptonite for
as long as he could. Lex certainly wouldn't be doing much
talking about it, or Mrs. Cox either.

Of course, all that depended on how badly Clark was hurt.

She cut the engine and squirmed around to look between the seats
at her passenger. The red cape was blotched with darker red
patches of blood, and she shoved it impatiently aside.

The wound was high on his back, directly over the right shoulder
blade. The bullet must have struck the bone, she thought. Was
there anything vital in that area? She didn't know, even for a
human. How was she supposed to have any idea for a man from
another planet?

"Lois--" The word was a breathy whisper. "Kryptonite...poison."
He inhaled and seemed to gather his resolve. "You...have to take
it out."

*She* had to do it? "I..."

"Please!" The word was spoken more strongly.

She gulped. At least he didn't appear to be bleeding so heavily,
now. Maybe he hadn't been hurt as badly as she first thought.
Maybe most of the problems came from the poisonous nature of the
bullet rather than the physical damage. Lex had seemed to imply
that much in his order to Mrs. Cox.

Drawing a deep breath, she made her decision. "We need to get
back to my place. I can't do it here."

"Hurry!"

Quickly, she started the engine, put the Jeep in gear and backed
out of the parking spot. The Metropolis traffic was at its
lowest ebb right now, although there were still plenty of cars
on the street. The trip to her apartment seemed to take forever,
but it was actually less than fifteen minutes before she pulled
the Jeep into a parking place behind her apartment building.

There was a back entrance to the building, next to a big,
utilitarian dumpster, although it was certainly locked at this
hour. Taking Superman in by the front way hadn't seemed like a
good idea, so she hoped she could pick this lock as easily as
she had the ones on the handcuffs last Saturday night. Lois
jumped out and hurried over to it.

Picking the lock was easier than it had been for the handcuffs.
As she ran back to the Jeep, she made a mental note to speak to
Mr. Tracewski about building security. If she could pick the
back door lock with her as yet new skill, what could an
experienced burglar do?

The struggle to get Superman into the building, to the elevator
and up to her apartment was a nightmare. The Man of Steel leaned
heavily on her and she could tell he was exerting all his
willpower to stay on his feet but, for all that, they nearly
didn't make it. When she kicked the door shut behind them,
Superman collapsed forward onto the rug. All she could do was
break his fall.

"Superman?"

He was breathing hard. "Help me, Lois."

"Stay right there." She swallowed nervously. "I'm going to get
some things."

She turned and automatically slid the door chain into place,
then half-ran into her tiny kitchen. What on Earth was she
supposed to use to dig a bullet out of Superman? The whole idea
made her stomach lurch, but he was counting on her. She couldn't
fail him.

The best candidate seemed to be a small paring knife. She
swallowed nervously, selected a couple of clean dishtowels from
a drawer and returned to the living area.

He hadn't moved. He was lying on his face, eyes closed, his
forehead resting on his left arm. His face was shiny with a
light coating of perspiration. Lois dropped to her knees beside
him.

"Superman," she ventured, "can you hear me?"

His eyes came open and he turned his head to look at her.

"I'm going to try to take the bullet out, but it's going to
hurt."

He nodded, and she could see him shudder slightly.

Carefully, she felt with her fingertips around the wound. She
could *feel* the thing! It was lodged against his shoulder
blade. It was something of a miracle in itself, she thought,
that it hadn't broken the bone and damaged who knew how many
vital things underneath, but maybe this wasn't going to be quite
as bad as she'd first thought. With the tip of the knife she
probed into the wound as carefully as she could, biting her lip
at Clark's gasp of pain, and found the bullet. She slipped the
point of her paring knife under the hard, little object and
pressed gently upward.

There it was. With one of the dishtowels, she picked up the
bullet. It was stained with red, but when she wiped away the
blood, it glowed green in the light of the apartment.

Green--like that pendent worn by Mrs. Cox in Jimmy's photograph,
when she and Superman had been talking in front of the bank.
This had to be Kryptonite: the substance Jason Trask had
believed would kill Superman.

With a quick scramble she was on her feet, the only thought in
her mind to get this stuff away from Clark as fast as she could.
What could she do with it? She had no idea what distance was
safe for him, and besides, she wanted to be sure that no one
would ever find it again. Well, the best solution seemed to be
the sewer system. The likelihood of its ever being found there
seemed pretty remote. Lois flushed it down the toilet, and
followed the initial flush with a second one, just to be on the
safe side, then hurried back to Clark.

The removal of the Kryptonite seemed to have improved the
situation already. His breathing was easier and he was trying to
push himself up on his arms.

"Superman, don't move," she told him. "You're still bleeding.
I'm going to bandage your shoulder, all right?"

He nodded and lowered his head to his forearm again.

Lois thought. Normally, her first aid supplies around the
apartment consisted of a box of Band-Aids and a bottle of
iodine. But a few months ago the local Cub Scouts had had a
fundraiser, selling small, individual first aid kits, and Lois
had been unable to resist the two young boys who had shown up at
her door. The little first aid kit had gone into a closet, never
to be thought of again until now.

It was still there, sitting between a desk fan and the dust
buster. Clutching it like a life preserver, she returned to
Superman.

The shirt was definitely ruined. Even if there was some
reasonable way to patch spandex--and somehow the idea of
Superman flying around in a patched uniform just didn't seem
right--it was unlikely the blood would ever come out. She
removed the cape and took a small pair of scissors out of the
kit.

"Superman, I'm going to have to cut this off," she said. "I
can't get at the wound any other way."

He nodded, eyes closed. She snipped away the cloth, trying to
disturb him as little as possible. She had never seen Superman
look so exhausted. The wound had begun to bleed sluggishly again
when she removed the bullet. She blotted it up with the
remaining clean towel and proceeded to bandage the damaged
shoulder as well as she could. When she had finished, the result
wasn't exactly the most professional in appearance, but she
figured it would do the job.

Superman was still resting his head on his good arm. She sat
back on her heels and wiped away the perspiration that was
running into her eyes. "Superman, are you all right?"

"Yeah." The word was muffled and he didn't raise his head.
"Thanks."

"You're welcome. How do you feel?"

He was silent for a moment and when he spoke his voice was
stronger. "Better, actually. Where's the Kryptonite?"

"In the sewer system by now."

"Good." He seemed to relax a little. Lois checked her work on
his shoulder. In spite of her amateur doctoring, it seemed to be
holding well enough.

"If I help you, do you think you can stand? I'd like to get you
off the floor."

"In a minute."

"Okay." She continued to sit beside him, wondering what to do
now, and what she would do if he fell asleep. She couldn't leave
him on the rug.

"Superman?" she said, finally.

"Mm?"

"Are you awake?"

"Mm...yeah." He shook his head slightly. "Sorry."

He had dozed off, then, she thought.

"If I help you, can you get up? You can't sleep on the rug."

"Yeah, I think so."

"Put your arm over my shoulders." She braced herself to take his
weight, but he was able to support himself better now. Lois
glanced at her sofa and rejected that notion in the same
instant. She was sure he would object but she realized, glancing
at his strained face, that he was concentrating so hard on
staying on his feet that he hadn't noticed where she was leading
him. It wasn't until she was helping him to sit down on the edge
of her bed that he seemed to become aware of the fact.

"I can't..."

"I'm not going to argue about this," she said, in her best
no-nonsense voice. "You're in no shape to go anywhere tonight,
and if you try to sleep on my sofa you'll probably get blood on
it. Lie down. I'm too tired to discuss it at this hour." She
pulled the sheet and blankets down. "Get in."

He opened his mouth, closed it again and nodded.

"Okay," he said, meekly, and let Lois help him to stretch out on
the bed, face down. She pulled his boots off without getting an
argument from him and pushed his feet fully onto the bed.

"I probably should take you to the emergency room," she said,
pulling the covers over him, but leaving the bandage exposed,
"but I know why you don't want anyone to know. I warn you,
though, if you get any worse during the night, I'm calling the
paramedics. Is that clear?"

He nodded, eyes closed. "Yes. Thank you, Lois. You saved my
life."

"We'll talk about it in the morning," she said, more gently.
"Good night, Superman."

*******************

Lois woke at nine the next morning, after a very disturbed night
of repeated trips into the bedroom to check on her
super-patient. She glanced at the clock, figuring she had
probably managed to accumulate as many as five full hours of
sleep over the night.

Quietly, she tiptoed into the bedroom. Clark was sleeping
soundly, his face all but buried in the pillow, and she took a
moment to admire the torso now fully exposed from the waist up.
Wow. And to think that was what her partner had been hiding
under his suits with their flashy ties. Well, no more accepting
people at face value for her. She'd thought that she knew better
than that, too. Last Saturday night had been a wake-up call in
more ways than one.

She crept across the small room, collected clothing from her
dresser and retreated to the bathroom for a quick shower, trying
to make as little noise as possible. She must have succeeded for
when she emerged ten minutes later he was still sleeping. She
tiptoed past him into the living room. Clark liked tea better
than coffee, she recalled. At least she could make that.

It was a few minutes later that she heard him stirring around.
She walked to the entrance of the bedroom and knocked softly.

"Come in." If she'd heard his voice, not knowing it was
Superman, the cat would have been out of the bag long since, she
thought, as she entered the room. Clark was sitting on the edge
of the bed, feeling his shoulder experimentally.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

He glanced up at her and smiled cautiously. "Better. You saved
my life. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She moved toward him uncertainly. "Do you need
any help?"

"Well--" He dropped his gaze. "I could use a hand to the
bathroom."

"Sure." She moved around the bed and helped him to stand. He
staggered a little, and Lois put an arm around his waist. "Put
your arm over my shoulder. I don't bite."

Tentatively, he obeyed and rested some of his weight on her. "I
appreciate this, Lois."

"You don't have to keep thanking me," she said, quietly. "I'd
have done it for anybody."

"I know," he said. "But thank you, anyway."

"No problem. Come on, now." She helped him the short distance to
the little bathroom. "Do you think you can manage? There are
plenty of things to hang onto in there."

"Yeah." He was panting slightly. "I guess I'll just have to
forego brushing my teeth this morning," he added with a slight
smile.

"There's a spare in the drawer," she told him. "It's still in
the package. Go ahead and use it."

"I didn't mean--"

"Just go ahead," she said. "I can always get another one. I'll
put something you can wear on the foot of the bed. I have a pair
of Clark's sweats that he loaned me a couple of months ago and I
forgot to give back." She pushed the bathroom door open.
"There's towels on the rack. Yell if you need any help."

After he had closed the door she went to the dresser and found
the sweats. She glanced thoughtfully at the bathroom door as she
heard the water come on. The situation was a delicate one. That
was Clark in there, and she wanted badly to help him all she
could. But, at the same time, fawning over Superman wouldn't be
such a good idea, because it would reinforce his conviction that
her crush on Superman was intact.

Well, it would only be reasonable that she'd want to check his
injury, wouldn't it? She returned to the living area and found
the little first aid kit where she had left it last night. She
would simply treat him the way a friend would treat any other
friend, she thought. That decided, she spent the next twenty
minutes trying not to fret and pace.

The tea water boiled and she dropped in leaves, hoping that she
didn't get it too strong or too weak for Superman's taste, and,
as an afterthought, set out bowls, spoons and dry cereal. At
least she didn't have to prepare that, so she couldn't ruin it.

The creak of the bathroom door hinge--she really had to oil that
thing, she thought, irrelevantly--alerted her to the fact that
Superman was emerging from the bathroom. She knocked on the
partition between the rooms. "Need any help?"

"Um--no, I think I can manage." Superman's voice sounded
slightly embarrassed. "Are these the sweats?"

"Yeah. Right on the foot of the bed," Lois said. "Don't put the
shirt on yet. I want to check your shoulder."

"All right." She could hear him moving around, occasional
muffled thumps and once a softly spoken exclamation that might
have been a mild cuss word. She smiled to herself. One didn't
think of Superman, or even Clark, as ever swearing but he
probably did at least occasionally. He was just too much of a
gentleman to do so in the presence of others, and she doubted he
was much in the habit of it, anyway. Superman couldn't afford to
accidentally let slip such language in the wrong company.

"Lois," he said, finally.

"Yes?"

"I guess I'm ready for you."

"Okay." She picked up the first aid kit and entered the room.

He was sitting on the bed wearing the sweat pants. His feet were
bare and so was the wide expanse of chest. She felt her eyes
widen slightly at the sight but kept her voice steady. "So, how
does the shoulder feel this morning?"

"A little stiff." He moved it cautiously. "Everything seems to
work, though, so I don't think any serious damage was done."

"Well, I don't know if I'll be able to tell anything," she said,
"but I'm going to take the bandage off and put a fresh one on,
and in the meantime I might as well see what it looks like.
Okay?"

He gave her one of those beautiful smiles. "Okay."

She sat down behind him and began to carefully remove the
bandage.

The whole area around the bullet wound was bruised and
discolored. The puncture itself, however, appeared to have
closed sufficiently and there didn't seem to be any signs of
infection. Could Earth germs affect Superman? She didn't know,
but considering all the bleeding he'd done last night, even if
they could he'd probably washed them out of his system.

"It's looking pretty good," she said, finally. "I'm just going
to tape one of these big pads over it and I think it will be
okay."

"I'm sure it will." He turned his head to watch her work. "I
really owe you a lot over this, but I didn't know anyone else to
call that I was completely sure I could trust."

"Thank you." She smiled a little. "I won't tell anyone about the
Kryptonite, you can be sure of that. I tried to get hold of you
last night, to warn you, but it was already too late." She
patted the last piece of tape into place. "There, all done. You
can put the shirt on now."

"Thanks." He picked up the article of clothing and began to
wiggle his way into it. "Uh, Lois..."

"Hold still." She stood up and held the sleeves for him, and he
slid his arms carefully into them. She pulled it down. "Okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks again." He looked embarrassed. "Once my powers
come back, this should heal up quickly."

"You don't have any powers?"

He shook his head. "Not right now. They should come back after
while. I've only been exposed to Kryptonite once before and then
it took a couple of days to get back to normal."

"Oh. But they *will* come back?"

"I'm pretty sure they will. I don't know for sure, of course."
He looked very sober for an instant. "But what did you mean you
tried to warn me?"

"Clark and I didn't have time to listen to that tape,
yesterday--the one you retrieved for us? After my 'date' with
Lex last night, I listened to some of it. I heard him tell Mrs.
Cox to hire a hit man--let me play it for you." She went to pick
up the recorder from her dresser, and rewound the tape. "The
recorder's voice activated, so there isn't hours and hours of
nothing--there."

She pushed the "play" button and they listened to the critical
section of tape.

"I called for you, but it was too late," she said, when it had
finished. "I'm sure there's a lot more on this that we should
hear, too. I'm going to listen to the rest of it after
breakfast. Speaking of which, I have it ready in the kitchen.
Don't worry," she added, "I'm only serving cereal from a box."

He chuckled. "I'm not worried."

"Well, if you're not invulnerable, maybe you should be. Can you
make it all right?"

"I think so." He stood up carefully. "So what's on the menu this
morning?"

*******************

While they ate, Lois asked, "What happened to you last night?
John Black was supposed to take you prisoner. How did you
escape?"

"Mostly luck." He took a cautious sip of tea. "Good tea. Anyway,
I was over the south side. I've been doing more patrols of the
area recently because of all the arsons, you know. I saw the
fire literally explode, and figured it had to be a fire bomb."

"Reasonable conclusion," Lois said.

"Yeah. I flew down to investigate, and to try to put it out. I
was in the air over the building when a cop came running up. I'd
turned to get the best angle to blow it out when I heard the gun
go off."

"A *cop* shot you?"

Superman grimaced. "I doubt that he was really a police
officer."

"Probably not."

"Anyway, I was hit, and started to fall." He took another sip of
tea. "Let's say, I didn't have any illusions about what would
happen if the guy got hold of me. I guessed Luthor had to be
behind it when I realized the bullet was Kryptonite."

"You knew that day in front of the bank."

"I suspected it. Then you found that picture of Mrs. Cox with
the pendant. Clark showed me what you'd discovered and I knew
right away what it had to be. I'm sorry. I should have told
you."

"You're darned right you should have!" She glared at him for an
instant. "You should know by now that you can trust me. Clark
and I aren't going to do anything to hurt you!"

"I realize that." He smiled apologetically at her. "I *am*
sorry."

"I guess I can forgive you, if you promise not to do it again.
Anyway, after you were shot, how did you get away?"

"I was still in the air," he explained. "I had a little power
left and used it to get as far away as I could before I crashed.
It was about two blocks."

"Oh," she said. She swallowed.

"Then," he continued, unaware of her reaction to his
matter-of-fact recital, "I tried to make it to the phone, but it
took a while. I had to hide once because he showed up looking
for me. By the time I made it, I didn't have much strength left.
After that, I hid, just in case he came back. That's all. You
got there a little while later."

She smiled briefly. "Well, let's hope I don't have to do that
again. You heard what they're planning to do with John Black."

Superman nodded. "We need to find him."

Lois paused, spoon halfway to her mouth. "If we do, won't the
information about the Kryptonite come out?"

"Maybe. He isn't likely to admit what he did unless we bring it
up, though."

"Maybe not to the police, but he might brag to his friends," she
pointed out.

"Agreed, but we can't just let Luthor kill him. Besides, when
his friends see that I'm alive and unhurt they probably won't
believe him. It's pretty far fetched if you don't know the whole
story."

"True. And Lex and Mrs. Cox have good reasons not to admit
anything," Lois added. "I have an idea. I'm going to phone
Jimmy."

*******************

"Yeah," she was saying to Jimmy ten minutes later, "the guy's
name is John Black. He's been used to start a lot of the fires
in the south side in the past few weeks, including the one last
night. Do you think you and Jack can find him?"

Jimmy sounded enthusiastic. "We can sure try! Jack's got the
contacts for it."

"The guy will do any job for enough money," Lois said. "We need
some leverage with him. I'm trying to get evidence on the people
who hired him--the ones really behind the arsons."

"You mean Lex Luthor," Jimmy said, lowering his voice.

"Jimmy, how did you--"

"Let's say I've heard a few rumors," Jimmy said. "Besides, I
know CK doesn't trust him."

"Yeah, well don't say that out loud again if you want to stay
healthy," Lois cautioned. "And be careful. There's a good chance
Luthor may try to eliminate him after last night. He knows too
much."

"Gotcha," Jack's voice said. He was on the conference room
extension. "Leave it to us. We'll call you back when we've got
something. This is gonna be fun."

********************

The rest of the tape contained no remarks about Superman. There
was one comment from Mrs. Cox indicating that Black had been
contacted and had accepted the assignment, and Lex had
authorized the release of four K-tipped bullets to him. Lois and
Superman looked at each other at that revelation, but neither
commented. Several other conversations were apparently in
reference to various business ventures and tactics to use in
securing the desired results. Lois took notes.

Around noon, Lois gave her houseguest a lift over to Clark
Kent's apartment. Superman hadn't wanted to impose on her a
second night, and told her that Clark would let him stay at his
place as long as he needed to. Lois, who had her own plans for
the afternoon, was willing to oblige.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes. The last time I ran into this stuff, it took
about two days to wear off. Besides--" he looked at the tape
recorder, "something tells me I should keep a low profile for
awhile."

"At least until we can get hold of the other three bullets,"
Lois agreed. "And Lex may have more Kryptonite, too. We don't
know how much there originally was." She added, "There isn't any
chance anyone can see the recorder, is there?"

He shook his head. "No. Clark told me it had to be within five
hundred feet on a line of sight from the microphone, if
possible. I put it on the ledge that runs around the Moritomi
Building, about ten feet down from the roof. It's completely out
of sight, and only about four hundred feet away from Lex Tower.
It'll be safe until I can recover it."

"That's a relief," Lois said. "It's Saturday, so he probably
won't conduct much business today, anyway."

"Probably not," Superman agreed. "Lois, you *are* being careful
around Luthor, aren't you? The man's perfectly capable of
killing you if he thinks you've betrayed him."

"Yes, I am," she said, reassuringly. "But we need to gather the
information quickly."

"Why?"

"Well..." She glanced up at his face. Why, she questioned
herself again, why hadn't she recognized him as Clark long ago?
The half-comical, half-worried expression on his face at just
that moment was so...so *Clark*! "He asked me to marry him last
night."

"*What*?!"

"Yeah," Lois said.

"You didn't accept, did you? I mean, in order to keep in contact
with him or anything?"

"Of course not!" she said, indignantly. "I don't think I could
stomach it, to tell you the truth. I told him I needed time to
think about it. But I won't be able to stall him very long."

"No, I can see that." Superman frowned. "Well, Jimmy and Jack
may come up with something, and you have those other leads, too.
After tomorrow, we'll have the next tape. If we can pin these
arsons on him we'll have a pretty good start."

Lois nodded. "I agree. Well, are you ready?"

He smiled wryly. "I guess."

"We'll take it slow," Lois said. "If you need to, just hang onto
me, Okay?"

"Okay."

"You're sure Clark won't mind if you come in while he's gone? I
tried calling a while ago and got his answering machine."

He hesitated, started to say something, and apparently changed
his mind. "He won't mind. We're friends."

I'll bet, she thought, but that hesitation and the look on his
face stayed in her mind. What had he been going to say?

She opened the door to the hall and they exited the apartment.
One of the older tenants was passing by with a bag of groceries
in her arms, and the once-over she gave Clark, then the one of
combined envy and disapproval for Lois was one for the books,
Lois thought. As they made their slow way toward the elevator,
she couldn't help the chuckle that escaped.

"What?" Superman asked.

"Mrs. Adams," Lois said, by way of explanation. "She's the
biggest gossip in the building."

"Is my being here going to cause you trouble?" he asked,
obviously concerned.

"No. It may enhance my reputation, though. Did you see her look
you over?" They paused by the elevator and Lois rang for the
car. He glanced after the retreating tenant.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "I'm of age. Who I have in my
apartment is nobody's business but mine."

The elevator doors opened at that moment and they boarded. Mrs.
Tracewski, the manager's wife, was in the car. She glanced at
Lois, then looked Clark frankly up and down. "Hello, Ms. Lane.
Is this a friend of yours?"

"Yes," Lois said. "Mrs. Tracewski, this is, um..."

Clark stuck out a hand. "Kal," he told her. "Pleased to meet
you."

The plump, little woman shook Clark's hand and looked at Lois
with a distinct twinkle in her eye. "He's a nice, big boy," she
told Lois. "Good grip, too. I like him."

Clark, Lois noticed, was rapidly turning an interesting shade of
pink, which undoubtedly convinced Mrs. Tracewski of the truth of
her assumptions. Well, after all, Clark *had* spent the night in
her bed...alone, and definitely not in any shape to think of
anything but sleep. Oh, well, maybe some day...Maybe she'd keep
the toothbrush, just in case.

*******************

After Clark entered his apartment, using the spare key that he
kept on the ledge above the door, she returned to the Jeep. She
had business to take care of, and Clark wasn't in any shape to
help, even if he didn't object--which she was sure he would, if
he knew about it. That was why she hadn't told him.

She returned to her apartment for a change of clothing and the
supplies she might need. The Moritomi Building was open on
Saturday, although the traffic through it was considerably
lighter than during the week. Getting in, wearing a generic,
white coverall and cap, and carrying a toolbox, elicited no
attention from anyone.

She rode the elevator to the roof, stepped out onto the gritty
surface and looked around.

It was a cloudy day and rain had been threatening since last
night. The breeze was damp, this far up, and brisk; occasional
gusts threatened the hat she had jammed down tightly over her
head.

Orienting herself by the position of Lex Tower, four hundred
feet away, she removed a small pair of binoculars from the
toolbox.

At the edge of the roof, she lifted the binoculars to her eyes
and scanned the ledge running a mere ten feet below her for a
small, black recorder. There it was, about forty feet to her
right. She lowered the binoculars, unable to believe her luck.
Superman had placed the recorder against the wall under a small,
decorative protrusion, which rendered it virtually invisible to
observers unless, like her, they were specifically looking for
it. But, barely ten feet away, a fire escape ran down the side
of the building. That made her job easier.

She double-checked her pockets. The batteries and replacement
tape were secure in one zippered pocket. She replaced the
binoculars in the tool kit and removed a coil of nylon rope.
This should do nicely. She'd figured she might have to do some
climbing, but the fire escape's presence was a stroke of luck.
Quickly and neatly, she descended the metal ladder until she was
at the level of the ledge. Careful not to look past it to the
drop below, she tied her rope to the railing of the fire escape,
then knotted it a second time for security. The other end she
looped around her waist and knotted it twice as well. Clark
always complained that she took too many unnecessary chances.
Well, this time he wouldn't be able to say that.

Cautiously, she made her way onto the ledge. It felt narrower
than it had seemed when looking at it from above. It must be,
she assured herself, at least eighteen inches wide. If she was
careful there should be no difficulty, as long as she didn't
look down. The recorder was barely ten feet away. This should be
a piece of cake.

Well, she amended, a few minutes later and a couple of feet
farther along the ledge, if not a piece of cake, at least not
very hard. For a second she let her gaze slide past the ledge to
the drop beyond. Hastily, she brought her focus back to the
stone surface in front of her, breathing hard. She was still
there!

If she decided against this now, a small portion of her brain
pointed out, she could back up, reach the safety of the fire
escape, and then wait until tomorrow for Clark to retrieve the
tape.

But, another part pointed out, that might be too late. Even if
she slipped, the rope would catch her, and her goal was now only
eight feet away. She edged forward another inch, pressing hard
against the wall to her left.

Moving one hand or one knee at a time, she crept forward by
inches, eyes fixed on the ornamental projection beneath which
Superman had placed the recorder. One foot, two, three...She
moved slowly, cautiously, making sure each hand and knee
placement was secure before lifting the next to edge forward
another fraction of an inch.

It seemed to take hours, and the ledge seemed to grow narrower
by the second, but her goal moved slowly but steadily nearer,
and at last the projection was within reach.

Moving slowly and with great care, she unzipped the pocket which
held the new tape and batteries, then she slipped the tiny
recorder from its hiding place and pressed the lever that popped
open the top. Delicately, she removed the tiny microtape,
slipped it into her breast pocket and zipped the pocket closed.
Still moving by fractions of an inch, she substituted the new
tape for the old and closed the little compartment. She drew a
deep breath. Next, the batteries.

The compartment that held the recorder's batteries stuck for an
instant, and she felt perspiration break out on her forehead in
spite of the chilly breeze, as she tugged one-handed at the
catch. Her balance was precarious at best; she couldn't make any
sudden move or she could upset it and fall. True, the rope was
there, but this far above the street and this far from the fire
escape, her trust in it was less complete than it had been on
solid footing. Funny how much farther ten feet could seem from
this position than from the safety of the fire escape. Besides,
if she fell, she could lose the recorder.

The catch came free. Drawing a deep breath, she removed the old
batteries, stored them in the pocket, and took out the new ones.
Batteries were small, but if one fell from this height anyone
struck by the object could very well be seriously hurt or
killed. One by one she slipped the new batteries into place and,
with a gasp of relief, snapped the cover shut. In another
second, the tiny recorder had been replaced beneath the
projection.

Now, to back up.

She began her backward trip, moving a fraction of an inch at a
time. Her heart was pounding suffocatingly in her chest.

When she had planned this earlier, it hadn't seemed nearly as
intimidating as the actual deed. Once more she made the mistake
of looking down and froze in sheer terror. Quickly, she brought
her gaze back to the ledge.

She couldn't even look around to see how far away the fire
escape was, for fear of upsetting her very unstable balance. All
she could do was to back up, inch by agonizing inch.

A drop of rain hit her cheek. That drop was only the precursor,
for to her dismay, the drops began to patter around her,
striking the ledge, the wall beside her, everywhere. Water hit
her in the eyes and she didn't dare reach up to wipe it away. A
gust of wind blew a flurry of drops into her face and she
gasped, sucking in water. She choked, coughed...

And felt herself slip. She grasped desperately for something to
hold to and only succeeded in further destabilizing her
position.

Then she was falling. Only a tremendous exercise of will
prevented her from screaming. She grasped the nylon rope with
fingers gone stiff from the chill and tension, desperately
hoping it would save her now. The last thing she saw was the
fire escape coming at her like an express train, and then her
head struck the metal railing with a burst of stars. The lights
went out.

********************

The first thing Lois was aware of was a blinding headache. The
fact that she seemed to be swinging back and forth in the air,
and being splatted by large drops of water didn't help, either,
and the ringing in her ears made it worse.

Something about the situation seemed vaguely wrong, but with the
pain in her head and the nausea roiling in her stomach, it was
hard to think.

She wasn't going to open her eyes yet, she decided, firmly, not
until she'd figured out what she was doing here. If some villain
was behind this...no, now memory was coming back between the
waves of pain and nausea. She'd come up here after the tape, and
there had been the ledge. She'd fallen, and the rope had saved
her. That must be what was cutting painfully into her middle as
she swung back and forth in the cold breeze. She'd hit the
railing of the fire escape; that was it.

Well, she'd certainly hit something. She opened her eyes, only
to close them again at the sight that met her eyes. After a long
count of ten, she opened them a second time.

She was hanging by her waist from the twenty-foot length of rope
tied to the fire escape, and staring down at least a hundred
stories at the pavement so far below that the cars looked like
toys and the people, ants.

Her vision had a disturbing tendency to blur on her but, from
what she could see, no one had noticed her; at least there was
no crowd gathered below. She rotated slowly at the end of her
rope. Something red ran across her face and dripped off her nose
to fall like a scarlet raindrop toward the ground. Blood. She
must have cut herself when she hit her head.

Her body slowly rotated, and her hand struck metal. The fire
escape. She grasped the railing and hauled herself toward the
thing, hooked one foot on a rung and pulled herself upright.

The sudden change of position caused her head to swim alarmingly
and her stomach abruptly revolted. She began to retch, clinging
desperately to the fire escape.

When the waves of nausea receded, she looked cautiously up.

Thirty feet above her was the roof. She had descended ten feet
to the ledge, and the rope was a good twenty feet long beyond
that. The distance looked impossible to her, but she couldn't
stay here. Shaking in every limb, she began to climb.

Her progress was painfully slow. She had to stop every few rungs
to close her eyes against the dizziness, which accompanied every
motion of her head, and her vision would blur, clear and blur
again. Nausea made her stop several times to retch. Dimly, she
recalled an article she had read somewhere that had detailed the
symptoms of a concussion. They matched.

Resting every couple of rungs, she climbed. Blood ran into her
eyes, mixed with rainwater and she wiped it away. She must be a
real mess, she reflected grimly. Well, one step at a time.
First, she had to get her feet on solid ground and then she
would deal with the other problems.

At last she crawled over the edge of the roof and sank down on
the rough surface, resting her head back against the low wall
that ran around the roof. The big drops of rain fell, not that
it mattered. She couldn't possibly get wetter if she tried.
Runnels of blood mixed with the water ran onto the saturated,
formerly white coverall. Her vision blurred again, then cleared
slowly. She began to shiver as the effects of her exertion
started to wear off, now that she was safely on the roof. No
matter how much she wished to simply stay here, she had to move.
Slowly, she got to her feet, picked up the toolbox and started
for the door to the elevator.

A tug at her waist stopped her. She had completely forgotten to
remove the rope. With fingers that felt like limp spaghetti, she
tugged at the knot.

The rope was wet and she had tied it tight in the beginning; at
first, she made no progress at all. Finally, she recalled the
pocketknife she kept in the tool kit, opened the box and found
it.

Getting it open wasn't easy. She had already torn two nails in
her attempts to loosen the rope, but at last, and at the cost of
a torn thumbnail as well, she managed to open the large blade
and, after fumbling a little, the rope around her waist fell
away.

Not even bothering to close the knife, she thrust it back into
the tool kit, closed it and started for the elevator again. If
she ran into anyone, she'd just tell him she'd had an accident
and was going to the emergency room.

That was it. Something seemed wrong with that, but she was in no
condition to think too hard about it.

The elevator arrived at last, mercifully empty, and she boarded.
The sudden cessation of the cold rain and gusts of wind was
almost disorienting in itself; her head swam unpleasantly and
she had to grasp the safety rail to stay on her feet when the
car went into motion.

The elevator went to the ground floor without pausing; that was
strange, she thought, and glanced at her watch. It was half past
six. The Moritomi Building had closed half an hour ago.
Considering that she had arrived about one thirty, between the
time on the ledge, the time she had spent unconscious and her
slow climb up the ladder, almost five hours had passed. She only
hoped she could figure out how to get out of here without much
trouble. She wasn't in any shape for anything complicated.

As it happened, an elderly janitor was in the lobby when the
elevator arrived on the ground floor. He turned at the sound of
the doors opening and stared at her in shock. "What happened?"

"I was doing work on the roof," Lois said. Her voice sounded
hoarse and cracked. "I slipped and knocked myself out. Can you
let me out?"

"Do you want me to call 911" the man asked, staring at her
blood-streaked face in fascination.

"No, thanks. I'm...my assistant is with the truck. He'll drive
me to the emergency room to get this stitched up," she managed,
aware of how strange she sounded. "It was my own fault. Would
you please let me out?"

"If you're sure you don't need help..."

"It looks much worse than it is," Lois assured him. "Scalp
wounds bleed a lot more than you'd think."

"Yeah, I guess..." The old man went to the door and took out a
big bunch of keys. "Okay, here you go. You go straight to the
doctor, now."

"I will. I feel so stupid about this." She made her way out the
doors and down the steps, trying to walk as steadily as she
could. The Jeep was parked around the corner and all she could
think of was to get to it and sit down. If the guy had second
thoughts and called the cops she didn't want to be anywhere they
could find her.

Her head was still swimming unpleasantly and the last half block
was accomplished more by sheer determination than anything else.
Her keys were in one zipped pocket and her fingers were so stiff
she almost couldn't unzip it to get at them, then she almost
dropped the ring while trying to fit the key into the lock. In a
way, the rain was fortunate for her; between that and the dusk
that was beginning to fall, no one gave her more than a cursory
glance as she struggled with the lock. At last the door swung
open and she clambered inside.

The cab of the Jeep was only marginally warmer than the air
outside, but at least it was dry. She leaned forward, crossed
her arms on the wheel and leaned her head on them. There was no
way she could drive like this. Like it or not, she was going to
have to call for help.

Her cell phone was in the map pouch on the driver's door, close
to her foot. She retrieved it with stiff fingers and pushed the
speed dial for Clark's phone.

If she had been thinking more clearly, she would probably have
called someone else, but she wasn't. Her instinct when she was
in trouble was to call him, whatever guise he happened to be in.
After three rings her partner's voice answered. "Hello?"

"Clark?" she rasped.

"Lois? What's wrong?" His voice was instantly sharp with
anxiety.

"I need help," she whispered.

"Where are you?"

Her head was throbbing as if it were being beaten with a
sledgehammer. "Moritomi...Building."

"Stay where you are!" he commanded. "I'll be there as fast as I
can!"

She was awakened, sometime later, by someone opening her door.
Clark's horrified face was staring at her.

"Good Lord, Lois! What happened?"

She blinked at him, dazed. "I...fell."

"Off what? The building? No, never mind. Can you move to the
other seat? No, let me help you."

With his assistance, she moved clumsily into the passenger seat.
Clark leaned across her and pushed the lever to tilt it back,
then, when she relaxed back into a semi-reclining position with
a sigh of relief, he pulled the seat belt across her shoulder
and lap. "Sit still. I'm going to drive you to the emergency
room. Where's your keys? Oh, wait a minute--" He retrieved them
from the door lock. She heard the door slam and the engine start
up, but was content to lie back in the seat, eyes closed against
the anvil chorus playing inside her head, as the Jeep moved out
into traffic.

She was aware of the swaying of the vehicle and Clark's voice as
he drove, speaking to her.

"Lois, wake up! You mustn't go to sleep on me!"

"Mm awake," she murmured. "My head hurts."

"I'll bet." Her partner sounded scared. "Stay awake, okay? The
traffic's pretty heavy. It's rush hour. What happened?"

She didn't answer, preferring to lie back, eyes closed.

"Lois!"

"I'm awake," she managed, startled into full wakefulness by his
voice. "Sorry." She opened her eyes and turned her head gingerly
to see him squinting through rain-blurred glass at the oncoming
headlights, distorted into multi-colored rainbow patterns by the
pelting rain. It was dark. Where had the sunlight gone?

"What happened to you?" he demanded.

She closed her eyes again. "I went to get the tape," she said.

"You *what*?"

"I went to get the tape. Lex already tried to kill Superman
once. I was afraid he'd try something else, so I went to get it.
I tied a rope to the fire escape in case I slipped."

"I guess you slipped," Clark said. His voice sounded shaken.

She nodded, and winced at the pain that instantly shot through
her head. "I must have hit my head on the fire escape. I sort of
remember."

"Good grief, Lois, what were you thinking?"

Lois lifted a hand to feel her forehead gingerly. The skin was
sticky with drying blood. "I needed to know what Lex was up to,"
she said in a small voice.

"Lois, Superman can take care of himself. He wouldn't like you
taking this kind of risk for him."

"It's not just Superman," Lois said. "It's you, too. I don't
trust Lex. I've only just begun to realize what he's capable of,
and it scares me." She felt the tears she had suppressed until
now begin to leak from her eyes.

"Lois!" Clark's voice sounded horrified. "Don't cry! I didn't
mean to upset you!"

She wiped her face, opening her eyes to see his distressed
expression. They were in a line of traffic stopped by a red
light. Rain streaked the windows.

"I'm sorry." She made an effort to reassure him. "I didn't mean
to cry; it's just my head hurts, and I didn't get much sleep
last night. Lex asked me to marry him at dinner, and I'm...I'm
afraid of what he might do."

"I understand," he said. "I won't say any more. Just lie back,
close your eyes and relax, okay?"

"Okay." She reached out and grasped his hand. "Clark?"

"Yeah?" He still looked worried.

"Thanks for coming."

"You needed help," he said, quietly. "That was all that
mattered."

"Oh, Clark." She squeezed his hand lightly. "What did I ever do
to deserve someone like you?"

**********

"I really think you should have stayed for observation," Clark
protested for the fourth time as he helped her into the
passenger seat of the Jeep, some three hours later.

"Clark, it's nothing! You know how I hate people poking and
prodding me," she replied. "I'll be fine."

"But you have a concussion!" Clark closed the door and hurried
around to the driver's side. "That's hardly nothing! I'm going
to stay with you until your mother gets there, anyway."

She gingerly felt the place on her scalp where they had cut her
hair in order to put in six stitches. "My mom's in Albuquerque,
visiting her best friend from college."

"But you told the doctor--"

"Oh, that was so they'd let me go," she said, airily. "I'll be
fine."

"Lo-is!" Her partner looked sternly at her. "In that case,
you're coming home with me. You've got to have somebody with
you."

She opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. It
might not be such a bad idea after all. "Okay," she said,
meekly.

He glanced sideways at her, and one dark eyebrow went up. "No
arguments?"

"No." She was careful not to shake her head. "You're right.
Besides, I'd rather be with you than anybody else."

He looked a little surprised. "Really?"

"Sure." This time she wasn't even surprised at herself to
realize that she meant it.

"Okay. Then you just take it easy," Clark told her, sternly.
"We'll go past your apartment and I'll go in and pick you up a
change of clothes and something to wear tonight. You can tell me
what to look for. As for you, you're not lifting a finger. Is
that clear?"

She smiled. "If you say so. Really, I'll be good."

"See to it that you do," he said. "You really scared me this
evening."

No more than you scared me last night, she wanted to say, but
didn't. She relaxed back into the seat. Her head still hurt,
though not as fiercely as earlier, and she was just as happy she
didn't have to move around much. Clark seemed to have improved a
good deal since this morning, too, although she noticed he still
moved his right shoulder with caution.

The stop by her apartment didn't take long; he picked up jeans
and a blouse for her, and even a change of underthings, although
from his expression she expected to see Superman break a sweat
when she mentioned her need for those. He also found her a pair
of flannel pajamas, suitable for the chilly fall weather, as
well as a robe and the fuzzy slippers Lucy had given her for her
last birthday. They stopped by his favorite all night deli to
pick up thick sandwiches for dinner, then he drove them to his
apartment. By that time it was past eleven, and Lois was
half-asleep when they pulled up at the apartment house.

Inside, he sent her into the bathroom for a hot shower to
counteract the soaking she had experienced earlier, although she
was long since dry, while he busied himself in the kitchen. When
she emerged some ten minutes later, in pajamas, robe and
slippers, he had the food and two tall glasses of milk ready for
them both.

Lois sank onto the sofa with a sigh of relief and picked up the
hearty sandwich. Her stomach had been rumbling for the past
hour. She was only glad that Clark's super-hearing was probably
still not working, so he was unlikely to hear it. She sank her
teeth into the sandwich and chewed rapturously. "This is good.
Why do you always know the best places for food in Metropolis?"

"Just lucky, I guess." He, too, took a large bite of sandwich.
What was it Superman had told her once? "I don't have to eat,
but I like to," or something like that. Well, judging from his
appetite, he liked very much to eat. It was a good thing he was
Superman or he'd have had weight problems by now. Clark was, in
many respects, a very normal guy if you discounted the super
powers, she reflected in sudden understanding. He wanted to be
normal; that was why being his real self, as Clark Kent, was so
important to him. Clark Kent was his key to fitting in, being
like everyone else, rather than the alien who could lift rockets
into orbit and swallow bombs. He was also the most fun to be
around. How could you have a relationship with Superman, always
serious, always with his mind on his duty? But Clark laughed and
joked with her, teased her when she was feeling down; Clark was
the real, three-dimensional person with strengths and flaws, and
more humanity than some truly human men she knew. Falling in
love with Clark Kent wouldn't be a difficult thing at all. Not
when the job had already been mostly accomplished before she'd
become aware of it.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice broke through her
thoughts.

"Not much," she said, untruthfully. "Do you have a tape player
around here? I'd like to hear what's on that thing I went
through all this for."

"Sure." He rose and disappeared into the bedroom. A moment later
he returned with the requested item. "Will this do?"

"Yeah." She produced the microtape. "Let's see what we've got."

The first conversation revolved around some business venture,
followed by another, which aroused more interest in both
listeners.

"What do you think," Mrs. Cox's voice said, "of using Black for
the other assignment as well?"

"That's a possibility," Lex's voice said, briskly. "As long as
it's done quickly. There would only be one tool to dispose of
afterward, and that much less inconvenience. Very well, do it."

"Yes, sir." The ringing of a phone interrupted Mrs. Cox's voice.
A moment later she said, "There's a Mr. Simon Truesdale on line
two, sir."

"Ah, yes. I'll take it here." A pause. "Mr. Truesdale, so nice
to hear from you. Have you thought about my offer?" Another,
longer pause. "I'm sorry to hear that." A faint chill had crept
into his voice. "Are you certain you won't reconsider? I have
had some information from a confidential source that the
Planet's advertisers may soon be switching their accounts to
other papers. I'd appreciate it if you'd think about it a little
longer. Perhaps we can discuss this again in a couple of weeks.
Excellent. I'll speak with you then. Goodbye."

"The Planet?" Lois whispered. "What--"

"Sh!" Clark leaned forward. "Listen."

"What will you do if their Board of Directors won't cooperate?"
Mrs. Cox's voice asked.

"They will," Lex's voice said. "All I need to do is determine
their price. Come, Mrs. Cox. I believe you and I had plans..."
The voices faded away, and then there was a faint click on the
tape, indicating that time had passed.

Mrs. Cox's voice was speaking as the voices approached. "Black
reports that he was definitely hit, Lex, but he apparently
propelled himself for some distance before he came down. Black
hunted, and the other team did as well, but they weren't able to
find him. There was a good deal of confusion because of the
fire. He may have dragged himself off somewhere."

"But there's been no sign of him since." Lex's voice sounded
faintly annoyed. "Well, if my informant was correct, it may not
matter. Retain the cage, in any case. If he does survive, we may
have a use for it yet."

"Of course, Lex."

Lex's voice became very businesslike. "Have the area searched
again. Tell them to be sure they go over it inch by inch. In the
meantime, I have other things to occupy my attention. What's the
status report on Kent?"

"He apparently didn't come home last night," Mrs. Cox said.

"Hmm." There was a creaking sound as Lex apparently settled into
his desk chair. "In that case he'll just have to try again. He's
to be sure there are no witnesses. It must look like a
suicide."

"Of course, Lex. Or, it could be a mugging that turns fatal."

"Only as a last resort," Lex said. "A mugging might be
investigated more thoroughly by his partner. Ms. Lane isn't to
be given any cause for suspicion, is that clear?"

"Of course, Lex," Mrs. Cox's voice said, sweetly. "Tell me, is
one woman really worth all this?"

"One woman?" Lex's voice held a faint coldness. "No, of course
not. But Lois Lane? Definitely. You needn't fear, Mrs. Cox. It
won't change our relationship in the least. Lois need never
know. Still, I must overcome her reluctance to accept my
proposal, and that means I must remove my rivals in her
affections as expeditiously as possible."

"Superman?" Mrs. Cox asked.

"Yes. As well as her partner, Kent. And the Daily Planet.
Sometimes I think Kent may be the most critical of the three.
Tell Black to report back to me at once when his assignment is
completed, and then you know what to do about him."

"Of course," Mrs. Cox murmured.

The conversation shifted then, to a discussion regarding
offshore accounts, but Lois was staring at Clark in sheer
horror. "Clark! He's going to try to kill you!"

Clark moved over beside her and slipped an arm around her
shoulders. "Don't worry. He won't be able to. Not now that we're
warned."

"He must have been watching your apartment!"

Clark nodded. "I was out all last night," he said. "If he's
watching tonight, he saw me come in with you. You heard what
Luthor said. No witnesses. He won't do anything tonight."

"He's going after the Planet, too," she whispered.

"Yeah. He must be trying to destroy your support structure, so
you'll go to him," Clark said, slowly. "That sounds like his
style."

Lois stared at him, stricken. "Maybe I should tell him I'll
marry him. Then he'd stop."

"I doubt it," Clark said. "I think he wants to be sure you don't
have anything to go back to. Never underestimate him. I don't
think I've ever met someone more completely evil in my life than
Luthor."

She shivered. Clark put his arms around her and held her close.
"I won't let him harm you, no matter what," he said, quietly. "I
promise."

They sat there for some time, listening to the tape run through.
There were more conversations, mostly regarding various business
ventures, and one status report on the attempt to acquire the
remaining property on the south side at fire sale prices, as it
was humorously referred to.

At last, Clark switched it off.

"We'll listen to the rest tomorrow," he said, firmly. "You need
your sleep. It's past one. I shouldn't have let this go on so
long."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep," Lois said. "Clark..."

"Yes, you will," he said. "You're sleeping in the bedroom
tonight. I'll take the sofa, and if anyone tries to come in,
I'll make him sorry he was ever born." He got to his feet,
drawing her with him, and steered her toward the bedroom. "Come
on, you're worn out."

"I can't take your bed!"

"Yes you can," he informed her, calmly. "Doctor's orders."

"What doctor?" she asked suspiciously.

"Dr. Kent. Don't argue. Besides, it'll be just as well if I
don't sleep too soundly. I'll be coming in every now and then to
check on you, to be sure I can wake you up. And nobody's getting
in here without my knowing it."

Somewhat reassured, she allowed him to lead her into the
bedroom, and a short time later, the apartment lights went out
except for a small, reading light in the living area.

Lois lay back in Clark's bed, watching the multicolored lights
from the window play across the ceiling. Her head still hurt,
and the revelations on the tape churned about in her brain, but
the pain was more a dull throbbing now than a heavy pounding,
and Clark's words had insensibly reassured her. Together they
would stop Lex before he could do what he was planning.

She shifted about. Clark's bed was comfortable, but the aches
and bruises kept her from relaxing completely. After a time, she
drifted off into an uneasy slumber where once again she crawled
along the ledge. Ahead of her was the recorder with the tape,
which somehow suddenly became Clark, and behind her she knew
that Lex waited, smiling, with a chunk of something green and
glowing in his hands. She tried to reach Clark, but he retreated
ahead of her, while behind her, Lex was coming closer, and she
tried to hurry. Suddenly she was slipping, grasping for the
ledge, which turned to nothing under her fingers. She felt
herself falling and screamed...

And was sitting up in bed in the dark with a cry of terror on
her lips. Where was she? For a moment she was unable to separate
the dream images from reality, and when a shadowy figure loomed
in the doorway, she gasped.

"It's just me," Clark said.

"Clark?"

"Yeah. You're at my place after your accident, remember? Are you
okay?"

She drew in a breath and tried to calm her pounding heart.
"Yeah. I had a nightmare."

"I figured. I was coming to check on you and heard you scream."
He sat down on the side of the bed. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I think so," she said. "I was dreaming. I was trying to get to
you on the ledge, I think. Lex was behind me, and I slipped..."
She shivered. "It doesn't make much sense, now, but for some
reason it scared me half to death."

"Well, you're safe now. Lie back down; you need your sleep. It's
nearly five. The sun will be up in another hour. I'll be right
in the next room if you need me."

"No...." She reached out and caught his hand as he started to
stand up. "Stay here with me."

"Huh?" He sounded slightly startled. "You want me here?"

"There's room enough for both of us," she said. "I'll feel safer
with you than by myself."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she said. "I know it's silly, but..."

"No, not silly." His voice was low. "All right."

"Thanks, Clark."

He lifted the edge of the blanket and slipped in next to her.
"No funny business, now," he said, with a slight chuckle. "Just
sleep."

She found herself laughing softly. Leave it to Clark to defuse a
potentially embarrassing situation.

"I promise," she said, solemnly. "Just sleep. Your virtue is
safe for now."

She turned slightly, as if it was the most natural thing in the
world and snuggled into the curve of his body. He was wearing
sweats, she noticed as he put his arm over her. Naturally. He
wouldn't want her to see the bandage on his back. The thought
that she was cuddling up next to Superman--something she could
only dream about a little over a week ago--crossed her mind
briefly, only to be dismissed. Far more importantly, this was
Clark, her best friend and trustworthy protector.

Almost instantly, she felt herself relaxing and within less than
a minute she was asleep.

******************

It was the sound of someone knocking on the door the next
morning that woke Lois. She opened her eyes and glanced at the
other side of the bed.

Clark was gone, although the indentation of his head was still
on the pillow. The alarm clock on his nightstand said 08:35.

She smiled to herself. After Clark had gotten in with her, she'd
slept soundly, and if there had been any dreams, she couldn't
remember them. Maybe that should tell her something, she mused.

The knocking came again, followed by Clark's quick, light
footsteps across the living area and the sound of an opening
door.

"Hi, CK!" Jimmy's voice said. "We got it!"

"Sh," Clark's voice was kept low. "Come on in, both of you, but
keep your voices down. Lois is asleep."

Silence. Clark added, quickly, "It's not what it sounds like.
She was in an accident yesterday and I insisted she stay here in
case she needed help."

"Is she okay?" Jimmy asked.

"Yeah. She got some bruises, but the doctors at the emergency
room thought she'd be all right." There was the sound of a door
closing quietly. "Just try to be quiet. She needs all the rest
she can get."

Lois got out of bed and grabbed her robe and slippers.
Undignified or not, she wanted to hear this. Wrapping the robe
around her and jamming her feet into the slippers, Lois padded
out of the bedroom.

"Clark?" she called, "is that Jimmy and Jack?"

"Yeah." Clark turned as she entered the living area. "How do you
feel this morning?"

She rubbed a tender place on her ribs. "Sore. I never realized
before how many muscles the human body has. I can count them
individually, now." She caught Jimmy's stunned expression.
"What's the matter?"

"CK wasn't kidding! Wow!"

"You have a black eye," Clark said, "and a bruise down the side
of your face."

"Not to mention six stitches in my scalp," Lois said, dryly.
"I'm going to have to change my hairstyle until it grows out."

"What happened?" Jack asked. "You get mugged?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe it," Clark said. "Come on
into the kitchen. You can have some coffee while we talk."

"That'd be great.

It's a little chilly out this morning," Jimmy said.

The four of them trailed into the kitchen and Clark poured
coffee all around.

"The cream's in the little pitcher," he told them. "Here." He
handed her a small container. "I made a trip to the corner
grocery this morning for your non-fat creamer and sweetener."

"That was nice of you."

"No problem." He finally sank into one of the kitchen chairs.
"So, guys, what have you got for us?"

"We found John Black this morning," Jack said. "He was coming
back from somewhere. We talked to him and his brother, Pete,
about a job, and Jimmy got it all on tape."

Jimmy held up the tiny recorder. "You were right, by the
way--they'll do just about anything that they're paid to
do...break in, plant explosives...just like they've been doing
on the south side for a woman named Mrs. Cox, in the last
several months--burning out businesses. That includes the one
night before last. A couple of transients died in that one. He
even gave us her number as a reference."

Lois's eyes met Clark's. "We've got her."

"Looks like it. Good work, guys." Clark clapped Jimmy lightly on
the back. "I want you to take this straight to Inspector
Henderson. He'll be very interested in meeting Mr. Black and his
brother--what's his name again...Pete?"

"Yeah. He's about my age." Jack sounded disgusted. "What a
loser!"

"Assuming Lex doesn't have them killed before Henderson finds
them," Lois said.

"I doubt it. He hasn't killed me, yet," Clark said, calmly.
"Superman and I listened to the rest of our tape this morning,
Lois. There was one more conversation between Lex and Mrs.
Cox--all about financial inducements to the Daily Planet's Board
of Directors. I made a copy. I think Henderson should hear it,
too."

Lois nodded, and winced at the instant protest of sore neck
muscles. "So do I."

"I'll get it," Clark said. He returned with the microtape a
moment later. "Here you are."

Jimmy took it and stuck it in his pocket with the other one.
"Was this what you wanted that stuff for?"

"Yeah," Clark said. "Get it to Henderson, now. Lois and I need
to see a certain Mr. Simon Truesdale as soon as he gets out of
church, about Lex Luthor's offer to buy the Planet."

When the two had gone, Lois said," Luthor wants to buy the
Planet? Was that what that conversation with Truesdale was
about?"

"Yeah. It was made pretty clear in the last conversation. My
guess is it's a step in one of his schemes. He did say he had to
eliminate his rivals for you, remember."

"How could I forget?" She shivered involuntarily. "I feel like
I'm the prey in some kind of perverted hunt. We have to stop
him."

"We will," Clark said.

"How's Superman, by the way?" she asked. "I forgot to ask
yesterday, with everything that happened, but if you talked to
him this morning you must know how he's doing. Have his powers
come back, yet?"

"Not yet, but he's feeling much better," Clark said. "In case
you're wondering, it was his idea to send a copy of the tape to
Henderson. There's that one, small reference of Mrs. Cox about
Black shooting Superman, but they didn't name any names. I don't
think it will give away anything."

"I think you're right." She finished her coffee and stood up.
"I'm going to shower and dress. I'd like to stop by my apartment
for something a little more professional if we're going to call
on Mr. Truesdale."

"Sure. I'll finish getting breakfast in the meantime. Are bacon
and eggs okay?"

"Fine. And, Clark--"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being such a great friend."

He smiled briefly. "You're welcome, Lois. Any time you need your
big brother to help--"

She turned, suddenly serious. "I haven't thought of you as any
kind of brother for quite awhile. It's just as well I really
*did* have a headache last night." And with that, she hurried
toward the bedroom to hide her instinctive blush, leaving him
staring after her with his mouth open.

Breakfast was an uncharacteristically quiet meal. Clark seemed
preoccupied, and Lois guessed he was thinking over her remark to
him. She probably shouldn't have said it, but it was true and it
was out, now. Maybe it would shake him out of his "best friend
and partner" mode. She still remembered what she had seen on his
face in one unguarded instant that morning he'd told her about
Lex. If that was really how he felt about her, things could get
very interesting if he decided to act on his feelings.

The thought of marriage to Lex, before she had known about his
true character, had crossed her mind occasionally, but it had
never been accompanied by the thrill that ran through her when
she contemplated that state with Clark. He might not be a
billionaire, but she had no doubt how he felt about her, and it
had been gradually dawning on her for some time now that she
didn't want a life without Clark Kent in it.

When they finished breakfast, Lois stood and gathered the
dishes. "I'll take care of these while you change. It'll only
take a few minutes. Then we can drive over to my place."

He looked at her soberly. "Did you really mean what you said
awhile ago?"

She glanced up at him and then back at the sink that she was
filling with water. "Yes."

He drew a long breath. "After we've spoken with Mr. Truesdale,
you and I need to talk, too."

"Okay," she said. She looked quickly at him and back at the
sudsy water. "The quicker we get this done--"

"Right." He turned and hurried toward the bedroom.

A short time later, they were walking out to the Jeep. Clark
offered her the keys. "Do you want to drive?"

"You go ahead," she said. "I'm still pretty sore. Besides, the
doctor told me I shouldn't drive for a few days after a
concussion."

"How's your head feeling?" he asked. "I didn't realize..."

"Not bad. I still have a little bit of a headache, but it's much
better than it was."

"Good." He opened the passenger door for her, then went around
to the driver's side. But, when he turned the key, the engine
sputtered for a moment, and died.

He frowned and tried again, with the same result.

"That's odd. It was running fine, last night." He tried the key
once more, with no more success.

"I just had it in for a tune-up last week," Lois said. "If they
messed with my car--"

"If they did, they'll have to fix it," Clark said.

"It's Sunday." Lois scowled, unhappily. "I'll have to wait until
tomorrow to take it in."

"I guess we call a cab," Clark said. "If you like, I can take a
look at it later. I used to help Dad with the farm machinery. It
it's something simple, I might be able to fix it."

"Thanks. That's really nice of you." She felt her scowl melt.
"We don't need to take a cab. It'll only take fifteen minutes if
we take a shortcut through the park."

"Okay," he said. "Why not?"

********************

Centennial Park was brilliant with its autumn foliage this
morning. The air was cool and crisp after yesterday's rain, and
the sky was the almost impossibly clear blue that is only seen
in late October.

"In another week the ghosts and goblins will be out," Clark
said.

"Yeah," Lois said. "I guess I'd better stock up on Halloween
candy pretty soon. I always wait until the last minute because
if I buy it too early I always eat all the chocolate bars and
then have to diet like crazy for months to lose the extra
pounds. And since Thanksgiving is right around the corner, it's
hard to do."

Clark laughed. "How would you like to spend Thanksgiving in
Smallville with me, this year?" he asked.

She sneaked a glance up at him. He was looking apprehensive, but
determined. She swallowed nervously and gathered her courage.
"That sounds nice. But won't you want it to be just a family
occasion?"

"I'd love to have you there," he said. "I know Mom and Dad
would, too. They really like you."

"I'm glad they do," she said. "Okay."

His face lit up in one of those brilliant smiles. "Good. I'll
let them know I invited you."

They walked along in silence for several minutes. From the
direction of the children's playground Lois could hear the sound
of young voices giggling and shouting, but the immediate area
around them was deserted.

The two masked figures that stepped out of the shrubbery took
Lois completely by surprise. One was tall, about Clark's height,
and burly; the other was shorter and, in his hand, he clutched a
long, switchblade knife. By his skinnier build and long arms and
legs, Lois guessed him to be a teenager. Lois and Clark froze,
and Clark instantly pushed Lois behind him.

"Give me your money!" The taller man's voice was a harsh rumble
in Lois's ears. "Hurry up! You too, lady. Everything in your
purse!" He approached several steps, waving a handgun. "Now!"

Surprised, Lois saw Clark go deathly pale and begin to sway. He
pulled out his wallet and held it toward the smaller man. Lois
thrust her purse at him as well. What was wrong with....

"Ten bucks?" The shorter mugger had ripped open Clark's wallet,
scattering credit cards on the ground.

"That's all?" The taller man raised his gun, and Lois knew all
at once that this was the mugging Mrs. Cox had suggested to Lex.
This had to be John Black and his brother, Pete, and somewhere
on him, perhaps in a pocket, he carried three Kryptonite-tipped
bullets.

"No!" Almost before she thought, she reacted. They were going to
kill Clark and he couldn't stop them. Lois was all that stood
between him and death. She shoved the shorter mugger as hard as
she could into his older brother.

John Black staggered sideways and the gun discharged into the
air.

Pete Black scrambled to his feet and lunged at Lois. Clark
lurched into his path, and the two men went down in a tangle of
arms and legs.

Lois knew her chances against a gun were slim; John Black
wouldn't know who she was, or that Luthor wouldn't want her
dead. She had only a tiny margin of time to act, and then it
would be all over. As John Black staggered, trying to regain his
balance, Lois kicked him as hard as she could on the knee, the
only portion of his anatomy she could reach that might be
vulnerable.

She was only a few months short of a brown belt in Tai Kwan Do,
and she had studied hard. The kick was perfectly placed. Black
howled in agony as her foot connected with his knee, and he
sprawled on the graveled walkway, clutching the injured member.
Behind her, she heard Clark's cry of pain. She kicked again and
Black's gun went spinning, to vanish into the tall hedge to
their right. A third kick to the jaw finished the battle.

For a split second, she hesitated, then she knelt by her victim,
patting his pockets. It was in the back pocket of his dirty
jeans that she found the three green-tipped bullets. Without
hesitation, she removed them, ran to the duck pond, fifty feet
away and, without a pause, hurled them into its center.

When she returned to the scene of their mugging, she found that
the character of the fight had changed dramatically in just
those few seconds. Pete was on his face on the ground, and Clark
knelt on his back, pinning his hands behind him. John Black
still lay face down in the gravel, unmoving.

Clark was breathing hard and one of his coat sleeves was torn
and stained with blood. The back of his coat, in the area of his
bullet wound two nights ago, was also blotched with red. Lois
hurried to him. "You're bleeding!"

He looked up at her with a grim smile. "It's nothing. Do you
still have your cell phone in your purse?"

"Yes." She bent to pick it up from the ground. "It looks as if
Inspector Henderson will get to meet Mr. Black a bit sooner than
we expected."

"I guess so." His smile wobbled slightly. "And after that, I
guess we really need to have that talk."

"Yes, I guess we do." She looked him straight in the eyes. "I
think it's time both of us explained a few things."

********************

The drive home from the police station in the back of a squad
car was accomplished in silence. The cut on Clark's arm was a
minor one that had already quit bleeding by the time the police
arrived at the park in answer to Lois's 911 call, but while they
were making statements at the police station Clark kept shooting
questioning glances at her.

Henderson had also delayed them somewhat. He called them into
his private office and, after making sure that Clark didn't want
medical attention, brought up the subject of the tapes delivered
to him earlier in the day by Jimmy and Jack. The tapes
themselves were inadmissable as evidence, but they had given the
investigators information they could use, and John Black, when
faced with the tape (and the news that the police had the two
witnesses who could incriminate him) was singing loudly and in
detail.

The Inspector's dry voice had become almost animated when he
referred to the imminent arrest of Mrs. Cox and Lex Luthor, and
then cautioned them against printing anything prematurely in the
Daily Planet concerning the case. They had helped him
tremendously, he admitted, and would have first claim on any
story, but Henderson had no intention of losing his quarry, or
the D.A. his case, through giving their suspects advance
warning.

Clark opened the door of his apartment for Lois and followed her
in. When the door closed behind them, they stood looking at each
other. For one of the few times in her life, Lois felt
tongue-tied. Something had to be said, but she had the feeling
that if she didn't say it just right, the whole promising
beginning of this morning could be destroyed.

Clark broke the silence first. "Do you want some tea?"

"Sure."

"I'll make it. And you should sit down. You've had a rough
couple of days."

"Clark." She reached out and grasped his hand. "Forget the tea.
Let's just sit down, okay?"

He nodded. She led him to the sofa and seated herself beside
him, looking into his worried face. At last, Clark broke the
silence.

"Thanks for getting rid of the..."

"Kryptonite," Lois finished for him. "You're welcome. Black had
the bullets in his pocket. I threw them in the duck pond."

"I didn't see what you did with them," Clark said. "I only knew
you must have gotten rid of the stuff, somehow." He slowly
removed his jacket and regarded the bloodstains on the right
shoulder. "So...how mad are you?"

"I'm not mad." She searched his expression, trying to make sense
of the question. Then the light dawned. He didn't know! He
thought she'd just discovered his secret.

For an instant, she was tempted to let him believe that, then
she rejected the choice. It wasn't something she would be able
to keep a secret forever, and if they were to have a future
together, it must not be based on a lie. This wasn't the way
she'd envisioned the moment of truth, but the moment was
definitely here.

"Take off your shirt," she said, suddenly. "I want to see how
that thing on your shoulder is doing. You broke it open again."

"Lois..."

She looked at him in mild exasperation. "Look, let me fix it up
for you, okay? It's the least I can do, after all the times
you've saved me."

"All right," he said, obviously puzzled at her attitude. He
removed the shirt and turned slightly so she could check the
damage.

"Hmm," she said, after a moment. "I don't think it's too bad,
but you've broken the scabs open. Do you have any first aid
stuff around here? No, of course not. Why would you?"

"Actually, I do," he said, unexpectedly.

"But...you're..."

"I bought a kit from a pair of Cub Scouts during a fund raiser a
few months ago," he explained, looking sheepish. "I think it's
in the top of my closet. What's so funny?"

"I'll explain later," she said. "Stay right there."

A few moments later, dabbing the wound with iodine, she began.
"Clark, I need to explain something."

"Don't you mean 'Superman'?" he asked, quietly.

Lois winced at his tone. He was operating under a set of false
assumptions, and she needed to correct them at once.

"No," she said. "I don't mean 'Superman'. I mean Clark--my best
friend, my partner, and the man I fell in love with months
ago...if I'd only been willing to admit it. If he chooses to
moonlight in blue tights every now and then, that doesn't make
him any less Clark."

"What?" he said. His voice sounded almost choked.

"Just shut up for a minute and let me explain, will you? This is
hard enough without all the interruptions."

"Okay," he said, softly. "I'm sorry. I should have told you
before this."

"Yeah, probably. Hold still while I tape this down."

Obediently, he remained statue still while she smoothed the
adhesive into place. "There. You can turn around, now."

Slowly, he turned and met her eyes. She smiled at him shakily.
"You better put your shirt on," she said, "or I'll be too
distracted to concentrate."

He picked up the torn shirt and slipped it on, then began to
slowly button it up. "I don't understand," he said. "Aren't you
angry?"

Lois reached out and gently removed his glasses, shaking her
head slightly as Superman's face emerged from behind the
horn-rimmed spectacles. Still, it wasn't exactly Superman,
either, because he had Clark's hair, and certainly Clark's
expression.

"You know, this explains how I could have such a mad crush on
Superman, and yet fall in love with my partner at the same
time," she said, thoughtfully. "Even though I didn't admit it to
myself for ages."

He opened his mouth, but she put her fingers to his lips.
"Quiet. I have to say this now, before I lose my nerve. I first
discovered the truth a little over a week ago--that night at the
Daily Planet."

His eyes widened slightly and he opened his mouth to speak. She
held up a hand. "I'm not finished, yet. When I realized it, I
*was* angry. And I was hurt, too. No, don't talk. But after that
I had time to think, and I figured out a lot of the reasons you
hadn't told me. I have to admit I was annoyed, too, that you let
me make such an idiot of myself over Superman...but you never
took advantage of me, and you could have--easily. I've watched
you all week--both as Clark and as Superman--and I realized
something I didn't understand before."

"What?"

"That my all-powerful, perfect idol, my 'god in a cape', was
just a man. He wasn't anywhere near perfect."

"Does it make a difference?" he asked.

"Sure it does," she said. "It's a relief."

"A *relief*?" The look on his face told her he hadn't expected
that.

She dropped her eyes to her hands, which were clasped almost
painfully in her lap. "I started realizing that Clark Kent, my
partner, was the real man behind Superman, and that he was a
kind, decent guy who would have been an incredible person with
or without Superman's powers." She glanced timidly up at him,
then looked back at her hands. "When you called me for help two
nights ago, I was terrified. The only thing I could think of
while I was breaking every speed law ever written, was that if I
lost you I'd lose everything that mattered to me. I don't want a
future without you in it whether your powers ever come back or
not." She raised her eyes finally to meet his, steadily,
fighting the butterflies that danced under her ribs. "I had a
schoolgirl crush on the perfect hero that didn't exist," she
said. "But that doesn't last. The person inside the suit is a
man I like, and trust, and who's the best friend I ever had.
He's not a bit perfect, and I'm glad. Though," she added,
thoughtfully, "the fact that you look like every woman's fantasy
in those tights doesn't hurt your appeal."

He gave a small choke of laughter. "So, what *do* you want,
Lois?"

"I guess," she said, "I'm asking if we can start over--without
Superman knocking out my good judgement this time."

Clark shook his head. "I don't want to start over."

Her heart dropped into her shoes at his reply, but he hadn't
finished. "I don't want to go through all that again." He took
her hands, gently separated the tightly laced fingers and held
them in his. "But I would like to go on from here, if you can
forgive me for not telling you the truth before now. Do you
think you can do that?"

She nodded, ignoring the tears that she could feel beginning to
roll down her cheeks. "I'd like to try."

He fished a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped them away.
"Maybe we could try dating," he suggested. "And there's
Thanksgiving in Kansas, too. My Mom's going to love talking to
you...and probably embarrassing me half to death," he added,
with a slight smile. "All I ever wanted was for you to care for
me--for myself. None of the other things matter."

"I'm not the easiest person to get along with," she warned him,
determined not to gloss over the drawbacks. "We might decide
it's a bust, or we could find out we're pretty good together.
You never know."

"I'll vote for the second option," he said. "But there's one
thing I've been wanting to do again ever since we stayed in the
Honeymoon Suite at the Lexor."

"What's that?"

"This." He leaned forward and kissed her.

After her ears stopped ringing, she drew in a deep breath. "You
know," she said, "I think I could get to like the new Clark
Kent."

Clark was smiling at her, and the sheer joy in his face couldn't
be disguised. "I think we should give it our best shot, then."

She nodded. "I agree. Let's try that again. We want to be sure
to get it right."

Clark pulled her into his arms. "They do say practice makes
perfect, you know."

And after that, neither one of them had anything to say for a
considerable period of time.

******************

Epilogue

The arrest of Lex Luthor, the billionaire owner of LexCorp,
blared from the front page of the Daily Planet on Monday
afternoon, accompanied by articles under the byline of Lane and
Kent.

The overwhelming evidence of his complicity in crimes too
numerous and heinous to mention, that had been supplied by his
personal assistant, Mrs. Cox, led the judge to deny bail and
bind him over for trial. It looked for once as if Lex Luthor's
tremendous power, wealth and influence would not win his
freedom.

Two weeks after his arrest, he vanished from the cell where he
was awaiting trial. Inside help was suspected, but nothing could
be proven.

The End

*******************

(To be continued in the final story)