LOST AND FOUND
by Jeff Brogden <jwbrogden@bar-b-bar.org>
Rated PG
Submitted November 2000
__________

Notes:

Comments/criticism welcome.  Please.  Good and/or bad, I'd
really like to hear what you have to say.

This is my first major attempt at writing fanfic in quite some
time.  I've always had ideas, I just never felt I had the time
to write.  However, I missed the creative process.  One day I
decided I was going to try and make time to write.

About a year ago, I started working on this story.  Nothing
flowed well, and I made several starts and stops on it.  Then, I
discovered Zoomway's message boards.  The instant feedback
provided by the people on the boards went a long way in making
this story what it is today.

Thank you to everyone who posted a comment on the message
boards.  There are too many to list, but I'm grateful to all of
you.  Also, thank you to my wife, Sandy McDermin and morganb for
their help in editing the first part of the story.  The second
part is all mine, and in the end, any problems are mine alone.
Thanks to Pam Jernigan and Chris Mulder for giving me the
initial push to continue and to merry and Karen S. for the
constant email needling.  Finally, a tip of the hat to Erin
Klingler, my GE from the archive.  I'm sorry you had to type
[ADD COMMA] and [QUESTION MARK GOES BEFORE
THE EX. POINT] so many times.

So, here's the brief setup.  Call this an Elseworlds story or
whatever.  I'm playing with things.  Briefly, this takes place a
year or two after Clark should have come to Metropolis.  Only
this time....



***

(Friday, December 22, 1995, 5:00 p.m. CST)

"< < ...We repeat, the Kansas Highway Patrol has closed all
interstates as a result of the heavy snow fall from this early
Christmas blizzard.  Looks like we'll be getting more of a
white Christmas than we bargained for-- > >" Click!

Lois shut off the radio with a little more enthusiasm than was
necessary.  Closed all interstates?  She was already on I-35
between Topeka and Wichita, for heaven's sake!  At least she
thought she was still on the interstate.  It was getting harder
and harder to see where the road ended and the ditch began.
Maybe she should find a place to stay and weather this storm
out.  It wouldn't do to get stranded on the road in this
blizzard.  She could remember reading many a report of people
who had been buried alive in their vehicles during a storm like
this one.

Lois fished around in her glove compartment, looking for a map.
She had purchased maps of all the states she would be traveling
through before she started on this trip.  She needed to figure
out where she was. Lois hoped she wasn't too far into the "Land
of Ahhh's" to find a decent place to stay.  One thing she
remembered from previewing her route earlier, was that there
were not many decent sized cities through this part of the
trip.  Not too many towns of any size along here, in fact.

Lois managed to get the map out and open onto the seat next to
her.  It was late, and what little ambient light there was
didn't provide any help in viewing the small symbols on the
map.  She fumbled around for the map light in her Jeep, and
clicked it on.

"Ah!  Better," she mumbled to herself.  What was the name of the
last city she went through?  Actually, come to think of it, she
hadn't seen a city, town or anything for quite some time.  She
needed a reference point so she could figure out where she was.
A mile marker would do the trick.  Lois looked up just in time
to see the headlights of her Jeep reflect off the white letters
and green background of just such a marker as it disappeared
beneath the front grill with a loud *THUNK!*

"Oh my God!"  Lois fought the wheel that had suddenly taken on a
life of its own in her hands.  She'd run off the road while
looking at the map.  Snow flew in every direction as she brought
the vehicle to a stand still.  Luckily, she had only been going
about 35 miles an hour.  That was the fastest she had felt safe
going with the reduced visibility of the snowstorm.  Other than
the wind whistling outside, the slapping of the windshield
wipers and the low idle of the engine were the only noises she
could hear.

"Damn," she cursed softly.  "What am I doing out here, anyway?"
She knew the answer to that.  Lucy.  Well... maybe she should
share some of the responsibility, herself, Lois thought.  But,
it was mostly Lucy.  Lucy was throwing a big Christmas family
get together this year.  One more useless attempt at trying to
capture the elusive traditional family Christmas.  Bitter
flashbacks of Christmases past lunged forward into her mind.  She
forced them back with practiced ease.  Lois almost hadn't come
this year.  Too many wasted attempts in the past, combined with
Lucy's move to Austin from LA, had almost made Lois decide she
wasn't going to even try meeting with the family this year.

Lucy had been so persistent and had sounded so disappointed when
Lois had said she wasn't coming that Lois had reluctantly agreed
to the trip and then spent the next few days regretting that
decision.  It was then that inspiration had struck.  Listening
to another suspected "Guardian Angel" report, she had hatched
the idea behind the real reason she was stuck in a ditch during
a Kansas blizzard.  She had convinced Perry and the Planet higher-
ups to pay for this little cross-country jaunt as she gathered
information into the whole Guardian Angel mystery.  With Jimmy's
help, Lois had mapped out a route that would take her through as
many cities as she could between Metropolis and Austin that a
Guardian Angel sighting was to have supposedly taken place.

At each stop, she had dug into the local library, read the
local coverage of the event, interviewed witnesses and gathered
as much information as she could.  It almost made the time she
would have to spend with her parents bearable.

She wouldn't be spending any time with anyone if she didn't get
moving.  Lois eased into the throttle and felt the wheels
slipping and sliding as the Jeep inched forward just a bit.
Either the Jeep wasn't getting any traction, or there was too
much snow piled up in front of it.  Putting the vehicle in
reverse, Lois again eased into the throttle, trying to see if
she could backtrack through her own tracks.

At first, it seemed to work, but she quickly came to a stop, the
tires spinning uselessly against the snow.  Lois checked to see
if the gearbox was in four wheel drive, and found that it wasn't.
Engaging the drive, she again eased on the throttle and the Jeep
responded by inching back.  After a few minutes of fluttering
the throttle, Lois managed to get back on the road.  Only now,
she was confused as to which direction she was pointing.  Was
she headed toward Wichita or Topeka?

As Lois drove, she noticed a vibration in the steering wheel.
Then, a strange noise became more apparent the further she
went.  It was a metal-against-metal sound that could only mean
a bad thing.

"Oh, great!  Miles from nowhere, and I develop car trouble," she
grumbled, using sarcasm to cover the uneasiness she felt.
Visibility was reduced to a few feet in front of the hood.  It
was all she could do to see the edge of the road, and she
almost missed an exit, nearly blown shut with snow.  The barely
noticeable sign along side the road said "Smallville--6 Miles."

"Smallville?  Doesn't sound very promising..." she let her
voice trail off as she heard a new noise coming from the engine
compartment.  A hissing noise.  Lois did a quick check of the
gauges and didn't see anything out of the ordinary.  Oil
pressure was good; water temperature steady; alternator was
putting out the right amount of current.  There was plenty of
gas.  Lois only hoped there was enough time to make it the six
miles to Smallville.  At twenty miles an hour it wasn't going to
take long, but it would still be longer than she wanted.

"Just find a place with a phone and a warm bed," she muttered.
Hearing her own voice helped distract her from the ominous noises
coming from her beloved Jeep.  "Call the Auto Club--"

Lois never got to finish the sentence.  A loud crack from the
Jeep interrupted, forcing her to wrestle with the steering wheel
in order to stay on the road.  The last thing she remembered was
seeing the horizon disappear as the nose of the Jeep suddenly
dropped out from under her.

***

Lois woke up to the constant slapping of the windshield wipers.
This time there was no engine idle accompanying them, only the
sound of the wind outside.  Lois blinked as she tried to clear
her vision, but it stubbornly refused to cooperate.  She wiped
her hand over her eyes and noticed it came away wet.  Looking
into the rearview mirror, she could see the small cut on her
forehead where she must have hit the steering wheel.  How long
had she been unconscious?  She checked her watch, relieve to find
that it hadn't been long.

"Now what?"  Lois made sure the Jeep was in park, and turned the
key.  Thankfully, the engine responded immediately with a
healthy rumble.  The transmission, too, responded with the
normal solid clunk she was used to.  Crossing her fingers, Lois
eased her foot down on the throttle and went nowhere.  The
engine revved, but nothing happened.  She went from reverse to
low gear, feeling the transmission clunk as it went through the
gears.  Again, the Jeep went nowhere.  Lois could feel the back
wheels spinning, but she couldn't feel anything from the front
wheels.

"Something is definitely broken up there."  Lois sighed as she
put the Jeep into park.  Should she stay here?  The Jeep had
plenty of gas.  She knew all about how to survive in a vehicle
should she ever be stranded in a blizzard, such as she was now.
"Stay in the vehicle.  Run the motor and heater for fifteen
minutes at a time."  Lois rattled off the survival techniques,
trying to convince herself everything would be okay.  How far
had she gotten toward that town?  A quick glance at the odometer
showed her she had gone about four miles, if she remembered
correctly.

She rolled down the window to see just how cold it was outside.
It didn't feel too bad.  It was only two miles.  Did she really
want to spend the next 24 hours or more here in her Jeep, two
miles from town?  No.  Did she want to risk her life, wandering
around aimlessly in a blizzard?  No.  Would that stop her from
trying to get to town anyway?  No.  She nervously laughed out
loud at herself.  "Always diving in before checking the level
first, Lane...."

She just couldn't bring herself to sit there.  She just
couldn't.  Reaching over the seat, she gathered up her overnight
bag and her briefcase.  If she was lucky, she could spend the
next day or two reviewing her research while her car was being
fixed.  She decided to grab an extra change of clothes, and more
importantly, underwear.  Climbing into the back seat, she opened
up her suitcase and fished out the items she was looking for and
stuffed them into the overnight bag.  Satisfied that she had
everything, she climbed back into the front seat.

Without thinking twice about it, she turned off the Jeep, and
shut down the lights.  Once she made up her mind, she rarely
changed it again.  Making sure she had everything she needed, Lois
opened the driver side door, and stepped out into the snow.  The
wind bit into her like a knife before she could pull on her coat,
hat and gloves.  Lois reached back in and grabbed her bags and
locked the door, giving it a heave with her hip to shut it.
Looking back towards the road, she could see the dim glow of a
light in the direction she thought Smallville waited.

Getting out of the ditch was a little more exhausting than Lois
would have imagined.  The snow was deep, and her bags, which
earlier had seemed so light, now seemed to weigh a ton.  Three
times Lois had had to pick herself up when she had fallen, and
now her legs were wet from the hips down.  She checked on her
guiding light, and started off down the road, trying to stay in
the groove earlier vehicles had cut in the snow.

The going was tough.  She wasn't heading into the wind, thank
goodness, but it was still bitterly cold against her wet legs.
Her bags grew heavier with each step.  The crunch of snow beneath
her feet and her labored breathing were the only sound she could
hear.  She realized she couldn't feel her fingers and toes.

"Maybe... this... wasn't such... a good... idea... after all,"
Lois panted heavily.  She thought about going back, and turned
to see how far she had come.  Turning into the wind, Lois was
knocked over by its sudden chilling force on her bare face.
Lois struggled to get up, to get away from the cold wetness she
could feel seeping into her clothing.  She took a couple more
steps toward the light.  It loomed larger and larger in front of
her, beckoning her to go on.  Again she fell, her legs all but
rubber beneath her.  She was so cold, and her head was
throbbing.  "Stupid, stupid, stupid," Lois heard herself say into
the growing darkness around her.  If only her head would quit
hurting.  And that ringing noise would stop.  Lois opened her
eyes and saw only red and black in front of her.  "So...
tired."  No!  She couldn't fall asleep.  She had to get moving.
Somehow Lois made it to her feet again, her bags forgotten on the
ground behind her.

Lois could see the light in front of her, getting bigger as she
shuffled along.  If she could only make it to the light.  The
wind blew stronger and threatened to knock her off balance.  Lois
struggled to maintain her balance and tripped over a block of
compacted ice and snow that had fallen off of a car earlier.

"OUCH! AHH--" her shocked response was cut short by the snow in her
face.  She struggled to roll over.  She could see the light,
larger than ever, right in front of her.  If she could just reach
it.  Stretching her arm toward the light, the last thing Lois
remembered was a flash of green as a silhouetted figure emerged
from the cab of a--what?!  A tractor?

***

The throbbing in her head just wouldn't stop.  No matter how much
she wanted to stay asleep, the constant pounding just wouldn't
let her.  As Lois became more aware of what was going on around
her, she could tell three things.  One, she was still cold.  Two,
something heavy was pressing down on her.  Three, something
smelled wonderful.  That last one wasn't at all what she was
expecting.  Shouldn't she be feeling the freezing wind in her
face?  Or was she dead?  If she was dead, why was her head still
pounding?  Slowly, she willed her eyes to open.

Lois blinked a few times to clear them, and could see she was in
a living room of some sort.  There was a fire burning in a
fireplace and she was lying on a couch under several quilts, in
front of the fireplace.  The fireplace seemed to be providing the
only source of light, which gave everything a soft, muted look.
 From the looks of the decor, it was an older home.  Every item
and piece of furniture had a look of old-world character about
it.  "Homey" was the term that came to mind.  Owned by someone who
cared very much about it, judging from how neat and well kept it
looked.  This was a place someone called home and wanted others
to call home as well.

A slight movement to one side caught her attention.  There, in
an old wing-backed chair sat a man reading a book.  There was a
small reading lamp on the table next to him, illuminating his
features.  He looked to be about her age with thick, dark hair.
His face looked tanned, and he had a slightly exotic look.  A
little curl of hair hung down over his forehead, and Lois felt
the urge to reach out and tuck it back up with the rest of his
hair.

Her body shivered uncontrollably from the cold she still felt,
and her movements caught the man's eye.  He looked up to check
on her, the worry clear in the soft, brown eyes behind the
simple black frames he wore.  When he saw that she was awake,
the worry was immediately replaced with joy.  A beautiful smile
graced his face as he set the book down on the table next to
him.

"Hello," he said, his voice low, rich and warm.  "I'm glad to see
you are awake, finally.  Can I get you something warm to drink?"

"Where am I?"

"Sorry, I should have realized you would want to know that first.
Let me introduce myself.  I'm Clark Kent.  You're in my house,
which is just outside of Smallville."

"Smallville," Lois whispered.  Yes, she was trying to get to
Smallville, she remembered.  "Guess I didn't make it to
Smallville, huh?"

The man, (Clark was it?), looked at her strangely.  "Were you
heading for Smallville?"

"Yes.  When the Highway Patrol announced they were shutting down
the interstate, I decided I had better find a place to pull off
and wait it out.  I saw a sign that said it was about six miles
to Smallville, so I decided to head there."  She shifted
slightly under the quilts to ease some of the stiffness from her
back.  "I had run off the road and damaged my Jeep earlier.
About two miles from Smallville, something broke and put me in
the ditch.  I figured it was only two miles, and I could see a
light, so I started off.  Boy, was that dumb."

Clark leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  "Don't
say that.  You are lucky I found you, however.  The biggest
problem was you weren't walking toward Smallville.  I found you
about three miles east of Smallville--"

"East?!" Lois said in shock.  "But I was going south into
Smallville, how could I have managed to end up going east?"

"My guess is when you ended up in the ditch, it was at the
crossroads about two miles north of town.  It was dark.  You saw
my mercury-vapor light, or the lights from my tractor and
mistook it for town.  I was on my way back from checking the
cattle, when I thought I saw some movement on the road.  If you
had gone south, like you planned, you would have made it into
town."  He leaned back into the chair again.  "Although, I
wouldn't recommend leaving your vehicle like you did, ever again.
As you've found out, it's all too easy to get into trouble."

Lois felt her checks redden from the guilt at the scolding he was
administrating.  She watched his face darken.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I shouldn't harp on you like that.  I'm
just glad you are all right."  He gave her a small smile.

"No.  You're right.  I shouldn't have left the Jeep.  I even knew
that, but I left anyway.  It's something I'm famous for; ignoring
danger."

"Oh?  You'll have to fill me in on this death-defying attitude
of yours.  But, before you do that, I think you need to change
your clothes."

Lois pulled the quilts back and looked down at herself.  She was
still dressed in the same clothes.  And they were slightly
damp.  That must explain why she was still cold.

Clark stood up and walked around behind the couch.  He picked up
her overnight bag and briefcase.  "I found these not far from
where I found you.  I hope you have another change of clothes in
them.  If not, I can probably find you something to wear."  He
set them down next to the couch for her.  "I thought about
getting you out of those wet clothes sooner, but..." his voice
trailed off and he blushed.  It was evident even in the dim
lighting of the room.  His body language was that of someone who
was suddenly very uncomfortable and wanted to either leave or
change the subject.  His eyes looked everywhere but at her.

"I didn't want you waking up in a strange house, with..." his
arms waved around in the air in front of him, "...with some
different clothes on...."

"Or, no clothes on," Lois added, feeling a slight giggle rising
in her, threatening to come to the surface.

His shocked look nearly caused her to loose control.  "Oh!  I'd
never do--I mean I wouldn't leave you--" his hands were animated
again, the look of horror on his face genuine.

For no known reason that Lois could pinpoint at that moment, she
felt completely safe with this man.  His obvious embarrassment
and discomfort was as telling as anything about the kind of man
he was.  Something about him told her she could trust him.

"Don't worry about it.  If it had been really necessary, I'm sure
you would have done whatever needed doing."  She started to sit
up and felt a wave of nausea sweep over her.

"Careful, go slowly.  You've got a nasty bump on your forehead.
You might have a slight concussion."  He reached out and grasped
Lois' small hand lightly but firmly with his large hand.  They
were incredibly warm and soft, Lois noted.  Slowly, he pulled her
into a sitting position.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm a little woozy."

"Take your time.  Let me know when you want to try and stand up."

"All right."  Lois let the world stop moving, then nodded her
head.  She let Clark do most of the work of pulling her into a
standing position.  The world didn't move around as much as it
had before.  She could feel his other hand on her back, resting
there reassuringly.

"You all right?"

"Yes, thank you.  Where can I change?"

Clark motioned with his head back toward the darkness.  "There is
a bathroom back here.  Let me go turn on some lights and put your
bags in there."

He let go of her slowly, and then moved off into the darkness
with her bags.  She took a moment to look around the room again,
noting the many pictures and other strange items scattered about.
Someone had either done a lot of world traveling, or there were
some strange junk sales out here in Kansas.

Clark came up behind her and lightly grasped her elbow.  "This
way," he said as he turned her around, and took a hold of her hand
once again.  She felt herself automatically lean into him and he
wrapped one arm around her back along her waist as he guided her
toward the bathroom.

"Thanks," she said, smiling up at him once they reached the door.

"No problem."  He smiled, and Lois felt her heart warm just a
little bit more.

***

Clark watched the door click shut and walked into the kitchen to
check on supper.  He hoped his guest was all right.  He had used
his special vision to check on her condition when he found her
lying in the snow on the road.  She had a nasty looking cut on
her forehead, but other than being cold, she had appeared to be
unharmed.  He had used his heat vision to warm her and dry her
clothes as much as he dared.  He didn't want her waking up
wondering why she was completely dry.  It would have been an
awkward situation and one difficult to explain.

Clark heard the shower come on as he checked on the stew cooking
in the crockpot.  His guest would be hungry once she was done
cleaning up.  The stew was simmering nicely, and Clark went
about setting the table.  He stood back and looked longingly at
the picture it presented--not for one, as the table was
usually set, but for two.

He closed his eyes as memories of his parents drifted forward
with ease.  He took the time to relive them, feeling a deep
sadness as well as happiness in the action.  He missed them
terribly--their advice, and the constant anchor they had
provided to his often topsy-turvy life.  Clark felt a single
tear break free out of the corner of his eye and he tracked its
path down his cheek.  He reached up and brushed it away before
it could drop from his jaw onto his shirt.  Clark didn't have
time for this now.  He could hear that his guest had turned the
shower off.

Clark cut up some homemade bread, put it on the table, and
started a pot of hot water on the stove.  The timer went off on
the oven.  Clark cracked the door and peeked at the apple pie
baking within.  It had that perfect golden color his mother had
liked so well.  He took out an oven mitt and pulled the pie
out, placing it on the cooling rack.  He really didn't need the
mitt, but normal, everyday habits had to be maintained if he
wanted to fit in.  Even in the apparent safety of his own home,
he had to maintain the illusion, lest it all come crashing down
around him.

He surveyed the area one last time to make sure he hadn't missed
anything.  Since he wasn't sure how long his guest might take,
he turned on the radio and picked up the newest copy of the High
Plains Journal.  Sitting down in his usual spot, he started to
read the Journal, waiting for his guest to emerge from the
bathroom.  For a brief instant, a vision of her face danced in
front of his eyes, causing his heart to beat harder.  He gave
his head a slight shake, then tried to concentrate on the words
on the page.  Being around her made him feel--confused.

Clark wanted to get to know her better, but at the same time, he
realized he couldn't let anyone get too close to the real Clark
Kent.  That always led to pain.  Now, however, this confused
feeling was pleasant in a strange sort of way.  He couldn't
allow himself to get too used to it though.  All too soon, his
guest and the emotions she brought out would be going away.

***

Lois had no problem following the sounds and smells into the
kitchen once she was done cleaning up.  The hot shower and
change of clothes had done wonders for her.  She almost felt
normal again.  The rumblings from her stomach reminded her of
the one thing that would make her feel even better: food.  She
walked into the kitchen to see Clark sitting at the table
reading a newspaper of some kind.  The table had been set for
two.  He looked up as he heard her approach and favored her
with his smile.  She could get used to that smile.

"Hello," he said softly.  "Are you hungry?"  He stood up and
pulled out a chair for her.

"Starved," Lois admitted.  "It all smells so wonderful."

Clark placed a full bowl of stew in front of her.  "I hope you
like vegetable beef stew."  He looked at her with a slightly
worried expression.  "You're not a vegetarian, are you?  I can
get you something else."

Lois laughed.  Somehow it fit that this man in front of her,
who she had only known for a few moments, would be concerned
about whether he was offering her something she couldn't eat.

"No.  It's all right.  This smells and looks wonderful."  She
picked up the spoon and started eating.  "Oh, this is sooo good,"
she mumbled between mouthfuls.

Satisfied that she was, indeed, going to eat, Clark set his bowl
down on the table and joined her.

"Oh my gosh, I almost forgot!  I know your name, but I haven't
given you mine yet."  Lois felt terribly guilty about that.  She
had thought of it while she was in the shower, but the smell of
food had temporarily overridden her actions.  "I'm sorry--"

"Don't be," he said simply.  "You've had quite an experience, and
I perfectly understand."

Lois put her spoon down and extended her hand.  "I'm Lois
Lane.  Thanks for...everything."

He grasped her hand, applying a light but firm amount of
pressure.  Lois recognized the technique.  One of the things she
hated the most was the sloppy, loose handshake that most men
offered to women.  She, herself, preferred to give a solid, firm
handshake, grasping firmly enough to gauge the other's response
and not appear as if she were trying to bring a guy to his
knees.  Lois was glad Clark had a nice firm handshake and didn't
assume she wouldn't have one as well.

"Lois Lane?  *The* Lois Lane?" he asked with a small note of
wonder in his voice.

"What?"  She wasn't sure what he meant.

"Are you the Lois Lane of the Daily Planet?"  He still had not
let go of her hand.

Lois was embarrassed and astounded at the same time.  "Well, yes.
Yes, I work for the Daily Planet.  In Metropolis," she added
needlessly.  There weren't a lot of Daily Planets around.

"Sure!  Of course.  Oh, Ms. Lane, this is an honor.  I read your
work all the time."  He looked down at his hand, still holding
hers and let go.  "Sorry.  I'm just so amazed."

As she watched, she noticed his look of awe was replaced with
something else.  Was it fear?  Worry?  He recovered quickly
and gave her a quick smile.

"Would you like some more stew, or a piece of apple pie?"  He
quickly stood up and took her empty bowl.

"Ah...oh."  His sudden change of topic was a bit disconcerting.
"I think I'd like some pie, thank you."

Clark returned with her pie and a carton of vanilla ice cream.
"Would you like some ice cream on that?"

"Sure!"  Nothing better than a big glob of ice cream on warm
apple pie.  Evidently, from the size of the scoop Clark put on
her piece, he agreed.

"Thanks," Lois laughed.

Clark looked down at her plate worriedly, then his face broke
into an easy smile.  The earlier tension seemed to have faded
away.

"Sorry.  Is that too much?  I guess I just put on what I usually
do."  He demonstrated by adorning his pie with an equally large
blob of ice cream.

As he turned to put the ice cream back into the freezer, Lois
took a good look at him.  His red flannel shirt was tucked
neatly into a pair of Wranglers.  From the broad shoulders, down
the V-shape of his back to his trim hips and firm backside, he
didn't look like the type who ate like an eight-year-old.  She
quickly diverted her eyes when he turned back around and sat
down.

The ice cream was starting to melt from the heat of the pie, and
Lois scooped up a large bite.  "Oh, my.  This is fantastic."

"Thanks, I enjoy cooking," Clark said, not a hint of ego in his
voice.  "Especially when someone enjoys eating it so much."

They shared a laugh and continued eating in relative silence.
After Lois finished off her dessert, she felt like she was
approaching something close to normal.  "Clark, that was
wonderful.  And thank you, again, for all you've done for me."

"No problem, Ms. Lane.  I'm glad I could help."  He stood up and
started clearing the dishes.

"Please, call me Lois.  Here, let me help," Lois insisted,
jumping up to help.

"No, no.  That's okay.  You're my guest.  Sit down, please."

Reluctantly, Lois sat down.  "Thanks.  Now that I've cleaned up,
eaten and the preliminary introductions are out of the way, I
feel this need to get caught up on recent events so I can fully
regain my equilibrium."  Unconsciously, she slipped into
professional mode.

"I'll start.  I was driving down to Austin for a
'good-ole-family-Christmas,'" she said a bit sarcastically,
quoting the phrase in the air with her hands.  "I don't know why
my sister keeps insisting on trying these things, but she does.
The blizzard hit and the Highway Patrol closed down the
interstate, but I was already on the interstate!  What was I
supposed to do?  I decided I had better get off, so I tried to
get the map out.  I went into the ditch while I was trying to
read the map, but I got out.  I'd forgotten to engage the
four-wheel drive, and once I'd done that, it was easy.
Something must have broken on my Jeep, though, 'cause I started
to have some car problems.  Must have been when I ran over that
mile marker.  Anyway, I saw the Smallville exit and turned off
there.  My car problems caused me to end up in the ditch again!"
Lois slapped the table. "Of course, like an idiot, I decided to
walk the last two miles.  I couldn't just bring myself to sit
there for who knows how long if I was only two miles away from a
warm bed.  I got lost and confused.  I'm sure the knock to the
head didn't help with that.  Next thing I know, I'm waking up
in your living room."

She looked up to find Clark, who had sat down during her recap,
staring at her in astonishment.  "I've been told I have a
tendency to babble from time to time.  I should've warned
you."  She reached out and took a hold of his hand and gave it a
small squeeze.  It seemed to be the most natural thing in the
world to do.

"Wow!  That's amazing.  I don't think you even took a breath in
there anywhere."

Lois laughed and lightly whacked his hand.  "I did so.  I'm not
that bad."  She reluctantly released his hand and folded her
arms in front of her on the table.

"Well, let me finish," Clark said.  "Although, you'll have to
excuse me if I don't tell my part quite as fast as you did.
And, I'll have to breathe more than once."

Lois glared at him.  However, it was hard to look upset when
presented with his wonderful smile.

"Like I said, I found you on the road going east, away from
Smallville.  I'm guessing your Jeep must be in the ditch by the
crossroads two miles north of town.  When you decided to walk,
you must have headed east by mistake."

Lois let out a sigh.  "Right.  A mistake that nearly cost me my
life.  I could have sworn the lights I was walking toward looked
like the same ones I was driving toward earlier."

"The snow and wind can make things look confusing.  I was just
coming back from checking on the cattle, when I saw you fall in
the road.  I checked you over quickly to make sure you could be
moved, then I loaded you up and brought you here."

"Don't take this wrong, but I'm surprised you didn't take me on
into town."

Clark nodded.  "I thought about it.  Then I remembered the
hospital closed early--"

"Closed?!  A hospital?"

Clark smiled at her.  "Ms. Lane--"

"Please, call me Lois.  Ms. Lane sounds so formal.  Can I call
you Clark?"

"Sure!  I don't mind.  Anyway, about the hospital.  Smallville
is just that; small.  When things blow shut around here, people
don't go out.  If anyone really needed anything, they know they
can call Dr. Travis at home."

Lois nodded as if she understood.  The differences in small town
verses big city life were obviously going to be surprising from
time to time.

"The tractor is all-wheel drive," Clark continued, "and it's
high enough off the ground that I could drive just about
anywhere I wanted.  It seemed best to just get you someplace
warm, though.  From what I could tell, other than the bump on
the head, there wasn't much wrong that a little warmth wouldn't
help."

"Makes sense.  Have you heard what the weather is supposed to do
tomorrow?"

"Last I heard, it was to continue snowing through the night with
a 30% chance of more snow tomorrow."

"Wonderful," Lois said, her tone indicating it was anything but.
"Do you think there'll be anybody in town tomorrow who would
be able to work on my Jeep?"

"There's a couple of people I know who might be able to help.
It'll depend on the weather.  I can certainly take the tractor
out and find your Jeep and tow it into town."  Clark looked down
at his hands.  "You can probably find a motel room to stay in
while the repairs are made, if you want."

"Oh.  Yeah, um, sure.  I hadn't thought of that."  For some
reason, the thought of leaving the company of Clark Kent didn't
sit too well with her.   She found that she would miss talking to
him.  Miss his easy going manner and his devastating smile.  She
had only known him for a short while, and already she could tell
he would be a wonderful friend.

"You're free to stay here as long as you need," Clark said
softly.  "I have plenty of room.  There's an extra bedroom and
attached bath upstairs.  It was my parents room," he added with
a note of sadness.  "You can sleep in there tonight."  He stood
up and looked at his wristwatch.  "In fact, I suggest that you
might want to seriously think about going to bed soon.  It's
getting late and you're an hour off with the time zone
difference.  I'll go upstairs and make sure everything is set
for you."

He started to back away from the table.  Lois reached up and
grabbed his arm quickly to keep him from leaving.  He looked
into her eyes for the longest time.  Lois tried to read what she
saw in them, but couldn't.  His mood had changed again, and she
found that she was worried about him.

"Thank you, Clark.  Thank you for everything you've done for
me."

He smiled at her, but his face didn't light up as it had before.
Lois wanted to ask him about it, but he turned and strode out of
the kitchen before she could do anything.  She listened as his
feet pounded up the stairs out of earshot.  What was going on
here?  Why was she so suddenly at ease with a man she had only
known for one evening?  What was it about Clark Kent that had
completely taken her by surprise?  Shaking her head, she listened
to the radio softly playing in the background, wondering what she
was going to do when morning finally rolled around.  Would she
get a motel room in town?  Or would she stay?  She knew what her
head was telling her to do, but her heart was speaking louder at
the moment.

***

Clark lay in his bed, trying desperately not to tune in his
special hearing.  Without even trying, he could hear every
little noise she was making from his parents' room.  He could
hear her footsteps, her breathing, and her heartbeat.  He was
going insane.

She was Lois Lane, for goodness' sake!  He should be petrified.
Was it coincidence that she had ended up in his neck of the
woods?  It worried him that one of the best investigative
reporters in the business was in his house.  One little slip,
and his private world, as small as it was, would come crashing
down on him.  In a way, he wished it would just so he could
leave behind the fear and loneliness.  But mostly it petrified
him with fear.  For too long he had hidden himself away like his
father wanted him to.  His mother had been more tolerant, but he
knew she had feared for him as well.

He must be getting sloppy in his nightly adventures.  He knew
someone might take notice, and that someone might be right here
in the house with him--someone with a smile that made him melt
inside, with eyes that seemed to look into the depths of his
soul.  Someone who, when she touched him, seemed to set the
world on fire.

The little moans and sounds she had made while eating the pie
tonight had nearly been his undoing.  He doubted she even knew
she was doing it, but with nearly every bite she had taken, a
soft, sensual noise had been emitted for his sensitive ears to
pick up.  It was almost erotic, and Clark felt himself blush as
he realized where his mind was wandering.

The visions of her in his mind became too great, and he threw off
the covers.  He stood up and opened the closet door, taking down
a box from the top shelf.  He listened carefully to see if she
had fallen asleep yet.  He could hear her slow, rhythmic, deep
breaths indicating that she was, indeed, asleep.

He needed to get out and into the air.  Maybe the cold, arctic
wind would help clear his mind and cool him down.  For the first
time in his life, Clark was afraid of what he might do if he
stayed in the house.  He was starting to feel out of control
around her, and he couldn't afford any slips.

Clark donned the dark clothing that was in the box and then
listened closely again before floating down the stairs.  He
decided to use the back door, since it was furthest from prying
ears, and made his escape into the cold, dark night.

***

(Saturday, December 23, 1995, 7:32 a.m. CST)

Clark was pulling the last of the buttermilk pancakes off of the
griddle when he heard Lois coming down the stairs.  Bracing
himself, he turned to greet her.  "Good morning!"  She looked
just as wonderful as he had remembered.

"Good morning.  Wow, pancakes.  They smell delicious."

Clark motioned her to the table, which was already set.  He put
the freshly made pancakes on her plate.  "Here you go, two fresh
ones, hot off the griddle.  Would you like some orange juice?
Buttermilk?" He laughed at the look Lois made at his last
suggestion.

"Do you have any coffee?  I thought I smelled some brewing."

"Sure!  I thought you might be a coffee drinker.  I don't like
buttermilk either.  It's good for making the pancakes, but as a
beverage...." Clark shivered at the thought.  He poured her a
cup of coffee and then sat down himself.

"Mmmmmmmmmm," she moaned.

He dropped his fork when Lois took the first bit.

"Oh!  Are you all right?" she anxiously asked.

Blushing furiously, Clark picked up his fork and quickly dug into
his food.  "I'm f-f-fine.  It just slipped."  He kept his eyes on
his food for the longest time, willing his cheeks to return to
their normal color.

Seeming not to notice, Lois continued to eat.  "I guess the
weather decided not to cooperate this morning," she said with a
sigh.  She glanced out the window at the unrelenting storm.

"I guess not.  The last radio report I heard was that we've
already gotten ten inches, and they expect it to keep snowing
for the rest of the day."

Lois shook her head beside him.  "Ten inches!  How much more
could we possibly get?"

"Oh, we've had fourteen to eighteen inches at a time before.  The
worst part is the drifting.  I'm sure you've noticed, the wind
is a bit strong around here."

"Oh, I noticed, thanks.  Do you think we could turn on the
radio?"

"A reporter has to know what's going on, right?"

Lois threw him a questioning look.  "That reminds me, you seem
to know who I am and what I do."

It wasn't a question.  At least Clark didn't think it was.
Still, if he didn't answer, she might start asking more
questions.  "Well, I must admit, I'm sort of into journalism
myself.  I write, um, a few articles for the Smallville Post."
He sat back down, noting that she was watching him carefully.
"I, like you, like to stay current with things."

Lois helped herself to some more pancakes.  "How did you come to
start writing for the local paper?"

"Oh, I've written articles for them all the way back to high
school.  I was interested in journalism, and Smallville is a
pretty tight community, it wasn't too much trouble to get
hired on to do some junior reporting.  When I got out of high
school, I decided to do some traveling.  I would write up
stories for the Post as I went along.  I found I really liked
reporting on things, so I came home after that first summer and
went to college and got a degree in journalism."

"Is that where a lot of the stuff in the living room came from?"

"Yeah, I tried to pick up something from every place I'd been."

"Wow.  You must have been all over the world."

Clark smiled.  "I've been to a lot of places."

"And yet you came back here.  Why?"

Clark put his silverware down and sighed.  It was painful to
talk about, but then he usually felt better afterwards.
Besides, for some reason, he felt this need to confide.

"My father got sick.  Running a farm is a lot of work, even for
someone who's healthy.  My parents knew how much I cherished
what I was doing, so at first, they tried to keep it from me.
After a while, things just got too hard for them.  I was nearly
finished with my degree, so we decided I should finish that
first.  A semester later, degree in hand, I came home to help
with the farm."

"That must have been tough."

"Not nearly as tough as it was going to get.  A year later, my
father died."  Clark looked off at nothing as he relived those
moments.  Oddly, they weren't as sad this time.  "My mother died
not too long after that.  She was so full of life, but once Dad
was gone, she just--"  The pain of losing his father was great,
but the pain of losing his mother was even greater.  She, of the
two, seemed to have a better understanding of Clark's
uniqueness.

Jonathan had always been a kind, giving, loving father.  Clark
couldn't have asked for a better man to raise him.  But Jonathan
had always lived in fear that someone would find out about Clark
and take him away from them.  Clark knew now that it was
Jonathan's intense love for him that sometimes caused him to
behave the way he did and to make the demands of Clark that he
had made.  Martha, however, was more carefree in spirit.  She
was scared, too, but she didn't let it control her.

"I'm sorry."  Lois laid a hand on his arm.

He was surprised that there were no tears to blink back this
time.  "It's all right.  Anyway, I just sort of hung around
after that.  I do some writing from time to time, but I've kind
of made it my life to carry on what they had here.  Sort of a
way to preserve their memory."  And as a way of hiding, he
continued silently.  He wouldn't have to worry about not fitting
in, where there was no one else to be measured up to.  He could
live life as he wanted--mostly.  Right?

"They meant a lot to you, didn't they."

"More than you can imagine."  Clark stood up and walked toward
the back door.  "Anyway, I've kept you from your world events.
I have to go out and break up the ice on the water so the
animals will have something to drink.  I also need to check on
the chicken coop to make sure the heaters are working."  Clark
began putting on his coat, gloves and a hat.  Sitting down on a
small stool, he slipped his rubber boot protectors over his
cowboy boots.  "Just leave everything on the table.  I'll get to
it when I get back."  Clark turned toward the door, and grasped
the doorknob.  "Make yourself at home.  There's a TV and
satellite receiver in the den.  The phone still works.  Feel
free to call anyone you want.  Friends, family," he paused ever
so slightly, not daring to hope, "husband, boyfriend--"  He
broke off when he caught her laughing.  "What?"

"Just go!  Do your farm things, I'll be fine here.  Maybe I'll
call my sister in a while."

Clark tried to think of something to say.  She hadn't actually
answered his unasked question.  Still, she was right.  He needed
to get to his chores.  He felt himself smile as he took in her
happy features once again.  Then he opened the door and exited
quickly before too much cold air came into the house.

***

Lois watched as Clark trudged through the blowing wind and snow
toward the barn.  So many thoughts and emotions were running
through her mind, she didn't know what to do.  She watched until
he disappeared inside the barn, then stared at the swirling
patterns the blowing snow made on the landscape outside.

Sighing heavily, she realized she should call her sister and let
her know where she was and what was going on.  She was supposed
to be in Wichita and then Dallas today and in Austin on Sunday.
If the weather didn't let up, she wasn't going to make any of it.
Besides, if they had been watching the news at all, they knew
about the blizzard and would want to know she was safe.

She turned around and spotted the dishes cluttering the small
dining table.  Clark had said to just leave everything, but she
didn't feel right about that.  He had, after all, opened his
home to her, cooked her two outstanding meals, and had probably
saved her life last night.  He had definitely done more than his
fair share.

She quickly cleared the table, put the leftovers in the
refrigerator and washed the dishes by hand.  A movement
outside caught her eye.  Looking out the window, she saw Clark
carrying an ax as he trudged through the nearly knee deep snow.
He stopped in front of a large, round metal tank and began
chopping at the ice in it.  Soon, horses emerged from behind
the barn and began lining up by the tank.

He continued chopping, moving around the tank so several of the
animals could drink at one time.  When he was done, he spent
several minutes interacting with them.  He would talk to them,
pat them on the back, and rub their heads.  He seemed to treat
them with gentleness, and they responded in kind.  She watched
as he leaned against the wind and made his way through the deep
snow towards a smaller out building where she assumed the
chickens were.

She wondered, for the hundredth time, who Clark Kent *really*
was.  She knew so little about him, and yet she felt like she
had known him for quite some time.  He was friendly, honest,
easy to talk to....  And very easy to look at, her innermost
voice piped in.  Yes, very easy to look at.  What's a handsome,
all around good guy like him, doing on a little farm in the
middle of Kansas?  Probably the only place in the world you'll
find a man like Clark, she answered herself.  As far as she was
concerned, he belonged to a dying breed.  The
all-around-good-guy.  She had certainly had plenty of experience
with the breed of man Metropolis had to offer.  Had her fill of
them, as a matter of fact.  Lois thought of her experiences with
Luthor and nearly lost her breakfast....  But that was over now,
she reassured herself.

Putting the dishtowel neatly on the counter to dry, Lois turned
from the window and began searching for a phone.  There was one
right in the kitchen.  She picked it up and listened for a dial
tone.  Sure enough, there was still one present.  She had her
doubts as to how much longer that would last given the current
state of the weather.  Using her calling card, she dialed Lucy's
number.

"< < Hello? > >"

"Lucy!  Lois here."

"< < Lois!  Gosh, it's great to hear from you.  Mom, Dad and I
were beginning to get a little worried. > >"

"Mom and Dad are there already?"  Poor Lucy.

"< < Yes, would you believe they came together?  They caught an
early flight. > >"

Surprises never cease.  "Wow.  Well, I called to tell you I'm
going to be late.  I've managed to get stuck smack in the middle
of a Kansas blizzard."

"< < Oh, no.  Are you all right? > >"

"I'm fine.  I've had some trouble with my Jeep.  I ran off the
road and broke something."

"< < Oh, geez.  Where are you? > >"

"I'm at a farm owned by a man named Clark Kent, outside of a
town called Smallville--"

"< < Clark Kent?  Just like that writer, huh?  Are you sure
you're going to be okay there?  I mean, suppose the guy's an ax
murderer or something. > >"

A writer *and* an ax murderer?  "Lucy, there's nothing
mysterious about Clark.  He's a nice guy who happens to be
helping out someone in need."

"< < Oh, I'm sure he is.  Is he good looking?  If he's a
farmboy, he's probably pretty buff and looks good in a set of
Wrangler jeans. > >"

God, the girl would never grow up.  Images of Clark's obviously
well cared for body, and her earlier perusal of his
Wrangler-clad backside flashed in her mind.  "'Good' isn't a
word that does justice to describe the way he looks in his
jeans," she conceded.

"< < All right! > >"

"Regardless," Lois put in before Lucy could go any further,
"what's this about a writer?"

"< < His name, Clark Kent.  Just like that writer who's
written all those travel books.  You know, the 'Adventures
In...' series?  I bought several when I thought about taking a
trip overseas about a year ago. > >"

Lois remembered the books well.  She had snuck a peek or two at
some of them from time to time, daydreaming of taking a vacation
to some far off land.  Could it be?  He had mentioned that he
had done some world traveling.  And he had a living room full of
mementos.  He also said something about doing some writing from
time to time.

"< < You don't think he's--? > >"

"I'm not sure.  Some of the things he's said--I'll have to ask
him when he gets back in."  You better believe I'm going to ask.

"< < So, sis, when should we expect you...assuming you survive
the wilds of Kansas and that ax murderer you've managed to get
stuck with. > >"

"Always the optimist, I see."

"< < Compared to you, I'm-- > >"

"All right, all right.  Enough.  So I'm a bit cynical at times.
Anyway, we can't get the Jeep out until it clears up some more.
The wind here is blowing so hard, you can only see about a 100
feet or so.  Then, I have to hope I can find someplace to fix it
in Smallville."

"< < Is that really the name of the place?  Smallville? > >"

Lois smiled.  "I couldn't believe it either, but yes.  Even if I
do find someone who can fix it there, I don't know if it would do
any good.  The interstates are closed down.  I thought about
driving on to Wichita and trying to catch a plane from there."

"< < This close to Christmas?  Good luck.  Even if you could get
to Wichita and they haven't closed the airport, I doubt they
would have room on any flights.  < sigh >  I guess you're going
to get your Christmas wish after all. > >"

"Wish?  What wish?"

"< < Not to have to spend Christmas with us. > >"

Just over twenty-four hours ago, Lois had indeed wished that she
didn't have to spend Christmas with her family.  Now, when faced
with that very fact, she felt tears welling up in her eyes.

"Hey, Lucy."  Her voice broke with emotion.  "Trust me when I say
I'm all talk."  She took a moment to blink back some tears.  "I'm
going to miss you guys.  A lot."

"< < Oh, Lois.  Now you've got me crying. > >"  There was a
pause on the other end of the line.  "< < We'll miss you too.
Hold on while I get Mom and Dad on the line. > >"

"No, Lucy, you don't--"

"< < Hello, Princess.  I hear you might not make it for Christmas
this year. > >"

"Hi, Daddy.  I'm sorry.  I'll do everything I can to get there."

"< < Don't worry about it, honey.  That blizzard has everything
north of here shut down.  I wouldn't be surprised if your mother
and I are stuck here for a few days. > >"

Lois could hear Lucy's shout of horror in the background and smiled.

"< < Hi, honey, > >" Lois heard Ellen say.  She must have picked
up a second line.

"Hi, Mom."

"< < You just stay put.  I don't want you getting yourself lost
or killed trying to get here. > >"

Lois rolled her eyes.  Mothers.  "Yes, mother."  It didn't help
that Ellen's words had a ring of truth to it as Lois' still
slightly painful forehead reminded her.

"< < Where are you again?  Smalltown? > >"

"Smallville.  Actually, I'm at a farm outside of Smallville.  I
never managed to get to the town." There was a moment of silence
on the other end.

"< < Lois, dear, are you sure you're going to be all right
there? > >"  Lois could hear the concern in her father's voice.

Lois looked out the kitchen window to see Clark dragging a
makeshift sled, loaded down with several bales of hay, toward
one of the many outbuildings on the farm.  Did she trust this
man?  She wasn't known for her trust in men, or anyone for that
matter.  But something about him just felt...right.

"Yes.  I'm going to be perfectly fine."  She couldn't imagine it
being any other way.

"< < All the same, > >" her Mother said, "< < do you have a
number where we can reach you? > >"

That was probably a good idea, Lois considered.  She searched
the front of the phone and found a number and read it off to
them.  After a few more moments of chatting, they bid each other
farewell.  That had been harder than she would have imagined.

***

Lois wandered out of the kitchen looking for the den that Clark
had mentioned containing the TV and satellite receiver.  As
she walked around, she noticed a lot of pictures of Clark with
two older people, presumably his parents, or just of the two
older people.  There were very few exceptions.  Also notably
absent were Christmas decorations of any kind.  They were all
thoughts to ponder later as she found a room that had to be the
den.

There was, indeed, a television and satellite box, along with a
VCR and full stereo system.  The walls were covered with
shelving, holding everything from books and magazines to CD's,
videotapes and an occasional picture or knickknack.  In one
corner was a desk with an impressive computer system on it.
It would seem that although Clark lived in the country, he liked
having a high-tech connection to the rest of the world.

Lois browsed the shelves' contents casually, trying to pick up a
sense of the person who had collected these things.  She was
surprised to find a wide range of topics, covering nearly
everything imaginable--and some things that weren't.  That was
when she spotted a complete set of the "Adventures In..."
books.  In hardback, no less.  Quickly, she pulled the first
volume off the shelf and opened it up.  Inside the front cover
was a handwritten note from someone congratulating Clark on his
first published book.  There was also a piece of loose-leaf
paper with another hand-written note about his first
best seller.

"Oh my gosh!  He *is* that Clark Kent!"  What in the heck was an
accomplished author like him doing out in the middle of nowhere
feeding cows and chickens and plowing up the ground?  She
quickly counted the volumes in the series.  "He's got, five
best sellers here, and he's out dragging bales of dead grass
around in the snow!"  It was almost more than she could
imagine.

She, herself, had always wanted to be that accomplished a
writer.  Her work for the Planet was satisfying, and she had
numerous awards to show for her efforts.  But to have a
best seller, let alone five of them....  She was going to have
to ask him about this later.  No way was she going to let him
off the hook.  She slipped the book back on the shelf and turned
toward the television.

It only took her a minute or two to figure out the controls and
get the satellite tuned to LNN.  As she expected, the picture
wasn't all that great, the snow no doubt hindering reception.
The sound was coming in fine, however.  She wondered if clearing
some snow off the dish outside would make a difference.  Her
thoughts were interrupted by the news anchor.

"< < ...existence of a 'Guardian Angel' has been a curiosity at
best.  Many believe there are logical reasons for every supposed
sighting.  Still, many people claim to have seen or to have been
helped by a mysterious force during extreme crisis situations.
This unknown benefactor was quickly named the Guardian Angel by
the public at large.  Experts have been at odds for months as to
the validity of a true guardian angel. > >"

"< < Today, however, the mystery of the existence of a guardian
angel has been solved.  Or, at least proven to many people's
satisfaction.  As the rest of the mid-west huddled together
indoors, away from the chilling blizzard that has gripped
America's heartland, the sleepy little town of Burlington,
Kansas was about to be thrust into the limelight. > >"

The screen switched to show a computer-generated map of Kansas
with a little star labeled Burlington.

"< < Burlington, Kansas is the home of the Wolf Creek nuclear
power plant that supplies enough energy to power a million homes
across the mid-west.  Late last night, ice build-up on the power
grid and transformer stations threatened to shut the whole
system down.  Kevin Morris, of the local LNN affiliate in
Wichita, reports. > >"

The scene changed to show stock footage of an aerial shot of the
Wolf Creek power plant.  The reporter's voice was obviously
coming from over a phone.

"< < Last night, Wolf Creek officials were alerted to a
potentially life-threatening situation as ice from the
tremendous storms ravaging the Kansas landscape began building
up on the power grid that supplies electricity to a large part
of the mid-west. > >"

Again, the scene shifted, changing to a computer generated
animation of the power plant.

"< < Ice began forming on the wires and structures that
transport the electricity from the generation plant, out to the
thousands of users across the countryside.  The weight of this
ice reached a critical point around midnight last night.
Officials, meeting to determine what could be done, were
notified the worst was beginning to happen. > >"

The animation on screen showed ice building up until the large
steel structures started to buckle under the weight.

"< < The weight of the ice became too great for the surrounding
structures to support any longer and began to slowly crumble.
As officials watched security cameras in horror, their worst
fears were being realized.  And then, like an angel dropping
from the sky, a miraculous savior came.  Here, now, is footage
taped by the power plant's security cameras. > >"

Lois couldn't believe it!  Her story had been blown wide open on
national television.  Anger rose within her, only to be replaced
with simple awe as she watched the video unfold.  The pictures
were small and grainy, but they clearly showed an individual
seemingly dropping from the night sky, into the clearly lit area
around the power grid.

This individual then grabbed the leaning transformer platform
and lifted it back into place, pausing, then releasing the
structure.  She heard the reporter say that plant officials had
confirmed that the structure had somehow been welded back into
place, and that the platform weighed several hundred tons.
Tons!  And this person, or thing, had just lifted it like it
weighed nothing!  Then, as she watched, the ice appeared to be
disappearing.

"< < Plant officials again confirmed that the ice was completely
removed from the structures and wires, and that the power grid
suffered no other damage.  Just as quickly as the Angel
appeared, it left again when the job was finished.  Officials
are now working on a contingency plan.... > >"

The rest of the commentary was lost to Lois as her attention was
immediately gripped by the individual in the video.  As she
watched, he had simply lifted off the ground and--floated
away.  Lois sat back and realized her mouth was open.  Shocked,
amazed, angry--scared.  All these emotions ran though her.  She
knew there was a story there.  Perry and the others had been
reluctant to give in to her demands, but she had had a feeling
about this 'Guardian Angel' thing, and it looked like she was
right.  Again.

Lois remembered seeing an atlas on the bookshelf.  She retrieved
it and opened it up to the Kansas map.  She found Burlington
quickly and was shocked at how close it was to Smallville.
"It's practically in the backyard!  Of all the rotten luck...."
Her Jeep was buried under who knows how much snow, it was
broken, and her chances of actually getting to Burlington in
this weather were slim.  "Just my luck.  I'm practically on top
of the story of the century and I'm landlocked."

Knowing journalism like she did, it wouldn't take long for
someone to start digging into this story.  If she were lucky,
she'd be ahead of the pack with the research she had already
done.  Lois got up and retrieved her briefcase from the other
room.  The den had a large coffee table perfectly suited to hold
her notes while she looked over the data.

After about an hour and a half, she had mapped out all the known
occurrences of possible Guardian Angel activity.  She sat back
and immediately noticed the slightly heavier grouping of
sightings in the mid-western section of the United States.  Both
coasts had activity, but not nearly as much as the innermost
states.  Also, most activity was related to rescues during
natural phenomena--storms, earthquakes, that sort of thing.
Next were man-made disasters.  Until now, no one had any proof
that an individual had been responsible for the miracles
being reported.  Eyewitness accounts had varied so much, they
were largely blown off by the media.  There had to be something
she was missing.

She looked at her watch and realized how much time had gone by.
Her stomach was politely reminding her that it was time for
lunch back in Metropolis.  The thought of more of Clark's home
cooking caused her stomach to rumble with anticipation.  Where
was Clark anyway?  Surely, he wasn't still outside in this
weather?  She got up and headed for the kitchen to see if she
could see him out by the barn.

***

Clark opened the back door of the house just as Lois came into
the kitchen.  He looked up into her face and saw a beaming smile
greeting him.  His knees trembled and threatened to give out from
under him.  It was a sensation he was unused to.  He could
literally carry the weight of a mountain on his shoulders, and
yet this small, beautiful creature before him made him weak.  He
returned her smile.  "Hello!  Were you beginning to think I'd
gotten lost?"

"I admit I was beginning to get a little worried.  I don't know
that much about the weather around here or what happens on a
farm, but you have been out in that cold for quite some time."

Clark had been taking his coat and gloves off, and had just
turned around after kicking off his boot protectors.  He came
face to face with her.  She had walked right up to him while his
back was turned.  He stood helpless as she took one of his hands
in hers.

"Wow.  Your hands are so warm.  I was sure you would have frost
bite or something."  She looked at his hands as if to visually
confirm they were all right.

Her touch ignited something deep within him, and his heart ached
so much he thought his chest would burst.  She looked up into
his eyes.  < Don't even think it, Clark > his inner voice warned.
< She's going to be leaving soon.  Besides, what if she starts to
question you about your hands?  She's an *investigative*
reporter! >

"I--I had gloves on.  And I was in the barn a lot of the time.
It's warmer in there."  He pulled his hand from hers slowly,
still looking her in the eyes.  He felt his face grow hot as he
blushed.  He quickly turned his eyes away from that face.  In
that instant, he knew it was too late to keep the inevitable pain
away.  She would leave, and he would be alone--again.  It was
better that way, wasn't it?

"I thought you might be getting hungry.  It's about lunch time in
Metropolis." Clark moved toward the pantry and opened the door.
He heard Lois laugh behind him, the sound ingraining itself into
his brain.  He would never be able to forget that laugh now.

"Clark, you don't have to work so hard to please me.  I'm fine."

"It's no problem, really.  You are my guest.  I want to make sure
everything is all right."  He turned back toward the table, a
loaf of bread and some jars of homegrown canned vegetables in
his hands.  He noticed the table had been cleared.  "Oh!  Thanks,
Lois.  You didn't have to, I could have cleaned things up."

"No problem.  You have done so much to help me, I felt like
repaying you a little.  What's for lunch?  Need any help?"

He started to protest, but caught the look of disapproval on her
face.  "Well, you could set the table.  I thought we would heat
up some of the leftover stew, and have a sandwich with it.  I've
got some homemade pickles and some pickled vegetables if you
would like."

"Sounds good to me."  She turned and started opening cabinets,
searching for bowls, plates, and silverware.

Clark began heating the stew on the stove.  He could hear her
movements behind him, but he didn't dare turn to look.  He was
afraid he would end up just gawking at her, and that would make
him look foolish.  The longer he was around her, the less in
control he felt.  He had to concentrate.  Stay focused.  All it
would take would be one little slip, and she would pounce on
it.  Clark was sure of it.  He had read some of her articles.
He had seen first hand how she reacted on impulse.  If he wasn't
careful, he was doomed.  Clark couldn't afford to let her get
him off balance.  Still, she was wonderful to be with.

After everything was ready, and they had eaten for a few moments
in relative silence, he heard her clear her throat.  He looked up
at her questioningly.

"I was wondering," she said, "what the weather was like out there
and if you thought it would be possible to go take a look at my
Jeep."

Clark looked back down into his bowl, trying to hide the
disappointment he was sure was on his face.  "Well, it's not
nearly as bad as it looks.  I don't think it's snowing any
longer.  All that stuff in the air is just blowing around from
somewhere else.  I can get the tractor ready pretty quickly.  I
need to go and check on the cattle anyway."

"Great!"  Lois looked at him intensely.  "I just found out the
most amazing news.  Have you heard of the 'Guardian Angel'?"

< Oh no!  Not that, anything but that! > his mind screamed.
He continued to look at the food in his bowl.  "I think I might
have read a report or two about it."

"Not it, *him*!"

"Him?"  Clark could feel his pulse rising.  Could she really know
anything?

"Him.  He was captured on videotape at some nuclear power
plant, Wolf something or other, **right here in Kansas**," she
accented the last four words by jabbing her finger on the table
with each word.

Clark felt the color drain from his face.  "You're kidding."
It was barely a whisper.

Lois didn't seem to notice, she was too excited.  "Nope.  It was
all over LNN this morning.  He floated down out of the sky,
lifted that, that platform like it was made of cardboard," she
stood up to pace around the kitchen.  "He somehow welded the
supports in place, *and* melted the ice.  Then, he just--floated
away again."  Lois turned back to look at him.

Clark blinked.  "Floated."  She nodded her head at him.  He had
better try to see what he could do about this.  He had just
reacted last night, and he didn't think about any cameras.  He
stood up and gathered the dishes from the table and went to put
them in the sink.

"How do you know it was this 'Guardian Angel'?  How do you know
it was a *him*?"  Clark opened the refrigerator door and put the
butter away.

"I just know!  Who else would it have been?  I've been
researching these 'Guardian Angel' sightings for months!
There was a big story there, I just felt it."  She had become
quite animated, and he could hear the passion and intensity in
her voice.  Just like he feared!  Lois Lane was hot on his
trail.

Lois continued pacing.  "As for how I knew it was a him, well,
the video was obvious.  He had wide shoulders, a slim waist...."
She turned to take in Clark's well-toned form.  As she recited
the physical traits of the person on the screen, she couldn't
help but look at the accompanying part on the man in front of
her.  "Thick thighs, and a..." her voice was getting softer as
she felt herself being drawn closer toward him.

Clark was busy putting items away in the cupboard and had his
back to her.  He noticed her voice getting softer, so he turned
around.  "Pardon?"  He was nearly face to face with her again.
She seemed to have a knack for sneaking up on him.  A trait that
made him nervous.  She wasn't looking in his eyes this time, she
was looking at his--

"...broad, muscular chest."  She couldn't pull her eyes away from
it.  Before she knew it, her hands were laying on the very broad,
muscular chest she had just been looking at.  With a gasp, she
looked up into Clark's face.  He locked eyes with her, fear
evident in his gaze.  Lois felt her face redden instantly.  "I'm--
I'm sorry!"  She jerked her hands away quickly and took a step
back, then another one for good measure.  "I'm sorry, I don't
know what got into--"

Clark cleared his throat.  At first, he had feared she had
somehow found out.  Now, he could see she was only embarrassed by
her actions.  He quickly tried to make her feel at ease.  "No,
don't worry, it's okay."  He gave her a quick smile to back it
up.

She seemed to relax a little.  "Look, I, um.  I sort of took
over the coffee table in your den.  I hope you don't mind.
Research and all."

"I don't mind."

"Anyway, I was sort of using this trip to my sister's house to do
some research on the 'Guardian Angel.'  When the news came out
this morning, I wanted to go back over my stuff.  The media will
be all over this, and I want to make sure no one steals *my*
story."

"Your story?"

"*My* story.  I was the one who thought this was worth looking
into when no one else thought so.  I was the one who...." She
stopped to look at Clark's grinning face.  "Sorry.  I'm a bit--
intense at times."

"No problem.  So, you want to get your Jeep working so you can
continue working on your story."  If he could get her Jeep
working, then she might leave before she uncovered anything.
This was great!  So, why didn't he feel like it?

"Right!"

He watched her closely to see what her reaction would be to his
next suggestion.  "You could come with me in the tractor.  We
could check on the cattle, then go look for your Jeep."  Why he
was suggesting this, he didn't know.  < Just get rid of her! >
his mind was yelling.  His heart was somehow in control now,
however.

"Great idea!  I'd love to be able to say I've ridden in a
tractor.  Well, I can already say that, but I want to be able to
remember it this time."

They both laughed.

"The problem is your clothing," Clark said.

"What's wrong with them?" she was busy looking herself over.

"I don't think they are going to be warm enough.  The coat I
found you in isn't.  And neither are the clothes I've seen you
in so far.  Did you bring anything else?"

"I have lots of clothes in the Jeep.  Probably nothing as heavy
as you think I'll need."

"Don't worry.  You can wear some of my stuff.  It will be a
little big, but it will keep you warm.  We'll go as soon as you
can get ready."

"Great!"  She flashed that wonderful smile at him again, and he
couldn't help but smile back.

***

Lois sat on the bed as she tried to pull her jeans over the
baggy thermal underwear Clark had loaned her.  She didn't know
if she had gained some weight, or if her jeans had shrunk, but
it was not going well at all.  Trying to cram her
baggy-thermal-underwear clad legs into her too tight jeans was
proving to be more difficult than she had imagined.

Clark had insisted that she wear them, explaining how layers of
clothing were warmer.  She knew that as well.  But her jeans
just were not made to hold both her leg and the copious amounts
of the thermal underwear.  Just when she thought she was going
to make it, the underwear would bunch up and the feeling of the
lump would drive her crazy.  After about the tenth try, she
finally got the jeans on to her satisfaction.

She picked up the flannel shirt Clark had given her to wear over
her own clothes.  Instinctively, she put it up to her nose and
inhaled.  She could smell the aromas that made up what she
immediately identified as Clark Kent.  She was shocked to find
that she had closed her eyes and had spent several seconds just
breathing in the manness of the clothing.

"Get a grip, Lane," she muttered as she put the shirt on and
buttoned it up.  She left it hanging loose; there was no way she
was going to get all that extra cloth tucked into her already
too tight jeans.  She sat down and pulled on the spare galoshes
that Clark had dug up from somewhere to keep her feet and shoes
from getting wet.  Outside, she heard the distinctive rumble of
a diesel motor getting closer as Clark pulled the huge tractor
up close to the house.  Picking up the large, heavy coat,
stocking cap and gloves Clark had also provided, she headed down
the stairs and towards the kitchen door.

***

Clark waited by the back door for Lois.  He had already resigned
himself to the fact that she would be leaving soon.  A part of
him was relieved.  The other wasn't so happy.  Well, no sense in
wasting time on it, wallowing in his emotions and self doubt.  He
would just act normally (whatever that meant) and enjoy her
company while it lasted.  He heard her coming down the steps.

"You look like you'll be warm enough," he said with just a hint
of humor in his voice.

"I should be, with all these clothes on.  I feel like that kid in
the movie 'A Christmas Story.'  You know the one who can't put
his arms down because his Mom has so many clothes on him?"

Clark laughed.  "It's not that bad.  Besides, once that wind hits
you, you'll be glad I insisted."  He opened the door for her and
motioned her outside.  He closed the door behind him, and grabbed
her just under the arm, guiding and steadying her as they made
their way through the snow to the tractor.

He climbed up the ladder and opened the door, then reached down
behind him to offer her his hand as she climbed up the ladder
after him.  He made his way into the cabin, and sat down on the
seat, and waited for her to get in as well.  Once she was inside,
he told her where to sit, and then he shut the door.

"Oh, God, it's cold out there.  I take back every bad thing I
said while I was getting dressed," Lois said as she rubbed her
hands together.

Clark put the tractor into gear and drove out the driveway and
down the road, heading east.  "I need to check on the cattle
first, I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all.  It's your farm, after all.  If I happen to
lose my story to someone else because we were too busy breaking
up ice while the world was scrambling to find out more about the
'Guardian Angel,' then I'll just have to come back and kill you."

She had said it in such a casual manner that for an instant,
Clark wasn't sure if she was kidding or not.

Lois' little laugh gave her away, however.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you.  Maim you maybe.  Cause you to
forever regret the day you stood in Lois Lane's path toward her
ultimate achievement in journalistic history most likely."

Clark interrupted.  "If you're really that anxious to be on your
way, I can get my neighbor to check on the cattle."  He was a bit
snappier in his comment than he meant to be.  He reached up and
grabbed the mic of the CB radio mounted from the ceiling of the
cab.

Lois looked shocked.  "Oh, no!  I'm sorry, I was just kidding.
Mostly.  I admit, I'm--paranoid that someone will beat me to my
story.  It's from a lesson I learned a long time ago in the
business.  Sometimes I go a little over the top when I'm chasing
down a story."

Clark sighed, and put the mic back in its holder. "I'm sorry I
snapped at you like that.  I'm not used to dealing with--" he
took a quick glance in her direction, "--people."

"High-strung, emotional, impulsive, big-city people, you mean?"
Lois made sure to put the right amount of humor in her voice.

"Right," Clark smiled.

"By the way, I've got a bone to pick with you," Lois suddenly
shot at him.

"Me?"

"Yes, Mr. Best Seller."

"Oh, that."  His tone of voice mirrored the fact that he didn't
think it was that important.

"Yes, that!  How could you keep something like that from me?"

"Keep it from you?  I didn't keep it from you, I told you I did
some traveling and some writing."

"But we're talking about you being a best selling writer.  Not
just once, but *five* times!"  She held up her gloved hand as if
to show him just how many five of something was.

"It's not that big a deal--"

"Not that big a deal!?!?  Are you kidding?  I'd kill to be that
accomplished a writer!  Just one best seller, let alone five."

Clark looked up at the wonder in her voice.  "Lois, the truth is,
those books were my form of therapy.  I needed something to do to
keep my mind off the loss of my parents.  I don't care what the
rest of the world thinks about them.  They served their purpose
for me, and that's all I care about."

They rode along in silence for a while.  Clark started to feel
guilty, thinking he was a bit too heavy handed in his dismissal
of her excitement over his books.  He sighed heavily to himself.
"Anyway, you're no stranger to things like this.  You have
millions of people reading what you write every single day.  I
know you have a few Kerth awards, too."

"You know about those?  Oh, right, you have a journalism degree.
Well, on some level, I know my articles are read my millions
everyday.  But, everyday, those same millions throw it away, or
use it in a bird cage or something."  She could just hear Perry's
voice reciting all the things people use a newspaper for,
whenever he felt a reporter was getting a little too big headed.
His speech never failed to bring people back down to earth.

"The Kerths are worth a few hours in the lime-light, and then
they sit on a shelf gathering dust, everyone forgetting who won
them a month afterwards."

Clark laughed.  "What do you think happens to best sellers?  They
end up on people bookshelves, collecting dust, forgotten after a
month or so."

"That's not true," Lois immediately answered.

"Sure it is.  What was the best seller last month, and who wrote
it?" Clark challenged.

Lois thought for a moment, but couldn't remember.  She was
unwilling to admit she was wrong, however. "People would
remember your books more if you included an author photo of
yourself in your books.  I noticed none of yours have that."

Clark looked back out the windshield of the tractor.  That had
been his decision.  His editor and publisher had fought him
over that for quite some time, but he was insistent--no
photos.  He wanted to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

Not noticing his reluctance to talk about it, Lois plunged on.
"After all, I bet you'd sell even more books with that gorgeous
face on the cover."  She was immediately shocked the words had
actually escaped her mouth.  She quickly looked down to see if
he'd heard.  His wide grin, and rose-colored cheeks told her
he had.

Desperate to change the subject and smooth over her verbal slip,
Lois looked out the window of the door, down at the ladder.
"Clark?"

"Yes?"

"How in the world did you manage to get me into this cab the
other night?"  She turned to look at him expectantly.

Clark kept his eyes focused out the window in front of him.
"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm not that heavy, but I'm not that light either.  I
know how hard it was for me to climb up that little ladder, hold
the door open, and scoot inside.  You would have had to carry me
up that ladder."

"Well, yes, I--I suppose I did carry you."

"How?"

"What do you mean?  I carried you--with my arms."

Lois rolled her eyes.  "No need to get all defensive about it, I
was just wondering.  I mean, did you sling me over your shoulder,
or what?  It couldn't have been easy," she looked down at the
ladder again.  "You look like a strong guy, but still."

This was getting into uncomfortable territory again.  "To be
honest, Lois, I'm not sure how I did it.  One minute, I was
picking you up off the frozen road, the next, I had you lying on
my couch at home under a bunch of quilts."  That was more or less
how it had happened.  He had just reacted when he had seen her.

"Getting back down must have been a real struggle."

Clark needed to change the subject.  "Actually, lugging your
bags around was worse.  What is it with women that they can't
pack light?"

He could tell by the fire and laughter in her eyes he had
succeeded.

***

"Oh my gosh!  Somebody buried my Jeep!"

After they had checked on the cattle, they had stopped back by
the farmhouse so Clark could attach a snowblade to the large
tractor.  From there, it had taken little time to go the three
miles down the road to where Lois' Jeep was stranded.  Sure
enough, her Jeep was just barely visible under a large mound of
snow.

"Well, I think Mother Nature had something to do with it, but I
also think the County's been through here at least once with the
snowplows."

"What am I going to do now?"

Clark could see the hurt and desperation in Lois' eyes as she
looked to him for help.  At that moment, he would have moved
mountains to make her happy.  Luckily for him, all she wanted was
her Jeep removed.  That he could handle, and even keep his secret
safely protected at the same time.

"Don't worry.  I'll use the blade on the tractor to move away
most of the snow.  Then we'll hook a strap on and pull it out.
It shouldn't be a problem."  He was rewarded with a look of hope
that said she had total confidence in his abilities to get her
out of the situation she was in.

"What can I do?"  Lois knew she needed help, but wasn't about to
let Clark do everything himself.

"Well, after I get most of the snow moved out of the way with the
tractor, you can grab one of the spare shovels and start
shoveling."

For the next ten minutes, Clark skillfully maneuvered the large
tractor with a finesse that Lois wasn't sure she would have been
capable of believing if she hadn't seen it herself.  In no time,
Clark had managed to nearly free her Jeep from its frozen
grave.  He pulled the tractor fully up on the roadway and parked
it.

"Now, all we have to do is use a little man-power to get rid of
the rest."

"And woman-power," Lois added as she opened the door of the
tractor and climbed down the ladder.  Her feet crunched loudly
on the packed snow of the roadway.  Clark landed beside her and
then pulled out two shovels he had stashed when they had stopped
at the farm earlier.

Together they made their way down to the Jeep and began clearing
the snow away from the driver's side and the front.  Clark,
being taller, also removed as much snow from the roof of the
vehicle as he could.

After about ten minutes of shoveling in silence, Lois held up her
hand.  "Time...out."  She was out of breath.  Before, she was
cold, now she was sweating.  She leaned on the fender of her
Jeep and unbuttoned the heavy coat she was wearing.

"Whoa!  Am I out of shape or what?"  Lois looked at Clark and
noticed he looked perfectly normal.  He didn't appear to be
sweating and his cheeks weren't even rosy, like she knew hers
were.

"How do you do it, Clark?"

"Do what?"  He continued shoveling snow from in front of the
Jeep.  They nearly had it free now.

"I'm over here sweating up a storm now, out of breath," she put
her hands on her cheeks, "and my cheeks are probably a nice color
of red.  You, on the other hand, don't even look out of breath."

Clark tossed the last shovel full of snow away from the Jeep and
then turned to her and shrugged.  "I'm used to it, I guess.  I've
lived here all my life."  The deflecting was becoming easier and
easier.  Still, he knew it would only be a matter of time before
Lois found out, about him.  If she stayed.  Which she wasn't.

"Oh.  Lucky you."

Clark could feel her eyes on him.  "I'm going to go get the tow
straps.  We should have you out of here in no time."  He turned
around quickly and made his way out of the ditch toward the
tractor.

Lois couldn't put her finger on it, but something strange had
just happened.  One minute, Clark would be all friendly and
carefree.  The next, he would be quiet, and withdrawn.  Maybe
that was just the way people acted out here in the wilds of
Mid-America.

Clark returned and disappeared under the front of her Jeep, a
large strap in one hand.  He began digging the snow out from
under the bumper, so Lois bent down to join him.  After they had
cleared out enough snow for Clark to secure the strap to the
frame of the Jeep, he got up.

"Well, that should do it.  I think it would be safest if you got
back in the tractor with me.  That way, if the strap breaks, no
one will get hurt."

"Sounds good to me."

They climbed back out of the ditch and Clark let Lois go up the
ladder first.  He settled himself in the drivers seat, then
backed the tractor into the ditch, just in front of the Jeep.

"Excuse me, Lois."  He moved past her, his body making multiple
points of contact with hers.  It was impossible not to,
considering the limited size of the cab.

Lois watched Clark go around behind the tractor towards the
other end of the strap that was tied to her Jeep.  Being this
close to him was intoxicating at times.  She felt her eyes lock
onto him as she admired the way the denim stretched over his
backside.  Lois thought of her earlier conversation with Lucy.
"Oh, Clark.  You do look good in Wranglers."

Lois was shocked and embarrassed to see that Clark's head had
turned around and he was looking straight at her.  She quickly
turned around and looked out the front windshield.  He couldn't
have heard her.  He *couldn't* have.  He must have had that
strange feeling people get when they think someone is watching
them.  Like she had right now.  She took a quick glance over her
shoulder to see that Clark was indeed looking at her.  He
quickly lowered his head and then he hooked the strap to the
tractor.

Seconds later, he was brushing past her, causing her to tingle
everywhere they touched yet again.  He settled into the driver's
seat and put the tractor in gear.

"Here we go.  Watch your Jeep, and make sure everything is all
right.  I'll pull slowly.  Once we get it on the road, you're
going to have to ride in it while we pull it into town."

"Why?"

"So you can steer it and keep it from falling in the ditch
again."  His features took on a worried look.  "Unless there's
something wrong with the steering.  Then we'll have to go into
town and see if we can find a wrecker.  We'll deal with that
once we have it out."

They both turned to watch as Clark slowly inched the large
machine forward, gently taking up the slack in the strap, and
then steadily pulling on the Jeep.  At first, it didn't appear
that anything was happening.  The silver Jeep appeared
permanently attached to the surrounding snow, as it stubbornly
refused to move.  Then, with a lurch, it broke free, and the
tractor easily pulled it up onto the road.

Lois shouted with joy and gave Clark a big hug.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

***

"What do you mean, not till after Christmas!?  I haven't got
time to wait on you to get the stupid parts!  I've got a story
to get!  I've...I've got family to meet!"  Lois threw her hands
in the air and stomped off.

Clark, who was standing next an equally shell-shocked auto
repairman, watched her storm out of the garage that he had
pulled her Jeep to.  After a moment to gather his wits, he
turned to the mechanic.  "Sorry about that, Steve.  I think she's
just a little high-strung."

The middle-aged man turned to him and smiled.  "You've picked up
a feisty one there, you did.  I'd bet money she's from back east
somewhere.  She's got an eastern accent.  Big city girl."

"Metropolis."

"Don't get much bigger than that.  Don't worry too much about it.
Like I said, I'd fix it if I could.  It'll take a while for the
parts to make it here from Wichita, or Emporia.  Especially with
the snow and all."

"I understand.  I'll see if I can talk to her."

The older gentleman grunted.  "Good luck!"

Clark walked outside to find Lois babbling and pacing in front
of the garage.  He just stood back and watched her for a moment.
He never would have thought that she would have had such a
temper!  And strangely enough, it didn't change the way he saw
her.  Here was an independent, intelligent, passionate woman who
lived in a different world from him.  He felt this irresistible
pull to get to know her better.

Lois had noticed Clark watching her, and she stopped sort.  This
whole mess wasn't their fault, only hers.  She realized what
she must look like to them, and regretted losing her temper.
At the time, it had felt good to release some of the pent up
frustrations.  Now, however, she could only imagine what these
simple people thought of her.  That's how she viewed them,
anyhow.  Simple people.  She sighed and walked up to Clark.

"Sorry.  Blew a gasket, I guess.  I should go apologize to the
mechanic."

"Don't worry about it.  I just told him you were a high-strung,
emotional, impulsive, big-city person.  He understood
immediately."

"You're terrible," Lois whacked him on the arm.  "Owwww.  And
solid too."  Lois rubbed her hand as she smiled at him.

"So, do you want me to take you to the motel so you can get a
room?"

Lois' smile faded.  "Ahhhh...."  She wasn't sure she wanted to do
that.  Sure, a minute ago she was ranting about getting her
story.  Now, when faced with the fact that she would be going
away, leaving Clark's company, she could feel herself waffling.
< This is crazy, Lois.  He's a farmer, you're an investigative
reporter after the story of the century.  *Investigate*! >
"Sure.  Lead on."

Even though he knew what the answer had to be, it still hurt
just a tiny little bit.  Clark tried to tell himself he knew this
was going to happen, but it didn't matter.  He tried to be
rational about it, explaining to himself that the longer she
stayed, the more danger his secret would be in.  It didn't
matter.  Deep down, it hurt.

***

Wanda looked up when she heard the doorbell jingle.  She was
surprised to see anyone out in this weather.  Although it wasn't
snowing any longer, there was still a large amount of the stuff
clogging up the roads.  She immediately recognized Clark when he
walked in, but who was with him?

"Hey, Clark!  How's things around your place?"

"Hello, Wanda.  Things are fine."  He stopped in front of the
counter, the woman at his side.  Wanda took a quick assessing
glance at her.  "What can I do for you?"

"I need a room.  My Jeep is in the shop, and I'm stranded until
it can be repaired.  Clark picked me up and brought me to town."

"Oh, that sounds just like Clark," Wanda said to Lois, not
failing to notice how Clark's cheeks reddened slightly.  "Mr.
Boy Scout is what we call him around here."

"Wan-da!"

Everyone laughed as Wanda pulled out the guest book.  "I just
happen to have one room left.  It's normally $49.95 a night, but
since you're a friend of Clark's here, you can have it for $30 a
night."

"Thanks!"  Lois pulled out her credit card, and began to fill out
the form Wanda had handed her.

"Lois, I'm going to go over to Steve's and get your luggage."

"All right, thanks.  Oh!  I've left all my other stuff at your
house.  My research is still there."

He had thought that he would be saying good-bye to her here, in
public.  It would have been easier that way.  He had prepared
himself for a quick break.  The thought of her coming back to his
house made him nearly sick.  The idea of postponing the
inevitable was unbearable.  "I can always bring your stuff back
to you."  He started backing toward the door.  "It's no problem.
You can just stay here and get comfortable."  He exited before
she could say anything else.

"But--"  And he was gone.  Lois looked down at herself.  < What
about your clothes? >  She looked up at Wanda, who looked like
she hadn't witnessed anything out of the ordinary.  "Is he
always like that?"

"Who, Clark?  Oh, sure.  He's a wonderful man, and great
looking, but a bit on the strange side."  Wanda watched the
retreating figure out the front window.  "If I was about fifteen
years younger..." she said wistfully.  "Ah, well.  Everyone
knows Clark's a loner.  It's not from lack of trying by the
female population of Smallville, either."  She handed Lois a key
to her room.

"What do you mean?  Doesn't he have a girlfriend?"

"No," Wanda shook her head, a note of sadness in her voice.
"Clark's a bachelor in every sense of the word.  He's one of the
nicest, friendliest people you'll ever meet.  Always there for
his fellow man, helping in any way he can.  And yet, he's one of
the most private persons I've ever met.  Doesn't get too close
to anyone and doesn't let anyone get too close to him." Wanda
shuffled the paperwork in her hands as she talked.  "I'm
surprised he's still around, actually.  I've always thought he
was looking for something he couldn't find here in Smallville.
He left for a while, but came back when his parents--"  She let
the sentence trail off.

"Yes, he told me about them."  Lois looked out the window for a
moment.  Just who was Clark Kent?  She had this burning desire
to find out, but it seemed like he wanted her to get a motel
room.  He *wanted* her to get a motel room.  Why?  He seemed to
be looking for something he couldn't find in Smallville, and yet
he had stayed here after his parents had died.  Why?  A man as
obviously as good looking and friendly as Clark was a loner.
Why?  Lois' thoughts were interrupted by the jingling of the
door opening.

Wanda waved at the new visitor.  "Hello, Mrs. Cooper!  How are
things?  What brings you out on a day like today?"

A slightly plump, older woman and three round-faced children
literally scurried over to the counter.  "Oh, Wanda, please tell
me you have a room.  Our water main broke and Harry's trying to
get it fixed, but the house is a mess.  I told him to get Mr.
Krumly to come look at it, but he insists on doing it himself.
Water's gotten everywhere."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Cooper, I just rented my last room."

"Oh, no.  Really?"  The woman sighed heavily.

"On second thought, Wanda, I won't be needing a room."  Lois
handed her the key back.

"What?"  Wanda looked a little startled.

"They can have my room.  I'm going to be staying with Clark."

"With Clark?!"

Lois laughed at the look of surprise on the women's faces.  "I'm
sure he won't mind.  Besides, there are some things about Clark
Kent that I'm just dying to find out about."

"But--but--Ms.--" Wanda looked down at the paperwork to get her
name, "--Lane.  Clark's such a...private person.  Are you sure
you will be, um...."

"Welcome?"

The woman nodded her head.

"Why not?  I spent last night there.  He made me feel *more*
than welcome then," Lois said huskily.  She couldn't help
it, the little devil in her just wanted to milk this for all it
was worth.  The two women's mouths were hanging open, and the
look on their faces was priceless.

"Mrs. Cooper, you are more than welcome to my room.  Merry
Christmas."

Clark walked in at that moment, carrying several of her bags.
He looked up to see Lois smiling at him widely.  He looked over
her shoulder to see Mrs. Cooper and Wanda looking at him with
open mouths and wide eyes.  Even the normally rowdy bunch of
Cooper children was staring at him.

"Um, hello Mrs. Cooper; kids."  He looked questionably at Lois.

"Clark, Mrs. Cooper's house has a ruptured water main.  I gave
them my room, since there weren't any others left and I figured
I could stay with you."  Lois walked over and slipped her arm
through his.

At first, she was afraid he was going to protest.  She saw
something almost like fear flash across his features.  He looked
back and forth between Mrs. Cooper and her for several seconds.

"Besides, I need access to a computer.  I want to log onto the
the Internet and gather some more information for my story.  I
noticed you had a computer in your den.  Do you have Internet
access out here?"

"Ahhh.... Sure.  I...um, I--you can log into the net from my
house.  Okay, Lois.  No problem, you can stay as long as you
need."

"Guess you won't have to go get my stuff after all.  Plus, I can
give you back your underwear."

A small squeak escaped from one of the women, and Clark looked
back over at them with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Let me help you get my stuff out to your tractor."  Lois took a
couple of bags from him.  "Will this stuff all fit in the cab?"

"I'm sure we can work out something."  Clark turned to the other
women again.  "Thanks for everything, Wanda.  Mrs. Cooper, hope
you get everything fixed before Christmas.  Kids, be good, I
hear Santa's been seen around here lately."

The looks they were giving him hadn't changed.  It was a little
disconcerting, but Lois tugged on his arm and he quickly forgot
about them.

Outside, Clark noticed Lois was laughing.  "What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry, Clark.  I think I may have damaged your reputation
back there.  Can you ever forgive me?"

Clark had no idea what she was talking about, but her laughter
was infectious and he was sure he could forgive nearly anything
she might have done.  Besides, he had bigger problems on his
hands.  He was going to be spending quite a bit of time with
someone who could bring his life to an end if he wasn't careful.
Not to mention the fact that she was incredibly wonderful to be
with.  He was in trouble, he was sure of it.

***

(Saturday, December 23, 1995, 4:18 p.m. CST)

Lois came downstairs after changing out of the clothes that Clark
had loaned her, and made her way into the den.  Clark was out
putting the tractor away, and checking on things around the farm.
She had asked him if she could use the computer and he had,
naturally, agreed.  He had given her a quick summary of how to
log on to his ISP, and jotted down his password for her.  She was
a bit surprised by his level of trust, but it seemed to fit him.

She turned on Headline-LNN to see if there were any more reports
of the 'Guardian Angel.'  The computer bleeped at her, letting
her know it was done booting and ready.  She quickly figured out
how to get onto Clark's ISP, and was soon checking her email at
the Daily Planet.  She sent Jimmy a silent thank you for
pressuring Perry and the rest of the IT staff into upgrading the
systems.  She noticed with satisfaction a note from Perry
titled "Good Job.  Again."

Headline-LNN didn't have any new information, and from the poking
around she had done online, it seemed no one else had any
information either.  So far, she was still ahead of the pack.
She shut the computer down and turned to look at the bookshelves
again.  Her eye was drawn to Clark's "Adventure's In..." series
and she slipped the first volume off the shelf and sat down to
thumb through it.

It covered Europe, and before she knew it, she had become
engrossed in Clark's writing style.  His easy mannered, casual
writing style felt comfortable and made the reading easy.
Glimpses of his humor shined through from time to time, and Lois
could almost hear his voice reading the words on the page to
her.

The books were billed as narrative travel guides, but now Lois
could see they were almost a manuscript of Clark's travels.  His
easy going style made them a fun read, and he included just
enough hard facts and important information to make them truly
useful as well as entertaining.  It was these attributes that
caused them to be such good sellers.

Lois closed the book and tried to imagine what it would have
been like to travel the world and see the things Clark had
seen.  It certainly didn't fit with his mild-mannered, farmer
facade he was wearing now.  Again she wondered why he was still
here in Kansas, especially after experiencing the rest of the
world and what it had to offer.

Before she could contemplate it too much longer, she heard Clark
calling her name.  She got up, put the book on the shelf and
went out to find him.  She located him in the kitchen, poking
around in the pantry.

"Getting hungry?" he asked as he glanced over his shoulder at
her.  "It's gotten really late.  I'm sorry I didn't get us
something to eat sooner."

"Actually, I hadn't noticed what time it was.  I was reading one
of your books."

Clark turned to look at her.  "Oh?  Which one?"

"Europe.  It's fascinating to read about your adventures."

Clark grimaced.  "I wouldn't call them adventures, myself.  That
was the publisher's decision.  Marketing call."

"I think it fits.  I can almost see you there, living those
events.  Your writing style is very nice."

"Thanks." He seemed a bit uncomfortable.

"Ah!  You don't think you are as good a writer as everyone keeps
telling you."

"Well--"

Lois waved her hand at him.  "I do that all the time.  I'm
constantly finding faults with what I write.  Part of it's just
the perfectionist in me.  I want everything to be just right.
The other is the insecure side of me.  The side that says, just
this once, I wish I could have got it right."

Clark grinned at her and she knew she had figured him out.

"That's pretty much it.  I was never really sure people liked
what I wrote.  I mean, I know my books are classified as 'best
sellers,' but I didn't know if people *really* liked them."

"So, what's for supper?"  Lois moved over to lean against the
counter next to Clark.

"Well, I was just looking to see what I had.  I can whip up some
hash--"

"Hash?!"

One look at Lois' face was enough for Clark.  "Can the hash,
huh?"

"Sorry," Lois shook her head.  "It's just sounds--I dunno."

Clark laughed.  "Don't worry about it.  I have some chili in the
freezer.  It shouldn't take too long to heat up."

"After a day like today, chili sounds good."

Clark got the container out of the freezer and put its contents
into a large pan on the stove.  "Do you mind getting into that
cabinet behind you and getting a couple of bowls?"

Lois turned around and opened the cabinet door.  Behind her, she
heard Clark putting some silverware on the table.

"So, Lois.  What exactly happened at the motel, and why should
I be concerned about my reputation?"

***

Lois and Clark entered the den together after cleaning up the
kitchen.  "Why don't you tell me about your travels, Clark?"
Lois sat down on the couch and looked up at him expectantly.

Clark sat down next to her.  "Why don't you just buy my books
and read about them yourself?" he said with a teasing look in
his eye.

"Oh, I plan on reading more of them.  I just wanted to hear it
from you.  I could almost hear you speaking earlier when I was
reading.  I just want to hear your voice," she said honestly.

Her sincerity caused him to pause.  Hear his voice?  Why?  Was
she looking for something in it?  He cast a quick glance at her
research, which was still spread out from her earlier work.  What
did she have on him?

"I'll tell you what.  You tell me about this 'Guardian Angel'
you're chasing, and I'll tell you about some of my travels."

Lois was taken back with surprise.  She hadn't expected him to
want tit-for-tat.  It didn't fit with the image she had built
up of him as this unselfish, caring, wonderful, giving man.
Could she be wrong: again?  "What do you want with my research?"
she said a little hotly.

"Whoa!  Calm down.  I only wanted to get to know *you* better.
I read your columns from time to time.  I--I'm curious.  About
you, about how you work.  What goes into investigating a big
story for one of the biggest newspapers--"

"*The* biggest newspaper" Lois shot at him.

"--the biggest newspaper in the world.  I was a journalism major,
after all.  I never got to practice my craft much, but I--" he
had to clear his throat, "I want to know."

Lois could hear just the slightest hint of sadness in his voice.
He had dropped out of the journalism field to come home to work
on the farm.  She did everyday what he thought he would be doing.
Looking back on it, she realized it was silly and wrong of her to
automatically assume Clark had ulterior motives.  What did she
expect him to do?  Sleep with her, then take her story and run?
Not everyone was like Claude.  She looked in Clark's eyes.  Clark
wasn't like that.

"Sorry.  Automatic defense mechanisms.  I've had a story or two
taken from me before.  I tend to be a bit territorial.  Didn't
mean to bite your head off."

"No problem.  That's the nice thing about the books I write.  No
one is going to steal my story.  No one is going to beat me to
it, or take it away from me.  It's my story.  It's-- It's *me*."

Lois turned to him, grabbing his hands in hers.  "That's why I
wanted to hear it from you.  To try to experience it *with* you."

They sat that way for a few precious moments.  Hands and eyes
locked with each other.

With great effort, Clark tore his eyes away from her.  "So, what
do you say?  If you show me yours, I'll show you mine?"  He
looked back at her, and Lois noticed the gleam was back in his
eyes.

Lois laughed out loud, then captured his eyes with her own again.
"Careful what you ask for, farmboy.  You just might get it," she
said softly.

She watched in fascination as the redness spread quickly from his
cheeks, up to the tips of his ears and down his throat,
disappearing below the collar of his shirt.

Clark cleared his throat and gently pulled his hands free.
Control.  He needed to control this--this situation; himself.
If he didn't have control, he would be floating six inches off
the ground and then where would he be?  For a split second, he
was tempted to do it anyway.  Then the voice of his father
sounded in his head, and he pushed the temptation away.

Lois was about to burst with curiosity over his reaction.  One
minute, Clark would be open, free and good-natured.  His relaxed,
humorous mood coming very close to what Lois thought was the real
Clark Kent.  Then, suddenly, he would become quiet, introverted,
and moody.  It was as if he was at war with himself over
something.  She wanted so desperately to find out what it was,
but realized that pushing too hard would only do more harm than
good.

Lois patted his knee, then turned to her research.  She filled
him in on all the sightings she had record of.  Then she showed
him her maps and how the concentration of sightings was grouped
to the interior of the country.  Finally, she showed him the
breakdown on the type of emergency.

"I ought to add the latest sighting," Lois said as she put a
marker on the map in Kansas.  "It's so close to here, and yet so
far.  I'd give anything to be there, looking for clues."

She'd noticed Clark had grown quiet, and she turned to look at
him.  His features were completely neutral, and yet she could
almost see the wheels spinning in his head.

"What are you thinking, Clark?"

"What?  Oh, nothing."  He tried to act casual.  Actually, he was
thinking quite a bit.  Lois had pretty much mapped out the
majority of his more significant rescue activities.  And he
could definitely see the pattern she had seen.  He also saw
another pattern.  Possessing the inside knowledge he had helped,
but it was surprising to find that he was beginning to become
involved and interested in her investigation.  Logically, he
should be scared silly, trying everything he could to keep her
away from her research and get her off his farm as soon as
possible.  Somehow, logical thinking and Lois Lane didn't seem
to go together where he was concerned.

"What is it?  You see something, don't you?  Something I've
missed."  Lois looked back at the map again, staring at the
markers, willing them to make sense to her.  Then she saw it.
It slowly took shape, and then it was there.

"The times!  It's the times, isn't it?!"

Clark was impressed.  "You're good."  Maybe too good?

"You saw it first, didn't you?"

"I--"

"Most of these happen in the early evenings, and at night.
Almost all the rescues occur where it's dark."  Lois stood up
and started pacing.  "They move from the East Coast to the West
Coast, just as the night does."

Clark just sat there and watched her, mesmerized.

"But why?  That video of the power plant.  The 'Guardian Angel'
was wearing dark clothing.  Maybe even black.  It almost looked
like he was wearing a hood."  She stopped and turned to Clark.
"It's obvious he wants to hide himself.  My only question is
why?"

"Why?" Clark repeated.  "I think it's obvious!  He, or she," he
ignored the fact that Lois was shaking her head, "wants to remain
anonymous.  They don't want anyone to know who they are."

Lois sat back down on the couch.  "But why?  What has *he* got to
hide?  If he can do these incredible things, and he's obviously
here to help, why hide?"

"How do you know he's here to help?"

Lois pointed to the map.  "Just look at what he's been doing for
the past year or more.  Helping people in need."

"Maybe he's afraid of what people would do to him, once they
found out about him."

"Oh, that's ridiculous.  What are they going to do?  Lock him up?"

"How about digging into every nook and cranny of his life.
Trying to find out what makes him tick.  Cart him off to a lab
somewhere and dissect him like a--"

"You're kidding, right?"

Clark looked at her seriously.  "No.  Look at how determined
*you* are to get some answers.  There are a lot of other people
who aren't as ethical as you are in going about getting what they
want."

Reluctantly, Lois agreed.  "True.  But dissecting him--"

"Don't you think the public would wonder how this person could do
the things he can do?  Think about it.  What would the government
do if someone who could bench press mountains showed up?"

Lois squirmed under Clark's gaze.  "I don't know, exactly."

They sat there looking at the map for a few, quiet moments.

Lois turned to look at Clark.  "You're good at this."

"At what?"

"Investigating.  Asking questions.  Thinking logically about
things before you just jump in.  I, on the other hand, just jump
in."

"Ah.  Back to those dangerous tendencies of yours again."  Clark
smiled at her.  "It's a wonder you're still alive."

"Oh, believe me, I've had my share of close shaves.  Some a
little too close.  Perry keeps telling me to take it easy, but
every time I pull in another exclusive, I know he's excited."

"Still, couldn't hurt to take it easy now and then."  He put his
hand over hers.  "I'd hate to read the Daily Planet one morning,
expecting to see a story of yours, only to read your obituary."
He gave her hand a little squeeze.  "It would be unbearable to
know I'd lost a good friend like that."

Lois nearly melted at his touch.  If he had asked her to start
reporting only on dog shows and club activities at that point she
might have agreed.  To think that he thought of her as a friend!  She
knew that he didn't have many friends, even though he was one of
the friendliest people she had ever met.  For some reason, Clark
Kent had distanced himself from people.  She, too, felt like
calling him a friend, which was a lot since she herself didn't
exactly have a lot of friends either.

"Thanks, Clark.  I think of you as a good friend, too."

"Now, I guess it's my turn."  Clark leaned back in the couch to
get comfortable.  "What would you like to know?"

Lois let herself relax against the opposite arm of the couch.  "I
don't know, why don't you tell me about the first trip you took?"

"To Borneo?  Okay.  It was actually there that I wrote my first
story, for the Borneo Gazette...."

***

(Sunday, December 24, 1995, 8:43 a.m. CST)

Lois yawned and stretched her whole body, from head to toe.  Oh,
that felt good!  She hadn't felt so good in a long time.  She
opened her eyes and blinked a few times.  Clark had told stories
of his travels well into the night and the next morning.  They
hadn't gone to bed until around 2:30 a.m. and even then, Lois
couldn't stop her mind from thinking about all the things he had
told her.

She had been right.  Hearing his voice had made all the
difference in the world.  He had really seemed to relax as he
got into telling her about his time abroad.  It was almost
magical how he seemed to make things come alive for her.  She
was going to have to mention to him something about making some
book tapes.  With a face like that and those soft, sensual
tones, he could make a fortune!  Lois made her way into the
attached bathroom and got ready for the day.

She went downstairs after getting ready.  Once again, she found
Clark in the kitchen, his head in the pantry.  She laughed out
loud.

Hearing her laugh, Clark turned to smile at her.  "Good
morning!  Sleep well?  Sorry I kept you up so late."

"Good morning, Clark."  Lois couldn't help it, she felt like she
was bubbling inside with good feelings.

"My, you're in a good mood.  What's so funny?"

"It seems that every time I'm looking for you, I find you in the
kitchen, looking in the pantry or the refrigerator, about to cook
me a meal."

Clark laughed.  "No cooking this morning, sorry."

"Awwww."  Lois pouted just a little.

"Don't give me that look.  I've got some bagels and cream cheese.
Want one?"

Lois sighed heavily.  "If I can't have any of your wonderful
cooking, I guess the bagels will have to do."  She filled her
glass with orange juice.  "Aren't you going to eat?"

"Sorry, I've already eaten.  I had to get out earlier to, um,
check the animals."  He went to the kitchen sink and rinsed off
some dishes and put them on a drying rack.

"Oh.  Guess I slept too late."  She was a bit disappointed he
hadn't waited for her.  Then again, she couldn't expect him to
hang around her like a puppy.

"Sorry about that.  I get carried away sometimes when I talk
about things."

"It's all right.  I loved hearing about it.  You should do some
book tapes.  You have the voice for it."

Clark seemed to think about it for a moment.  "I dunno--"

Here we go again, thought Lois.  Anything that might imply a more
public image, and he gets all wishy-washy.  Time to push just a
little bit more.

"I noticed you don't have a book on America yet.  Did you do much
traveling here in the States?"

"Yes.  After my Dad got sick, I tried to stick closer to home."
Clark sat down at the table to join her.  "I'm working on a book
about America right now, as a matter of fact."

"Great!  You know, you could do a book tour with it.  Stop in
several of the places you talk about in the book.  It would be
good PR."

Clark had started shaking his head at the words "book tour."
"You sound like my publisher and editor.  No, no book tours.  I
don't care if the book sells."

"Oh.  Yeah, right," Lois said sarcastically.  "Just last night
you told me you wondered if people really liked your books.
Here's your chance to find out."

He was silent as he looked at her.  "You're amazing."

Lois looked questioningly at him.  "What?"

"I said you're amazing.  And you're so right.  I do wonder if
people like my stories.  It's just--I'm not comfortable around a
lot of people."  He shifted in his chair.  "I can't believe
you've got me considering this."

"All right!"

"Don't push it.  I'm thinking about it."

"You could stop in Metropolis."  < And stop by to see me while
you're there. > Lois thought.

"Nope, can't."

Lois dropped her fork.  "Why not!"

"You said to stop at sites I'd have in the book," Clark shrugged.
"I've never been to Metropolis."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope.  Never."

"Why--"

"Why didn't I?  I don't know.  It just seemed so--big.  So
busy.  Just never made it there."

Lois put her hand to her forehead.  "This is unbelievable.
You've been to every major city on every major continent.  You've
even been to some of the most backwater parts of the smallest
countries.  And yet, as well traveled as you are, you've *never*
been to the biggest city in America, no, in the world?!"

Clark held out his hands in front of himself.  "So sue me, I'm
sorry," he laughed.  "I never had a reason to go before."

"And now?"

Clark looked at her, his eyes scanning her up and down.  "Now--
now I have a reason to."

"Good."  Lois popped the last bite of bagel into her mouth.  Round
one - Lois.  "So, what's the plan for today?"

"Well, I need to go out and restock some feeders, check on the
fence, and make sure the snow didn't drift up enough for the
cattle to walk over...."

Lois laughed.  "In other words, farm stuff."

"Farm stuff.  It's going to be cold, hard, monotonous work.  Just
the kind of thing I live for."

"And the kind I don't, sorry."

Clark laughed this time.  "I thought you might be enthusiastic
about it.  I figured you'd want to spend some time online, do
some research, talk to relatives, whatever.  I plan on being
back around one o'clock or so."  He got up to take care of the
dirty dishes.

"All right.  I'd offer to fix you lunch, but I'm not sure if
oatmeal would cut it or not."

"Oatmeal!?"

Lois looked down sheepishly.  "It's about the only thing I know
how to cook.  I'm pretty much a disaster in the kitchen."

Clark grabbed his coat and put it on.  "Maybe I can teach you how
to make something quick and easy at lunch time."

"Oh, no, you don't want to do that."

"Sure!  I'd be a terrible friend if I let you go back to the
concrete jungle without any survival skills."

There that word was again: friend.  As Lois watched Clark's
retreating form from the kitchen window, she decided she liked
the sound of that word.  Friend.

***

True to his word, as if Lois expected anything else, Clark
showed up a little before one o'clock.  She heard him come in
the back door, and went to meet him in the kitchen.  The urge to
tuck that little lock of hair that hung down over his forehead
surfaced again.  "So!  Get everything done?"

"Yep.  Now I can devote the rest of Christmas Eve to you."

Lois felt a tiny shiver run up and down her spine as he looked at
her with that warm smile on his face.

"That's right, I almost forgot.  It is Christmas Eve, isn't it."

Clark noted a tint of sadness in her voice.  "Missing your family
and friends?"

"Not really.  My family can be a bit--demanding.  Everyone tries
to get along at first, but in the end we all just end up yelling
at each other."

Clark was a bit shocked.  "You're kidding?"  Christmas used to be
such a wonderful time for him.  Before his parents died, that is.
Now, he kept things pretty simple.

Lois waved a hand around the room and pointed toward the front
room.  "I've noticed you haven't decorated much for the season.
Were you going somewhere?"  Lois got a worried look on her face.
"Oh my gosh!  You were probably going to see family of your own,
and now I've managed to screw up your plans as well."

"No, I wasn't going anyplace.  I don't really have anyone to go
to.  Sometimes I spend Christmas with one of the neighbors; the
Irig's usually.  They're old family friends."

"Oh, all right.  Then why didn't you decorate?"

Clark looked around sort of bleakly.  "I just never felt like it
anymore.  Not since..." his voice trailed off.

"Not since your parents...."

"Right.  Anyway, we should be getting on with lunch."  Clark
opened up the pantry and pulled out a jar of something.  "Ready
for that cooking lesson?"

"Sure!"  Lois went to stand next to him so she could see what was
in the jar.

"This is your basic marinara sauce.  This one happens to be
homemade, but some of the store bought brands can taste pretty
good.  You can try several brands to see which ones you like
best."

"Pre-packaged is good.  I can handle that."

Clark smiled at her.  "I thought so.  No matter what you decide
to make, you have to heat it up."  He pulled out a saucepan and
poured the contents into it.  Then he sat it on the stove and
lit the burner under it.  "Just like boiling water," he turned
to look at her, and his eyes danced with ill-hidden humor, "or
heating oatmeal."

Lois laughed.  "Thanks for building on my skill set!"

"You're welcome.  Now, you have several choices.  You can heat up
some noodles and have the sauce over those.  You could heat up
some meatballs and put them with some sauce on some french bread
for a sandwich.  You could put some over a chicken breast, and
heat that in the oven until the chicken was done.  You could--"

"Wait, wait, wait.  I can't cook meatballs, or french bread, or
any of that stuff."

"You don't have to.  You can buy most of it at larger
supermarkets, already made.  You just have to heat it up."

"Just heat it up."

"Sure.  Then, after you become a little more confidant, you
could try *making* the meatballs."

"Right," Lois said sarcastically.  "I'll stick to heating things
up for now.  So, which are you fixing today?"

Clark pulled out a package of noodles.  "Just something simple.
I don't know about you, but I don't want to wait too long for
anything."

"Sounds great to me.  How do you cook the noodles?"

"Just heat--" Clark started.

"--them up," finished Lois.  "I think I see a trend here."

"Just following the KISS principle."

"The what?"

Clark had pulled out another pan and was filling it with water.
He dumped the noodles into the water and put it on the stove to
heat as well.  "The KISS principle.  'Keep It Simple Silly.'
Haven't you ever heard of that?"

Lois rolled her eyes.  "I rarely seem able to keep anything
simple."

Clark shook his head as he chuckled lightly.  "Somehow, that
doesn't surprise me."  He handed Lois some plates and silverware
and then turned to stir the contents in the pots.

Lois took the dinnerware and set the table, then she sat down
with a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Clark asked, concerned.

"Oh, nothing.  I was just thinking about it nearly being
Christmas.  It doesn't seem like Christmas."

Clark looked around the house.  It was true.  His house didn't
look any different than it normally did.  Suddenly, he missed the
decorations and lights as well.  Maybe he could do something
about that.

"I read some more of your books.  And I also found that scrapbook
of your newspaper articles.  Not bad reporting."

Clark sat down at the table with her.  "For a greenhorn."

"Oh, don't say that."  Lois sat up a bit straighter as an idea
dawned on her.  "Say, you could do some freelance work for papers
like the Planet.  You could write a travel column, and have it
picked up by papers all over the U.S."

"I dunno...."

Lois let her hand smack the table out of frustration.  "Oh,
boy.  Here we go again.  'I'm not comfortable with that much
exposure.'"  She nailed Clark with a hard look.  "Get over it,
Clark.  Do the words 'Move on in life' mean anything to you?"
She reached out and grabbed his shoulder and shook him.  "Be
adventurous!"  Lois laughed to take out some of the sting she
heard in her own voice.  "You've got great writing talent.  If
you want to get more into journalism, this would be the perfect
way.  You can work on your farm, and write on the side.  Just
like with your books."

"It makes sense," Clark agreed.  "I'm just not used to...to all
this.  I guess I've holed up here after my parents died and I've
lost some of my confidence about getting back out into the world.
Away from here.  I guess I'm afraid of what I'll lose if I...let
go."

Lois watched him for a moment.  He had so much feeling and
passion in him.  "I don't think you would lose anything.  I think
you have everything to gain."

The pot of noodles boiled over and started spewing and sputtering
loudly.  Clark jumped up and quickly pulled it off the burner.
"Ooops!"

Lois jumped up.  "Now *that's* how I cook!"

***

After lunch, Lois asked Clark to come into the den with her.  She
walked over to her 'Angel' research and picked up a piece of
paper.  "I have a question for you, Clark.  What do you make of
this?"  She handed the piece of paper to him.

Clark scanned it, and his eyes grew just a bit wider.  "It's--"
His voice cracked and he had to clear his throat.  "It's a report
of a near airline crash; in Denver."

"Right."  Lois smiled at him smugly.

Clark tried to act casual.  "So?"

"So?  Don't you see?"  She snatched the piece of paper from him.
"It's another 'Angel' sighting!"  She looked at him like he
should slap his forehead and say 'Doh!'.

"Lo-is--"

"It is, I know it."  She read from the piece of paper.  "At 0647
hours, the RockyAir flight 047 took off from Denver
International Airport.  Approximately three minutes into its
flight, the pilot reported engine failure and requested
permission to turn around and make an emergency landing.  Radar
shows that flight 047 was losing altitude at a great rate and
would not be able to make it back to the runway in time.
Suddenly, the crew reported that partial power had been restored
and radar confirmed the flight path of the aircraft had been
altered.  After safely landing the aircraft and all passengers
were accounted for, post-flight inspection revealed that both of the
737-400's two engines were inoperative.  It is unclear at this
time how the aircraft managed to land safely.  Yadda yadda
yadda."

Clark didn't say anything.  What *could* he say?  < Yeah, well, I
heard about the plane, so I thought I might keep those people's
families from having the worst Christmas of their lives.  I just
took a quick hop over there and brought it down safely. >  It was
best not to say anything, then he wouldn't have to worry about
lying.

Lois was still looking at him.  "Both engines were dead, and yet
it managed to land safely.  It was the 'Angel.'  He was operating
in this area again this morning."

Clark turned away from her, before she could see the panic in his
eyes.  He walked over to the map she had made and pretended to
study it.  He noticed Lois had already marked his latest exploit
on the map.  <Sigh.>  Would he ever learn?  "Did anyone see
anything?"  <Please.  I hope not.>

"Nothing officially," Lois walked up next to him.  "Unofficially,
I've heard from some of my sources that the tech crews found some
strange markings on the underneath side of the hull that look a
lot like hand impressions."

Clark dropped the map he was holding as his hands began to shake.
He remembered now, how it had felt like his hands had sunk into
the plane a bit before he was able to slow its rapid decent.
Another mistake.  "Really?" his traitorous voice cracked again.
"Could they get anything from them?"

"Like what?"  Lois was looking at him strangely.

"Like fingerprints.  Were the impressions distinct or general?
How do they know they were hand imprints at all?"

Lois' eyes narrowed, and she shook a finger at him.  "See?
You're good at this.  You should try doing this more often.  I
didn't think to ask about the fingerprints."  She whirled around
and grabbed her notebook and began scribbling things in it.  "Can
I borrow your phone again?  I want to get on this right away."

"Sure.  I'm going to go look for some stuff I thought of
earlier."

"Okay," Lois said absently, already putting the phone to her ear,
her right hand rapidly dialing the number while the left fished
out her calling card.

Clark was thankful she was too preoccupied to notice the relief
on his face as he made his escape.

***

What was it about her that made him so conflicted?  She was
smart, good looking, adventurous, caring--and terrifying.  His
mind kept screaming at him to stay away from her, but his heart
was begging for more.  Everywhere he looked, he saw her, smelled
her, and heard her.  Her ideas for him about his writing scared
him and compelled him at the same time.  Everything was a mixture
of contrasts.  He never felt more alive in his life, or more
afraid.

He had escaped the house as quickly as he could.  Grabbing a
coat, Clark had fled to the barn so he could pace without having
to worry about Lois seeing him walking on the walls and
ceiling.  Besides, he didn't want to have to paint the ceiling
again to hide his dirty boot marks like last time.

He had needed time to think and to calm down.  After a while,
Clark decided he needed to get busy looking for what he had
thought of earlier.  Clark used his special vision to look
through the attic of the house for his quarry, but couldn't find
it there.  He knew he had seen it somewhere, but just exactly
where was escaping him at the moment.

He turned his vision on the cellar, and looked through there.
Ah!  There was part of what he was looking for.  He remembered
putting them there several years ago.  They wouldn't be much good
without the rest of it, though.

He let go, and floated a few feet above the floor.  It always
made him feel better for some reason.  He casually floated up to
the hayloft and settled back down.  The afternoon sun was
bright, and it came filtering in from various places in the old
barn's roof.  It was warm and dry up here now, however.  And
quiet.  Clark noticed a large hump in the hay at the back of the
barn.  He gave it a quick look with his vision.  Bingo!  He'd
found what he was looking for.

***

"Thanks, Jimmy.  I owe you one for calling you out on a Sunday.
I'll get back to you later to see what you've come up with.
Bye."  Lois hung up the phone and then realized she was alone.
Briefly, she wondered if she would again find Clark in the
kitchen, cooking something.  As she turned to walk out of the
den, she could hear Clark banging around in the living room.

"What in the world is that?"  Lois walked up to Clark, who had
just put a large box on the floor in the middle of the room.

"It's a Christmas tree."  He smiled sheepishly.  "I thought maybe
we might try to make it seem a little more like the season in
here."

Grinning beyond control, Lois simply nodded.  She bent over and
opened the box.  "An artificial tree?  I'm kind of surprised.
You seem more the traditionalist: real tree and all."

Clark moved a couple of the chairs in the living room out of the
way so they would have a spot to put the tree.  "Well, I am.  But
when I was a kid, my Mom convinced my Dad and me that we didn't
need to kill a tree just for one season of the year.  We planted
that big Blue Spruce in the front yard that year and decorated
it.  We bought an artificial tree for inside."

Lois looked out the window at the large, full tree filling the
front windows.  It stood majestically in the Kansas wind.
"That's really wonderful, Clark.  I bet it was a real j