__________ Fear of Discovery IV: Lois and Clark and Clark and Lois By Yvonne Connell Rated: PG Submitted: December 2001 __________ Acknowledgements: I'd like to thank my wonderful beta-reader, Wendy Richards, for her unstinting enthusiasm, commitment and inspiration. On a regular basis, she got saddled with new sections of this monster to beta-read in less time than it takes me to write a paragraph, yet she never once complained. Quite the opposite, in fact! I'd also like to thank Jenni Debbage, Chris Carr and Meredith Knight for helping me cook up the solution to Lois and Clark's problem near the end of the story, and finally, a big thank you to all those FoLCs on IRC and on the boards who gave me feedback and general encouragement while I was writing the story. Oh, and a special thanks to Ann McBride for GEing this in record time! Fear of Discovery IV: Lois and Clark and Clark and Lois ******************************************************* Space and time shifted uneasily. Something unnatural was happening, something which disturbed the natural rhythm of the cosmos. Another visitor was making his way through the vortex between universes, and the fundamentals which held matter and life together took unkindly to the bending and twisting to which they were being subjected. But the visitor had stayed in a foreign universe for too long, and even though he knew he had helped a good man rediscover his true identity, he was weary and desperate to return home. He needed succour; he needed his wife. ******** Our Metropolis Clark's stomach lurched as he landed back in his own living room, reflecting that inter-universe travel really was no fun at all. He'd have thought that by now he would have become accustomed to the disorientation and slight dizziness which accompanied his arrival in a new universe, but it seemed that, like commercial flying, this was one form of travel he would never get used to. However, once he'd recovered his equilibrium, he was greeted by the very pleasant sight of his wife lounging on the sofa with her eyes closed, a bunch of open Chinese take-out cartons strewn on the table in front of her. Already he felt better. "Drop any noodles this time?" he asked casually. Lois' eyes flew open. "Clark!" She stood up and he rushed to envelop her in a tight hug. It was so, so good to feel her soft body close to his again, to smell her perfume, to touch her hair, and feel her arms around him holding him close. He felt like never wanted to let her go again, and he especially never wanted to leave her like he had this time, not knowing if he would ever get her back again. H G Wells had dumped him in the alternative universe without telling him when or how he would return again, and whilst most of the time he had been too busy to dwell on it, the uncertainty had always been at the back of his mind. But now he was home, and the tension he hadn't even been aware of melted away from him in her loving arms. He felt complete once more. "Mmmm...I missed you so much," he said into her hair. "I missed you too, honey, but you were only gone for a couple of hours. What happened?" He released her in surprise. "Two hours? I was gone for days and days! It seemed like forever." "Really?" She frowned. "I guess maybe time doesn't move at the same rate between the universes, or something. And come to think of it, when I came back that first time when Tempus kidnapped me, no time had passed for you at all, had it?" He nodded. "Almost none, although I still remember that horrible moment when there was a big Lois-shaped hole in the universe," he said, his voice letting more of his feelings show than he had intended. "Oh, Clark." She gathered him up in her arms again. "So, was it bad? How's Clark2?" "He's OK...pretty much. It took us a while to work things out, but he'll do just fine now." It was a gross understatement of the extreme highs and lows he had gone through with Clark2, but it would do for now. Later, he would tell her about Clark2's struggle to recover from the violent murder of Mayson, his girlfriend, and the difficulty Clark had had in trying to persuade him to resume his Superman work once more. "And how are you?" "I'm fine too. I just missed you." He held her tight, enveloping her with his body, wanting to feel every soft curve, every beat of her heart, and hear her quiet, steady breaths beside him. "It's OK, you're home now," she murmured in his ear. "We've got all the time in the world to be together." "I know." No doubt she was confused by his clingy behaviour, if she had only been alone for a couple of hours, but he couldn't help himself. He had missed her so much... Eventually, he released her gently, but still couldn't quite let go, entwining his fingers with hers. It was then that she noticed his bag. "What's that?" she asked. Clark looked down at the bag in his right hand. "Oh! I nearly forgot." He held them up for her. "These are for you." Lois peered through the clear plastic bag to the misshapen lumps of pastry and screwed up her face. "They are?" she asked in a sceptical voice. He smiled; yes, this was his Lois, all right. He'd missed her direct, no-nonsense style. "Yes, but they taste much better than they look, trust me. They're from Clark2." Lois nodded slowly. "He obviously doesn't take after you in the cooking department." "Lois! They really are good - you'll love them. And he didn't bake them - he buys them from somewhere in Scotland." He offered the bag to her, which she took, holding it up at eye level for closer examination "These from a nation where men wear skirts?" she said, looking at the contents with distaste. "Figures." She shrugged. "I guess it was a nice gesture, though." Clark walked her over to the sofa, where he pulled her into his lap, still wanting to keep her close. Lois dumped the bag of butteries on the coffee table and turned to him, meeting his lips in a long, deep kiss. "Mmmm...this is nice," she murmured. "Yeah..." Kissing Lois was always nice - in fact, way, way better than nice. He'd missed this; their closeness, the way they didn't have to say anything to understand each other perfectly, the way she seemed to fill him with extra energy and strength. He could be strong without her, of course - he'd had to be when he was on his own with Clark2, but everything was so much easier with Lois at his side. He smiled around their kiss; the world seemed a much softer, warmer place when he was kissing Lois... *** "I nearly kissed her... it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do." *** It was a sudden, unwelcome flashback to his recent conversation with Clark2. Clark2 had thought he'd been doing Clark a favour with his confession, but Clark wasn't so sure. Instead of losing himself in a sensuous kiss with Lois, he was now wondering what might have happened if Clark2's 'I nearly kissed her' had turned into something closer; something more sensuous. Would Clark2 also have been thinking how much better than nice it was to kiss Lois? And just how close had they been when they 'almost kissed' - as close as he was to Lois right now? "You going to tell me what happened?" Lois impinged on his wayward thoughts, and he realised he'd been drifting on auto-pilot, kissing and caressing without meaning. He pushed the memories away; he didn't want them spoiling this precious reunion with Lois. He smiled at her. "Soon...but let's just do this for a while." "Suits me..." Where were they when it happened? Was he sitting in the very spot now, on this sofa, where his double had almost over-stepped the line? He made himself concentrate on his wife; on her sensuous mouth and her baby-soft skin, and her familiar, welcoming scent. This was what gave him the strongest sense of being home at last - to caress and be caressed by Lois, his precious love. He'd missed her so much, through all those lonely days and nights in the other universe, and although he'd dreamed about her in his cold, empty bed, his dreams had been a pale imitation of the real thing. He'd missed her body... He'd tried fantasy a couple of times, when the longing had become too much to bear, but it just hadn't been the same without her. At last, she was here in his arms. He undid the top couple of buttons on her blouse and slipped a hand inside. They could talk about Clark2 later - now, all he wanted there to be was just him and Lois and some gentle loving. "Mmm..." murmured Lois around their kiss. Her soft flesh under his fingers was like food to a starving man. He'd missed this so much... *** "I told you once that I don't love her, but sometimes I think that maybe I do" *** But the memory triggered a sudden aggressive urge to reclaim her as his own, to reaffirm his rights as her husband, to surge until his seed was planted and he had restaked his sole claim on her body. It was an unfamiliar, alien impulse; he didn't make love with Lois because it was his right, their love was a sharing kind of love. He pushed the ugly thought to one side. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, his gaze roaming over her soft, smooth curves, her graceful shoulders and her slim, creamy-white neck. *** "I just can't think straight around Lois." *** Clark2 had been defending himself, trying to explain why he had nearly kissed her. Well, it was no excuse, and neither was that remark about having been drinking wine - Clark2 was no more affected by alcohol than he was himself... "Mmmm." He planted kisses around her neck and shoulder, feeling her do the same in return on his other shoulder. When that wasn't enough, he moved around to the nape of her neck, and then slowly down to the swell of her breast. *** "You must have known that I had feelings for Lois." *** Another surge of possessive desire ran through him, and this time blind need clouded his mind, and he couldn't resist any longer. He lunged hungrily at her with his mouth and hands, and soon hot desire and impatience had washed away all coherent thought, and he was taking her just as his status as her husband dictated he could. She was his wife...*his* Lois... A few seconds of pure bliss flashed by, and then a deep sense of satisfaction flooded over him. He was home at last, in the arms of the woman he loved, and she had just given him one of the greatest gifts a woman could give a man. No-one could take that away from him. He bent down to kiss her again, but felt her face turn away from him. Opening his eyes, he was shocked to find her distressed and upset instead of as blissfully sated as he felt himself. ******** Her relief at getting him back so quickly, after only a two hour wait, had turned quickly into compassion when she had learnt that the time elapsed for him in the alternative universe had been much longer than she had been expecting. It was confusing to have a husband clinging on to her as if they'd been separated for weeks instead of hours, but his emotion had transmitted itself to her so strongly that her confusion immediately became irrelevant. He needed reassurance, not questions and curiosity. So it wasn't surprising that he was more interested in cuddling up to her than in telling her the details of his visit, especially since they had always enjoyed a very close physical relationship. Even from the early days of their friendship, they had been very tactile, and when friendship had turned into love, they had constantly kept in contact with each other through casual caresses or other brief touches. So she had been happy to indulge him, and had enjoyed every second of his seduction, reflecting jokily that perhaps he should go away more often if this was the result. But then something had happened. He had switched suddenly from slow seduction to hungry lust, attacking her urgently and wildly with mouth and tongue and finger, quite unlike the gentle lover she was accustomed to. That had been okay, though; his passion had been infectious and she had been starting to get pretty aroused herself. Even when he had tipped her onto the sofa and roughly laid her bare for him, that had been okay. She had complied eagerly, expecting him to be his usual thoughtful and generous self; always mindful of her needs as well as his own. Instead he had virtually forced himself on her. She had tried to tell him, but he had smothered her protest with his mouth, and for the first time ever, she had experienced discomfort. Even her gasp of shock hadn't stopped him. When she had looked up at him, she had found his eyes shut and a hard, determined expression on his face, which she had hated, because it wasn't her loving Clark she saw, but a man intent on achieving his own satisfaction at any cost. Almost as if he wanted to stake some sort of macho claim on her body. She had nearly protested, but something had held her back - maybe his obvious need for her, maybe the thought that it obviously wasn't going to take long, or that it would be better to let him finish and then talk. And she had been right: determination quickly gave way to contorted ecstasy and a brief grunt. It hadn't been so bad that it had hurt, exactly, but she had felt invaded, not loved. She understood how desperately he needed her, she really did; she was even flattered, in a way. But Clark had never, ever been aggressive and selfish in his lovemaking before, and *that* hurt. *********** "Lois?" She didn't answer, her head still turned away from him. "What's wrong, honey?" "Nothing," she replied dully. "Please, Lois. What did I do?" There was a long pause. "I don't know what's worse - the fact that you have to ask, or the fact that you did what you did in the first place." That stung. He fell silent, replaying the last few minutes in his head. Not that it was terribly clear...he reached a possible explanation, and tried to make amends with gentle caresses. Her face swung around and she opened her eyes. "Don't bother," she said flatly. He froze. What was he doing wrong? "You don't get it, do you, Clark?" He shook his head dumbly. She turned her face away from him again. "You hurt me." Cold shock shot through him. He had hurt her? *Hurt her?* Oh, God... He replayed their love-making again, and this time it hit him squarely between the eyes. He had been so selfishly intent on his own pleasure that he hadn't given her needs a single thought. Guilt turned like a knife in his heart. Who, except the most selfish, aggressive person in the world, could do what he had just done to Lois? He reached out with a trembling hand to tentatively stroke her hair. "Lois...I don't know what to say." "Sorry would be a good start." "I'm more than sorry, I'm...appalled. That I could do something like that...I'm so sorry, Lois. So sorry. Are you all right? I mean, can I do anything...?" "No. I'm fine," she answered bluntly. They fell into a stony silence. He tried desperately to think of some way of making amends, some way to repair the damage he'd done, but guilt overwhelmed all other thought. Eventually, Lois shifted out from under him and sat up in a far corner of the sofa. He followed suit, straightening up at the other end. "Do you want me to leave you alone for a while?" he asked. He wasn't sure why he suggested that, except that she seemed to be keeping a lot of distance between them. "No, Clark. What I want you to do is explain why." "I'm not sure." He had an inkling, but he wasn't very proud of it, and she certainly wouldn't enjoy hearing it. "Look at me, Clark." He turned his head slowly to face her at the other end of the sofa. Instead of enjoying the sight of her beautiful body, all he could see were her dull, sad eyes. They tore at his heart. "Yes, you are. I can see it in your eyes." She looked away. "Clark, that wasn't you I just made love with, that was some other person I've never met before, and I need to know where all that came from. I also need to know if it's going to happen again." "Lois, I never meant to treat you like that. You have to believe me." "You'll forgive me if I say that's cold comfort right now. I'm taking it for granted that you didn't mean to do what you did, otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation at all." She paused, and then continued, "Just tell me why - and don't tell me you don't know, because I know you better than that." Clark took a deep breath. She was right; this needed to be faced head-on and there wasn't any point in denying the truth. Ever since he'd returned, Clark2's confession had been hanging over him like a black cloud. "I was jealous, I think." "Jealous," she repeated emotionlessly. "Yes. Clark2 and I...well, we talked about a lot of things..." his voice trailed away, uncertain on how best to broach the subject. He had so many questions running through his mind, starting with why she didn't tell him what had happened between her and Clark2. But asking her would be tantamount to accusing her of infidelity, albeit in a very minor way, and how could he do that when he'd just done the most unforgivable thing possible to her? "And?" "And...we talked about the times he's been over here...Lois, you don't want to hear this now-" "Yes, I do. Carry on." "We talked about that time when I was trapped in the time vortex, and you were trying to get me back. Lois, I understand how it could have happened, I want you to know that. You were lonely, and there was someone who looked exactly like me..." "Sorry?" she asked in a dangerous voice. Clark swallowed and looked away from her. "Look at me, Clark!" she insisted fiercely. His eyes shot up to hers and he ground out, "OK. He told me about the kiss." "Almost kiss," she corrected. She was staring at him in amazement. "Clark, is this what this is all about? One lousy 'almost kiss'?" "Yes. And the fact that you never told me about it." "Oh. I see. You think I'm hiding something from you. That's nice, that's very nice. All this time, I thought we'd built up an understanding, a strong trust in each other, and the moment you find out something you'd rather not hear about, you assume I'm being dishonest with you. Is that about it, Clark? Am I right?" "No! No, Lois, I trust you completely - I trust you with my life. Lois, I love you! Doesn't that mean anything?" "Apparently not." "Lois..." He was handling this all wrong. He was trying to explain himself, and in the process, was managing to upset her even more. After he'd hurt her so cruelly... But he didn't understand why she hadn't told him. "We share everything, you and I," he began. "Even the little things. So when Clark2 told me what happened, I was confused - why hadn't you even mentioned it? You told me about Leslie Luckaby, but not about this. So what did that mean - that nearly kissing someone who wasn't your husband didn't matter to you? And we're not just talking about a casual kiss here - he made it pretty clear that there was a whole lot more to it than that. So tell me, Lois - didn't it mean anything to you?" "No! That's exactly it! It didn't mean anything. We were both tired and lonely, and I almost kissed him. End of story. Period. New paragraph, get on with rest of life." Clark couldn't help picking up on it. "He said he almost kissed you, not the other way around." Lois whirled around to face him with an angry look. "He almost kissed me, I almost kissed him - what does it matter? Read my lips - it didn't mean anything. Got it?" "No!" he answered forcefully. "No, I haven't got it. Why didn't it mean anything?" "Because it just didn't. Life doesn't always come in nice, neat packages, Clark. Sometimes there are messy, unexplained loose ends trailing all over the place. You either accept that, or you don't - it's that simple. Sorry if I disappointed you by not being perfect, but that's the package you bought into when you married me: messy, irrational, and, right now, mad as hell!" Clark's rising ire deflated abruptly. He was doing it again: upsetting her when he had no right to. "I'm sorry, Lois," he replied quietly. "I never meant to upset you - I don't even know why I'm doing this." "Neither do I!" Silence descended again. ********* How dare he accuse her of being unfaithful! OK, so she hadn't told him, but so what? There had been more important things to say to him at the time, like 'thank God I've got you back in one piece, Clark'. Then afterwards, it had just slipped her mind, because it really wasn't important. It didn't mean anything. Of course, she'd felt awful back then, and it had scared her that at a time when she should have been longing to get her husband back, she had been distracted by another man just because he looked like Clark. It made her seem shallow and callous, and being confused by the similarity just hadn't seemed like a valid excuse, even though that was how she had explained it to Clark2 at the time. She had retreated upstairs to bed and lain awake thinking about it, wondering how she could have even half-contemplated kissing another man. Clark had come to her in her dreams then, and she had woken missing him terribly; lonely and aching for him. She had rationalised her mistake with Clark2 as anxiety and tiredness, and that was that. She had erased the memory from her mind. Now Clark was dredging it all back up again, and she resented it. She resented it like hell. She glanced over at him; he was sitting slumped in a mess of cushions and discarded clothes, looking as miserable as she no doubt looked herself. She spotted her blouse half- trapped under his left thigh and tugged it out to slip back on. He might be happy sitting there naked and...well, of course, he was as cool as a cucumber, damn him, but anyway, she was beginning to feel faintly ridiculous. She began fastening the buttons slowly. "Lois, are you sure you're all right?" She sighed. "Yes, Clark." She looked at his anxious face and relented. "You didn't really hurt me. It just wasn't very comfortable." "Oh." "What really hurt was seeing your face. Clark, I've never seen you look aggressive when we make love." A look of pain crossed his face, and she knew she'd touched a nerve. That wasn't going to stop her though; she wanted answers and he needed to give her those answers. "Why all the aggression, Clark? Were you trying to punish me?" "God no!" he exploded. "Never, Lois! I'd never, ever, do that. You know that, don't you?" "I thought I did." "Lois, please! You have to believe that much. No, it was...like I said, jealousy. I couldn't stop thinking about Clark2 and what he'd said to me, and I guess it made me mad, so I wanted to prove to...I don't know; myself maybe, that you were mine. Not his." Was that flattering? Or did she feel like his chattel? She didn't much like the thought of him having sex with her as a means of asserting his rights, but on the other hand, it was sort of nice that he felt that possessive towards her. Except possessiveness could be dangerous. "So do you still feel jealous? And is this going to happen the next time another man shows an interest in me?" "No. Lois, I'm not that insecure about our relationship. What we have is special, and some guy leering at you isn't going to affect that. But this was different - this was Clark2; me, in another universe. I know how I feel about you, so I knew how he probably felt about you too. So am I still jealous? I don't know. I like Clark2, I respect him and love him like a brother. If you really want to know, I just wish he hadn't told me about all this, and I really, really wish I hadn't just spent days and days in a strange world not knowing if I was ever coming back to you. Most of all, I wish I could erase the last hour and make it never happen again. But I can't do any of that. I might be Superman, but I can't turn back time." He sounded bitter and defeated, and her own guilt came back to her. "No, you can't, and neither can I." She drew in a deep breath. "OK, I think I need to admit that I did feel guilty. Actually, I felt terrible - I was supposed to be missing you, and yet there I was, getting attracted to another man. I hated myself for a while." "You did?" "Yes. I practically bolted upstairs away from him, and then spent the next I-don't-know how long trying to figure out what I'd been thinking." "And?" "And nothing. I have no idea why I did what I did, but Clark - it was a crazy situation we were in. How many people have to cope with losing their husband into a time vortex and then having his equivalent from another universe show up and start living in the house?" He smiled wryly. "Not many, I guess." "Exactly. So, really, it didn't mean as much as we're making of it." "Maybe not, but I'm still not sure how I feel about Clark2. I mean, I respect him a lot, but..." But there was something he hadn't said. She'd been replaying his words in her head while they'd been talking, and whenever he spoke about Clark2, there was one word he never used. "Do you trust him?" "Well, yes..." His puzzlement deepened. "Are you sure?" "Yes, I'd trust him with my life." "Do you think he could ever lie to you?" "No..." he trailed away uncertainly. "Do you think he follows the same code of ethics that you do?" "Well, mostly...it's not so easy for him - he didn't have an easy childhood, you know." "So...?" "So sometimes he doesn't make the same choices I would, is all. But basically he's a good guy." "But he might bend the truth now and then to suit his needs?" "I guess." "So do you trust him?" "I...yes, I trust him..." "Clark, forget he's almost your brother, forget he's you in another universe. Do you trust him?" Lois waited as Clark fought with his warring emotions. She knew what the answer was, but she wanted Clark to admit it to himself. "No," he answered finally. "No, I don't trust him. Not like I trust you." He lifted his gaze to her eyes. "I don't trust him, and that's why he makes me jealous, because I can't be completely sure of his ethics. I felt like that from the first time I heard a major emergency and asked him if he wanted me to do the rescue for him. He took so long to decide, I nearly didn't make it in time. I knew it wasn't fair of me, to judge him like that when he'd been through so much, but I just couldn't help thinking that if I'd been in his shoes, I wouldn't have doubted for one second that I wanted those people saved." "See, that's just it, Clark. You want him to be exactly like you and he's not. He's a different person, with a different set of experiences, and you have to accept that." "I know...I guess I was just disappointed. So when he finally got around to telling me he almost kissed you, I already didn't trust him and I started to wonder just what he was capable of." "You thought that if I'd let him go further, he just might have?" "Yes." "And then you started wondering if I might have been tempted to let him carry on?" He nodded unhappily. "So suddenly this tiny little innocent incident became the start of a steamy illicit love-affair?" "Well, not exactly..." "Not steamy, or not illicit?" "Neither, really." "A sordid little affair, then." "Not sordid..." "OK, just an affair, then." "Not even that, really." "All right, I'm not steamy, illicit, or sordid. Just what exactly am I? Raunchy?" An eyebrow flicked up. "Could be." "Passionate?" She started inching along the sofa towards him. "Often." "Perverted?" She moved nearer. "Not that I'm aware of." "Inventive?" And nearer. "Sometimes." "Only sometimes?" She placed her palm flat on his chest. "Always," he breathed. "Sexy?" Her hand began smoothing over his warm skin. "Very." "Good." She gave his chest a brief pat and straightened up abruptly. "Then let's get this mess cleared up and go to bed," she said, replacing her seductive tone with a pragmatic one. "I'm tired, and so are you." "Lois?" He was frowning at her warily. "It's OK, I think I've forgiven you, as long as you never do it again." "I hope I never do." "Come on, then - you tidy, and I'll lock up the house." ********* The Other Universe Clark flew over the dark countryside, looking for the landmarks which would tell him he was nearly there. Lois was silent in his arms, their conversation having withered soon after leaving the lights of Metropolis behind. He had told her he was stopping the madness, but that was all. He hadn't felt like saying any more. A familiar shape loomed out of the darkness, and he began to descend. In front of the farmhouse, he lowered Lois to the ground. "What are we doing here?" she asked, at last breaking the long silence between them. "Escaping." He saw her frown in the darkness and peer at the building before her. "Is this your parents' farmhouse?" "Yes. Come on." He reached down, clasped her hand in hers, and led her inside. To his regret, the house felt chilly and unwelcoming, and the stark central light he switched on did little to enhance its appearance. "It's not how I pictured it," she commented, hugging herself and looking around the cold living room. Clark glanced around quickly, noticing how it must look to a stranger. He and CK had cleaned it up a lot when they were last here together, but to Lois it had to look rather stark and spartan. "It'll be better once we've got a fire going," he said. She rubbed her arms vigorously against the cold. "But why are we here at all? What's wrong with your apartment - your *warm* apartment?" she added pointedly. He crossed to the fireplace and began building the fire. Everything he needed was still there from his last visit. "The place was swarming with reporters when we flew over it earlier," he said over his shoulder. "Here, at least, we get some peace and quiet." He switched into superspeed to finish the job, and soon had a small fire burning in the grate. Lois came over and held her hands out to warm them. He straightened up and slid an arm around her shoulders. "I just want us to have space, Lois. It was getting hard to breathe back in Metropolis," he told her softly. She was silent, watching the fire as it grew and blossomed into a healthy roar. He watched it with her, mesmerised by the dancing flames and crackle of burning wood. He felt curiously numb; the result of too many emotions crammed into too short a period of time, perhaps. "OK," she said eventually. "That sounds good." He turned to her and wrapped his arms tightly around her, glad when she hugged him closely in return. This had been one of the worst days in his life, and he knew she felt the same. Talk would come later, but for now all he wanted was to be held by her. A long time later, they separated and went about the prosaic task of making up a bed upstairs. They searched out towels and toilet things, and finally, after Clark had warmed up the bed with a burst of heat vision, they crawled under the covers and drifted off into sleep. ******** Our Metropolis Lois sat curled up on the sofa, watching TV footage of Clark doing his best to deal with an oil tanker spillage off the coast of Alaska. It wasn't an easy task even for a superhero to accomplish, because even though he'd sealed the breach in the oil tanks, there was still a lot of escaped oil floating on the surface of the sea. He was scooping it up with an old hulk of a ship he'd found and was pouring it back into the tanker, but it was slow work, and he was running out of time. Every minute longer he took, the nearer the oil slick drifted to the Alaskan shore. In the midst of her intent viewing, the doorbell rang. She unfolded herself reluctantly from the sofa and crossed to the door, keeping one eye on the TV screen. He was just going back to scoop up some more oil when she tore her eyes away and opened the door. "Oh, no," she said with a sinking heart. "What now?" The small, dapper man before her doffed his hat to her. "So sorry to disturb you, Lois. May I come in?" She sighed and stood aside to let him in. "Our home is yours," she answered sardonically. Shutting the door quickly, she hurried back to the TV, ignoring her guest. Clark was scooping again. She narrowed her eyes and tried to catch a glimpse of his face. He was probably concentrating too hard on the task at hand to show anything other than intelligent determination, but she still preferred to see his expression if possible. "What a dreadful mess," commented H G Wells, coming to stand beside her in front of the TV. "I hope Clark manages to clear it up." Her lip curled cynically. "You mean you don't know if he does?" "Lois," he said in his cultivated English accent, "I may be a time-traveller, but I haven't visited every single moment in time from here to eternity. Many things are still as much a mystery to me as they are to you." "Like why most of the good things in life aren't good for your health?" "Well, that, too, I suppose." The TV coverage was interrupted for a commercial break. Lois turned to Wells. "So are you going to tell my why you're here, or is this just a social call?" Wells smiled apologetically. "It's always nice to see you, Lois, of course." "I hear a 'but' coming," said Lois dryly. "I'm here to ask for your help - yours and Clark's, as a matter of fact." He glanced behind them at sofa. "May I sit down?" "Sure...sit, make yourself at home, why don't you?" answered Lois heavily, waving her arms expansively at the sofa. "Can I offer you a drink as well, perhaps?" Wells sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa. "Lois, I can understand why you're not especially pleased to see me, but I assure you that I wouldn't ask your help unless I thought it was very important." Lois rolled her eyes. "Yes, but what you think is important may not be what I or Clark think is important." He grimaced. "You have a point. However, will you allow me to make my case, and then you can decide for yourself?" She looked back at the TV. The commercials were just finishing and the news program was starting again. The announcer conducted a brief interview with an environmental expert about the potential impact if the oil slick reached the Alaskan shore. The expert also offered his opinion on Superman's efforts to clean up the slick, which he said were well-intentioned, but misguided. Lois bristled immediately. "How does he know? He's not there; Clark is." The expert said that the correct approach was to drench the area in detergent, to disperse the slick. Trying to skim the oil off the water would only result in a proliferation of smaller slicks which would be even harder to control. "Perhaps they should try both," commented Wells. "Exactly," agreed Lois. "Someone should be sending up vessels to spray the slick while Clark does his work. But no - instead, they just sit back and let him handle the whole thing, and then snipe from the sidelines. Sometimes I think the authorities use him as an excuse not to get involved. That way they can't be criticised for going about the clean-up operation the wrong way." The announcer wrapped up the interview and said they'd return to the situation at the end of the program. Lois picked up the remote control and pressed the mute button. "And when Clark finishes the job, all he'll get is a quick handshake and a thank you," she added acerbically. "Not that he'd ever want any more than that, but it makes it too easy for them." "Yes, I suppose it does," agreed Wells politely, running his fingers around the rim of his hat absently. She looked at him, and realised she hadn't answered his question. "So what is it that you want from him?" she asked pointedly. Wells looked uncomfortable. "Perhaps this was a bad idea. This doesn't seem like an appropriate time for me to barge in asking for favours." She shook her head impatiently, irritated by his apologetic manner. "Now that you're here you may as well tell me why. Is it to do with Clark2?" "Yes," replied Wells in a relieved voice, obviously glad to have been given an easy opening. "I think he needs your help." He then embarked on a longish tale, recounting what he knew of Clark2's life since Clark had left him. The very good news was that he had at last found his universe's Lois Lane, but the bad news was that until very recently, she had been suffering from amnesia following her accident in the Congo. Lois couldn't believe her ears when Wells told her the identity the other Lois had assumed. "Wanda Detroit?! You're kidding!" Lois wondered bemusedly if there were Lois Lanes in multiple universes, all going through a period of amnesia where they believed themselves to be a femme fatale from their own novel. It seemed, however, that Clark2's Lois Lane had had a different experience to her own. Wells didn't have very much detail, but was able to tell her that the amnesia appeared to have lasted a lot longer than her own, and with dire consequences. Somehow, she had ended up in that universe's Lex Luthor's clutches as a nightclub singer. The prospect of ending up as Lex Luthor's woman made Lois's skin crawl. She'd spent a long time dealing with the fact of her near-marriage to Luthor, so hearing of another version of herself who had lived that particular nightmare was unsettling. However, Wells assured her that Lois had escaped from Luthor and was now living with Clark2. "So what's the problem?" asked Lois. "Sounds like he's finally got what he wanted." The problem, Wells told her, was that he and Lois had recently appeared on a TV current affairs programme and accused Lex Luthor of trying to murder both of them. Lois was shocked, but not altogether surprised. In a world where everyone knew that Clark was Superman, it made sense that Luthor would attempt murder; after all, he had done the same in her own universe, and knowing Superman's identity would just make the job easier. She was surprised by their tactics, however. "Why go public - surely they weren't fishing for a confession? Luthor would never fall for that." "I'm afraid I don't know the reason why," replied Wells. "What I can tell you, however, is that shortly after the end of the TV show, I saw Clark fly Lois past his apartment, heading in the unmistakable direction of Smallville, Kansas." She frowned. "And...?" "I rather suspect Clark is...how shall I put this?" He paused. "Opting out, I think. Much as he did when his second girlfriend, Mayson, was murdered." "What makes you think that? Maybe he's just showing Lois where he grew up." "Would your Clark do that just after he'd made an accusation such as this on TV? Or would he stay to follow through the investigation?" "Stay, I guess. But is that it? That's your basis for thinking he's doing a runner again?" "I suppose I also have a strong feeling - you would call it a hunch, I believe - that I'm right. I don't think life has treated Clark too well since your husband left." Lois shook her head sadly. "Life never seems to treat him very well." The list of misfortunes just seemed to get longer and longer; his parents died when he was ten, leaving him to bounce around a series of foster homes. Later, his first girlfriend, Lana, left him when he went public with his alien identity and began work as Superman. His anonymity disappeared, he became a celebrity overnight, but then just when things were at last beginning to settle down, his second girlfriend was murdered in a car-bomb attack. His boss, Clark told her, had meanwhile been harassing him because he was an alien, and in the end, the strain of all that, plus his rescue work as Superman, had taken his toll and he had cracked. He had bolted to the farmhouse in Smallville, and Clark had later found him in the attic, hunched over his mother's old wedding gown, just a hair's breadth away from a complete breakdown. Remembering all this, Lois reflected that perhaps Wells was correct. Clark2 was not a stable person; not like her own Clark. He had deep-seated insecurities, and a strong tendency to bottle things up until they reached boiling point. She had managed to get him to open up to her a little when he'd visited this universe, and she knew Clark had done the same, but without their input, she suspected he would revert to well-trod methods of coping. He wasn't a quitter, but when faced with an emotional crisis and no outlet for it, his reaction would be to shut down; to pretend it wasn't happening. "So you want us to go over there and talk him out of it?" she asked. "I doubt he'll want us there telling him what to do." "You're probably right. But perhaps you can help him consider his options more carefully." She frowned; Wells seemed to have a completely blinkered approach to problem solving at times. "If he doesn't want to be Superman, there's no way I or Clark can persuade him otherwise. You may have to just accept that in that particular universe, there will be no Utopia." "Ah, but you see, that's just it - I've visited Utopia in that universe, so I know that he does choose the right path eventually." "How do you know that's not due to his descendants, and not him? Maybe one of his great-grandchildren decided to become a superhero and found the moral code you say Utopia is built on - or maybe it's someone not related to Clark2 at all." Wells shook his head. "I've seen his statue." She was about to answer him when she noticed the news coverage had returned to Clark. She picked up the remote and thumbed the mute button. "We've just heard that the slick has been cleared up and Superman is towing the stricken tanker to safety," said the announcer. There was a brief shot of Clark pulling the tanker to the nearest port. The news programme finished, and Lois put the TV on standby. "He'll be home soon," she remarked. She wasn't too sure how he'd react to Wells's invitation, and she wasn't looking forward to discussing the subject of Clark2 with him again. They'd pretty much patched things up between them since the day he'd come back, but it was still a sensitive topic. On a personal level, and leaving aside Wells' misguided infatuation with Superman and Utopia, she was very tempted by his offer to take them over for a visit. She was curious to meet this other Lois Lane, and it would be nice to see her and Clark2 together at last. He had been such a lonely soul when she had spoken to him last. Perhaps she and Clark2 could lay some old ghosts to rest at the same time. "Might I ask if I've managed to convince at least you, Lois, to come over and talk to Clark2?" asked Wells. "You can ask, but you won't get an answer," she said dryly. "This is something Clark and I need to discuss together." "Ah. Fair enough." Wells subsided into nervous silence, still perched on the edge of the sofa and fiddling with his hat. Lois found herself irritated again, especially when he started making little clicking noises. "Relax, can't you?" she said. "How about some tea? We've got normal, Earl Grey, Oolong, and some weird fruit stuff that Clark's Mom likes." "Earl Grey, I think. Thank you." She made a quick exit to the kitchen, grateful to be out of his presence for a while. Hopefully, Clark would be home soon to share the job of dealing with the hyperactive Wells. ********** The Other Universe Lois chopped a few more baby plum tomatoes in half, chucked them in the bowl with the others, and carried the tray through to the lounge. "Lunch is served," she announced. Clark looked up from the photo album he'd been flicking through and smiled. "See? I told you you could cook." She dumped the tray on the coffee table in front of him and joined him on the sofa. "If cooking means slicing a loaf and chopping a few tomatoes, then yes, I can cook." He popped half a tomato in his mouth. "Mmmm - I love these. They're so sweet." Lois began assembling an open sandwich from the ingredients on the tray, glancing at the photo album on his knees. "When do I get to see the embarrassing baby photos?" He flicked her a sideways look. "Would you believe me if I said there aren't any?" "Nope. Here - give." She yanked the book off his knees before he could stop her and turned back a few pages. A complete double page spread of baby pictures opened up: baby Clark with a shock of dark brown hair lying swathed in white blankets, baby Clark crying while being washed in the bathtub, baby Clark with a big stupid grin in a baby bouncer, and many more. As she had expected, he had been an incredibly cute baby. She put a hand on his back. "Want me to burp you when you've finished your lunch?" He laughed. "I think not." She looked back at the photos with a small sigh. They'd been carrying on this superficial banter since getting up this morning, and it was beginning to get her down. Oh, it had been very nice to wake up in a sunny bedroom, with only the sound of birdsong and Clark whistling tunelessly to himself downstairs. The peaceful surroundings had soon banished the ghosts of the previous evening, and she had got up with a surprisingly light heart. It had been even nicer to share the breakfast he'd flown in from various parts of the world, and the walk they had taken around the farm afterwards had been fun, with Clark showing her where he used to play as a kid. But they hadn't said a word about the TV show yesterday, or the fight with Lex afterwards. Clark seemed to be pretending it hadn't happened. She closed the photo book and put it aside. "Clark, can we talk?" He gave her a wide-eyed, open look. "Sure." "No, I mean *really* talk. About yesterday - about what we're going to do when we go back." His gaze slid away from her. "Do we have to?" he muttered. "Of course we have to! Clark, this was a really good idea of yours, getting us away from it all for a while. I really feel as though I've had a chance to unwind and put things in perspective." She paused, laying her hand on his shoulder. "But now we have to go back and sort out the mess. We have to follow through with our accusation and make it stick this time - we can't let Lex get away with it." "I know, but..." "But what?" He seemed about to answer, but then he pulled a face. "Can't we talk about this later?" "No. I want to talk about it now. What were you going to say?" He shrugged. "I just wonder..." "What?!" "What it would be like to leave all that behind." His gaze swung back to hers again briefly. "Permanently." "Perm..." She stared at him. "You're kidding, right? You don't mean what I think you mean." He waved a hand in the air vaguely. "Just think how nice it would be to start over. We wouldn't have to worry about the past any more, there'd just be you and me and the future. No Lex Luthor, no investigation, no murder trial, no-" "Responsibilities?" she interrupted. "Is that what you want? You just want to drift, is that it?" "Not exactly dr-" "I suppose you'd give up Superman too, right?" she interrupted again, her anger rising sharply. "Because he comes with a whole bunch of responsibilities, doesn't he?" He didn't answer her immediately. He picked up the photo album and turned to the last page. Looking down at one of the pictures, he said, "Yes. Yes, he does." She looked across at the album and saw to her surprise that he was staring down at a picture of a woman who could have been her twin. ******** Our Universe "Let me get this straight. You want us to just barge in on him and tell him to pull himself together, go back to Metropolis and start being Superman again?" Clark was standing in the middle of the living room, his Superman suit covered in oil and dirty water, laying into Wells with a show of temper Lois rarely saw him display. Wells seemed to shrink into his pin-stripe suit. "In a nutshell, yes. But I wouldn't put it quite like that. I rather thought you could have a quiet chat with him about Lex Luthor, and perhaps help him come up with a way of bringing the man to justice." "Hasn't it occurred to you that maybe he's not interested in that?" exclaimed Clark, thrusting a hand out towards Wells. "Maybe he just wants a quiet life with Lois." "I find it hard to believe that Clark Kent in any universe wouldn't want to bring a villain such as Lex Luthor to justice," said Wells. "Well, he's not the same as me." Clark retorted flatly. Wells blinked up at Clark, seemingly momentarily floored for words. Lois stood up with a sigh and put a hand on Clark's mucky shoulder. "I don't think you're being entirely fair there, Clark. The Clark2 I knew had a very well-developed sense of justice." "When it suits him." She frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" "Just that he has a different set of priorities - I told you that before." She remembered he had said something about a rescue that he thought Clark2 had taken too long to make up his mind about. Still, she thought Clark was being uncharacteristically uncharitable towards his friend. "Honey," she began after a pause, modifying her tone to a more conciliatory one. "Why don't you get cleaned up and get changed before we talk about this any more? That grimy suit can't be very comfortable." He eyed her balefully. "I'm tired and grumpy; that's what you're really saying," he observed. She reached up and kissed the end of his nose, one of the few parts of him which wasn't spattered with oil. "And you smell," she added with a smile. He lifted the back of his hand up and took a sniff. Wrinkling his nose, he said, "Okay. But don't let him talk you into anything while I'm gone." She rolled her eyes at him, and he disappeared upstairs in a blur of red and blue. "Oh, dear," fretted Wells from the sofa. "I really don't seem to have come at a good time." "Actually, there's never a good time to discuss universe- hopping, in my opinion," replied Lois dryly. She let the room fall into awkward silence until Clark came zooming back down the stairs again, clean and fresh, and dressed in jeans and his favourite black t-shirt. Under different circumstances, she reflected, she would have happily ravished him right there in the living room, he looked so delectable. A spot of ravishing would also have done wonders for his mood, whereas Wells' presence patently did not. Clark shoved his glasses up his nose and sat down opposite Wells. "Okay, I'm sorry if I was a bit short-tempered before," he said calmly. "Ladling thousands of gallons of crude oil doesn't bring out the best in me, apparently." "I can imagine," agreed Wells, fiddling with the rim of his hat again. Lois stretched out a hand. "How about I hang that up for you?" she suggested pleasantly, trying not to let her irritation show. "Ah - most kind," said Wells, letting her confiscate the hat from him. Clark gave her a grateful look; evidently the nervous fiddling had been annoying him, too. "I did some thinking under the shower," said Clark, "and I can understand why you want Clark2 back in Metropolis and working as Superman again-" "Oh, good - so you'll go?" interrupted Wells eagerly. "I said I understood, not that I agreed," said Clark sharply. "Who knows what causes a civilisation to change its moral code? Okay - so you saw a statue of Clark Kent in this Utopian future you visited, but I don't think that's enough proof on its own that Clark2 is the foundation of that future." "Exactly," interjected Lois, coming back from the coat stand to join Clark on his sofa. "So I don't think that's a good enough reason for us to go over there and start telling him what he should and shouldn't do with his life. What do you think, Lois?" "I think he and Lois need to lead the life they want to live, not what anyone else thinks they should live." She paused. "I do think he sounds like he's lost his way a bit, though. And I wonder what Lois thinks of it all." "True," agreed Clark, "but I also don't think it's right for me to go dashing over there every time he runs into trouble. He's got to figure things out on his own sometime - or with Lois, now that he's got her." "I rather think the Lois of that universe is somewhat less...stable than your good self, Lois," interjected Wells. "She has problems of her own to solve." "But that's life," objected Clark. "We didn't have anyone bailing us out whenever things got rough." "Yes, we did, Clark! What about your parents? Clark2 doesn't have anyone like that to talk to." "OK, fair point. But aren't we all jumping the gun here? We don't know for sure that he's done anything other than take Lois to Smallville for the night - in fact, we don't even know for sure if that's where they went. So I think we should just leave them alone and let them get on with it. I'm sure they'll do just fine now that they're together." He smiled at Lois. "Sure worked for me." "I see," said Wells, clearly disappointed. "And you, Lois? Do you feel the same?" Instead of answering him, Lois looked at Clark. "Would you excuse us for a few minutes, Mr Wells? Maybe you could help yourself to some more tea in the kitchen." "Tea? Ah...yes. Yes, that's a good idea. I'll just go and make some more tea. Tea would be nice." Wells stood up and crossed to the kitchen door. "You'll call me...yes, of course you will. I'll be in here when you're ready. Making tea." Lois waited until Wells had disappeared. "I swear he gets worse." "Maybe time travel does that to you," suggested Clark. "All the more reason why we shouldn't go with him." "Well..." "Well what?" "I've been thinking. Yes, we shouldn't go over there just to drag him back to Metropolis, but don't you think it would be nice to meet this other Lois? We both know how lonely he's been, and how hard he's tried to find his Lois, and now he's found her at last...well, I feel like Clark2 is a good friend we don't get to see very often. If we've got the chance to see him and meet his new girlfriend, I wonder if we should pass it up just because Wells has a different agenda." He gave her a sideways look. "This wouldn't have anything to do with what happened a couple of weeks ago, I suppose?" She shrugged innocently. "It might have." "Lois..." he said in his 'don't beat about the bush' voice. "Okay, yes - it does," she replied. "I think this a great chance to patch things up between you and him-" "We already did that." She raised an eyebrow. "You did?" "Yes," he nodded. "We talked everything through while I was there, and ended up parting on pretty good terms, actually." "Except you still don't trust him," she observed. He pulled a face. "Trust isn't something you fix overnight - it takes time." "True, but I remember you saying a long time ago that you trusted him implicitly, so what's changed?" Not that she didn't know, of course; the difference was that since then he had learnt that Clark2's feelings for her were so strong, he had almost kissed her. But she was making a point - or at least, she was trying to. "I think you know the answer to that," he replied evenly. "Exactly. So maybe between the three of us, we can work that out. And maybe with his Lois there, you'll be able to see where his feelings really lie." "Maybe," he agreed without conviction. "And if they do need help with Luthor, or anything else, we can do that too." She laid a hand on his knee. "Come on, Clark - let's do it. Let's go over there and clear the air once and for all." He covered her hand with his own and stared at it for a long time. "I guess it would be good to meet his Lois," he said at last. "She must have quite a story to tell, if she's come back from being lost in the Congo for...what would it be? Four years?" "That sounds about right. I wonder what she was doing all that time - although maybe she doesn't remember." He looked up at her. "You remembered everything that happened to you after you got your memory back, didn't you?" She nodded. "Mostly. There were one or two blanks, but they came back eventually." "Maybe that's something you could set her mind at rest about," he suggested. "So - you agree? We'll go over there, say hi, and maybe spend a couple of days with them if they don't mind?" "That's a very big 'if'," he observed dryly. "I'm not even sure they'll want us there at all." "Hey, when did that ever stop us doing anything?" she asked with a wink. He smiled. "Replace 'us' with 'me', and I might agree with you." She pretended to punch his arm. "Cheeky." "I'll go fetch Wells," he said, standing up. "Let's hope he hasn't electrocuted himself in there." ********* The Other Universe Clark stared glumly into the washing-up bowl as it filled up with water and soap-suds. He'd known she wouldn't like the idea of just dropping everything they'd been involved with back in Metropolis, and that was why he'd wanted them to spend just a little longer together at the farmhouse before he'd introduced her to the idea. He'd hoped that she would start to unwind and begin to enjoy the peace and quiet of the farmhouse and its surrounding countryside, and hopefully get just a tiny bit hooked on the tranquillity and lack of hassle. Then he could have slipped the idea into the conversation naturally, and it wouldn't have seemed like an outrageous, off-the-wall suggestion, but a natural consequence of the happiness they'd found together at last. He shoved his hand into the bowl and encouraged the soap suds to lather up. Of course, he had been kidding himself. There was no way Lois was going to let go of the investigation and forego her determination to see Luthor jailed for life. The man had hurt her too badly for that; Clark knew that really. And her determination was why he loved her, after all. That, and a whole bunch of other reasons. But he was so tired. Life just seemed to be one big climb up a slope that got steeper and steeper. He turned off the water and started to wash the first glass. <> His hand nearly crushed the glass in shock. It had been a few weeks since he'd heard that voice in his head. <> he replied after a second, surprised at how quickly the dormant skill came back to him. <> <> he asked. <> "Clark, I'm going for a walk. When I come back, we'll talk about this properly, okay?" He was aware that Lois had walked into the kitchen and spoken to him, but he couldn't spare enough brain power to figure out what it was she had said. When it was this rusty, telepathy took all of his concentration. <> he asked CK. "Clark? Are you listening to me?" Again, she had spoken, but her words faded into the background while he was straining to sense CK's reply. <> <> "Fine - have it your way. Maybe you'll be in a better mood when I come back." Suddenly, Lois's words crystallised into meaningful sentences and he whirled around to reply to her directly. "Sorry! I was miles away." <> "Well, maybe that's because your conscience is telling you that's exactly where you should be - miles away from here," she replied acerbically. "Lois, please stay," he blurted out, suddenly realising that if she walked out the front door right now, she'd bump into Lois and CK. <> <> He really couldn't cope with this dual conversation. She had her hands on her hips. "Clark, I'll follow you to the ends of the earth, but not until we've finished what we started back in Metropolis." "No, I meant please don't go out for a walk right now. We need to talk." He needed to tell her about parallel universes, for a start... "I know we do, but you seemed to want to perform household duties instead." <> <> "Just give me one minute to clear this up, okay?" he said frantically. "Then we'll talk." "One minute?" She glanced at her watch. "Okay, you've got 60 seconds, starting now. I'll be in the lounge, counting." She turned on her heel and walked out. Clark turned back to the washing with a huge sigh of relief. <> He could feel the smile in CK's thoughts. <> <> <> <> He felt CK's chortle. ********* "How about a stroll down to Shuster's field?" suggested Clark. Lois smiled. "A stroll down memory lane?" "No doubt it looks just the same here, but I have to admit I'm curious. I never got around to looking last time I was here." Lois linked arms with him. "Let's find out." ********* "57, 58, 59-" Clark zoomed into the lounge and stopped dead in front of Lois. She looked up at him. "60. OK, you got here in time. Now sit, and let's talk." Clark sat down slowly in his Dad's old armchair, buying himself thinking time. He had no idea how he was going to pull this off without annoying Lois any more than she already was, but somehow he had to do it. "So, explain to me again why you think it's a good idea to abandon everything we've been working towards for the past two weeks," demanded Lois. "I don't think I quite got it first time around." "It's...a lot of things," he began cautiously. "Do you remember that woman I told you about, who looked exactly like you? The one we all thought actually *was* you?" She frowned. "That was her picture, wasn't it? The one you were looking at over lunch." "Yes. I shouldn't really have kept it, but it was the closest likeness I had of you for a long time. Anyway, I think I told you she just appeared from nowhere and said she was you, didn't I?" "Perry partnered the two of you on a story," said Lois, nodding. "That's right. But I haven't really told you everything about her." "Oh?" she raised an eyebrow. "No." Clark paused, and considered Lois's sceptical, slightly impatient face, feeling his way gradually into an explanation which wouldn't sound too crazy. "She wasn't really an impostor," he said finally. "She was you." Lois gave him a look which told him he'd failed dismally. "She was me," she repeated heavily. "So who am I? Snow White?" "No...look - before you heard of me, did you believe in aliens from outer space?" "No, of course not," she said impatiently. "But what on earth has all this to do with you wanting to drop the investigation, Clark?" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. He leaned forward on the chair. "Lois, please - bear with me," he implored. "I'll get to the point eventually." "Does hell freeze over first?" she asked sarcastically. In spite of himself, he smiled slightly at her pithy comment. "No, I promise we'll get there before the next ice age sets in." "Well, then, get on with it!" He drew in a slow, calming breath. "Okay, so you agree that the idea of alien life was pretty much fantasy to you until I came along?" She shook her head at him. "I have no idea where you're going with this, but, okay, yes, I agree." "Fine." Time to go for the punchline... "Because that's pretty much how I felt about parallel universes until I met a visitor from one," he declared. "Parallel universes." She nodded sagely. "Well, why not? I guess I was probably wrong about fairies and leprechauns too. And the moon *is* really made of cheese, isn't it? One of those holey ones, like Emmental. Yup, parallel universes makes sense to me." He eyed her warily. "You're not buying this, are you?" "Full marks, Clark!" she erupted. "Of course I'm not buying it - are you crazy? Do you think *I'm* crazy?" "I think you're the sanest person I know, actually," he murmured as an aside. "And why should parallel universes be any less credible than aliens from outer space? You would have said they were both the stuff of science fiction once upon a time, yet here I am, the living proof that you were wrong." "Well, okay, but does that have to mean that everything I don't believe is now true?" she retorted. "Just because I was wrong once doesn't mean I was wrong all the time." "True, but can't you at least keep an open mind about this?" "Why, Clark?" she asked, clearly utterly bemused and frustrated by his clumsy explanations. "Why do I need to believe in parallel universes?" He considered his options. He could hedge around some more and try to get her thinking more openly about the concept, so that the news that her doppelganger from another universe was about to come knocking on their front door wouldn't be so much of a surprise when he finally told her. However, he seemed to be making a hash of that tactic so far. Alternatively, he could just hit her straight up with the facts. One thing he'd learned about this Lois, he thought ruefully, which was the same as the other Lois, was that she never skirted around an issue. She went straight for the jugular, and so maybe he should do the same with her. It couldn't go much worse than anything he'd tried so far. He faced her directly. "Because the woman in that picture was from a parallel universe, her name is also Lois Lane, and in about twenty minutes' time, she's going to be walking through the front door of this farmhouse," he said, throwing caution completely to the wind. "I figured you'd want some warning before she arrives with her husband." He watched her tensely. Not unsurprisingly, she just stared at him open-mouthed to begin with. Eventually, she spoke. "Clark, are you feeling all right? I-" He shook his head in frustration. "I'm fine, Lois! This-" She held up a hand to stop him. "I know last night's fight with Lex upset you a lot more than you're admitting, but making up stories about strangers from parallel universes isn't the way to deal with it. You need to talk about the real issues. We both do." "I know we do, and I'm not trying to avoid all that. It's just that this is important - I'm trying to prepare you for a surprise. A big surprise." "Oh, Clark..." She was shaking her head again, and incredulity had been replaced by a look of concern. "Don't do this to yourself." He sighed. This really wasn't going very well at all. ********** "How do you think she's taking it?" asked Lois as they strolled down the lane towards Shuster's field. "If she's anything like you, she's probably giving him a hard time," Clark replied with a grin. "Huh! And so she should. It's a lot to have thrown at you all at once." "True. But again, if she's anything like you, she'll handle it just fine," he said with a smile. "If she's anything like me," agreed Lois, tightening her hold on his arm. Clark looked at her. "Nervous?" She smiled ruefully. "Just a bit. I've never met myself before - what if she doesn't like me?" He stopped, slipped her into his arms and kissed her lightly. "Impossible," he told her. "What's not to like?" She looked up at him, studying his face. "You're very cheery," she observed. "What happened to my grumpy, irritable husband?" He shrugged. "The sun is shining and it's a beautiful day." "You're not worried about meeting Clark2 again?" "Of course I am, but we're here and there's no going back, so I may as well enjoy a stroll in the sunshine with my wife rather than fret about a meeting which is going to happen whatever I do." He took her hand and led her forwards. "Come on, the gate is just around this next bend." She walked with him until they rounded the corner and then he stopped again. "Uh-oh," he said. "End of the line, I think." "What?" Instead of answering her, he took a couple of paces further forward and stopped again. "Definitely." He put his arm around her shoulder and hustled her back around the corner again. "What, Clark?" "Maybe Clark2's never been down here, or the field's been ploughed recently," he said, "but there's definitely kryptonite back there." "Are you all right?" she asked immediately. He smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine - I could sense it before I got too close." "Then it looks like Lois and I have a clean-up operation ahead of us," she concluded. Clark nodded. "I think that would be a very good idea." ********** Clark paced up and down in front of Lois, unaware that he was further damaging his cause by presenting the perfect image of a man at the end of his tether. "Lois, I promise you I'm not having some kind of breakdown because of what happened last night with Luthor," he insisted. "Do you really think I'm that unstable?" "Well, what else am I to think?" replied Lois, following him from her position on the sofa as he crossed backwards and forward. "First you fly us out here in the middle of the night instead of taking us back to your apartment, then all morning you refuse to talk about anything except your happy childhood on the farm and what a great place Smallville is, and now you're telling me this crazy stuff about parallel universes and other Lois Lanes instead of having a proper discussion about why we're still here, which is what you promised me when we sat down here ten minutes ago." She paused for breath. "Lois-" "If that's not the behaviour of someone trying to avoid reality, I don't know what is," she added. "I am *not* trying to avoid reality! I'm trying to introduce you to some." She rolled her eyes at him. "And just look at yourself, Clark - you're pacing around like some kind of caged animal." He stopped. "That's only because I'm frustrated." But when she simply stared at him, he sat down again and settled deliberately into the back of the seat. "Look, I'm sorry," he said in a quieter voice. "I don't seem to be handling this very well. I only just found out myself that the other Lois is on her way here, so I haven't had much time to plan how to say all this." "Only just found out? How?" Clark groaned internally. This probably wasn't the time to tell her about telepathy. "Her husband contacted me," he said, skirting around the truth. "When?" "When I was washing up." She crossed her arms. "I didn't notice a phone in the kitchen." "It's behind the door," he answered quickly, reflecting that at least that much was true - even if it wasn't actually connected. "So you see I haven't had very long to figure out the best way to break this to you." "Or very long to invent a plausible story," she muttered, but before he could dissimulate, she continued. "Okay, say I believe you. I still don't understand what this has to do with you wanting to set up home here instead of going back to Metropolis." "Well, it doesn't really having much to do with that..." he trailed off, suddenly realising that this so-called social visit of CK's and Lois's was an amazing coincidence. No sooner had he arrived at the farmhouse with the idea of leaving his life in Metropolis behind, than here they were, knocking on his door. Almost as if they'd been sent. Well, if they'd been sent to persuade him to change his mind, then they could go straight back to their own universe. They, or H G Wells, had no business telling him what to do with his life. "So why are they here?" asked Lois. "That's a very good question," he said dryly. ********** Lois and Clark stood, hand in hand, outside the front door. "You think he'll be okay with this?" asked Lois. "He sounded pleased enough to see us when I 'spoke' to him before," replied Clark brightly. "Hold on." He closed his eyes. <> <> Clark opened his eyes and frowned at Lois. "Something's wrong. He sounds completely different." Lois grimaced. "Maybe she didn't take it as well as you thought she would." "Maybe. Still, like he just said, we're here, so we may as well go in." He pressed the doorbell. Lois squeezed his hand as the door swung open. A tense Clark2 stood in the doorway, dressed in tatty jeans and a faded t-shirt. "Hi." Clark extended his hand. "It's great to see you again," he replied warmly. Clark2 accepted the handshake briefly. "And you. You too, Lois," he added with a nod in her direction. "I'm sorry we came at such short notice," said Lois. "Is Lois okay with this?" Clark2's mouth twisted. "Not really. She thinks I'm having a nervous breakdown, actually. Sane people don't talk about parallel universes, you see." Clark's heart sank. Clark2 sounded tense and depressed, and it was probably largely their fault for forcing him into a situation where he had to explain a pretty far- fetched concept far too hurriedly. "Maybe we should come back-" began Lois. "Come on, Clark," said an oddly familiar voice from behind Clark2. "Let's meet these universe-travellers of yours." And suddenly she was standing beside Clark2 in the doorway. Clark couldn't stop himself from staring at her. She could have been Lois's twin-sister, the similarity was so striking. Her hair was different, and she wore more make- up than Lois, but she had the same face and the same build as his wife. Her clothes weren't exactly Lois's style - he couldn't imagine his own Lois ever wearing a pink-sequinned t-shirt, but his practised eye could see that the figure underneath the clothes was the same as Lois's. She was looking very shocked. Her eyes darted between himself and Lois, taking in the obvious similarities between herself and her partner, and the couple standing in front of her. Eventually, her gaze settled on Clark. "You never said he looked like you," she said faintly to Clark2. Clark2 put an arm around her shoulders. "You didn't exactly give me a chance," he said softly. Clark felt a small pang of guilt when she pulled herself away from Clark2's embrace. There was an obvious rift between the two, and he couldn't help wondering if he'd been the cause. "Why don't we take this indoors?" suggested his wife pleasantly. "It looks like Clark and I have a lot of explaining to do." She ushered everyone inside before they could protest. Clark followed, thankful for her no-nonsense, take-charge approach. "Clark?" repeated the other Lois as she was led into the living room. Clark went up to her and held out his hand. "Yes, my name is Clark Kent, too. I know that sounds crazy, but we'll do our best to explain," he said with a smile. She clasped his hand, and he had a brief moment of total confusion when their hands met. He was shaking hands with his wife, except she wasn't his wife. He caught her eye, and saw that she was experiencing the same feeling. They both broke the handshake abruptly. "This had better be good," said the other Lois, and he immediately recognised his wife's trick of covering up her real feelings with heavy cynicism. She retreated to the sofa and sat down abruptly. Clark glanced awkwardly at Clark2, his ingrained politeness preventing him from emulating his hostess's disregard of the social niceties. "Have a seat," said Clark2, gesturing vaguely at a couple of armchairs. "Can I get you anything? A beer, perhaps, or I think we've got some coke, haven't we Lois?" "You drank the last can at lunchtime," she answered flatly. "There's always water. It's very good here, apparently - but I guess you already know that," she said to Clark cynically. "Yes," answered Clark. "Although your Mom always points out that soft water isn't actually very good for you," added Lois. Clark nodded. "True." "I remember that..." said Clark2 softly. Clark looked up at him sharply. "She'd read somewhere that people who live in soft water areas have a higher incidence of heart disease," he said. "And that made her worry a little about Dad-" "-because his father had died of a heart attack." They stared at each other for a second. These shared, mutual memories never ceased to take Clark by surprise, even though they'd already done this many times over. It was like talking to the brother he never had. "So, no water?" asked Clark2 shakily after a moment. "No, thanks." "Me either," added Lois. "Think I'll get myself something," said Clark2. "Lois?" "No, thanks." "Back in a sec," he said, and disappeared quickly into the kitchen. Clark frowned at his friend's hasty retreat, wondering whether to follow him or not. "That was a neat trick," observed the other Lois. "How did you know about his parents?" He sighed. "Because they were my parents too. Or at least they were in this universe." "I thought you came from another universe." "I...we do." He shook his head. "Let's start from the top, shall we? I'll try to explain everything so it doesn't sound too crazy." "Think I'll get myself a glass of water after all," interrupted his Lois suddenly, already up and crossing to the kitchen. "You carry on, Clark - I'll catch up." He found himself frowning again. Lois obviously didn't want water, she wanted to talk to Clark2 in private. What about? Pushing away conflicting thoughts, he forced his attention back to the other Lois. ********* Lois pushed through the kitchen door to find Clark2 with his back to her at the sink, sipping water from a glass. She crossed the floor and stood beside him. "You okay?" she asked mildly, picking up a glass from the draining board. He turned around to face her. "Me? Why shouldn't I be?" She shrugged. "Clark has a knack of jogging memories. I know it's difficult for you to remember your parents." His mouth twisted. "Very good, Lois. You read me just like a book." "Only because I know Clark so well, and you're very like him." She leant across him and filled her glass from the tap. "So what am I thinking now, Lois?" he asked harshly. Instead of answering, she straightened up slowly and studied his face. He seemed different, somehow. The man she had known was softer and gentler than the tense, cynical person facing her. "What happened, Clark? Why are you so distant?" He snorted. "What happened? What didn't happen - that would be a shorter list." "Tell me," she said softly. But he shook his head. "No, I'm not going to play true confessions with you, Lois. Not this time." "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked. "Well, look where that got us last time," he said. Slowly, he laid his glass on the draining board, and looked at her with a serious expression which made her feel vaguely uncomfortable. She was suddenly aware of how close they were standing to each other, and edged a few inches away from him. "That was different, Clark. We were both tired and lonely. I was missing Clark, and you..." "What was I, Lois?" he asked. "You were confused." "Am I confused now?" He was standing right over her, having somehow closed the gap between them again. His behaviour was very strange; he seemed almost predatory in the way he was questioning her and the way he was carrying himself. Yet, oddly, she couldn't back off; it was as if there was an invisible force binding them together. All she could do was stare up into his dark, intense eyes. "Yes, I think you are," she replied slowly. "Let's see if you're right," he said quickly, and before she could stop him, he had grabbed her shoulders and was pressing his lips hard up against her own. Cold shock made her freeze in his embrace. He broke away almost immediately. "I should have done that first time around," he said breathlessly. "Then I would have known." "Known what?" she asked faintly, reeling from the shock. "That there's nothing between us," he replied. His cool, impertinent answer snapped her out of her shock, and in a white hot rage, her hand shot upwards to slap his face. He caught her wrist within inches of his cheek, and the moment was etched on her soul for ever. Time stood still for a second, and then the blistering fury returned and she snatched her arm away. "How dare you," she seethed in a low voice shaking with emotion. "How dare you treat me like that." She pushed him forcibly away with her hands, not caring that he staggered slightly. "Get away from me." She steadied herself with one hand on the draining board, unable to believe what had just happened. Clark2 had kissed her. Forcibly; without her consent. He seemed to slowly crumple in front of her. His arms came up and he buried his face in the crook of his elbows. His body folded in on itself. "Oh, God, what was I thinking?" he moaned softly. "What have I done?" "Don't you ever, *ever* do anything to me like that again," she told him, still shaking from the reaction. "It was rude, callous, and downright disgusting." "I know," he whispered. "I don't know what got into me. I'm sorry, Lois; I'm so, so sorry." Sorry! He was sorry - only sorry? Did he have any idea what he'd just done? How *invaded* she felt? She turned away from him and picked up her glass with a shaking hand. The cold liquid helped calm her nerves a little, and she took a few sips before trusting herself to speak again. "I don't know what's happened to you, Clark," she said without looking at him. "But whatever it is, it's changed you. The man who helped Clark defeat Tempus would never have done what you just did to me." "I know," he whispered again. "Is it Lois?" she asked, trying to find some logic in the madness. "Is she not what you expected?" He didn't answer her immediately. She glanced over at him, and found that he'd lowered his arms but was still covering his face with his hands. "She's everything I expected," he replied emotionally, slowly dragging his hands away from his face to reveal stricken, devastated features. "I love her so much it hurts." "Then why, Clark?" "I don't know," he said. "Please, Lois, you've got to believe I didn't mean that. I just don't know what came over me." "Well, you'd better figure it out soon. Lois won't stand for that kind of behaviour any more than I will." "No." He paused. "You won't tell her?" he asked guiltily. "No, I'll leave that to your conscience." She walked up to him and spoke in a low, angry voice. "And if you ever tell Clark what happened in here, I swear I'll find a way to damage that invulnerable body of yours. Okay?" "Yes. But please, Lois - I don't want us to become enemies because of this. I know I did wrong; terribly, unforgivably wrong, but will you ever be able to put this behind you?" She glanced at the door. "For the sake of the two people next door, I will treat you with the respect I always have done - I'll even be good-humoured with it, because Clark doesn't deserve any less. Neither, I suspect, does Lois. But you're going to have to earn my friendship, Clark. I don't have any friends who treat me with the contempt you just showed me." He nodded. "That's very fair of you, Lois - thank you. And I promise I'll do everything in my power to regain your friendship," he added contritely. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she warned. "I'll keep this one," he said seriously. "Okay." She glanced at the door again. "I'm going to go back into the living room now, and you're going to pull yourself together and follow me, as if nothing has happened. Just two friends fetching a drink together." "Sure." She looked up at his face. "And splash some water on your face - you look terrible." She collected her glass, took a deep breath, and pushed through the door. "So, what have I missed?" she asked brightly. ********** Clark glanced at the kitchen door again. What was taking them so long in there? They were only supposed to be fetching drinks, yet they'd been in there for ages. "So are you from Krypton too?" He dragged his eyes back to Lois2, as he'd automatically christened her mentally. "Yes." "Prove it," she said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms in front of her. Clearly, she thought she had wrong-footed him. Sighing, and thanking his lucky stars that he'd sensed the kryptonite in Shuster's field before it had done him any harm, he let himself gradually float upwards above his chair. He watched her eyes grow wide as he rose. When his head bumped up against the ceiling, he glanced around the room for something with which to demonstrate his other powers. "Watch the fireplace," he said. Directing a wide-ish beam of laser energy from his eyes, he lit one of the logs in the fire, waited until it was burning nicely, then blew it out again with a carefully- aimed stream of cold air. Then he let himself sink back into his chair, noticing that she followed him with her eyes all the way down. After a noticeable pause, her mouth hardened. "That still doesn't prove you're from another universe." He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "What do you want me to do, Lois? Produce my birth certificate that says I'm Martha and Jonathan Kent's son?" "You could forge that," she observed. "Yes. But ask yourself this: why would I? You've now got proof that I have the same powers as Clark, and am therefore most likely also from Krypton like he is. Why would I, a fellow member of Clark's race, arrive on your doorstep and start trying to convince you I'm from another universe? What would be the point?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't know yet." He threw his hands up in the air. "Don't you trust anyone?" he asked in exasperation. "No." "Not even Clark?" She hesitated. "Usually, yes. But Clark has some personal issues at the moment and I don't think it's appropriate to drag him into this." Clark pounced, eager to demonstrate his inside knowledge. "Those personal issues wouldn't have anything to do with Lex Luthor, would they?" "Ah, now we get to the real reason you're here," she said cynically. "You're from a newspaper, aren't you? Somehow, you've figured out this is where we came after the TV show last night, and you've trailed us all the way out here so you can get a scoop for your editor. Well, I'm sorry, pal, but we're not ready to talk to you or your partner, so you may as well go back to Metropolis and tell your editor you couldn't find us." So much for pouncing. He was beginning to understand why Clark2 had looked so frazzled when he had opened the door earlier. This Lois was even harder to talk around than his own. He leaned forward and started enumerating points on his fingers. "Okay - one: yes, I am from a newspaper. As you might expect, since I'm Clark Kent from a different universe, I work for the Daily Planet, and Lois is my partner. She's also my wife, and you might like to think about what that means in relation to you and Clark." He paused and flicked his eyes over at her. She was frowning, which he supposed might be progress. He continued. "Two: I'm not here to get a scoop, I'm here as Clark's friend. We've met a few times before, and gotten to know each other pretty well. When I heard that he'd finally found you, the woman he'd been searching for, I thought it would be nice to pay him and his new partner a visit. That's what friends do. Three: You're a journalist - would you try and interview someone by pretending you're from another universe? I doubt it. Four: what do you think the chances are of a journalist turning up here in Smallville who looks exactly like Clark, with a wife and partner who looks exactly like you? Thousand to one? Million to one? And feel free to poke and prod all you like, but I can assure you that this is all me, and not make-up or plastic surgery." He finished and watched her frown her way through some obviously serious thinking. Finally, she nodded briefly. "Okay, you've convinced me - you're not chasing down our story. And I guess this can't really be some kind of elaborate set-up, unless Clark arranged it, and I don't know when he would have had time to do that. Mind you, he could have flown back to Metropolis last night...but I don't think he would have done anything like that." She looked at him and grimaced. "I guess I'm left with the horrible conclusion that you're actually telling me the truth." He raised a silent cheer. "I know it sounds completely crazy, but it's true." "I have difficulty with the concept of parallel universes, but I suppose I'll have to live with it until something better comes along," she added dryly. The kitchen door burst open and his wife emerged carrying a glass of water. "So, what have I missed?" she asked brightly. Clark eyed her as she crossed the room, came to sit beside him, and slid an affectionate arm around his shoulders. She kissed his cheek briefly before turning to Lois2. "Are we making progress?" she asked with a smile. Immediately, he chastised himself for being suspicious just because she was showing a little extra affection than usual. Lois didn't have anything to hide from him. Not deliberately. "I think I just managed to convince Lois here that we really are from a parallel universe," he told her. "Great!" She looked at Lois2. "I didn't think it was possible either until I saw it with my own eyes. "Well, as I told your husband, I still have a problem with the concept, but I guess you two are the living proof that it's at least a possibility." Lois squeezed his shoulders affectionately. She reached for his nearest hand, and automatically, he intertwined his fingers with hers while determinedly *not* reading anything into her actions. "Has he shown you that he's just like your Clark? In his own, unique way, I mean?" "Yes, I'd say he gave a pretty effective demonstration," the other Lois replied wryly. "What did you do, honey?" Lois asked with a smile. "Oh, just a little floating and such like. Nothing spectacular." "Don't you love it when they say that?" Lois remarked. "Just a little floating - nothing spectacular," she repeated jokily. "Yes, I guess it is a little arrogant," replied Lois2. Lois frowned. "No, I didn't mean-" "How's it going?" interrupted Clark2, bursting through the kitchen door. "Have you had any more success than I did with the parallel universe thing?" He perched on the arm of his Lois's chair and rested his hand on her shoulder. Clark thought he saw her twitch slightly, but at least she didn't duck away from him this time. She did grimace, however. "Why is it I'm beginning to feel like the subject of a psychiatric experiment?" she asked waspishly. "I'm sorry," she apologised, nodding over to Clark and Lois. "I've only just met you, so I probably shouldn't be speaking so plainly, but I'm getting a little tired of being treated as 'subject A, the sceptic'," she said, enclosing her imaginary title in air-quotes. "And we're sorry, too," said Clark immediately. "We've dumped a lot of stuff on you this past half hour, and it was probably the last thing you wanted right now. And I'm sorry if we've been rude to you." He glanced at Clark2. <> Silence. "We knew this would be difficult for you," added Lois. "But we really wanted to meet you. We know how much Clark was longing to find you, you see." He tried again. <> Silence. Lois2's mouth twisted. "You seem to know almost as much about me as I do myself. How did you know I was missing and that Clark was looking for me?" "Because Clark's a good friend of ours. Aren't you, Clark?" said Lois. If he didn't know better, Clark would have thought he detected a note of irony in Lois's voice. He might also have thought that Clark2 actually seemed to squirm under Lois's questioning. "Yes," Clark2 confirmed after an infinitesimal hesitation. "Lois and Clark are very good friends of mine, although we don't get to see each other as often as we'd like." Clark probed outwards with his mind, trying to sense Clark2's feelings, just as he'd found he'd been able to do the previous times they'd met. He wanted to figure out why Clark2 was suddenly ignoring his telepathic conversation, but all he encountered was a silent barrier. He tried looking directly at Clark2, but his friend refused to meet his gaze. This needed sorting, but not now. Lois had persuaded him to come here to resolve any lingering bad feeling between them, and it appeared that somehow, things had already got worse instead of better. He would have to talk to Clark2 privately, he decided. "And how does that work, exactly?" the other Lois was asking. "How do you travel between these universes, and why hasn't Clark mentioned it before? Do you all have some kind of inter-universe travelling device?" she suggested with a hint of mockery in her voice. Lois snorted. "Sort of. He's called H G Wells." "H G Wells? Like the writer?" "He *is* the writer," said Lois. "But isn't he dead?" "Sometimes," replied Lois. Lois2 stared for a moment, then her mouth settled into a firm line. "Okay, I haven't got time for this." She glanced at her watch. "Clark, do you realise it's three o'clock in the afternoon, and we still haven't even told Jeff where we are? And are you taking me back to Metropolis or not, because if you're not, I'm calling a cab." "Lois, don't do that," began Clark2 despondently. "Sure, I'll take you back to Metropolis if that's what you really want." "Fine, then let's go." She stood up and crossed to offer her hand to Clark. "It was nice to meet you," she said politely. "Perhaps you'll come and visit us in Metropolis some time?" Clark stood up and took her hand, and once again experienced the weird feeling of holding his wife's hand without the hand actually belonging to his wife. He saw his confusion reflected in her own eyes. "I'm sorry you have to leave so soon." Lois got up from the sofa to stand beside him, with a casual hand resting across his back. "Me too," she added. Her move made him break the handshake with the other woman, and for a split second he wondered if his wife had done so deliberately. Had it looked as if they had been holding on to each other for too long? "Well, Clark and I have a criminal to catch, don't we?" Lois2 answered, glancing briefly behind her at Clark2. "Yeah..." replied Clark2 with a heavy sigh. "Oh, come on, Clark!" said Lois2 impatiently, whirling away from Clark and his wife to face her partner. "Anyone would think you don't want to see Lex behind bars. I would have thought last night's fiasco would have made you even more determined, but instead you seem to want to run away and pretend it never happened." Behind Lois2, Clark exchanged a look with Lois. It certainly looked as if Wells had been right about something, at least. Clark2's face hardened, confirming their thoughts. "I do not want to run away! And I do want to see Luthor brought to justice. It's just-" "Just what, Clark?" Lois2 interrupted. "Just that you'd prefer to shirk your responsibilities and go live on a farm for the rest of your life?" "No..." Clark2 stood up from his perch on the side of Lois2's chair and started pacing. "You don't know what it's like. I have no privacy; whatever I do, someone is watching me. If I'm out as Superman, everyone knows it's really me, Clark Kent. If I'm trying to be plain old Clark Kent, everyone knows I'm Superman, their resident all-round do-gooder and tame alien from another planet. It's gotten so I can't be me any more, Lois." "Excuse me, but I do know what it's like!" she retorted. "I've lived with you for long enough to know exactly what it's like, and it's not as bad as you're making it sound. The people at the Planet don't give you a second glance; you're just part of the furniture there. And Jeff treats you like any other member of staff. You don't get mobbed every time you walk down the street, and as far as I know, you don't have reporters banging on your door all the time either. And when was the last time someone laughed in your face as Superman, because you're only some guy who works for the local newspaper? Face it, Clark, you're just using all this as an excuse to duck out." "I am n-" "And you're not the only one who went through hell and back yesterday, you know - or are you forgetting that I was the one who got attacked by Lex, not you?" Her voice was rising in pitch and emotion as she continued her rant. "You're so busy feeling sorry for yourself you seem to have forgotten about me completely. *I* was the one who was cornered in an abandoned office; *I* was the one who was nearly assaulted; *I* was the one got accused of being a dirty pr-" "Lois!" Clark2 interrupted her agitatedly. "Well, they may as well know. In fact, they probably already know anyway - they seem to know everything else about me," she added sarcastically, and turned to Clark and Lois. "Not that it'll be news to you, but I used to be a prostitute," she said flatly. Clark blinked, utterly lost for words. The argument seemed to have escalated out of nowhere, while he and Lois faded into the background as if the two had forgotten they even had company. But now she was staring at them, her mouth a thin, white line, her eyes flaring with anger. He was shocked by the level of hurt hiding behind her anger. Someone had hurt Lois2 very badly, and he was sure - he hoped - it wasn't Clark2. He was just recovering from being rounded on when she lifted her chin defiantly and twisted back to Clark2. "See? The world didn't stop just because I told someone." "Of course it didn't, Lois. That's not what I meant, and you know it." She faced Clark and Lois again. "Judging from your faces, I guess you didn't know," she concluded. "Not very nice, is it? Not exactly the clean, well brought-up, all- American girlfriend you were expecting, am I?" she said harshly, and Clark could see her trembling with emotion. "She's only saying that to shock you," interjected Clark2 from behind. "She doesn't actually know that was what she was." "Well, frankly," said Clark's wife. "I don't think it matters what you were or weren't. What matters is whether you love Clark, and whether he loves you." "Couldn't have put it better myself," agreed Clark, finding his voice again. "Look, we don't want to interfere, but it sounds like you two have been through an incredibly awful ordeal recently. I know we're almost strangers to you, Lois, but if there's anything we can do to help, we'd be glad to, wouldn't we, honey?" His words sounded trite as soon as they left his mouth, but he felt he had to say or do something to break up the fight between the pair. Lois nodded beside him. "You can start by telling him to stop acting like an ostrich and take us back to Metropolis!" Lois2 said, and suddenly a huge sob shook her. Dashing away a tear from the side of her face with her fingers, she continued in a shaky voice, "If anyone wants me, I'll be upstairs packing my toothbrush." She took a few stumbling steps away from them, then rushed out of the room. They stood, frozen in place, while her racing footfalls thudded up the staircase and a door slammed shut. The room was deafeningly silent following her exit. Clark2 looked heart-broken, and Clark knew just how he felt. When his Lois was this upset, it tore him up into tiny pieces. "I-I'm sorry," Clark2 stammered helplessly. "I..." "Would you like one of us to talk to her?" asked Clark softly. He shook his head. "No, I'll go." He paused, then drew in a shuddering breath. "I've been incredibly selfish, you know." "Yes," conceded Lois. "But don't tell us that, tell her." He gave her an arrested look, then nodded briefly and turned to follow his girlfriend upstairs. When he was safely out of earshot, Clark looked at Lois. "That was a bit harsh, wasn't it?" She shrugged. "Sounds to me as though he probably has been selfish. He's obviously dragged her out here against her will, and then proceeded to wallow in his own self-pity. If you ask me, what he needs is a good kick up the backside." "Lois!" "Well, maybe not that, but I do think he needs to stop thinking about himself so much and start thinking about her, or he'll lose her." "Maybe. But I think I'll reserve judgement until I've heard the whole story." She punched him lightly in the arm. "You're infuriatingly fair sometimes, you know that?" "Yeah. It's part of my charm." He looked at his watch. "Time for a coffee?" "May as well. I think they're going to be up there a while." ********** "Lois?" "Go away." Clark2 stood outside his parents' old bedroom and knocked on the door again. "Lois, please let me in." "No." "We need to talk, Lois." "What - about how great cherry tomatoes taste and what colour your first bike was? No thanks," she replied bitterly. He winced. "Really talk, Lois. I know I've been incredibly selfish towards you." "Yes, you have." "But I also love you, and I don't want to lose you. Please let me in." "Why don't you just break the door down, then? You know you can." "Because I would never do something you didn't want me to." "You already did." He laid his forehead against the door and closed his eyes. "I know." And the more he thought about it, the more he realised just how much he'd screwed up. Last night, he'd carelessly let her out of his sight, and the consequences had been her near-assault by Luthor. Then, just when she probably least needed it, he'd dragged her out here to a cold farmhouse in the middle of the night and made her spend the night in an unfamiliar bed in unfamiliar surroundings. Then, he'd sprung the idea of leaving Metropolis for good on her, before she'd even had a chance to catch her breath. Then he'd kissed Lois. Oh, God, why had he done that? He loved this Lois, not the one downstairs, didn't he? So why had he done it? "Lois, I love you," he repeated, needing to hear himself say it as much as for her benefit. "Then take me back to Metropolis," she replied. "I will, I promise," he said. "But can we just talk first?" There was silence, and at first, he thought she was ignoring him again. Then the key turned in the door and it swung open, to reveal her walking away from him back to the bed. "The first mention of cherry tomatoes and you're out of here," she said in a small voice. He closed the door carefully, and went to sit beside her on the end of the bed. "I promise I won't mention tomatoes once," he replied gently. "Good." He wasn't sure if she'd let him, but when he hesitantly put his arm around her shoulders, she didn't object. And after a pause, they moved closer together and she leaned up against him in the shelter of his arm. "I wanted to talk, and all you wanted to do was look at photo albums," she said sadly. "I know. I'm sorry." "Maybe your way of coping is to pretend nothing happened, but it's not mine," she continued. "I needed to talk, Clark." "I'm here now, for as long as you want." "And it didn't help when you started talking about universes and all that crazy stuff, either" "I know, and I'm sorry about that, too. Do you want me to get rid of them?" "No, they seem like nice people." She sniffed. "I wasn't very nice to them." "I'm sure they'll understand." She looked up at him, and he tipped her chin up with his finger with a soft smile. "Let's face it, if anyone can understand, it should be them." She gave him a small smile in return. "Bet she's never been a -" He put a finger to her lips. "Hey. Don't do this to yourself. We both know that's not true." "Lex wouldn't agree with you," she said miserably. "And since when did you start believing anything that toad says? He's playing on your one weakness, Lois. You can't remember what happened, so he's trying to undermine you by feeding you hurtful lies about yourself." "I know. But that's just it - they hurt, Clark." Suddenly, he had a big lump in his throat. "Lois..." He pulled her closer still, feeling terrible that she'd been bottling this up all day long and he hadn't even noticed. "I didn't help either, did I?" "You could have done better." "I'll try and do better in the future, I promise." "Okay. Just don't forget." He rested his chin on her head with a sigh. "I don't deserve you, Lois." "No, you don't." He held her quietly for a moment or two, until her breathing calmed down and she was at peace again. She stirred after a while and twisted to gaze up at him. "You're all I've got, though, so I guess you'll have to do." He looked down at her sweet face, at her cute nose and her big, dark brown eyes, and found himself sinking slowly towards her. She met his eyes in a moment of stillness. Something electric passed between them in that moment, and then her open mouth was beckoning to him and he was sinking again. The space between their faces narrowed, and at last his lips were closing delicately over hers in a feather-light kiss. Her lips were as soft and sensuous as ever. He brought a hand up to support her head, and quickly, their gentle kiss intensified, until they were clinging on to each other and devouring each other's lips and mouth with their own. Lois broke away breathlessly. "Make love with me, Clark," she said. "We can't," he protested, but as soon as he'd said it, he was back again, hungry for her luscious lips and the feel of her soft hair running through his fingers. "They can wait," she said around his lips, tugging his t- shirt out of his jeans. "I can't." Her hands ran up inside his t-shirt, and what little resolve he had flew out the window. "Neither can I," he agreed, and surrendered himself to the inevitable. ********* "Wonder if they've made up yet?" asked Lois. Clark glanced automatically at the door. "I hope so. They've been up there long enough." "What do you think of her?" He frowned. "I think she's had a tough life." "And it shows," said Lois, nodding. "Yeah. She's a little more abrasive than I expected. But you can tell that Clark2 is head-over-heels in love with her, and that's what counts." The sides of her mouth turned downwards. "I guess." He frowned again. "What?" She shrugged. "Nothing." "No, you don't agree, do you? Don't you think he loves her?" "I think he loves her; I'm just not sure whether that's enough." "Why?" She shrugged again. "I have my reasons." "Lo-is..." "Call it women's intui..." She trailed off as a distinctive, rhythmic thud started up from above their heads. Clark's eyes travelled slowly up to the ceiling, where the central light was beginning to swing gently to and fro. The rhythmic thudding grew a little faster. "I guess they've made up," he observed wryly. ********* Lois lay cradling Clark in her arms, still slightly winded by the intensity of their love-making. Their coupling had been fierce and quite desperate, to her surprise, and, she suspected, to Clark's as well. They had both felt it; the tension and emotion of last night's ordeal suddenly needing and finding an outlet they hadn't anticipated. She was grateful for Clark's ability to float slightly even in the aftermath of lovemaking, however, for these were some of the most precious moments of their joining. After the fireworks came the peace and reconciliation of release. She needed this peace. Flashes of last night had been plaguing her all day long. Lex's hot breath on her neck while he held her roughly from behind and spoke ugly words in a low voice to her. The taste of his flesh between her teeth when she bit his hand. A furious, out of control Clark hoisting Lex up with one hand on his throat. Lex's beet-red face as Clark slowly strangled him. Cold, calculating eyes staring out from Lex's face at her, even while the life was forced out of him. Her desperate, terrified struggle to bring Clark back from the brink. Thank God she'd got through to him in the end. He stirred in her arms, drawing in a deep breath. It was a good sound; a relaxed sound, and it gave her hope that last night's ordeal wasn't going to leave a permanent scar on his psyche. She'd had her doubts, earlier, when he'd been babbling on about parallel universes and duplicate Lois Lanes. For a moment, she'd wondered whether he'd cracked under the strain of yesterday and everything which had happened before that. Especially when the parallel universe rubbish had come after dragging her out here in the middle of the night, with hardly a word of explanation, but with this crazy notion of starting their lives over again. But then the proof had arrived, in the persons of Clark Kent number two and... Her. Lois supposed there was a similarity between herself and the other woman. They were about the same height, and had the same figure - although she'd always thought her chest was bigger than that...wishful thinking, maybe. They had the same colour eyes, and she supposed their face shapes were even similar. The other woman was annoyingly slender though; the pale tan capri pants, white fine cotton sweater with three-quarter inch sleeves, and neat, flat shoes made her look trim and petite, not to mention her short, well- cut dark hair. Lois, in her blue jeans, hot pink v-neck t- shirt with brash sequins, and messy, voluminous hair, felt big and bulky by comparison. And the other woman was annoyingly pleasant and competent. A bit clingy, though, the way she hung on her husband - especially when she had emerged from the kitchen with her glass of water. Almost as if she had been trying to give out very strong 'hands off' messages to Lois. As if Lois would do anything like that! As if she needed to do anything like that, she reminded herself with a satisfied smile, running a hand slowly over her Clark's muscular shoulder. Which was why she'd deliberately made that remark about Clark number two's arrogance; just to stir things up a little in return. This, after all, was the woman who had inspired her Clark to search for her, which meant that he had fallen for this woman first, not Lois herself. Did he still harbour any feelings for her? And then she had felt as if they were all laughing at her when she had asked how the travel between universes worked. H G Wells indeed! Did they really think she was that stupid? What was it that woman had said when she had asked a perfectly reasonable question about him being dead? 'Sometimes.' Lois thought she just might end up hating Lois Lane number two. Or loving her like a sister. One of the two. Clark Kent number two, on the other hand, was...well, he was pretty darn good looking. Not as nice as her own Clark, of course, but a good second. She could imagine herself falling for him if she didn't have Clark. And that handshake had been very weird; like holding hands with her own Clark, only not. They must be very close, she decided, her Clark and the other one. Very similar, too. But hers was the best, she decided with another slow caress down his back. Even when he was messing her around and trying to make her leave her life in Metropolis behind and become a farmer's wife. He raised his head from the crook of her shoulder and kissed her softly. "I love you, Lois," he said simply. She smiled up at him. "Likewise," she replied. He kissed her again briefly. "I'd love to stay like this the rest of the day, but I guess we should go downstairs and speak to our guests." "Yeah," she said without enthusiasm. They were nice people, on the whole, but now that she and Clark were properly back together again, she'd have preferred to have him to herself for a few more hours. However, he separated from her slowly and reluctantly, dropped a final kiss on her forehead, then set about the task of reclaiming his clothes. She watched him for a moment or two, enjoying the sight of his well-defined body as he bent to pick up his trousers. Then she sighed and pushed herself off the bed. There was always tonight, she thought with a saucy grin. ********** "You have no idea how glad I am that I was never down here when my parents were..." Clark glanced up at the swaying light. "Up there." "You'd have thought a farmhouse would have thicker ceilings," said Lois. "And is it just me, or is it just a tiny bit rude to abandon your guests for a bout of bedroom gymnastics?" Clark asked, a little belligerently. "No, it's not just you," replied Lois. In fact, she was more than a little disgusted with Clark2. Not five minutes after he'd finished slobbering all over his friend's wife, he was upstairs making love to his girlfriend. Guilt made a man do strange things, it seemed. "I mean, I know they've been through a lot, but couldn't they save this for tonight?" "I guess they just couldn't wait," said Lois, pulling a face. "Maybe we interrupted something when we arrived." "A massive row is what we interrupted, if you ask me." He glanced up at the ceiling again, and then vaguely around the room. Lois thought he looked pre-occupied by something, as well as a little tense. She wasn't sure what the problem was, but she didn't think it was the noise filtering down from upstairs. His wandering gaze finally settled back on her. "Talking of parents," he said casually. "Did I upset Clark2 earlier when I mentioned mine? I noticed you were in the kitchen for quite a while with him." Lois's heart did a thump. Lifting her eyebrows innocently, she replied, "Oh, you noticed that? Yes, well, he was a bit upset - you know how difficult he finds it to talk about his own parents." She faced him calmly, keeping her hands relaxed and meeting his eyes steadily. She also prayed that he wasn't aware of her increased pulse rate; she was well aware that he could, and did, tune into her body's rhythms whenever he wanted to figure out what she was really feeling. Right now, she was feeling very nervous. He frowned slightly, and her heart sank. He knew. Trying to bluff her way out of the situation, she looked up at the ceiling, sighing heavily. "You know, I think all that activity up there is really starting to get on my nerves." Now maybe he had a plausible reason for her racing pulse. It seemed to work. "Yeah," he nodded. "I know what you mean. So, did you manage to calm him down?" "Oh, yes - eventually. I think he was a little ashamed of his behaviour, actually," she added, thinking just how excruciatingly true that was. Clark look surprised. "What - just because he went out for a glass of water? Maybe I should have a word with him later." "No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "I think he's fine. You'd just stir things up again." He shrugged. "If you say so." She looked down into her coffee mug. "Want another?" "May as well." Had she deflected his suspicions? He seemed relaxed enough as he stood up and led the way into the kitchen. He even made a joke about knowing his way around the kitchen almost as well as Clark2. But then he paused in front of the sink, just where Clark2 had kissed her, and she began panicking again - did he somehow sense a trace of what had happened there? He was standing with his back to her, his hands resting on the draining board. "Lois, are you sure you didn't talk about anything else with Clark2?" he asked heavily. She closed her eyes briefly, hating the way this was going. "No, not really," she answered. He sighed and turned to face her. "Because I just get this feeling you're hiding something from me." She frowned. "Why would I do that?" "I have no idea. Unless maybe you were telling him off about something." She swallowed hard. He knew. Somehow, he knew that Clark2 had kissed her. Well, the best form of defence was always to attack. "What is this, Clark? Why are you suddenly giving me the third degree?" she demanded. "I just wondered if you were having a quiet word with him about a certain confession he made to me. About a kiss." Kiss?!! Confession? Oh, that! Relief brought her temper to the fore. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Clark! When are you going to drop it? I thought we settled that days ago." He crossed his arms with a hardening expression. "And I thought we came here to settle it." "Between you and Clark2! Not between you and me - that part of it is history. At least, I thought it was history. You, apparently, can't let go of it. Does this mean I'm destined to apologise for something I didn't do for the rest of my life?" "No, of course not! I just don't want us to have any secrets, Lois." "Well, we...we don't!" she said, crossing her fingers behind her back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom. Maybe when I come back, you'll have dropped this stupid witch-hunt." She felt his eyes boring into her back as she walked out of the kitchen. In the bathroom, she stood staring at herself in the mirror for a long time. Did her deceit show in her eyes? She examined the face of the woman who was lying to her husband, and didn't like what she saw. In fact, she hated it, and she was angry with Clark2 for having put her in this invidious position. She bent down, splashed some water on her face, and dabbed it dry with a towel. Then she studied herself in the mirror again. Of course, she could just tell Clark. But the timing was lousy. Clark would be justifiably furious with Clark2, and no doubt a blazing row would ensue, or worse still, they wouldn't talk to each other at all. The two would end up further apart from each other than ever, and would probably never get around to patching up the differences they had come here to resolve. Clark might even insist on leaving immediately. So if anyone should tell Clark, she thought it should be Clark2 himself. That, she realised, contradicted her threat in the kitchen of dire consequences should he tell Clark, but she was beginning to revise her opinion. At least Clark might respect Clark2's honesty and latent maturity, if nothing else. And maybe if she was there, she would be able to defuse any argument which became too heated. She laughed bitterly at herself. Lois Lane, casting herself in the role of peacemaker? That was usually Clark's role. Then there was the question of Lois2. Lois suspected that she already felt excluded by the three of them; she was the only one, after all, who didn't know any of the others. She was also the only one who hadn't known about the existence of parallel universes. It also occurred to Lois that perhaps that facetious remark about Wells had been inadvisable in the circumstances. Lois2 had probably thought they had been laughing at her. So, trying to organise a three-way talk about Clark2's stupid behaviour without involving Lois2 would be difficult, if not impossible. Unless Clark2 had already told Lois2 beforehand, of course. But given his present occupation, it seemed unlikely that he'd told her so far. She sighed. Whatever happened, it was clear that this was one secret which wasn't going to stay secret very much longer. Clark was already suspicious, and she was damned if she was going to let this escalate into something which would threaten her relationship with him. Damn that stupid, stupid man and his insecurities, she thought angrily, lifting her eyes unconsciously towards the ceiling. ********** Clark slumped down on a kitchen chair. Lois wasn't being honest with him. She might as well have a neon sign hanging around her neck, the signs were so clear. He'd tried to give her a chance to open up to him - twice! And both times she'd been evasive, employing her favourite diversionary tactics to try and deflect him. Didn't she realise he knew her too well to be taken in by those? And didn't she realise that the less she told him, the more vivid a picture his imagination painted about what might have gone on in here? He'd thought this trip was all about clearing the air - about honesty and trust. Instead, so far it seemed to have involved conflict, deceit, and mistrust. He could cope with Clark2 being dishonest, and he didn't know Lois2 well enough for it to matter either way, but it cut to the quick when Lois lied to him. They'd been through such a lot together, he and Lois, and he really thought they'd matured in their relationship over the last couple of years. Gone were the days when they'd face each other stonily over the breakfast things, as they had when Lois had become editor of the Planet and they had disagreed on just about everything. These days they talked things through, and almost never went to sleep before settling any arguments they'd had during the day. Okay, they'd been through a bit of a sticky patch lately, but even that had been settled through talking, not silence. "Talk to me, Lois," he muttered under his breath. "Sorry?" He twisted around on his chair to find her standing at the doorway into the lounge. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud." "I think the coast is clear. You can come back out here if you want." "Okay." In fact, as he followed Lois back into the lounge, Clark2 and Lois2 were just coming down the stairs, hand in hand. "Sorry we took so long," said Clark2. "I had a lot of making up to do with Lois." Clark considered replying, "Yes, we heard," but Lois got in before him. "Is that what you call it here? Over in our universe, we call it something else," she said sardonically. Clark2 frowned. "Sorry?" "Oh, nothing," she replied airily. "So, I guess it worked," she said, indicating their intertwined hands. "Your making out - sorry, making up, I mean." This time, Clark2 blushed, and Clark dug Lois surreptitiously in the ribs to tell her to shut up. "Yes, he made up to me very nicely," answered Lois2 with a sweet smile. "Didn't you, sweetheart?" she added, giving Clark2 a quick peck on the cheek. Reddening even more, he smiled back at her, and for an instant, Clark caught a glimpse of the chemistry between the two. Embarrassed though he obviously was by Lois's none-too-subtle digs, and his own girlfriend's reply, Clark2 still showed in his eyes and body language just how strongly he was bound to the woman beside him. Which was very good news, Clark thought, and made the mystery of whatever his wife and Clark2 had shared in the kitchen even more perplexing. "We've made a decision," said Clark2. "We'd decided to stay here tonight, and then we'll return to Metropolis tomorrow morning. You're more than welcome to come with us, of course - although, as you know, Clark, there's not a whole lot of room in my apartment for two couples." "I'm sure we could squeeze them in, Clark," said Lois2. "Your sofa converts into a double bed, doesn't it?" "Yes, it does," replied Clark2. "But I'm just trying to point out all the pros and cons, Lois." Or trying to put them off coming, wondered Clark as the four settled themselves into seats around the lounge. Clark2 hadn't given any indication that he felt any more welcoming toward them than when they'd first stepped through the front door, other than thawing his manner a little. Telepathically, too, he was still shutting Clark out; Clark couldn't even sense the other man's emotions, as he'd been able to do off and on the last time they'd been together. "We've had couples to stay in your apartment, haven't we, Clark?" said Lois, interrupting his thoughts. He nodded. "Yes, my parents stayed there a couple of times before we moved to Hyperion." "Okay, it's settled, then," said Lois2 with an air of finality. "You're coming with us - I mean, if you want to," she added as an afterthought. Clark smiled. "For a moment there, you sounded just like Lois. This Lois," he said, putting an arm around Lois's shoulders and squeezing her affectionately. "We'd love to come, wouldn't we, honey?" "Sure. I'd love to see how the place has changed since Perry became mayor." "Oh, it's changed a lot," said Clark2, nodding. "He's still got a lot of work to do, but he's already made a big difference. There's just one problem, though." "What's that?" asked Clark, now positive that Clark2 was finding reasons to leave them behind. "Well, how do we explain the fact that there's a couple living with us who look exactly like us?" "Ah." Fair point. "And don't forget I don't have your anonymity - especially not right now. There'll be reporters doorstepping the place all day long." Clark frowned. "Well, I guess as long as we're careful when and how we go in and out of the apartment-" "You know, we could be useful to you," interrupted Lois, leaning forward. "How so?" asked Clark2. "We could take your place," she said. "Say you get tired of answering their questions - well, we could take over for a spell and pretend to be you." Clark looked at his wife in surprise. She was seriously suggested that they - that Superman - should lie like that to the press and the general public? "Honey, I'm not sure that-" "Maybe they could help with trapping Lex," said Lois2 suddenly. "Huh?" said Clark2. "We could use the fact that they look just like us to trick him," she replied eagerly. "Trick him into what?" asked Clark2, echoing Clark's thoughts. "Trick him into admitting he tried to murder us, of course!" she said. "Wake up, Clark!" Clark2 gave his girlfriend a challenging look. "How?" Clark nodded. If he knew Lois...well, Lois2, she was improvising wildly, and didn't have a clue how to make her idea work. Beside him, Lois shifted impatiently. "She hasn't worked out the fine details yet, have you, Lois?" Lois2 jutted her chin out haughtily. "Exactly. The plan just needs a little fine tuning. Thank you, Lois." Clark2 rolled his eyes. "Fine tuning, my sweet-" "Chumpy," interrupted Clark quickly. "Your sweet chumpy." "My sweet...?" "It's one of Lois's words," he explained. "Look, it sounds like Lois could be on to something, but there's other ways we can help you with Lex Luthor. You could say we're experts on beating the guy." "Yes, we've done it twice," agreed Lois. "Twice?" said Lois2. "You mean you failed the first time?" "Well, he kind of failed himself," replied Lois. "He jumped off the top of his own building, and everyone thought he was dead - no doubt he thought so too. Except he wasn't." "Doesn't anyone die properly in your universe?" said Lois2 sardonically. Clark laughed. "Most people do. Lex Luthor was the exception, not the rule. But I mean it - we learnt a heck of a lot about the guy and the way he operates while we were trying to put him behind bars. Maybe we could give you a few pointers; tell you his weak spots, and so on." "Well, frankly, I'll take anything I can lay my hands on if it'll help nail the bastard," said Lois2 vehemently. Clark blinked at her strong language and the depth of emotion which went along with it. He also noticed how Clark2's arm slid protectively around her shoulders and squeezed slightly. Of course, Lois had said something about this Lois having spent some time as Lex Luthor's girlfriend, and there was that devastating confession of her supposed prostitution. He began to wonder just how badly she had been treated during her time with Luthor. Lois had obviously noticed, too. "We'll be glad to help any way we can, Lois," she said softly. Lois2 nodded. "Okay. Thank you." "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to phone my editor and try to explain to him what's going on and why we're not at work today," said Clark2, standing up. He grimaced. "Wish me luck." "I'm sure Jeff will understand," replied Clark. "He seemed like a pretty reasonable guy." "We'll see." He shrugged, and disappeared into the hall to make his phone call. ********* While Clark2 was out of the room, Clark raised the subject of names. "We've kind of established a tradition, you see," he explained to Lois2. "When your Clark is visiting our universe, we call him Clark2, and when I'm visiting this universe, he calls me CK." Lois2 nodded. "Makes sense. So what do I call you?" she said to Lois. "Ummm..." "Lo-Lo?" suggested CK with an impish smile. "Ha. Very funny," replied Lois. "No, you can call me Loisette. If you must. No, actually, I don't think I could stand that for more than five minutes...Clark, what should she call me?" "You want the cute answer, the jokey answer, or the polite answer?" he said. She appeared to consider. "Let me see...I'll take the polite answer, please." He shook his head. "No sense of adventure. Okay, how about Lois3?" "What happened to Lois2?" enquired Lois2. "Well, I'd already started to think of you as Lois2 - you know? Clark2, Lois2? So I migh