Fugue II: Fusion By Shayne Terry Rated: PG-13 Submitted: June 2001 Author's Note: I'd like to thank some of the best beta readers in the business. Wendy Richards, Dr. Klein's Labrat, Ann McBride, Jo March and Susanna (AnneOvena) gave their unflagging support, and they were quick to provide feedback, even when it wasn't convenient. I'd like to thank Labrat again for helping inspire this with her own story "Are you Lonesome Tonight". While I might have ended up with something entirely different, my inspiration began with that story. Jo March was there from the beginning, through the brainstorming sessions that eventually evolved into this story. I'd also like to thank the readers at Zoom's Message Boards. I've been overwhelmed by the warmth of their response to this story. Their support motivated me to write far more than I ever expected, and their comments were both eloquent and enthusiastic. No one could ask for a more dedicated group of beta readers. Rights to all recognizable characters in this story belong to DC Comics and Warner Brothers, and no infringement is intended by their use in this story. Other characters are mine. ____________________________ Memory was both a blessing and a curse. It had been nearly ten years since Clark Kent had visited his parents' farm and nearly twenty since he had lived there, but the place was still thick with memories. He landed silently in the midst of a pasture and began walking toward the barn. He could almost see his parents in the window of the house, his mother laughing gently at a comment his father had made. His parents had loved each other, they had loved him, and that was something that he'd held close to his heart during the dark days that had come later. He refused to look in the direction of the curve in the road leading to the house. The memories associated with that spot were too dark to contemplate. Today he wanted to remember the good things; he needed to remember his parents and the love they had given him. They'd taught him right from wrong, the responsibility of power, and a love for his fellow man. Their influence had given him the strength to get through his teenage years. He'd drifted from family to family without love or hope that things would ever get better. He'd been happy on the Kent farm; as time had gone on, that happiness had become an increasingly distant memory. The farm had become run down with the passage of time, like the memories he'd reached for less and less as time had gone on. It hurt to see the contrast between his life as it was, and what it had become. Clark wasn't sure when he'd started wanting to run from his life, but the urge had increased when he'd met the Lois Lane of another world. He'd settled for the minimal emotional support that Lana had been capable of offering, believing that it was all he could reasonably expect after life. After all, people like his parents came along once in a lifetime. He'd been lucky to know them for ten years. From the moment he'd met her, Lois Lane had turned his life upside down. He'd felt something for her that he'd never felt for anyone else, and even after she was gone he'd continued to feel a shadow of it. It was as though he could sense her across the boundaries of time and space; he could feel her in the distance. If the Lois Lane of his own world hadn't been dead, he might have ascribed another meaning to his feelings, but she was. He pushed the door to the barn open. It hadn't held animals for many years, but the faint scent of years past was still detectable, even by a human nose. To Clark's enhanced sense of smell, it seemed as strong as ever. Jonathan Kent had been a big man, and as a boy, Clark had felt that his father could do no wrong. As an adult, he knew better than to make his parents into saints; no person was perfect. He knew that his parents had been some of the best. The glimpse he'd had of the other Clark's parents had shown him a hint of what he'd missed, and it had been like a dagger to his soul. If meeting Lois had been hard, meeting them had been both a blessing and a curse. He'd spent much of his life feeling numb; it had been hard for him to deal with the emotions meeting his counterpart's parents had brought him. Yet he treasured the memories of that meeting, held them close to his heart. He'd had a glimpse of a better life, and he wasn't willing to lose that memory. It was frightening that he'd lost it all in the wake of the Nightfall asteroid. The memories of his parents, Lois, Lana... his whole identity. He'd lost every memory that had made him who he was. As far as he was concerned, he'd vanished as he left the atmosphere, and had reawakened in the middle of a battlefield in the Arizona desert. Clark allowed himself to float in the air until he reached the hayloft. The ladder had long ago succumbed to age and erosion, making the loft even more inaccessible than it had been when he was a child. He had often come here when he needed time to think and dream, when he needed to be alone. It was much smaller now than it had been then. Clark had to stoop a little as he stepped onto the loft. The wood groaned beneath his feet, and he was careful not to exert too much pressure. Some memories were fragile, and had to be handled carefully. Everything had seemed so unreal since he'd returned from the dead. The world had mourned his passing and gone on, and the media frenzy in the wake of his reappearance still hadn't died down. Clark had barely noticed the furor in the wake of the strange mood that had gripped him, but the strain was beginning to show on the faces of the people closest to him. He needed to overcome the sense of melancholy that had almost overwhelmed him since the first moment he had awakened. It felt as though he was in mourning, and he didn't know why. He hadn't had to perform a Superman rescue since he'd been back; the world was still in a celebratory mood in the wake of the Nightfall Asteroid. He wasn't sure how he'd feel about becoming active again. Everything was so confusing. Nothing was the same. The farm was smaller, more run down than he remembered it. His life was more confining than he'd ever realized. He was off balance, and the only thing he knew to do was start from the beginning, which was why he'd come home. He needed to find out what had happened during his fugue. The FBI agent who had found him in the middle of a battlefield had been extremely helpful in that regard. Jim Creed had taken him through the investigation step by step, and Clark had an abstract idea about what had occurred. Many questions remained. Why had an entire group of U.S. soldiers gone AWOL from the local military base, taking millions of dollars of military equipment and weaponry, all for the sole purpose of attacking an unknown drifter and his female companion? Who was Jane Alexander? The woman had a valid social security number, which had been applied for five years earlier, but there was no other record of her existence anywhere preceding that time. Very little was known about her except that she'd written three books and that someone had been looking for her. She was missing, and no one knew what had happened to her. Clark needed to know that he had protected her, even while he was confused. The thought that a woman might have died when he'd had the power to stop it was almost more than he could bear. Clark closed his eyes, and allowed himself to drift for a moment. Memories were a tricky thing. If he allowed himself to drift, he could almost smell the scent of his mother's apple pie and fried chicken set out on the kitchen counter. He could almost hear his parents laughing gently with each other. It almost seemed as though he could reach out and touch them. It took him a moment to realize that he really smelled apple pie and fried chicken, and that he was hearing the gentle sounds of laughter. He turned slightly and looked through the roof of the barn. A young couple was laying a picnic blanket out beside the creek three miles away. Clark grimaced. His parents had loved to spend time by the creek, and he'd loved being with them. He sighed. Although the couple had no way of knowing he was there, he knew he couldn't stay. Someone else owned the Kent farm now; it had been deserted for a long time, but he'd recently learned that it had been bought. He hoped the new owners were people who would restore the farm, not merely in the physical sense, but as a home filled with love. He glanced at the young couple once more and quickly averted his eyes. They seemed oblivious to the world around them, and that was how it should be. He allowed himself to float to the floor again, and he took one last look around. The house had already been moved into but the barn had been left the same as it was the day he'd left. It was empty, and yet it was a place thick with ghosts. Everything changed. Life was like that, and it was something one had to prepare for. Perhaps it was a sign. Winter was inevitably followed by spring, desolation was followed by renewal. If anyone had believed in the power of hope, it had been his parents. Everything changed, and sometimes the change was for the better. He slipped out the barn door, and carefully shut it. Looking around to see that no one was looking, he allowed himself to float into the sky. He spun in mid air into his outfit, and he was off. He'd waited long enough. It was time for him to retrace the steps that had led him to the Arizona desert. He'd had a curious sense of reluctance since the moment the idea had occurred to him, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Still, he allowed himself the luxury of flying slowly. It felt good to fly when there weren't any emergencies to take care of. The two years since he'd put on the suit had been filled with a constant need for the services of Superman. He'd been impressed in his visit to the other world. Even in the midst of Tempus inspired madness, the other Metropolis was lighter and more hopeful than his own. It was only in recent months that he'd seen things beginning to get better in his own city. Perry White had made changes for the better, and he liked to think that his own actions had helped as well. The world had needed a symbol, and he and Lois Lane had given them one in the form of Superman. The fact that things were improving worldwide had kept him from escaping to an island somewhere. He was making a real difference in the hearts and minds of people all over the globe, and he couldn't stop. His parents had taught him better. It didn't take long to reach the small town of Last Chance, Arizona, even at what he considered to be a leisurely speed. He'd memorized a map of the town before he'd set out on this trip, and so he knew where he needed to go. He landed in a vacant lot near the ruins of what had once been an adobe house. The walls were still standing, but the roof had collapsed inward, and the interior was blackened by fire. Everything had burned hot, leaving very little behind; what was left was barely recognizable. It was in a poorer section of town. A glance showed Clark that the area seemed deserted at this time of day. He quickly spun back into his normal clothing. While he could have flown in his normal clothing, he always did everything he could to separate the identity of Superman from that of Clark Kent. What small chances he had at a normal life lay in not being easily recognizable as Clark. Clark scanned for any signs of human remains. There weren't any. The place had been uninhabited when it had been burned. That it was an act of arson was clear; the fire had burned too hot for it to be anything else. Clark could smell slight traces of chemicals that were used by the military, designed to burn furiously when exposed to oxygen. He floated silently over the cracked and burned remains of the red tile roof that had collapsed to the floor. Clark wondered for a long moment whether he had caused Jane Alexander to lose her home. There had been reports of men claiming to be federal agents circulating through the town with her picture, but that didn't necessarily mean he hadn't been at fault somehow. Clark continued to look the area over carefully with his x-ray vision. It took almost a minute to find a compartment recessed deeply into the thick stone of the adobe wall. The contents were burned into ash, but Clark could smell the faint remnants of the ink used on American money. From the amount of ash that was left, he'd have guessed there to be a great deal of cash left behind. It took three more minutes of careful examination before he could admit to himself that there was nothing left to find. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to see if the area felt familiar. He was reluctantly forced to admit that it did not. He'd hoped that old, familiar places and familiar sights would help jog his memory. He sighed. He allowed himself to float until he reached the place where the door had once been. He stepped out onto the ground outside. He looked around, and it took him a moment to get his bearings related to the maps he'd seen of the town. He'd seen the town from overhead, of course. He began to walk quickly. It would take time to reach his next destination, but he wasn't averse to walking. He had all the time in the world, and he wasn't feeling rushed. It felt good to be alone, away from all the people who had expectations that he had to meet. According to the reports of FBI agent Jim Creed, there had been only one witness to the attack on Clark and Jane Alexander while they were eating at a Mexican restaurant. Apparently, he'd been having an early dinner with her when they were attacked. He wanted badly to know more about his relationship with Jane Alexander. He'd traveled with her, and there were reports that he had spent a night in a hotel with her, leaving only one bed unmade. Clark had never been the sort of person to share himself sexually without being in a committed relationship. In truth, his only experiences had been with Lana Lang, his former fianc‚. His therapist told him that increased sexual assertiveness during fugue states wasn't uncommon. He could have been making love to women all across the country and the odds were that he would never know. No matter how certain Jim Creed was that his investigations were complete, Clark knew that it was impossible to really say what had happened. He could have a child somewhere, conceived by a woman who wasn't aware of the possible consequences of an alien genetic code in their offspring. Of course, it was likely that he couldn't reproduce with a human woman even if he tried. His counterpart and the Lois Lane who was his wife still hadn't conceived the last time he had seen them. It took fifteen minutes to walk the distance to his destination, but Clark was satisfied. It felt good to be away from the press of the crowds. He'd been impressed by the energy of the big city, but he'd felt a little claustrophobic recently, with reporters crowding him from every direction when he went out in public. He turned a corner and walked along a series of storefronts. There wasn't much business at this time of day; many businesses were just barely opening. He quickly spotted the door he wanted and quickened his pace. He entered a dimly lit store, which was filled with an oddly familiar scent of spices and herbs. It was large for a small town bookstore, filled with shelves which sagged under the weight of all the books they carried. A bell tinkled as the door slowly closed behind him, and he heard the sounds of someone moving around in the back. A woman in her forties stepped out from the back of the store. She stopped in place and stared for a moment, gaping at him. Clark's heart sank. He'd hoped to be unrecognized in this part of the country. It would slow his investigation down if he were recognized. He was startled as the woman enveloped him in a tight hug. "Kade! You made it!" Clark remained motionless for a long moment, shocked into speechlessness. The woman released her tight hold on his neck, and pulled back, looking him in the eye. "I thought they got you for sure." She looked over his shoulder. "Where's Jane?" Clark froze for a moment. It hadn't occurred to him that Jessica Paxton had been anything more than a fellow restaurant patron who had witnessed a gun battle. Jim Creed's men had missed something. "We got separated," he said. Jessica sighed and shook her head. "I don't know what the world is coming to these days." She walked past him, and peered out the doorway. Apparently satisfied, she locked the door, and set a closed sign in the window. She gestured for him to follow her into the back. "When those government goons barged into the shop, I didn't know what to think. It reminded me of the bad old days, back when I went to school at Kent State. They didn't give a damn about our rights then either." She led him into a small back office. "It's funny. In those days, I would have protested in favor of gun control. These days I carry just like everyone else." She turned toward him. "Do you need money, weapons? When I see the government trying to assassinate American citizens, it really sticks in my craw." "You don't read the papers much, do you?" Jessica shook her head. "I don't even own a television, and I've been busy with the move. Your having to leave left me short handed." "So you don't know anything about what happens in the outside world?" "Oh, I hear people talking about things when they come into the shop. A lot of them are angry. The FBI came a few days after you left and tried to claim that the men who visited us weren't authentic agents." Jessica shook her head. "Everybody knows better. Men who work for the government tend to have a certain look about them... it's something in the training, I guess. The men who came into my shop had it in spades." "They had a picture of Jane Alexander... " Clark trailed off. Jim Creed's men had gotten as much from other storeowners in the area. Whoever had been after them had access to a great deal of manpower and equipment. "It was an old picture... Jane looked young, and her hair was shorter and straighter. I told you as much when I tried to warn you in the restaurant." Clark sighed. "I've been a little confused, and the events of a week ago are a little hazy." "Were you hurt?" Jessica looked concerned. Clark shook his head. "You heard about Superman turning up alive, didn't you?" Jessica nodded. "It's hard to believe anyone would want to kill him, after what he did for all of us. The poor man, wandering around the desert lost and confused. It's hard to believe he was so close... " Her voice trailed off, and she stared at him. Clark sighed and nodded. "I've been confused for a while, I guess." "I should have known... " Jessica sighed. "There were things about you that didn't add up, but... who could have known?" Clark smiled ruefully. With everyone believing Superman was dead, people would have tended to overlook all sorts of clues. "You worked for me for a couple of days, helping me move inventory from across the street to here." "Why didn't you tell any of this to the FBI when they interviewed you last week?" "I didn't have any more reason to trust them than I did the goons who showed up in the first place." Clark nodded and sighed. They were both silent for a long moment. Finally, Clark spoke. "What was I like?" He hated the plaintive note in his voice. Jessica frowned. "You don't remember any of it?" Clark shook his head mutely. She stared at him for a long moment, as though trying to see traces of the person she had once known in his face. She sighed. "You... were always polite. You didn't talk much, but you were a hard worker, and when you did speak you always had something important to say. You were really interested in Jane Alexander... the first time you came into my shop was to buy copies of her books." "So I seemed to be close to Miss Alexander." She smiled slightly, her expression a little bit sad. "You were on your first date when everything collapsed." It disturbed him to know that he'd been so close to a woman and yet could now remember nothing. He needed to find her, if only to assure himself that she was still alive. If anyone could answer his questions about the time he'd lost, she could. He frowned. "You've known Jane Alexander for a while, I gather?" She nodded. "About as well as anyone in this town, I guess, which is not much." "Do you think you could describe her face to me?" She nodded. "Sure. One of the FBI people asked if I could sit with a police artist, and I told them I couldn't... I didn't want to make it any easier for them to catch Jane." The people chasing Jane Alexander already had pictures. Clark felt irritated for a moment, but let it go. With any luck, he'd soon have what he needed. "Do you have any paper... and a pencil, maybe?" "I have the paper I use with my fax machine... I fax orders to customers... " Jessica allowed her voice to trail off, then she rose from her chair. She returned after a moment and smiled nervously at him as she handed him a small stack of fax paper and a pen. During his two years as Superman, Clark had seen police artists work many times. He'd taken mental notes, because while it was easy for him to sketch a drawing of someone's face from memory, it was harder to do without a mental picture. He carefully asked her about the shape of Jane Alexander's face, the look of her eyes and her nose, the curve of her lip and the line of her jaw and cheekbones. He was careful to sketch a number of different alternatives for her, creating pages filled with alternate types of noses and jaws and mouths. A professional police artist could have worked from the descriptions alone, but Clark was being cautious. When Jessica was finally satisfied that he had the pieces correct, he began to assemble them onto one sheet of paper, sketching at superhuman speed. As the picture began to form, he felt his stomach clench with realization. By the time the sketch was done, he was sure of it. Jane Alexander was Lois Lane. ********************* It was going to be harder to reach Clark Kent than she had originally thought. Reporters and paparazzi were camped out at the door to his apartment, and they also mobbed the entrance to the Daily Planet. Lois had no doubt that members of the group who were after her were posing as reporters, probably as members of the foreign press corps. Superman's return was a story of worldwide interest. She checked her reflection in the floor length windows at the base of the Galaxy Communications Building and nodded grimly. In her gray jumpsuit and matching cap, she looked very much like a repairwoman. She'd have to bluff her way inside, but the cap would keep her face out of the security cameras. Clark Kent had influential friends. Between Perry White, who was now the mayor of Metropolis, James Olson, a young software billionaire, and the staff of the Daily Planet, no one had spoken to Clark Kent since his return to Metropolis. Even during his one press conference, he'd looked distracted and terribly sad. Lois's heart had gone out to him. It was widely reported that his former fianc‚ Lana Lang hadn't even bothered trying to contact him, in spite of her position as a television news anchor. Calling him on the telephone was impossible; the Daily Planet was fielding all his calls. It would have been advisable under any circumstances. The odds that his telephones were tapped was high, and for Lois's plan to be successful, she had to contact him in secret. Lois dreaded looking into Kade's face and seeing a lack of recognition. Deep down, she hoped he'd know her when they met, but realistically she couldn't count on it. She didn't have any choice but to contact him; she was tired of spending her life on the run, and Clark Kent was the only person who could help her. The fact that she was in love with the person he had been complicated things. She had to remain firm; there was time to mourn later, and there was always the hope that he might be Kade in all but memory. She was tempted to find an out of the way part of town and simply yell for Superman until he came. It might be difficult to determine how far out she could be and still be heard, however. Furthermore, she ran the risk of attracting human predators, and if she was in a deserted part of town, she could get in trouble. If she chose a more inhabited part of town, she ran the risk that people might actually try to help. Inspired by the example set by Superman, entire communities had formed neighborhood watch groups. At the very least, the police would be called. Lois would keep it in mind as a last resort, but in the meantime, she needed to do a little research on Clark Kent. The more she knew about him, the easier it would be to find a place to contact him. She'd already begun the process, learning about his personal history, reviewing the news stories about his actions as Superman over the past 24 months, and finding out everything she could given the available resources. She needed more information, however, and the Galaxy building was the one place that could provide it. It was the building where Superman had been revealed to the world, and it held more footage of him at work than anywhere else. She took a deep breath and stepped inside the building. She walked toward the security desk, hoping that the nervousness she was feeling didn't show. It had been far too many years since she'd been on an undercover assignment, and she was out of practice. She'd spent too long as Jane Alexander; switching roles at the drop of a hat wasn't as natural as it had once been. "I'm here to... " "Running a little late, aren't you?" Lois felt like gaping at the security guard; instead she smiled and said, "You know how it is. The boss sends you off to do an hour's work in thirty minutes. Something's got to give." The guard scowled. "If you people would fix the copier right in the first place, we wouldn't have to keep calling you back." Lois shrugged and handed him her repair kit, which he opened. She passed through the metal detector, and she noticed the guard visibly relaxing. It was his job to take the weapons of people entering the building. Despite the fact that they were returned when people left, many people preferred to argue. He jerked his head toward the elevators. "Try to get it right this time." She stepped into the elevator, and as the doors closed, she sagged back against the wall in relief. She kept her cap low so the elevator security cameras wouldn't have a clear view of her face, but it still felt good to not be directly in someone's eye. Most people weren't aware of the security cameras and so the people behind the cameras were used to odd behavior. She felt the old familiar grief welling up from deep inside, and she grimaced. She had to stay focused on her goal; reflecting on what she had lost in Kade would lead inevitably to the other losses in her life, and she'd end up wasting a day weeping in her hotel room. She didn't have time for that. She'd deal with her pain later. First, she had to stay focused on what she was doing. It was a relief to finally be able to focus on her work; it was a coping mechanism she'd developed as a child. Rather than wear her heart on her sleeve, as Lucy had, she'd retreated into schoolwork, books, and her ambitions. It had worked, too, except for the silent times when her pain almost overwhelmed her. She'd been numb for a long time, and the pain she felt now seemed more intense in contrast. That was what she told herself anyway; it seemed impossible that ordinary people went through this sort of pain every day. Of course, ordinary people didn't get involved in government conspiracies. Lois would simply have to focus. The same focus that had gotten her off the battlefield in Arizona would help keep her alive now. She'd managed to drive the Ryder truck for over a mile, even with one wheel gone and all the other damage that had been done. A bullet must have nicked something in the engine, however, because the engine had quickly overheated. The battle had been easily visible from even that distance, and cars coming from the north had been pulling to the side of the road, pulling onto the lane divider and turning in the opposite direction. While some drivers had simply stopped to watch the action as though it were an air show, most had attempted to turn around. It hadn't taken Lois long to hitch a ride with one of the drivers. He'd found a route into Flagstaff, though it took almost three hours. The driver had dropped her off at a bus station. Lois had suspected that the enemy wouldn't still be searching when it was thought that she was found, and she'd been right. She'd worried about Kade not being able to find her, but she hadn't had a choice. He'd known her eventual destination, and he could have been waiting for her at the end of the line. In a better world he would have been. It hadn't even occurred to her to worry about him being hurt. Anyone capable of shattering an asteroid seventeen miles wide wouldn't be bothered by anything short of a nuclear weapon. The elevator door opened, and Lois stepped out into the hallway beyond. It was the work of a minute to walk down the hall and slip into the morgue. Lois had been inside the Galaxy building once before as a young reporter, and she was relieved to see that the format of the room hadn't changed. Row after row of videotapes sat on shelves. Lois was familiar with the layout from the summer she'd spent interning. Looking quickly to check that no one else was in the room, she quickly pulled a short list from her pocket. Checking the dates listed, she quickly began scanning the shelves. She wasn't as familiar with the system as she'd thought; it took her several minutes to find the tapes she was seeking. She knew that the odds of being caught increased the longer she stayed, but there wasn't any choice. She found the last of the tapes she needed just as she heard the door opening behind her. "What are you doing here?" Lois schooled her expression into impassiveness, and turned. The woman standing in the doorway was young, possibly in her early twenties. Lois's mind raced, then hit on a suitable explanation. "I'm here to repair the VCR." Lois gestured toward the VCR and television in the corner, and the woman nodded. The woman scanned the shelves, pulled a videotape out, and left the room. Lois knew she didn't have much time; she'd come during the lull between the noon edition and the prepping for the five o'clock programming; She had a half an hour window at best. She found a booth at the far end of the room with a VCR setup and quickly slipped the tape in. It didn't take long to find the segments she needed. As Superman, Clark Kent didn't seem much like the Kade she had known. His speeches were formal and a little stilted. He looked like someone who never relaxed. Even in the few video clips of Clark Kent as himself, he still seemed to be less relaxed than Kade had ever been. The look in his eyes was haunted, and Lois wondered what he could have lost that made him that way. He'd lost his fianc‚ and he'd lost his last chance at an ordinary life, but Lois had a gut feeling that it would take more than that to make such a man so desperately unhappy. She felt a flash of pity for him, and a larger one for Kade. It was strange. She was viewing the clips in reverse order, and the earlier footage showed a more relaxed, less unhappy Clark Kent. Perhaps it was merely the strain and the pressure after all. Lois was beginning to wonder why she'd bothered to come as she slipped the very first tape into the VCR. She'd seen that Clark Kent shared some mannerisms with Kade, but not as many as she'd hoped. She hadn't done much more than make her heart ache at the sight of a Kade she could not reach or touch. She'd seen still shots taken from the original camera footage; one shot had made the cover of Time magazine. Nevertheless, it was fascinating to watch Tempus ranting about the enemy. Seeing Clark Kent break through walls and tear down doors was unexpectedly exhilarating. She hadn't bothered watching much of the battle in Arizona; she'd been too busy escaping to gawk like the other bystanders. When Tempus pulled the glowing green rock and Clark collapsed, Lois nodded grimly. She'd found a few references to Kryptonite, and to the fact that no one had ever found the sample Tempus had used. It was stunning to watch a man who could practically move a moon collapse in pain. A woman in a pale suit rushed out to comfort Clark Kent, and when she turned her face toward the camera for an instant, Lois gasped. The woman in the shot looked exactly like her. The problem was that Lois hadn't been anywhere near Metropolis at that time, and she certainly didn't remember ever meeting Superman. The imposter's disguise was flawless. Lois watched the screen closely, but she couldn't see any major differences between herself and the woman on the screen other than in the hairstyle. Lois had never worn her hair that short, at least not until Kade had trimmed it as part of her disguise. Lois felt a dizzying sense of unreality. The disguise was so perfect that her own mother wouldn't have known the difference. The possibilities made Lois's head spin. If the government's plastic surgeons could duplicate people's appearances with such utter, frightening perfection, then no one could be trusted. Perry White might have been replaced at any point over the past five years. Even Lois's family members might be suspect. Other, weirder possibilities ran through her mind for a moment. They'd been doing some work with cloning in South America. It took Lois only a moment to dismiss the possibilities. The simplest solution was usually the correct one. The fact remained that an imposter had taken Lois's place for some indeterminate amount of time. Was it possible that Lois Lane had never turned up missing? When Lois had gone underground, had a "Lois Lane" returned from the Congo to resume her activities? Lois felt shaken. If someone had taken over her life, even her family might not have missed her. She'd be literally outside the law. An ugly suspicion rose. She'd taken Kade at face value. He'd supposedly met her only by chance and he'd left her the same way. She now had evidence that he knew her doppelganger, and she couldn't help but wonder. He could have easily been faking his memory loss, and if that was the case, then he had intentionally left her behind. If he knew her duplicate, then presumably he had some contact with the enemy. She'd moved forward on the assumption that he didn't remember her, but she'd worried from the very beginning that he'd meant to leave her. It had been a nagging worry at the back of her mind from the very beginning; now it was a concern that she could not ignore. Still, if he'd been working for them, she'd be dead now. He could have delivered her to the enemy at any point, or if he couldn't stomach that, he could have told them where she planned on heading. Either way, she wouldn't be running free. If he'd had some sort of change of heart, that meant that he could be reached and turned against them. Lois hated the idea that she had to distrust the man she'd fallen in love with. Her trust in him had been precious, one safe harbor to head for in a lifetime of stormy seas. The idea that she had to return to trusting no one made her miserable. Her research hadn't uncovered anybody in Clark Kent's life that could be used against him. His parents were dead, as was his aunt, Opal Kent, and one uncle on his mother's side. He had no living kin from his adopted family, and he was, of course the last Kryptonian alive. He hadn't spoken to Lana Lang in two years, and there wasn't any evidence that he'd ever had any other romantic entanglements. His only close friendships seemed to be with Perry White and James Olson. It was terribly sad, really. She'd lived her life in exile, but she'd always had the hope that she might one day return to the arms of people who loved her. That option didn't exist for him. He was utterly, unbearably alone. Even if he'd betrayed her, he didn't deserve that. Lois felt a wave of sadness wash over her once again. It wasn't surprising that he'd wanted to escape the life that penned him in. He was born to fly free, and yet he was trapped in a life he'd never wanted for himself. Lois watched numbly as her duplicate picked up the green rock and threw it into the audience. Clark Kent swallowed the bomb, and history was made. The imposter was either quick thinking, or she had previous experience with the rock. Either way, Lois couldn't help but wonder about her history with Clark Kent. She'd have to be cautious in dealing with him until she could find that out. It looked like he wouldn't have any trouble in recognizing her at least. Even if his time as Kade had been completely honest, Clark Kent would know her. Lois hoped desperately that her time with Kade had been real. She'd had far too much betrayal to take any more. As the screen went blank she sighed. She still didn't have any choice but to contact Superman, but she'd have to be much more cautious once she did. She heard voices from outside in the hallway. She quickly shut the television off, and slipped the tape out of the VCR. She moved quickly to replace the tape, and as the door opened, she pretended to be placing her tools into her toolbox. She'd dropped to one knee behind the VCR cubicle. She wasn't immediately visible from the door, and hopefully anyone entering the room wouldn't see her. If they did see her, she could pretend to be finishing up with a repair on the VCR. She suppressed a gasp as she saw a newly familiar figure step into the room, followed by a man she didn't recognize. She'd seen numerous pictures of Lana Lang during her researches, mostly from the months directly after Clark Kent had revealed his secret to the world. From all reports, Lana hadn't enjoyed the media frenzy which had taken over her life, despite the fact that she was herself a news reporter. "Your country needs you, Ms Lang." "I'm not interested." Lana Lang had a high pitched, whiny voice, one that Lois instantly disliked. "All you would have to do would be to renew your acquaintance with him." "What makes you think he'd even be interested after all this time? It's been almost two years." The gentleman in the suit carefully shut the door behind him. "He's at a vulnerable point in his life right now. He needs a lifeline, someone to reel him back into reality." Lois peered over the edge of the desk. Lana was standing with one hand on her hip. The man facing her was nondescript except for his expensive Armani suit. "I burned my bridges with him a long time ago." Lana scowled and shook her head. "It would be in your best interests to start re-building those bridges, and quickly." The man's voice had become low and dangerous. Lana didn't seem perturbed, but Lois felt a chill go up her spine. "I've spent the last two years refusing to capitalize on this. I've refused movie producers, tabloid reporters, even my own producers. I've refused an interview with Barbara Walters. What makes you think you'll be any different." The man reached into his pocket, and Lois tensed. Despite the security guard downstairs, it was possible that the man was armed. He pulled something from his pocket. Lois couldn't make out what it was. For the first time she noticed the sheer size of the man's hands. They were very large and muscular, the sort of hands that could have completely enveloped her throat and easily choked the life out of her. He handed it to Lana. She heard Lana gasp, and for the first time she saw that it was a photograph. "The nursing home you have your mother in really isn't very secure." The man's voice was nonchalant, but the threat was obvious. "It's really too bad about the accident she had last year; brain damage often leads to sudden, unexplained death." Lana didn't speak for a long moment. "Is that meant to be a threat?" "It means whatever you think it means, Ms Lang." "I meant a great deal to Clark once. I think he'd be happy to help me protect her." "Can he be there twenty four hours a day?" The man's voice was cool. He casually popped his knuckles, and the sound was loud in the quiet confines of the room. "How long do you think it takes to kill someone anyway?" The room was silent and Lois peered over the edge of the desk once more. Lana was silently looking at the photograph. "I really did love Clark." Lana sighed. "Why do you want me to watch him, anyway?" "We're just worried about his mental health. With his recent amnesia, we're worried that he may become unpredictable." "You can't be trying to tell me that you are worried about his health." Lana's voice was flat, with just a trace of sarcasm. The man smiled coldly and said, "Your former boyfriend is the most powerful being on the planet. His mental state is a matter of national security." "If you really work for the government, then why the threats?" The man reached out and patted Lana on the arm. "We really wouldn't want you to have second thoughts and talk to your boyfriend about all of this. Who knows what sort of an effect it would have on his mental state? He could become a danger to everyone." He paused. "Making this into a news story would be even worse of course. I shudder to think of what could happen." Lana took a step back. "If I agree, how will I get in touch with you?" "We'll contact you when we need you." "Is there anything I'm looking for in particular?" The man hesitated. "Would you know how to identify this woman by sight?" Lois peered over the edge of the desk again. She could see Lana stiffen. "Lois Lane? She's the reason everything fell apart in the first place. Of course I would know her." "She's wanted for murder. If you see her, don't say anything to Clark. Call the police immediately." Lana nodded silently as Lois fumed. They'd been altering records, adding up a list of false offenses in an effort to make her capture seem legitimate. It was much easier to let the Metropolis Police Department do all the work, and simply collect her from jail. Lois heard the door open and the sounds of footsteps retreating down the hallway. She peered over the edge of the desk one last time and saw Lana standing silently in the middle of the room. It must have started like that for Claude too. Lois felt strangely relieved in the wake of the conversation. If the enemy was wanting to keep an eye on Clark Kent, that meant they did not trust him. Either he had been working for them, and betrayed their arrangement by letting Lois go, or he had really lost his memory. Either way, Lois could work with him. She waited until Lana finally left the room before rising and heading out of the building. It would be easy to find out if a Lois Lane had been writing articles for the Daily Planet over the past five years. It didn't seem likely, if Lois Lane was being sought out as a terrorist. Lois didn't know what was going on, but she was determined to find out. ********************* Jim Creed walked quickly down the corridor with his partner. "How could this happen?" "There was a mix up in the orders; the men were being transported to the federal prison." "No one thought it was important to keep them separated until the interrogations were over?" His partner shrugged. "Obviously someone wasn't doing much thinking." Jim scowled. Out of the forty men they had captured in the attack on Superman, only seven officers had been indicted. The others had been lied to, told that they were stopping a truckload of terrorists coming from across the Mexican border. Three of the officers had committed suicide in their cells, all on the same night. Now the other four seemed to have been killed in a gang attack as their prison transport went through a dangerous section of Metropolis. "None of them survived?" His partner shook his head. "It was an armored transport, but someone hit it with a shoulder mounted missile. They shot any survivors." "Since when do we send prison transports driving through Suicide Slum in the middle of the night?" Jim scowled as they turned a corner. "And how long has it been since street gangs had access to shoulder-mounted anti-tank missiles? I thought we were doing a better job than that of controlling the big weapons." "We are." Frank frowned. "It looks like the orders came from up high, but I haven't been able to track them down." Jim stopped, turning to stare at his partner. "It shouldn't be that hard to track down a set of orders." They supposedly came from Assistant Director Kirkland's office, but he's been on vacation for the last week or so. We're trying to see if there is some way the orders could have been faked from outside the FBI, but it isn't looking promising." "So we're talking about a conspiracy." Jim's voice dropped. Frank nodded. "Someone didn't want those people to talk." Jim shook his head. "I was getting so close. I would have had them in another day or two." Frank put his hand on Jim's arm. "There isn't anything we can do about it tonight." His voice had an odd pleading note to it, and Jim stared at his partner for a long moment. "Someone is cleaning house on this, and if we don't move quickly, we're going to lose any chance of catching up with these people." Frank lowered his voice. "Whoever we're looking for was able to suborn seven officers in the United States Army. They obviously have a great deal of influence if they can reach prisoners under federal protection." "They have people on the inside." Jim frowned. "I'm not willing to believe that they have half the FBI in their payroll. One or two rogue agents maybe... " "They don't need half the FBI; a few people in key positions could take care of everything." Jim stared at his partner. "All we need to do is find out who they would have needed to use to cover all this up. Once we got one of them to talk... " "Who says we'd get that chance?" Frank laughed mirthlessly. "It wouldn't be difficult for them to arrange a small accident for the both of us, and if they really have much influence, the investigation afterwards would be a joke." "The FBI takes the murder of its agents very seriously. I can't believe that there wouldn't be a full and fair investigation." "That may be so, but I've got three kids who like it when their daddy comes home." Jim was quiet for a moment. "So we keep it quiet. Just you, me and a few other people." "How do you know who to trust?" "You have to trust someone." Jim sighed. "I'm going to bring Clark Kent in on this. He has a vested interest in finding out who attacked him." "He's been pretty fragile since he came back from Arizona, Jim." "We've just been treating him that way." Jim looked impatiently at his watch. "He probably won't be up for another four hours; that'll give me time to find out exactly how this all happened." "I still don't think this is a very good idea. Why don't you just go home, and we can start again in the morning." The pleading note in Frank's voice had grown stronger, but Jim barely noticed. "Go home if you want, Frank. I've got work to do." Jim's voice was distracted as his mind ran over lists of people who had access to Assistant Director Kirkland's office, and who might have been in a position to move the prisoners. As he turned, he missed the look of abject sorrow on his partner's face. "Good bye, Jim." ********************* He landed silently on his balcony at the last rays of the setting sun as it sank beneath the horizon. He was both stunned and confused by what he had learned, and elation and depression fought an unseen war within his soul. The Lois Lane of his world was alive... or at least she had been. Somehow, beyond all probabilities, he'd been drawn to her when he'd been lost and confused. He'd found her in the midst of a country of three hundred million people. His counterpart had spoken to him once, talked about their shared Kryptonian heritage. It had been difficult for Clark to believe that he was to some degree telepathic, though that helped explain his ease in picking up foreign languages. Now he didn't know what to think. He didn't believe in destiny; he'd decided long ago that life was about choices. People created their own futures by their own actions. He'd fallen in love with Lois Lane almost from the moment he'd met her. The fact that she was engaged to be married hadn't mattered nearly as much as it should; his own engagement had paled into insignificance. His life had changed in a fundamental way from the moment he'd met her, and somewhere deep inside he'd known that being with her was right. She'd broken his heart when she'd left him, and seeing her once again had been pure torture. She'd been lost without her husband; his need to comfort her had roused feelings he'd tried to leave behind. He'd been lonely for a long time, and when he was with her, he was no longer alone. He exhaled softly, taking one last look at the twilight sky before turning to walk inside his apartment. It was amazing how much a life could change in the short time between sunrise and sunset. Years of expectations could be toppled in the space of an instant. He'd known that his Lois Lane was dead, but he'd tried to find her nonetheless. He'd hoped to bring closure to the pain suffered by Perry White and by her family members. He'd met them once or twice over the past two years, and they'd been grateful for his efforts in trying to find her. It was stunning. He'd never allowed himself to even entertain the hope that she might be alive. The world wouldn't be that kind. Somehow, Clark had always had the feeling that good things happened to other people. Other people had parents who not only loved them, but who survived into old age. Other people had friends and people to love. Other people had a feeling of belonging, and a hedge against the darkness. Discovering that Lois Lane was alive and unmarried opened a world of possibilities that hadn't existed before. It was as though he'd had a glimpse of heaven and just as he'd believed it eternally denied to him discovered that the gates were indeed opened. The thought that she might be dead already, especially if it was because of his own inaction was a glimpse of hell. He had found her beyond all odds, and the idea that he would not only lose her, but that he would never even remember her was almost more than he could bear. His apartment was dim, lit only by the darkening twilight outside. An ordinary person would have found the place wreathed in shadows, too dark to see much more than the outline of objects. Clark however had no difficulty in making his way across the room. He stopped abruptly and sniffed. Of all his enhanced senses, his sense of smell was both the weakest, and the least used. The scent of ten million human bodies, one million cats and one million dogs, along with the emissions from seven hundred thousand automobiles and trucks, seven petroleum burning power plants, and the countless chemical residues from the thousands of products which were the hallmark of civilization ordinarily conspired to knock his sense of smell out of commission against all but the most distinctive odors. It was a good thing, ordinarily. If his sense of smell didn't adjust, even the scent of the perfumes, hair sprays and other products people used would have maddened him. However, he'd just spent hours in the desert, drinking in the sweet, simple scent of sand, and dirt and sagebrush. His nose had cleansed itself of the impurities of civilization as he'd looked at the gouges and scars that had been left in the earth in the wake of his battle. Only the last vestiges of the acrid smell of cordite and gunpowder had remained, and they'd blown away with the hot desert wind. He'd spent hours looking for the remains of one small body lost in the desert. He'd been fearful of finding her, and elated when he could not. There was a spare simplicity in the desert; it had been the first time he'd been alone since reawakening, and it had felt strangely freeing. He'd allowed himself to stop thinking for the first time in ages. He'd lived his life in a numb void before Lois Lane had found him, but as Superman, he'd been forced to take the weight of the world on his shoulders. If he hadn't been able to worry about himself, he could always worry about others, and the pressure had grown as time had passed. The moment he'd realized that he wasn't going to find her body, he'd let it all go. For a short time he'd stopped thinking about anything. It had felt cleansing; he'd opened his senses to the world and it was as if he'd become one with everything. So his nose was freer than it had been in years. Clark had guarded his privacy fiercely once he'd become Superman; he'd been forced to. He hadn't had any guests in the past two years. The scent of Lana's perfume had faded to almost nothing; all that was left was the faint scent of his own body, a scent that would have been undetectable by the ordinary human nose. Today was different. He could detect a pair of strange new scents in the room; the familiar musk of human bodies, and the sharper scents of shampoo, cologne and hairspray. The smells had already begun to fade; it had been several hours since intruders had been in his home. He sighed. It took only three seconds to remove the assorted bugs, listening devices and cameras from his home. It was the fifth time the media had tried something like this in the two years since he had become Superman, and it never failed to anger him. It felt like a violation, having people enter his home uninvited, and at times he fantasized about building a home in some out of the way, inaccessible location. He'd never taken that step. If he felt disconnected already from the rest of humanity as it was, removing himself to some lofty fortress above the world would have alienated him completely. He frowned. The place had been bugged far more expertly than it had been the times before. There were actually a couple that he'd almost missed. The sheer number of the bugs was amazing; it was as though they'd hoped to make him miss one through simple fatigue. He stared down at the small pile in front of him. He examined a piece at random. It didn't look like any bug he'd had experience with; it looked very expensive. Someone had spent a great deal of money bugging his place. Of course, any hint of scandal would be worth a great deal to a news agency. In the wake of the Nightfall asteroid and his seeming resurrection the story would be worth even more. However, Clark knew the nature of the news. He would be replaced as the lead story in a short time. All he had to do was hold out until the next big story came along, and then the media coverage would return to a normal level. He frowned down at the pile, then slowly smiled. At least two of the bugs were still transmitting. He looked around quickly then grinned. Perry had talked him into going to a Superbowl game last year; it had felt good to be anonymous until someone in the camera booth had recognized him and projected his image up on the scoreboard. Still, he'd picked up the ubiquitous giant fuzzy hand, and one other thing. He scanned the room for a moment, then found the air horn lying in a drawer in the corner. He grabbed it quickly, moved it next to the listening devices, then activated it. The horn emitted a long, piercing shriek, and Clark grinned. He didn't hear the sounds of anyone cursing, so the system was either automated or extremely remote. He tended to scan any unmarked vans on his street as a matter of course. Presumably the people who were trying to watch him knew that. It took only a moment to crush most of the devices to powder. He kept one of the more unusual cameras and one of the listening devices to show to Jim Creed. Clark couldn't help but feel that the devices were too sophisticated for the average media group, and he wanted a second opinion. He placed both bugs into a small lead box he'd acquired just in case the small chunk of Kryptonite was ever found. He scanned the apartment one last time, then closed the box. He sagged. The day had been filled with one shock after another, and he was unbearably tired. He dropped onto his couch and lay on his side. Even as he closed his eyes, his mind focused on a thousand worries. It was becoming more and more obvious that Lois Lane had known she was being pursued, and that was why she had gone into hiding. Whoever was chasing her had a great deal of influence, and was probably involved with the government somehow. Lois Lane had obviously become an expert at hiding, and in all likelihood he would never even know whether she was alive or dead. If he only had some way of contacting her, of making her believe that she could trust him. He thought once again about his counterpart, and about the suggestion that he was at least partially telepathic. He closed his eyes and tried to reach out to Lois Lane. In his imagination, he could sense a sea of emotion, the myriad thoughts and feelings of ten million people as they went about their business. It was impossible to find any single soul in the midst of all that; it was all he could do to keep from being washed away. Eventually he slept. She was standing by the window, her silhouette shadowed even to his eyes. She was so beautiful that it made his heart ache. He stood, unashamed of his own nakedness and moved silently across the room. He kissed the nape of her neck, and she moved for the first time. She was even more beautiful than the first time he'd seen her; he was blinded to all other women. She made him feel emotions that he'd never felt before, and he was overwhelmed. He was grateful that he'd had a chance to know her, even for a short time. Destiny was sometimes kind. She leaned back against him, and he kissed her again. He didn't speak; what was between them transcended words. When he was with her, he was free to simply feel. Being with her was like flying; it was an experience that rose above all the petty problems of life, one that shattered the shackles of gravity. When he was with her, it was joy. She twisted in his arms until they were facing one another, and she kissed him. There was passion in that kiss, but there was also the taste of tears. He pulled back and spoke for the first time. "What's wrong?" "This is all so perfect. I wish it could last forever." Something within him knew that their time was limited, and he wanted to cry out, but instead he simply kissed her, then said, "Don't worry about the future." He knew that time was precious, that every moment counted. He studied her face, willing the image to be burned into his memory for all time. For him, she was the most beautiful woman in all the world and this time was more precious than gold. He pulled her towards the bed and for a moment she seemed reluctant. She wanted to talk, and somehow he knew that it would spoil the perfection of the moment. For once he was at peace with himself and the world. Her resistance was only a token however. She smiled ruefully as she followed him to the bed. She'd stunned him with her passion and fire already, and he could see the desire rising in her eyes yet again. As they came to rest on the bed, he looked into her eyes. It felt as though he could get lost in them, as though they were crystal windows into the depths of her soul. He knew beyond any doubt that she was the woman he'd been waiting for his entire life, the woman he was meant to find. They fit perfectly together, like pieces of a puzzle that had been left incomplete and was only now finding the purpose it had been designed for. It wasn't merely a union of the body; it was one of the soul. She wept; he could taste the tears on her cheek as he kissed her once again. He knew instinctively that these were tears both of happiness and of sorrow. She loved him, and yet she doubted him. He vowed in that moment that he would never leave her. His love for her was the one true thing he knew in all the world, and he wasn't about to forsake her. No matter what they faced, they'd face it together. He clung to her in the aftermath, stunned beyond words. When he was with her, he was a better person. He was the person he'd always wanted to be. Together, it felt like there was nothing they could not accomplish. She nestled into his arms finally, and he could tell that she was half asleep. "I love you, Kade." Clark gasped as he woke up. His body was soaked with sweat, and it took him a moment to realize that the ceiling was only a few inches from his nose. He almost fell, but quickly caught himself. It had all seemed so real. He felt a sense of loss so extreme that it was like a blow to the stomach. He'd thought he loved the Lois Lane of another world, but that emotion paled in comparison to what he felt for the woman in his dream. He'd wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and he'd been willing to do it on her terms. He hadn't questioned, and he hadn't thought, and for the first time in his life, he'd allowed himself to feel. When he'd been with her, he'd been free. It took him a moment to become alert enough to sink slowly back down to the couch. It took another moment to realize what had awakened him. The phone in his bedroom was ringing. His phone number was unlisted, given out only to a very few people who needed to know. He was tempted to let it continue to ring, but he knew that he couldn't. He picked up the receiver and simply listened. "Clark?" It was a voice he hadn't expected to hear. He hadn't spoken to Lana Lang in almost two years, and he hadn't expected to hear from her ever again. He'd shown up for her father's funeral after her parents had been in an accident, but she hadn't spoken to him at all. He caught his breath and finally spoke. "Lana?" "Clark... I never thanked you for coming to the funeral." "Your parents were good to me, even when we were kids." Clark sighed. He wondered whether Lana's bosses had finally made her an offer she couldn't refuse. He knew that she'd used most of her family fortune in caring for her mother. She'd sold the house and most of the property, and the money had been dwindling for quite some time. If she needed an interview, he'd give it to her. They'd been friends who never should have become lovers. He'd responded to her neediness as though it was love, and he'd craved love badly. With the perspective of time, he knew that they'd been bad together. She'd been his friend since the time she was in pigtails; in truth, she'd been his only real friend when he was a child. She'd convinced her parents to take him in for six weeks when things had gotten too bad with one of the foster families. "After everything he did for me, I couldn't stay away." His father had made sure that he was placed with a stable family, and later on he'd taken an interest in Clark's academic career. The man had been arrogant and abrupt, but deep down, he'd had a kind streak. He'd been a good person despite his flaws, and his daughter was just like him. "Do you think we could get some coffee and talk?" Clark was silent for a long moment, then he sighed. He didn't want to give an interview to anyone, but that didn't change the facts. He owed her. "All right. Where?" She gave him the location of a coffee shop nearby. "Do I need to dress up for the camera crew?" He couldn't help the slightly bitter tone in his voice. He heard the sound of her indrawn breath.. She was silent for a long moment. "I'll be alone." "I'll be right there." He set the receiver back in its cradle, then looked down at himself consideringly. It took less than thirty seconds to take a quick shower and get dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt. He wouldn't put it past Lana to lie about the camera crew, and he wanted to be presentable. He left quickly, flying in the night sky. He was so preoccupied that he didn't hear the sound of his phone ringing once again. The flight to the small coffee shop didn't take more than a moment, but Clark landed silently in the shadow of a broken street light half a block away and walked the remaining distance. Lana's voice had sounded a little strained on the telephone. At first he'd assumed it was the simple embarrassment at asking him a favor after all this time. Lana had held out for almost two years against overwhelming pressure from her bosses and from other media figures, and he respected her for that. For her to finally give in was an indication that something was wrong in her life. Clark scanned the surrounding area on the off chance that a camera crew was waiting for him. Lana hadn't been the sort of person who would lie; she'd always been almost annoyingly open in her thoughts. Nevertheless, people changed. If he were to face a camera crew, he wanted to be prepared. There was no one unusual in sight; a bum lying in a nearby alley, a couple of young lovers taking a stroll, and the haggard patrons of the coffee shop. Lana had chosen well. The shop was close to his apartment, but it wasn't the closest, or even the second closest. Those shops were occupied by the few die hard reporters who were still watching his apartment. Lana was well known enough that her presence would have aroused questions. She obviously had no intention of giving anyone else the scoop. Lana was sitting in a booth by the window, and she looked utterly dejected. Clark slipped into the diner and moved quickly to her booth. She was staring at the table, frozen. He called her name and it took her several moments to respond. "Lana?" She looked up finally, and she tried to smile, but it was a ghastly thing. She looked as though she'd been crying. He slid into the booth across from her. "What's wrong, Lana?" "Did you ever think that we might have made a mistake?" "A mistake?" Clark had an uncomfortable feeling that she wasn't going to ask for an interview. "We were together for a long time, Clark. If things had been different, we'd be married today." Clark shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He'd just discovered that his Lois Lane was alive. He had no intentions in resuming a relationship that had been harmful not only for him, but for Lana as well. He didn't look forward to letting her down though. "Lana... " She took his hand in hers and said, "Please, hear me out." Her expression was pleading. It took him a moment to realize that she'd slipped a piece of paper into his hand. His curiosity was immediately aroused. He scanned the paper, then stiffened. * I'm bugged. Don't say anything. Please play along. * He looked up at her, his expression startled. She nodded almost imperceptibly. "All right, Lana. I'll listen to what you have to say." The waitress delivered two large cups of coffee. Lana pulled her hands out of his, taking the paper and slipping it into her pocket as the waitress set the steaming mug in front of her. She sipped her coffee, and Clark followed suit. "You remembered how I like it, " he said, pleasantly surprised. "I remember a lot of things, Clark." Her voice was as husky as Lana could make it, but her eyes told a different story. They were terrified. Clark scanned her quickly. He was familiar with her body, but under normal circumstances, he would never have looked. They were no longer together, and he didn't have the right. She'd given her implicit permission, however, and he needed to know whether she was actually bugged or not. His mouth set into a grim line as he saw the small device taped to her collarbone. It was similar in design to the devices he'd found in his apartment, and that made him deeply suspicious. She also had a polaroid of her mother in her pocket. The picture made her mother look like a dead woman, even to the point of crossing her arms on her chest. "We've been together since we were children, Clark. You can't throw away fifteen years just because of one mistake." "We weren't together for all of that time, Lana." "So you took a few years off and barely called. That's all this last couple of years has been, really. Just another sabbatical." "You were the one who gave me the ultimatum, Lana. You forced me to choose between you and the world." "I was wrong." Lana looked at him pleadingly. It was easy for Clark to guess what had happened. Someone had threatened her mother as a way of forcing her to get close to him. They were listening in, so Lana had to make the meeting sound as realistic as possible. Still, there was something in the tone of her voice that said that it wasn't all a lie. Lana sighed. "You were my best friend for years before we ever became more. I never realized how important that was to me until you left... . until I pushed you away." "All you had to do was ask for my help, Lana. We've always been friends as far as I'm concerned." She smiled for the first time. "You were always too good for me, Clark." Clark pulled a napkin from the dispenser, and as Lana sipped her coffee, he set to work. Using his heat vision at its lowest setting, he charred a message into the thin paper. He turned it toward her, and she glanced at it. * Do you want me to check on your mother? * She shook her head slightly, then glanced around. Clark looked back, and saw that the waitress was staring at both of them. "I think the waitress knows who I am," Clark said quietly. Lana shook her head. "It's more likely that she recognizes me from the news." Her expression was suspicious though. Clark could see how it would be easy to become paranoid. Whoever had bugged his home and threatened Lana undoubtedly had many resources; if they'd told her which coffee shop to come to, the waitress could easily be a plant. Of course, they were both famous people, so there could easily be a more normal explanation. "Would you like to go somewhere else?" Lana shook her head. "I have to get back to the office soon. I was just wondering whether you'd like to go to the symphony with me on Friday?" Clark opened his mouth to speak, and Lana rushed in. "I know the symphony isn't your favorite, but I'm meeting friends there, and we're all going to dinner afterward." The look in her eyes was pleading, and he sighed. "All right. I'll go with you just this once." She tossed a five dollar bill down and slid out of the booth. She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, Clark. Thanks for everything." Clark nodded soberly. He'd check on Lana's mother from a distance. If there were bugs in her room, he'd have to do some thinking. It was obvious that more was involved than he had realized. Whatever Lois Lane had become involved in, someone was willing to go to great lengths to find her. For a moment he allowed the thought to cheer him. If they'd already killed her, there wouldn't be any reason to keep an eye on him. However, it was possible that they were worried that she'd told him something. It was also possible that they were simply a lunatic fringe group with many resources. Most Americans seemed to regard him as a hero, but there were always conspiracy theorists. He'd heard of one group that thought he'd pushed the asteroid onto a collision course with Earth just so that he could save it. They thought that he was a front runner for an alien invasion, out to cozy the world into complacency. Ironically, it was possible that there was an alien invasion planned. His counterpart had warned him about New Kryptonians, about Nor and Zara. The thought of being already married had been almost pleasant at the time, and he'd been watching the skies for any signs. It hadn't happened though, and there was no guarantee that it would ever happen. Clark's world was different in many ways from that of his counterpart; nothing was certain. The New Kryptonians could have resolved their war on their own terms. Their colony could have been destroyed by some sort of disaster. They could simply have lost the knowledge that the son of the house of El had been sent to Earth. Or perhaps the Kryptonian space program had been scuttled by an officious bean counter that never realized that he was dooming his race to extinction. Clark hoped that there were other people like him out there somewhere, but there was no way to be certain. He preferred to believe that they had survived because if they hadn't, then that made him truly alone in the universe. He had more immediate problems to worry about at the moment. He thought for a moment, then decided that it might be a good idea to follow Lana. If she had a meeting with the people who were threatening her, then he might be able to get to the bottom of things a little more quickly. He slipped out of the booth and headed for the door, ignoring the waitress who was still staring at him. He'd already decided that she wasn't an agent; an agent wouldn't be nearly so obvious. It was one thing he disliked about living in Metropolis. Far too many people recognized him. At least in other cities he could steal moments of anonymity. He stepped outside. It wouldn't be long until the sun rose; he could already hear the sounds of thousands of early risers beginning to awaken. He enjoyed the early morning; it was the one time that he could live in the city and not be overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of activity. The first signs of light were beginning to show in the sky, and he decided to head for the alley he'd seen before. He didn't like to change into his suit in front of everyone, and flying as Clark Kent was even worse. He stepped into the alleyway and was about to launch himself in the air when he heard a rustling sound from deeper within the darkness. The bum he'd seen before was moving, rising to his feet. "She's going to betray you, you know." Clark didn't know what shocked him more - what the bum had said, or the voice. The voice sent tremors down his spine. It was a familiar voice, a voice from his dreams, and it wasn't one he'd expected to hear again any time soon. She stepped forward into the light, pulling the stocking cap from her head. Despite the short blonde hair which was revealed, and despite the makeup job intended to make it look as though she had a three day growth of beard, Clark would have known her anywhere. Lois Lane spoke again. "I knew if I followed her long enough she'd lead me directly to you." ********************* Jim scowled as he set the telephone back into its cradle. He'd hoped to contact Clark Kent to warn him about the information he'd already discovered. It had taken him all night, but he was now fairly certain that it would have taken the work of multiple people in positions of authority to arrange for the deaths of so many men. He had leads and people who needed to be questioned, but he had an obligation to warn Clark Kent. He'd already been attacked once, and it was known that a rare mineral existed which could kill him. If anyone could acquire such a mineral, it would be people with widespread government access. If they intended to harm him, they might have a legitimate chance. He needed to get some sleep. He tended to get sloppy and make mistakes when he skipped nights of rest, and on this case, he really couldn't afford it. He regretted the fact that Frank was dragging his heels, but he could understand it. Frank had a family to think of, and this case looked to be dangerous in a number of ways. Jim locked his office and headed for the elevators leading down to the parking garage. At six in the morning the place was deserted, but it wouldn't be long before agents began filling the halls. He sighed as he stepped into the elevator. He suspected that he hadn't made any friends by calling people in the middle of the night, but he'd known that time was of the essence. Assistant Director Kirkland in particular was very concerned by the idea that his office was being used for nefarious purposes. The elevator door opened and he stepped out into the parking lot. The first thing he noticed was that the garage was unnaturally dark. The area around the elevator was well lit, but entire sections of the garage were wreathed in darkness. Jim scowled. The lights had been working fine when he'd come to work; fuses must have blown. The garage was absolutely deserted. As Jim headed for his car, he could hear his own footsteps echoing hollowly. He headed quickly for his car, which was in one of the sections wreathed in darkness. It was surprising just how dim an underground garage could get. As he moved into the shadows, the shapes of the cars around him became shrouded in darkness. Most were government issue, assigned to agents as they needed them, but there were a few private vehicles mixed in. It was dark enough that Jim was afraid he'd have trouble identifying his vehicle, especially as it was a model similar to the vehicles surrounding it. He pulled keys from his pocket, and fumbled for the small flashlight he used as a keychain. He clicked the flashlight, and a beam of light flashed out into the shadows. Jim barely had time to realize that his light was shining into a face crouched down beside his car when he heard the sound of a shot ringing out. It was somewhat muffled, but even with a silencer the report sounded obscenely loud. He dove to the side. If his light hadn't momentarily blinded his attacker, he'd have been hit almost certainly. The dim light from behind him would have made his silhouette a perfect target. As he fell to the ground between two cars, he scrambled for his weapon. The tire next to his head exploded as his assailant fired wildly underneath the car. Jim knew that he was in trouble, and he scrambled to one knee as quickly as he could. It was impossible to know which direction his assailant would come from in the darkness, and his head snapped back and forth. At only a few feet apart, it would be difficult for either of them to miss, and if there was a second attacker, Jim was dead. He was still, and it took him a moment to realize that he could hear the sound of footsteps receding into the distance. He stood up in a crouch, and some instinct made him move quickly to the left. The window of his car shattered, and he began to move quickly in a crouching run. If he moved back in the direction of the light, he'd make a perfect target. If he moved back into the darkness, he'd be stumbling over his own feet. He heard the sound of a car coming from the level below, followed by the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. Jim crouched where he was. He saw the lights of the vehicle, and it took him a moment to recognize his partner's car, which slowed to a stop behind his car. Checking in all directions, Jim moved quickly towards his partner's car and pulled the passenger door open. He scrambled into the seat. "Hurry up and drive!" "What's going on?" His partner turned to stare at him, startled. His face was almost white. "Someone just shot at me!" "Here?" Jim didn't like the way his partner refused to look him in the eyes. He wasn't as startled as he should have been. With recent upgrades in security, no one should have been able to get into the parking lot of any FBI branch office, not unless they were insiders. His voice was curt as he stared at his partner. "Just drive." ********************* Lois watched Clark Kent warily. She'd gambled everything on the idea that he wasn't working willingly with her enemies. She'd left herself completely vulnerable; if he wanted to capture or harm her, no gun would be able to stop him. It was a risk that she had to take; without him she'd be forced to go on the run again. Spending the rest of her life in fear was no longer an option. It was a risk she needed to take for another reason as well. She'd developed feelings for Kade that she'd never experienced before. If any possibility existed that she could get him back, she had to try. Nevertheless, she was tense as he stared at her. It took him a long moment to regain his composure, and as she waited for him to speak, she studied his face. He was as handsome as ever, and mixed with the fear in her stomach was a strange excitement at seeing him again. He was as motionless as a statue, and Lois began to feel uncomfortable. It was possible that Lana Lang had been under surveillance; and if that was so, she was in danger of being discovered. The longer they stood there the more likely they were to be found. "I think we need to talk," she said quietly. "I can take you back to my apartment... " He stepped forward, and his voice was suddenly eager. Lois shook her head. "There will be people watching it, and I can't afford to be seen with you." He stopped, his expression one of hurt and confusion. Lois felt something within her relax. He wasn't out to do her any intentional harm. If anything, he seemed more vulnerable than she was. "I'll explain everything if you can just get me out of here without being seen." "You don't know how long I've been waiting to meet you." His voice was slightly more reserved this time. He looked behind him, then seemed to be staring at the walls and rooftops to either side of them. "There isn't anyone watching right now, but the sun is about to rise, and so that's going to change quickly." He stepped toward her, and Lois couldn't help but flinch as he came near. "I'm going to have to carry you," he said. She nodded warily. He bent down slightly and picked her up in his arms. He smiled at her for the first time, and she was almost dazzled. It felt good to be held by him; he smelled just like Kade had, and his touch made her skin tingle. "Don't worry, Lois. I'm not going to drop you." He smiled at her reassuringly. Lois opened her mouth to reply, then repressed a shriek as they were both suddenly airborne. She clung to him tightly in a sudden panic, her face pressed into the nape of his neck. She could feel his satisfied chuckle, and she stiffened in outrage. Lois Lane wasn't afraid of anyone or anything, or at least there had been a time when that was true. If she were going to reclaim her life, she needed to reclaim who she had been. She forced herself to relax her grip on him and turn to look. She fought her sudden burst of fear and vertigo; and as it faded, she was amazed. The city was beautiful by night. Although the sky was beginning to lighten, the skyscrapers were lit with the light of a thousand twinkling jewels. The city sights moved by rapidly, yet it felt as though they weren't moving at all as they passed between towering monoliths. Lois felt a sense of wonder. This was what it was like to fly, free at last from the constraints of gravity and of the world. There was a wonder in flying that she'd never realized existed. It wasn't like being in a plane; here she was surrounded by nothing but the open air and the arms of a man she cared for. It was terrifying yet exciting on a deep, visceral level. The city was left behind them, and the world began to flash by beneath them at a dizzying speed. For the first time she felt wind in her face, but it wasn't nearly the killing force she should have been experiencing. They left the rising sun behind them, and the sky returned to a star-filled darkness. For the first time in her life, Lois was speechless. She was overwhelmed, awed, and utterly moved; and as she tightened her grip again, she allowed herself to imagine that she was in the arms of someone other than a stranger. Kade had loved her, and she allowed herself to fantasize that he would once again. It seemed like they had been flying for only a short time before they began to slow and descend. The moon had already set, but there was no sign of sun in the sky. Lois could see the dim outline of water below them; they passed silently over a wide river and landed quietly in a darkened section of the shore. Even at this hour of the morning she could hear the sounds of passing riverboats. The river was wide and slow moving, and she could barely made out the lights on the other side. "Where are we?" He looked slightly embarrassed. "You didn't want to be seen in Metropolis, and a mountaintop somewhere would be fairly chilly at this time of the year. I doubt anyone is looking for you in New Orleans, especially at this time of the morning." "Why New Orleans? Why not Chicago, or Los Angeles? "The Caf‚ Du Monde has these great little beignets, and the caf‚ au lait isn't bad either. It's open all night long, and the people down here don't know me on sight like they would up in Metropolis or New York." They started walking along the shoreline. "It must be inconvenient, being so easily recognized." He smiled ruefully. "I used to wear glasses as a disguise. I gave it up eventually; it never seemed to fool anybody, and I never seemed to get the knack of keeping them from falling out when I go flying." "No one seemed to recognize Kade." He stopped walking for a moment, then shrugged. "People see what they expect to see. Superman was dead. When you see a whacked out lunatic in the street who bears a passing resemblance to Robert Redford, you don't assume that he's really him." "It wasn't like that. HE wasn't like that." She looked closely at him. "You don't remember anything at all?" She was startled to see that he was blushing. "I have nightmares sometimes, dreams that I can't be sure are memories or just bits and pieces that my imagination has conjured." He shook his head, avoiding her eyes. Under her steady gaze, his blush deepened. "But we aren't here to talk about me. You've been in trouble for a while, and you need my help." "How much do you know about all of that?" "I know that it probably has something to do with the time you spent in the Congo, and that there is some sort of conspiracy involved. For them to send out as much artillery as they did, they must want you pretty bad. Yet in spite of that, they didn't bring any charges against you until I became involved." "What have they accused me of?" "Felony theft of an automobile, the murder of a federal agent... Forrester, I think his name was, and terrorism." Lois grimaced. "They have the influence to make those charges stick, too, even if they have to manufacture every piece of evidence from scratch." "You don't seem to have much faith in the justice system." "If you'd seen the things I have, you wouldn't trust it either." Lois shook her head. "I tried going to the authorities as soon as I got back to America." "What happened?" "They tried to have me killed. The man I spoke with was working for them, and when he put me into 'protective custody', I barely got out alive." It had been a terrifying experience, a time in her life that Lois did not like to think about. "So who are they? If they want you dead so badly, you must have some idea about what they are doing." Lois lowered her voice. "I don't know nearly as much as they think I do. I personally witnessed the murder of a DEA agent and three other people; and I saw weapons being shipped illegally from Metropolis Harbor to Porto Alegre, Brazil, and from there to Pointe Noire on the African coast. I have strong reason to believe that our own government is involved, but I have no real proof." They were approaching an area lit by streetlights up ahead, but Clark Kent's face was shadowed in darkness. Lois squinted, trying to get a feel for his reaction to what she'd said. "It doesn't sound like you have enough information to really hurt them. You know what you saw, but it'd be hard to prove." His voice was carefully noncommittal. "So you ran." She could hear a note of censure in his voice, as though he'd expected something different from her. She felt a ridiculous urge to defend her own actions. "I ran. I have a sister and parents who love me, and I let them think I was dead for five long years. I did what I had to do." She shuddered at a distant memory. "If you only knew what they were capable of... " "So you ran to Arizona, took on an assumed name, and started writing conspiracy novels." "I had to protect the people that I love!" Lois found that her voice was a little sharper than she'd intended. "If it had just been me, I'd have taken the risk in a minute. I was famous for not looking before I leaped back then." They reached the edge of the lit area, and Clark Kent stopped. "I'm sorry. You did what you have to do. It's just... when I look at you, it's hard not to get a little confused." "You get me mixed up with the woman from the tape." "What tape?" Lois refused to look at him. "Your debut. A woman helped you swallow that bomb... a woman who looked just like me. You aren't the only one who is confused." Lois hadn't intended to ask him so quickly. She'd hoped to get his promise of help before pressing the issue, but something within her refused to let the question die. He sighed. "The explanation for that is going to be a little hard to believe." "Harder to believe than the idea that a man can fly?" "Yes." He seemed to be searching for the words, and Lois waited patiently. She shivered when a cold night breeze came off the water. "We'd better keep moving," Clark said quietly. They began walking, and Clark hesitated before speaking again. "Have you ever wondered what might have happened if you'd made different choices in your life?" Lois gave him a sharp look, and said, "I've already explained why I've done what I've done." "Life is about choices, and sometimes it's the simple ones that can change the course of your whole life." Clark's head snapped around, and he seemed to be listening for something for a moment. Finally he relaxed. "You choose to drive to work in one direction instead of another, and maybe you have an accident, or maybe you stumble into the person you are meant to spend the rest of your life with, or maybe you go the other way, and neither of those things happen." Lois nodded quietly. Clark gently led her to the right, and they silently crossed a set of streetcar tracks. "I've been wondering what might have happened if I'd decided to come to Metropolis a couple of years earlier. I've been wondering that for a long time. We might have met, worked together... become partners... " Lois grimaced. "You barely know me. I met you for the very first time two weeks ago, and if you are telling the truth about having amnesia, you've only known me for a few hours." "It seems like I've known you for a lot longer." "You were telling me about the imposter?" He sighed. "A woman claiming to be Lois Lane forced her way into my life two years ago. She knew everything about me, about where I came from and what I could do. She told me a wild story, and somehow she convinced me to go public with my abilities." "What sort of wild story?" He laughed uncomfortably. "She was traveling with an older British gentleman. She claimed that they both came from another world." "Like you?" He shook his head. "The man she was traveling with claimed to be H.G. Wells." "The dead writer." Lois couldn't help the flat tone in her voice. "That's what I thought too. I thought she was crazy, but she knew everything about me... things I'd never told anyone but Lana." Lois wondered how much they'd had to give Lana Lang to betray all his secrets. It would have taken a lot of effort to surgically alter someone, but they could have done it. If it gave them some sort of hold on the most powerful man on earth, it would have been worth it. She was surprised that they'd used her face, though. It was widely known that she was dead. Perhaps they'd begun to suspect that she was still alive and had meant to flush her out. "I've already told you that Lana can't be trusted." He shook his head, looking stubborn and angry at the same time. "She claimed to be from another Metropolis, one where different choices had been made." Lois sighed. "I know how much you'd like to believe that. What did she tell you? That your parents were still alive in this other world?" He nodded. "We all wish we could go back and undo things... make things better. But you can never go back, Clark. We have to deal with the world as it is. We're stuck with the choices we've made." "I've been there." His voice was quiet. "It really is a different world." Lois was silent for a long moment. Either she chose to believe him, or she didn't. He seemed sincere, but it was possible that he hadn't been in his right mind. It would be easy to dismiss his claims as being the result of a disturbed mind, but Lois had seen the tape of herself in places she'd never been. She decided that she wouldn't argue for the moment. She'd reserve judgment until later. She could see lights and hear the buzz of a crowd coming from a block ahead. A large green and white striped awning covered an outside patio which she could already see was half full. She glanced up at Clark and something in his expression shocked her. "You fell for her, didn't you?" He shook his head and refused to look her in the eyes. "I wasn't free to do that." "Why not?" "She was already involved with someone else." She could tell from his tone of voice that he didn't want to discuss the issue anymore. It embarrassed him, and she could see the traces of old pain in his eyes. She could barely contain her curiosity. She'd gotten married to someone else? She wondered if he'd hoped to use her as a replacement for the other Lois Lane, and she felt vaguely insulted. He seemed to have trouble distinguishing her from her counterpart, but that was something she could understand. It took everything she had to look at him and not see Kade standing there; but the more time she spent with him, the easier it became. Kade had been more confident and quicker witted. He'd spoken less and listened more. The person she was standing with now seemed much more vulnerable and less happy with himself and the world. They reached the edge of the covered patio. Even at five thirty in the morning, the tables were half full. Most of the patrons seemed to be half-drunken tourists; many were speaking loudly and laughing uproariously. The smells coming from inside were enticing however. The tourists ignored the chill in the air. In the distance, Lois could see a large statue at the forefront of a well-manicured lawn. A towering church cathedral loomed in the distance. Lois had seen pictures of Jackson Square, and she knew that the streets would later be filled with horse drawn carriages as well as vehicular traffic. At this time of the morning, however, traffic was sparse to nonexistent. Lois shivered again. The Kade she'd known was gone, and she didn't know if she'd ever get him back. Clark smiled at her. "You'll feel better when you get out of the wind." He led her under the awning and toward the entrance of the Caf‚ Du Monde. "We've got a lot to talk about," Lois said. He hadn't agreed to help her, but she felt sure that he would. There were plans to be laid and things to be done. He wasn't Kade, but she'd known better than to hope for that, and he had the power to help. For the first time, she allowed herself to believe that she might actually have a chance to change things. The idea that she might actually be able to see her family again, that she might resume her life was almost more than she could bear. She had to remain focused on the problem at hand. It would be easy to become distracted by inconsequential things, such as the devastating resemblance of the man beside her to Kade. She was a professional and was more than capable of ignoring such petty distractions. He ushered her inside without a word. Lois stepped into the Caf‚ Du Monde, and her stomach immediately began to rumble in response to the smell of coffee and sweets. She'd been busy following Lana Lang for most of the day before and hadn't had a chance to eat anything better than a hotdog from a street vendor. That had been twelve hours before. The interior wasn't fancy. The building was old, possibly very old, and fans on the high ceiling whirled lazily, pushing hot air back down to the patrons. The warmth of the interior was a welcome change from the bone chilling cold of the past few hours. The overcoat, blanket and ski cap she'd bought from the homeless man had been thin and hadn't offered much protection from the winter winds in Metropolis. Her skin crawled when she slipped into them, but she'd done worse things in her efforts to escape her pursuers. There was something about adversity that destroyed the minor qualms of life. Lois stood for a moment, soaking in the heat. Even at six in the morning half the tables were filled, and she could only imagine what it was like at rush hour. Most of the patrons seemed to be tourists with hangovers; the locals were busy reading newspapers and sipping coffee. She felt Clark Kent step into the room behind her, and he slipped past her, obviously uncomfortable with their close proximity. He'd been careful to keep his distance from her except while they were flying, and she was grateful for that. It was hard enough to look at him and feel an echo of the attraction she felt for Kade. To feel his hand on her arm or to smell his familiar scent would have brought up memories of a night she couldn't afford to think about. She needed a clear head. There was time to worry about love after her family was safe. It was as simple as that. "Just find a seat. I'll go up and order." "I'll have my coffee black." It had been quite some time since Lois had slept as well, and in the heat of the caf‚, she was beginning to feel a little drowsy. Caffeine would give her the energy she needed to make plans. Clark hesitated. "The coffee here is a little stronger than what you might be used to, Lois." Lois shook her head. "I like my coffee strong." He looked at her for a long moment, then shrugged. Lois scanned the room, and found an isolated table in the corner. Despite the temperature, many of the tourists were seated out on the covered patio, where they could get a good view of Jackson Square. That left the inside mostly to the locals, who were busy minding their own business. Lois took her seat. The tables didn't have tablecloths, but she hadn't really expected that they would. The whole place had a feeling of age. The building was at least a century old, and it could have easily been twice that. Lois slipped her coat off. She'd left the blanket lying on the alley back in Metropolis, and as she pulled the cap off she wondered if her hair looked terrible. She was tempted to slip off to the bathroom to freshen up, but Clark was already returning with two large, steaming cups of coffee. "They're going to make the beignets up fresh for us." Lois nodded. He didn't say anything about her hair, and Lois was grateful for that. He'd been engaged for several years, and it showed. He'd obviously learned the value of tact. He handed her the cup of coffee, and he seemed to be waiting expectantly. He wasn't looking at her hair and Lois was puzzled as to just what he was waiting for. She took a sip of her coffee and almost gagged. She saw the amused expression on his face and she scowled. He'd been waiting for her to react to the coffee. She quickly composed her features and took another sip. "What sort of coffee did you say this was?" He grinned. "It's a dark roast coffee mixed with chicory." "Chicory?" He nodded. "I spent some time down here when I was traveling the world, and I once heard a tourist call it 'evil incarnate'." "You knew I'd react this way and you let me drink it." "Well, you wanted some strong coffee... " He smiled and quickly switched her coffee with his. "It's sort of a tradition around here to watch the expressions on tourists' faces when they insist on having strong coffee." Lois stiffened. "I am not a tourist!" She sipped the second cup of coffee cautiously and gave him a surprised smile. "This is actually good!" "It's the caf‚ Du Monde's version of Caf‚ au lait. It's what happens when you dilute the coffee you were just drinking with an equal amount of milk." He sipped the undiluted coffee, then stared at the cup speculatively. "You develop a taste for this stuff if you drink it this way long enough." "Trying to impress the locals?" "I was trying to fit in." He frowned, staring at the table. "It didn't really work, but it left me with the occasional craving for this sort of coffee." Lois sipped her caf‚ au lait again, reveling in the feeling of warmth that was spreading through her body. "Did you spend a lot of time trying to fit in?" Lois had an image of a lonely little boy, an orphan who had lost two sets of parents and didn't have a family to call his own. It was a heartbreaking thought. He nodded. "It wasn't easy. I was bounced around a lot as a kid, so I never developed any real friendships other than Lana. When I traveled the world, I couldn't stay at any one place for very long for fear that people would begin to suspect what I was." "I'm sorry about what happened to your parents." Clark nodded. "There wasn't anything anyone could have done. It's just one of those things that happen to people." Most people weren't twice orphaned. Clark had lost not merely two sets of parents, but also an entire world full of beings like him. If anyone was alone in the world, he was. They sat together for a long moment sipping coffee. "I know what it's like to be alone," Lois said carefully. "I lost my family when I had to run, and I don't even know if they are still alive." "They're alive," Clark said. "How do you know?" "After the other Lois left, I looked for you." "As a substitute for her." Lois's tone was flat. He frowned. "I thought you might be a lot like her. When I was with her, I felt alive. I liked who I was when I was with her, and I hoped I could find that again." "It's nice to know that we are so easily replaceable." He shook his head. "It wasn't like that. She's a married woman... untouchable." "So you decided to go for second best." The entire subject irritated her. When he looked at her, he saw another woman entirely. Lois had never liked coming in second in anything. He flushed slightly. "She told me that what I felt for her was a pale shadow of what I was meant to feel for you." "Why would she say something like that?" "Maybe she believed in destiny." Lois stared at him for a moment, her mind working quickly. "Let me guess. My counterpart was married to yours." He nodded, carefully avoiding her eyes. If it was all true, it would explain a great number of things. It explained how her counterpart had known Clark Kent's secrets when no one else had. It explained why she would have gone to him, and it would explain his unnatural attraction for her. "Destiny is overrated; the future is what you make of it." Lois shook her head. "That was a different world where different choices were made. Don't make the mistake of assuming that it means anything here." "It means that the possibility exists... " "The possibility is always there when you get two single people of the opposite sex together. Just because you feel attracted to someone doesn't mean that you have to give in to it." Kade would have asked if that meant she was attracted to him. Lois found herself waiting for the question. She was mildly disappointed at his silence. She glanced up at him and was surprised to see a small hurt look on his face. She sighed. "I'm not saying that there aren't possibilities. I'm just saying that we have more important things to worry about right now." After a moment, he nodded. "When was the last time you checked up on my family?" "I always hoped there might be a chance that you'd come back to them, so I made a habit of checking in with them every few months." "They didn't think that it was odd that Superman was interested in a five-year- old missing person's case?" "I told them that Perry White had asked me to look into the disappearance." "I thought Superman wasn't supposed to lie." He looked slightly embarrassed. "I could hardly tell them the real reason that I was interested. Perry did ask me to find you, you know. I just didn't tell them everything." They were both silent for a long, uncomfortable moment before Lois spoke again. In a quieter voice, she asked, "Are they all right?" "Your father is busy trying to build cyborg soldiers for the government. He seems happy with his work, and while he's had a number of girlfriends over the past few years, he hasn't married any of them. Your sister seems quite happy about that." Lois felt relieved. If anyone would never change, it was her father. They hadn't gotten along for years, but she loved him. "Your sister seems to be adjusting to suburban life." "Suburban life?" "She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and the last thing I heard, they were hoping to have a baby." "We're talking about my sister, Lucy Lane?" Lois couldn't help the tone of disbelief in her voice. "Lucy March now. She married a screenwriter named Joseph March three years ago." Lois relaxed. "So they're living from paycheck to paycheck while she takes odd jobs to make ends meet." Clark looked at her strangely. "Her husband is actually fairly successful. Lucy recently went back to college hoping to get a degree in social work." Lois shook her head. "It'll never last. Lucy was never able to stick with one thing in her life." "She seems like a serious young woman to me." Clark sipped his coffee. "I think your disappearance made her re-evaluate her life." Lois wasn't sure how she felt about that. It would be a good thing for Lucy to finally take things seriously, but she couldn't help but wonder if she'd even know her own sister. People weren't supposed to change. "What about my mother?" "She had a hard time after you disappeared. She won't talk about that time much, and neither will anyone else." Lois wasn't surprised. Her mother had never dealt well with stress. Seeking solace in a bottle had always been easier than facing her children. She hoped that things hadn't gotten too bad, of course, but if her mother was up and around then things couldn't have gotten too much out of control. Clark grimaced. "She's been mourning your death for the last five years." "She always knew how to milk a situation and make it all about her." Clark stiffened. "There isn't one of them that doesn't think about you every day. You didn't see how grateful they were to have Superman's help. They were so eager for any news, for the meager hope that you might be alive. Don't make the mistake of thinking that this didn't matter to them. In a way, they've kept their lives on hold for the past five years." "This hasn't been easy for me either." He frowned. "I know why you did what you did, and I understand. But I also know what it's like to lose your family... it's a pain that you never really recover from. You may tell people that it doesn't matter, that it was a long time ago, but deep down there are wounds that never really heal." Despite the temperature, he drank the remaining half of his coffee in one long gulp. "When I went to the other world, I had a chance to see what my parents would have grown into. It hurt more than I could imagine to see them, but in retrospect it was an incredible gift. For the first time, I had a chance to actually say goodbye. I got to hug them, and if they weren't really my parents, they were close enough that it didn't matter." He looked up as a waitress arrived. She set two plates in front of them. Each had three large square pastries. Each pastry was covered with a mound of powdered sugar. She heard Clark ask for another cup of black chicory coffee. The beignets were fresh. She touched one with her finger experimentally and jerked it back. They were steaming hot. She looked for a good place to cut one with a fork. Clark grinned at her. "You may as well give up. There isn't any way to eat these and remain neat." Lois tried, but she quickly discovered that the powdered sugar found its way onto everything. Giving up, she took her first bite. She smiled in delight, and Clark smiled with her. "I knew New Orleans was renowned for its food, but I hadn't realized that it was this good." The waitress returned with his coffee quickly and they both ate in silence, enjoying the taste of the beignets and the coffee. Lois found that she could only eat one; the dough seemed to swell in her stomach leaving her fuller than she could have imagined being. Clark was quick to appropriate her beignets, finishing with a speed that was almost superhuman. "Most people just get an order of three for a whole table, but since I don't have to worry about counting calories... " "You like to rub things in, don't you." Lois frowned at him. "It's a good thing I mostly stopped worrying about what I ate years ago." He lifted a questioning eyebrow. "It's hard to worry about your health when you don't expect to live six more months." Lois shook her head and sipped the last of her caf‚ au lait. "I decided a long time ago that food was one of the pleasures in life, and that life was too short to deny yourself." She made the mistake of looking up. He was leaning forward, and for a moment she thought he was going to make a suggestion like Kade would have, something filled with innuendo. Her mind flashed back involuntarily to their one night together, and she blushed. Strangely enough, he seemed to be blushing as well, and an instant later he looked away. Despite her irritation with his confusion about her identity, she was confused as well. She'd fallen in love with a silent drifter, and here was a man who shared his body and yet was not the same man. She was attracted to him, and she couldn't be sure which of his personalities she was drawn to. The best thing to do would be to get to business. The light of dawn was arriving already, and traffic was picking up on the road outside. "We should really come up with a plan." Clark nodded. He was staring at her in a disconcerting way, so Lois rushed on. "We can't be seen together." Lois hesitated, then spoke in a rush. "If they found out you were working with me, they'd kill my family." That got his attention. He straightened up slightly. "Are you sure about that?" She nodded. "Until I can be sure my family is totally safe, I can't be involved where I might get caught." "So I'm on my own?" She shook her head. "We're going to have to work together on this one. I'm just not sure how it will work. "They bugged my apartment." "I'm not surprised. They really seem to like that sort of thing. They aren't afraid of using blackmail to get what they want." "I've already got a friend in the FBI looking into things. With his help, and Lana's... " Lois shook her head. "I don't know your friend in the FBI, but there are two possibilities. Either he can't be trusted, or he can. If he can, then his life is in danger every moment he picks through things he shouldn't. As for your girlfriend... " "She let me know that she was bugged. I think she can be trusted." Lois shook her head. The man would trust anybody. "I know the name of the man who betrayed me in the FBI. It should be possible to track them down either through his contact with them, or from the money trails coming from the arms sales." "That's assuming that the arms sales are still going on. If they've already put a dictator in power then there should be no need for any more arms sales." "One thing you need to know about people, Clark. When it comes to power and money, there is never enough to satisfy anyone. If they have the Congo wrapped up, there are still countries like Rwanda and the other surrounding areas that are ripe for rebellions and all sorts of other business." He looked as though he wanted to protest, but Lois spoke firmly. "We have enough to go on, Clark. We don't need anyone else." He looked as though he wanted to argue, and Lois suspected that he wasn't going to let it go. Clark's face took on a stubborn, set look, and Lois knew he wouldn't be easy to convince. "Look, your friend works for the government, and there isn't any way to know whether he's been compromised or not. Lana Lang has been threatened. Even if she is helping you now, how long until the pressure gets to her?" "I think I know Lana better than that." Clark looked uncomfortable. "She may have her flaws, but disloyalty isn't one of them." "You are asking her to put her loyalty to you over her loyalty to her own mother." Clark shook his head. "Lana knows that these sorts of people can't be trusted." Lois leaned forward. "They can be trusted to carry out their threats." She hesitated, then spoke in a softer voice. "I've seen what they do to the families of people who betray them." "Your family will be safe. I'll make sure of it." "Can you be in three places at once?" Lois's voice was grim. "I'm sure you have no trouble sniffing out things like car bombs, but you have to be there to do it... or at least I assume you do." He nodded, then said, "We can move them to a safe location." "For how long?" Lois shook her head. "I know my family, and they won't put up with that sort of disruption in their lives for very long." Clark frowned. "None of them are tied to nine to five jobs, really. Your sister's husband can write his screenplays just about anywhere. Your mother is retired; she can put her charities on hold for a while." "My father won't want to leave his work, and my mother won't accept being cooped up for long. As for Lucy... it doesn't sound like I know her well enough anymore to make a real prediction." "So what do you want us to do?" Lois could sympathize with the look of frustration on Clark's face. She'd been dealing with the same frustrations for the last five years as she tried to formulate various plans of attack. "As far as people looking for me are concerned, it has to look as though I've vanished again." "Is that what you want to do?" Lois shook her head. "I've been looking over my shoulder for far too long, but for the moment they need to believe that." Clark nodded slowly, then said, "We still need Jim Creed's help. He has government clearance and he has contacts who might be able to help us find out what we need." "And if he works for the enemy?" "You worry a lot about people betraying you." "Our situations are completely different," Lois said. "A bullet in the back of the head will kill me, and I have three family members who are essentially being held hostage in return for my silence." "Why haven't they threatened your family before?" "The threat doesn't do any good unless I learn of it." "They could simply kill your entire family out of hand." Lois shook her head. "If they did that, I wouldn't have anything to lose." She allowed herself to look grim. "People without anything to lose are unpredictable and dangerous." "You've said yourself that you don't have any proof." "They can't be sure how much I know, or how much proof I might have. The fact that they've been looking for me for so long suggests that they think I know more than I do." Clark grimaced. "What information you do have is five years old. If anything has happened to the agent who betrayed you, and if they've stopped selling arms now that a new regime is in power, then all our leads will have dried up. We need Jim Creed and we need Lana Lang." Lois sighed, pushing her empty cup of caf‚ au lait to one side. "I can understand why you might think we need the help of this FBI agent, but what could Lana possibly do for us?" "I've made a date to attend a concert with her on Friday. The music should play havoc with their attempts to listen in, and they'll probably want to contact her to find out what we said. All I have to do is follow her after the concert, and then follow the messenger back to wherever he reports to. Even if he just calls in, I'll be able to listen in, and maybe get some phone numbers." Lois's mind sped through a number of possibilities before she nodded slowly. "You'll have to be careful that they don't notice that you are missing... I'd be careful about the people in the seats around you as well. I wouldn't put it past them to plant an agent where he might be in a position to eavesdrop." "I suppose I should watch out for hidden cameras in peoples' purses as well." "And in the balconies and the roof... pretty much everywhere. With a good angle and a telephoto lens, a trained lip reader can get the majority of your conversation. If you don't want anything to happen to Lana, you'll be careful." "You sound like you are finally agreeing to letting Jim and Lana in." Lois shook her head. "The fact that I have contacted you is on a need to know basis, and they don't. In fact, it might be best if you didn't tell them about each other. If one of them is a traitor and the other isn't, letting them know could be disastrous." Clark frowned, then slowly nodded. Lois continued. "They'll expect you to be interested in finding out who attacked you in Arizona even if I never re-enter the picture, so I don't suppose there is much risk in continuing that, unless you should get too close and scare them into hiding. They might even be suspicious if you suddenly ceased your investigations." Clark nodded. "There's always the chance that Jim will come up with something, and if he does, we'll be able to nail them with it." Clark probably intended to make the evidence public. That wouldn't be a bad strategy, assuming they could get the information to reach print and that they had the evidence to back it up. A large public outcry would force bureaucrats to purge their ranks; secrecy was the enemy's greatest strength. If necessary, they would plead with the president. The problem was in getting the evidence they needed. "We're going to have to get hard evidence if we're going to nail anyone." "We'll get it." Clark's voice was confident. Lois wished she shared his optimism. Having the power to move mountains probably led him to expect success in everything. She'd have to watch him closely; her research suggested that he tended to approach problems directly. Someone used to bursting through walls might find it difficult to sneak in the back door. "I wish I could be so certain. It scares me to think about how much power these people have." "We don't really know how much power these people have... or how little. Most of the people attacking me were only following orders. Only one or two of the officers were actually in on the conspiracy. All they really need are a few key people in the right positions." "They had no reason to suspect I might be in Arizona, and yet they had two men in power there. How many military bases are there across the country? They must have hundreds of people working for them at the least in the military alone." Clark spoke quietly. "Nevertheless, you have to believe that most people have not been corrupted. We're dealing with a small crowd of bad apples." "Some of them might not even be that bad. I think that once the leadership falls the rest should be easy. People like Lana who have obeyed only because of blackmail or threats would gladly testify in return for immunity or reduced sentences." "Lana hasn't really cooperated with them. She let me know what was going on." He was very quick to defend his ex-girlfriend. It irritated Lois to know how gullible he could be; he wanted to see the best in people despite the evidence. Such gullibility would have gotten anyone else killed; Clark Kent could afford to be gullible. They couldn't kill him, and he didn't have any surviving family members. She didn't have that luxury. Lois pushed her cup and plate away, suddenly unable to think about eating or drinking another bite. "So you'll basically continue to do what you've been doing." "And what will you be doing?" Clark looked at her for a moment, then said, "It's going to be hard to work together if they'll be watching me as closely as you think they will." "I can't afford to be seen with you. We'll have to work alone." "How will I keep in contact with you?" "Don't worry about that. I'll contact you when I have anything important to share, and I'll check in regularly to see what your developments are." "No." "What?" Lois had a bad feeling. Clark had a set, stubborn look on his face again. "I've been looking for you for too long; I won't risk losing you again." "You never had me to begin with. That was another woman, and she chose to be with another man." Lois regretted the statement the moment she said it. It was cruel and unnecessary, and she was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Clark Kent wore his heart on his sleeve. It simply irritated her to be confused for some sort of imposter. She sighed and reached across the table to touch his hand. They were both startled by the spark of electricity that arced between them, and their eyes met. Lois was the first to look away, and she slowly pulled her hand from his. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." She refused to look at him. "I guess I've gotten into the habit of attacking people whenever they get too close." "Am I getting too close?" The question sounded like something Kade might have asked, and Lois found her head snapping around to stare into his eyes hopefully. She was disappointed. Clark Kent was the only person staring back at her. The fact that her fingers still tingled from touching him didn't matter at all. It took her a moment to remember his question, and another to formulate an answer. "I've been on my own for a long time, and I'm not used to someone else thinking they have a claim on me." "I won't let you go without knowing where you are. If you were captured, I wouldn't even know where to start looking." Lois didn't bother to mention that her enemies wanted her dead. If she went missing, the best place to look for her would be in the sewer somewhere. She hesitated for a moment, then pulled a small cell phone from an inside pocket of the threadbare overcoat she'd bought from the homeless man. "I bought two cell phones anonymously at different places and purchased a hundred minutes of air time each. This phone has the number of the other one programmed into speed dial; just press one and you'll reach me." Clark looked uncomfortable. "Cell phone transmissions are easily intercepted. Anyone with a police scanner can... " "Try not to call me anywhere near your normal haunts. When you do call, I'll pretend to work for your local pizza joint- Tony's." Clark rolled his eyes, and Lois scowled in irritation. "Just humor me. We'll have to meet regularly; I wouldn't want to talk about sensitive information on the phone. Order one pizza and we'll meet in the alley we first met. Two pizzas and we'll meet where you dropped me off in Metropolis." "This all sounds a little paranoid." "I did a lot of research on this sort of stuff under the pretense of doing research for my books." The doubtful look on his face irritated her again. While it was true that much of her knowledge was based on things she had read, she'd had lots of time to practice. She'd even learned to hot wire a car and pick locks from a drug runner while she was in South America working her way north. She would have preferred to find a ship going directly from Africa to a port in North America or Europe, but she'd known they were looking for her. Clark hesitated, then nodded. "You're going to show me where you are staying." She shook her head. Denying him might not do any good; all he'd have to do was follow her with his x-ray vision. She had to make the gesture in any case; it would be easier for her to slip in and out unnoticed without him. He frowned for a moment, then relaxed. "I guess I'll have to live with it." He was a terrible liar. He'd have to be careful about that, or it would get them all in trouble. She smiled at him grimly. "I guess we'd better get back, unless you really want the tourists to get a lot of shots of you flying through the air." She gestured outside. Traffic had already begun to pick up, and Lois could see the first horse drawn carriage making its way down the street. Clark nodded. He pulled several bills from his wallet and dropped them on the table, then stood. Lois followed suit, slipping the dirty overcoat back on in spite of her qualms. She'd have to take a long, long bath when this was all over. Lois followed him quickly outside. They turned a corner and began to make their way along a long road closed to street traffic. Street artists were already staking out positions, placing examples of their art all around them. Lois felt a momentary desire to throw her concerns to the wind and simply take in the ambiance. It had been years since she'd allowed herself to simply have fun. She could hear the sound of street musicians coming from a block over, and the growing crowds of pedestrians had a sort of energy she hadn't experienced in a long time. New Orleans didn't have the angry, gloomy feel that Metropolis had. It was more laid back and fun loving, and that was something she'd been missing for a long time. It was something she'd admired Kade for; he hadn't seemed to worry about anything. When he wanted something, he went for it. She glanced at the man beside her. The differences between him and the man she'd made love to were striking. He claimed not to have any memories of their time together, and in a way, she was relieved. She'd made love to Kade; having a different man have those memories would seem like a violation. If he had those memories, he'd look at her differently. He was aware of her as a woman; she saw occasional flashes of it in his eyes. He didn't have the passion that Kade had possessed, and yet she couldn't help but be aware of him. He led her through a small maze of streets. The buildings were set close together and there were often balconies with intricately decorated ironwork rails. The buildings were well worn, most being over a century old. It took Lois a moment to notice that the street they turned down was deserted. A moment later everything tumbled around her as she was jerked into the sky, moving forward at a tremendous rate. She bit back a scream as she realized that Clark Kent had his arms around her. "I'm sorry about that. A car was about to turn the corner, and that was the first deserted street I could find." "You could have given me whiplash!" Lois said angrily. He shook his head. "An aura of energy surrounds my body and protects me from harm. Usually it just projects out a fraction of an inch from my skin, but I can will it to provide a limited protection to things I carry. Without it, I couldn't pick up really huge objects like the space shuttle. Concentrating the weight of a battleship on an area the size of my palms should just tear right through like tissue paper." "What does all of that have to do with giving me whiplash?" Lois asked angrily. "It protects against g-forces and even allows you to breathe in the face of supersonic wind speeds." He grinned smugly at her. For the first time Lois became aware of the speed at which the ground was passing beneath them. The wind should have been hitting her in the face so hard that she couldn't see; instead she was barely aware of it at all. "Of course, it only works up to certain speed. When I decide to fly really fast, I have to fly solo." "You can fly faster than this?" Lois gasped. He grinned. "I might as well be walking." For a moment he looked like a little boy showing off a shiny new toy, and Lois could almost detect a trace of Kade in his smile. She found herself smiling back without meaning to. He was the strongest man in the world, and yet he looked to her for approval. It was a heady feeling, one exacerbated by the fact that Lois was becoming aware once again of the corded muscles pressed against her. He smelled like Kade, and Lois was finding it difficult not to think back on the night they spent together. It was almost a relief when he finally spoke. "Where do you want me to drop you?" "Drop me off by Hobbs Bay in a deserted area." "That's a bad part of the city to get lost in." "I know my way, and I'm a first dan black belt in Tae Kwon Do." At his glance she shrugged and said, "I've had plenty of time to practice, trust me." "Most of the thugs in the area are armed." "So am I." It was Lois's turn to feel smug at his astonished expression. She was pleased as well. He hadn't used his x-ray vision, or he would have seen the pistol she was carrying. He was an honorable man. "You need to watch a little more carefully." "I don't usually have many problems with weapons," he said. That was probably true. Very few people probably even bothered to pull a weapon in his presence anymore. Still, it meant that he wasn't looking for spying devices either. Metropolis appeared below them, and it seemed like only an instant before they landed. ********************* As Clark's feet finally touched the pavement, he realized that he was strangely reluctant to let Lois go. It felt good to have her in his