Lifeflight - An Elseworld Story - Part II
By Raconteur <RACONTEUR27@YAHOO.COM>
Rated PG13
Submitted January 2001

______________

**Author's Notes**

This story picks up right after that nasty cliffhanger at the end of
Lifeflight Part I.  You really do need to read the first part (which
has been archived) or none of this will make any sense.  Same ol'
disclaimers apply, and again, many thanks to the readers at Zoom's
message board for making this story possible. I'm also deeply 
indebted to Erin Klingler who again put forth great time and energy, 
despite injury, to edit this.  Thanks, Erin. As usual, comments 
welcome.

______________


 From Lifeflight Part I:

Lois felt the blood running down her face.  It stung her eyes when
she tried to open them.  Her head was throbbing and she knew she
couldn't take much more of this.  "You killed Danny Carter.  How many
other people are you going to kill to play out your sick little
fantasy?"

"As many as it takes, Miss Lane.  And don't worry, I'll make sure to
look suitably somber when I visit your father to pay my condolences
to him after the loss of his beloved daughter in a tragic car wreck."

She prepared herself for the impending attack but nothing happened.
She heard the echoes of retreating footsteps and the sound of a door
somewhere closing.  How had she gotten into this mess?  Where was
Perry?  Where were Henderson and MPD?  "Clark, where are you?" she
whispered, the words escaping in a sob.


********

Lifeflight Part II:

********


Clark raced to the biochem buildings, visually sweeping the area; he
was dismayed to find most of the walls had been lined with lead, no
doubt to deal with radiation.  He searched frantically for her.  His
ears pricked up.  Was that...?  Could it be?  His heart leapt into his
throat.

********

A thunderous sound reverberated through the room as the wall came
crashing down.  A stream of bright light burst into the room and she
turned away from it as best as she could.

"Lois?" he sobbed as he saw her sitting listlessly in the chair.  A
stream of blood originating at her scalp line trickled down her face,
which was already turning black and blue.  Her right eye was swollen
shut and her bottom lip was split open.  She moaned slightly and he
realized that she was conscious.  He was beside her in an instant as
he moved to gently gather her in his arms.  He held her as though she
were made of glass.  Despite her injuries, she clung tightly to him.

"Clark?" she whispered against his chest.  She felt a sharp pain in
her side but ignored it.  She needed to know he was there; she needed
to be held by him.

"It's okay, I'm here." His voice was thick with emotions that he 
tried  to bury.

"You came for me," her voice was small and weak as she murmured
against his body.

His breath caught in a ragged sigh.  "Of course I did."  He heard the
sounds of Henderson's men approaching in the background and he gently
carried Lois out of the room.

Clark reappeared outside with Lois in his arms.  Henderson took one
look at Dr. Lane and ordered his men into the building.  Metropolis's
finest descended upon the labs and seized the evidence and detained
everyone inside for questioning.

Clark took off and forced himself to fly slowly toward MetroGen.  He
landed outside the ambulance bay and carried her into the Emergency
Department.  A startled resident ran to meet him with a gurney and
stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that the hero was carrying one
of their own.  It was as if time froze in the ED and all eyes were
upon the larger than life hero and the small figure he cradled in his
arms.

"Somebody help me!" he pleaded and the hypnotic trance was broken.
One of the residents brought the gurney to him and he gently lay
Lois on it.  She was quickly wheeled away from him.  In the
confusion, he stood in the hallway and watched her disappear.

He ran out through the double doors, away from the hospital and 
returned quickly as Clark Kent, unbuttoning and rolling up his 
sleeves as he went.  He could hear his heart pounding.  He ran into 
the examining area and searched for her.   Clark found her quickly 
and ran into the exam room where Brett Hoffman and an intern named 
Erin were tending to Lois.  A nurse moved quickly in the background.

Clark could see the tension in Brett's face.  He was a year younger
than Lois and had been working with her in the ED ever since his
residency.  Like most of the staff in the Emergency Department, he
was used to seeing Lois as someone who was always in control.  The
commanding Lois Lane that he knew bore little resemblance to the
fragile woman lying before him, the victim of a savage beating.

Brett took a deep breath and pulled an examining light out of his
coat pocket and gently looked into Lois's eyes.  He was careful to
avoid touching the sensitive area around her right eye, that was
bruised and raw, any more than necessary.  Lois whimpered slightly
and he jerked back.  He exhaled and began trying to talk the
situation out.  "Okay, patient is apparently concussive so let's
order a scan," he said to the nurse who hurried out of the room.  He
turned to Erin and to Clark, who was now standing beside him, and his
eyes shifted from left to right as he searched for what to do.

The doors to the exam room burst open and an out of breath orderly
exclaimed, "We've got an incoming Code Green and we need one of you
in OR four, stat!"

Clark looked at his colleague.  Brett had known Lois for years and he
could hardly be expected to be rational and level headed in this
situation, though Clark wasn't certain he could trust himself either.
The two men looked each other in the eye for a long moment.  It came
down to Clark's unwillingness to leave Lois alone.  "Go," he said
firmly.  I'll take care of Lois, just go."  Brett nodded vigorously
and raced out of the exam room with the orderly.

He reached a hand out to touch Lois's temple in a feather light
caress.  He pushed her hair back slightly and looked at the ugly gash.

"Clark?' Lois whimpered, struggling to stay conscious.

"It's okay, I'm here," he said softly.  He looked up at Erin. "We're
going to need some stitches." She nodded and turned to retrieve the
needle and the Lidocaine.  "First," he said, and Erin immediately
turned back toward him.  "We have to determine the extent of her
other injuries." He placed his hand gently under Lois's back.  She
protested feebly.  "I'm sorry," he whispered as he gently slid his
hand under her overcoat.  "Help me with this," he said.

Erin proceeded to push the large heavy coat away from Lois's shoulders
and slipped her arms out of the garment. The coat fell back onto the
table in a puddle.  Clark eased Lois back down to the examining
table.  His fingers trembling, he reached for the buttons of her
blouse.  He struggled with the top button for a long moment and
clenched his fists in frustration.  He couldn't do this.

"Dr. Kent?" Erin's voice intruded on his thoughts.  He looked up at
her and noticed the pair of scissors she held in her hands.  He
stepped back and allowed her to cut away the gray silk blouse, which
now bore rust-colored spots of dried blood.

Lois shivered slightly and he noticed the gooseflesh on her creamy
skin.  He felt as though he were sinning against her somehow, seeing
her like this, completely vulnerable, wearing nothing from the waist
up save her bra.  He'd quickly gotten over any sense of squeamishness
at seeing people in various states of undress in medical
examinations, but this was different. This was Lois.  As awkward and
uncomfortable as it felt, he placed her health and safety above his
own embarrassment and her modesty and focused his attention on the
greenish bruise which covered a large area of the left side of her
torso.  He lowered his glasses slightly down the bridge of his nose
and cringed with an almost physical pain.  He placed his hand over
Lois's side, his fingers weren't quite touching her, but he was close
enough to feel the warmth rising off of her skin.  "These ribs are
cracked," he pronounced.  He saw the puzzled look on Erin's face.
"Trust me," he added, and she didn't question his diagnosis.  'Forgive
me,' he thought as he swept over the rest of her body as quickly as
possible to look for other injuries.

********

Hours later, Clark stood outside the door to her private room,
watching her sleep.  He felt emotionally and even physically drained.
He marveled at how small and delicate she looked now, lying in the
middle of that large hospital bed.  Her mother and father sat beside
her bed.  He had seen the tears in Ellen Lane's eyes when she saw her
little girl, bloodied and bruised.  Clark's own fears had been
tempered by the results of the scan.  Lois had suffered a concussion,
but no permanent brain damage and while the sight of each and every
one of her injuries made him want to cry, he knew it could have been
much worse.

His heart ached when he thought about what she'd been put through.
His pain mixed with white-hot anger toward the people who had done
this to her and guilt over not having been there to stop it.  In that
first hour after he'd treated her and she'd been moved out of the ED,
he thought about what would have happened if hadn't gotten her
message, if he hadn't been there in time.  The thought of losing her
made him physically ill and it took all the strength he had at that
moment to keep from breaking down.

He tried to avoid eavesdropping on the Lanes' conversation, but
couldn't help but tune in the moment he heard Lois's voice.  She
spoke in the faintest of whispers and he strained to make out the
words.

"Dr. Kent?" he heard her father's baritone calling to him from within
the room.  He sighed and walked slowly into the dimly lit room.  Lois
looked up at him.  Her right eye was nearly swollen shut and was
partially obscured by the bandage over the four stitches he'd had to
place under her eyebrow to close the cut.  Her face was a mottled
black and blue and her bottom lip was swollen.  A bandage similar to
the one over her eyebrow covered the seven stitches on her forehead,
just below the hairline.  She whispered his name and he felt like he
wanted to die.

He looked up at her parents who were walking toward him. "I assume
you need to talk with Lois. We'll be in the waiting area, Dr. Kent."
Dr. Lane placed his arm around his wife and nodded at the younger man.

Clark cleared his throat. "Thank you, sir, and please, call me Clark."

Sam Lane extended his hand to the solemn young doctor.  "Thank you
for taking care of our little girl, Clark," he said quietly.  Clark
accepted the older man's proffered hand and merely nodded.  The Lanes
slipped quietly out of the room, leaving Lois alone with Clark.
Clark sat down in the vacant chair beside her bed, his clipboard in
his lap. They remained silent for a long moment, neither knowing what
to say.  Her eyes met his in a penetrating gaze and he looked away.

"How are you feeling?" he asked quietly, avoiding eye contact.

"Like I fell down a flight of stairs and got beat up," she said with
a smile.  He smiled ruefully, and she continued.  "I'm all right,"
she said.  "Although I think it's the Vicadin talking right now. I'm
not sure how much of this I'll remember tomorrow."

They settled back into an awkward silence. "Clark?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

He shook his head. "What?"

"Thank you, Clark, for saving me."

"I...I should have been there sooner.  I should have known something
was wrong...."

"Clark, listen to me. You saved my life."

He looked away, unable to accept her gratitude.  He took a deep
breath and tried to regain his equilibrium.  "Admitting needs me to
ask you a few questions," he said formally.

She nodded, fully aware of the standard procedure, but even in her
fuzzy, drug-induced state, she was no less cognizant of the fact that
he was trying to put emotional distance between then.  "Okay," she
said softly.

He looked down at the standard admitting questionnaire, augmented by
a dozen additional questions asked of all patients suffering from
head trauma.  He read over the questions silently and his breath
caught in his throat.  He couldn't ask Lois these things.  He
couldn't pry so brazenly into her private life, demanding to know the
most intimate details of her life, and he shouldn't have been asked
to.  He was her friend, not her doctor.   He looked up at the ceiling
as if searching for divine guidance and his gaze turned back to the
floor.  "Excuse me," he mumbled and walked swiftly into the hallway.
He stopped the first female nurse he saw and handed her the clipboard.

********

The following morning, Lois's parents and Lucy arrived at the
hospital early to sign her out and take her home.  She would have
normally protested being ushered out of the hospital in a wheelchair,
but considering the fact that her right leg was in a cast and her
sense of balance had been completely shot, she was an
uncharacteristically silent and cooperative patient.

Despite her assurances that she would be fine, her mother and father
both skipped work that morning to stay with her.  Lois, for the most
part, slept through the morning.  The painkillers completely wiped
her out.  She remembered only bits and pieces of what happened
the day before, relying in part on the accounts of others to fill in the
gaps.  She remembered going to Ft. Truman and being found by
Fitzgerald's goons.  She remembered being thrown down a flight of
stairs and assumed that was how she'd sustained most of her injuries,
but what happened after that wasn't entirely clear.  She remembered
Fitzgerald interrogating her and faintly recalled him striking her,
repeatedly.  She remembered calling for Clark and then his sudden
appearance. After that, it all blurred together.  She remembered
talking to her parents the night before but didn't recall anything that
had been said.  She remembered Clark coming in to see her.  He'd been upset
about something. She couldn't remember if they'd had an argument, but
she clearly remembered seeing how unhappy and how uncomfortable he
was.

Uncle Perry and Aunt Alice stopped by later that morning to see how
she was doing and Lois spoke briefly with them.  Perry informed her
that Henderson and the MPD had captured Fitzgerald and his men and
that the virus had been recovered.  Genzyme was under a full
investigation and thanks to her, Danny's murderers had been caught.
She prodded Perry about the exclusive and he admitted that the Planet
had scooped everyone, including LNN, on the story.  Despite her best
efforts, Lois began to doze off and Perry and Alice excused
themselves.

She woke that afternoon to find her sister and her mother bustling
cheerfully about the room. The pair aided Lois in changing her
bandages.

"I'm not hungry," Lois protested.

"Come on, sis, you haven't had a thing to eat all day," Lucy
chastised her older sister as she placed a tray with a bowl of soup
and a glass of juice on the nightstand. Lucy proved to be just as
stubborn as Lois and simply waited until Lois acquiesced to eating
something.

Lois tried to stay awake to have a proper conversation with Lucy, but
the moment Lucy saw the faintest traces of pain on Lois's expression,
she demanded that she take her medicine and get some rest. Unwilling
to contest the issue, Lois agreed passively and drifted back into a
peaceful sleep.

Lois woke late that evening and called weakly for her mother.  Ellen
Lane bustled into the room in full nurse mode and helped her daughter
to the bathroom.  With her crutches under her arms and her mother's
added support, Lois made it across the bedroom to the master bath.
She assured her mother that she'd be fine on her own.

Lois stared at her reflection in the mirror and groaned.  She looked
as bad as she felt.  She steadied herself on her crutches and hobbled
painfully out of the bathroom.  Her mother was just returning to the
bedroom and closed the door to the hallway behind her.

"Lois, Clark is here," Ellen said as she moved to her daughter's side
to steady her.  She helped Lois back into bed.  Ellen fussed with the
pillows as Lois shifted despite the nagging pain in her side, to make
herself comfortable sitting upright.

"Could you send him up, please, Mother?"

"Of course, sweetie," Ellen replied as she briefly placed a hand on
top of Lois's.

Ellen disappeared into the hall and a moment later, Lois heard a knock
at the door.  "Come on in, Clark," she called.

The door opened slowly and Clark entered the room, a vase holding a
dozen yellow roses in hand.  "Hi, Lois," he said softly as he crossed
the room to stand beside her bed.

"Oh, Clark, they're beautiful," she whispered.  He placed the vase on
her nightstand and sat down in the chair that had been drawn up to
her bedside.  She reached out a hand to him.  He took her hand in
his, stroking it gently with his thumb.

He cleared his throat nervously.  "How are you?" he asked quietly.
He held her small hand in between his two larger ones.  He felt so
awful after last night.  Yesterday, he had almost lost her forever,
but instead of being there for her when she needed him, he was all
consumed by his own guilt.

"I'm getting by," she said with a slight smile.

"I'm so sorry for the way I acted yesterday," he said, shaking his head.

She squeezed his hand. "Hush," she whispered.  She saw the guilt and
pain on his face and silently begged him to let go of the feelings that
were tearing him apart.  "You saved my life yesterday, Clark, and
you did nothing wrong. Please believe me."

He nodded numbly without the strength to protest.  His eyes met hers
and he realized how intensely she was looking at him, as though she
were studying his soul.  He reached out a hesitant hand to gently
brush an errant lock of hair away from her face.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said quietly.

She knew that if he could have traded places with her, if he could
have taken all the pain onto himself, he would have.  She knew that
he would have gladly born the burden, and knowing that had made the
pain so much easier to bear.  She only wished she knew how to explain
that to him.

He drew her hand up to his lips and held it there for a moment.  He
closed his eyes and allowed himself to be surrounded by her sweet
scent and the wonderful feeling of her skin under his lips.

She looked up at him, a thousand different emotions running through
her mind.  She couldn't even describe the feelings that he was
awakening in her.  Lois felt tears prick at her eyes.  He sighed and
smiled a sad smile as he gazed down at her.  She stifled a yawn and
blinked hard.

"Try to get some rest," he whispered, his voice rumbling low in his
throat.  She smiled as she closed her eyes.  She expected him to
leave, but he didn't.  He continued holding her hand.  She reveled in
the contact.

He sat beside her, watching as she settled into a deep and peaceful
sleep.  He resigned himself to only watch her a little while longer.
She was an enigma to him.  She made him feel things he'd never felt
before, aroused in him emotions he didn't even know he was capable of
experiencing.  One minute, she made him feel like the most important
person in her world, the next she would look at him or even dream
about him and he'd see such incredible fear in her eyes.  He didn't
know if she wanted him to stay or if she was afraid of him.  God, what
had he done to her?  Why did she call out his name with such terror
in her voice?  He had no idea what he'd done, and it was the not
knowing that was killing him.  His mother was right.  They needed to
have a long talk, but not now.  Not when she already felt so
vulnerable and defenseless.

He had taken an awful chance just then, touching her the way he did,
allowing himself to indulge in her presence and her touch.  He was
lucky she didn't recoil from him.  He was so confused.  Was he
imagining it, or did she feel it, too, that energy that surged
through him whenever they touched?  It was she who reached for him
this evening; she initiated it and certainly didn't seem to be
repulsed by his almost brazen behavior.  He longed to believe that
she enjoyed it as much as he had, that she longed to touch him and be
touched by him just as much as he longed to touch her and be touched
by her.  But he couldn't honestly believe that.  He remembered the
other night, the way she clung to him in her sleep, the way she
buried her face against his chest and allowed herself to be enfolded
in his arms, and how the following morning she ran from him.  God, it
didn't make any sense.

The thoughts flew in circle patterns through his mind until he was
completely dizzy and had what he guessed was the beginning of a
headache.  He closed his eyes for a moment.  He just needed a second
to collect his thoughts.

********

Ellen knocked softly on the door and waited for a moment.  Puzzled
when there was no response, she pushed it open a crack.  "Lois?" she
called softly.  "Clark?"  She peered into the room.  The sight in
front of her brought a slight smile to her lips.  Clark had fallen
asleep sitting beside Lois.  She walked quietly closer toward them
and noticed that he was holding her hand, their fingers interlaced.
She raised a hand to her lips.  They both looked so peaceful that she
didn't dare wake them.  She quietly gathered the quilt from the foot
of Lois's bed and covered Clark with it.  Lois had explained to Ellen
that Clark was a friend, but obviously the young man meant a great
deal to her little girl.  She retreated quietly, turning off the
lights and silently closing the door behind her.

********

Lois opened her eyes slowly to find that it was still dark outside.
Her eyes adjusting to the lack of light, she was able to make out the
shadowy silhouette at her bedside.   As the fog lifted from her mind,
she realized that it was him.  He had come to visit her that evening
and was still there.  By the sound of his breathing, she could tell
he was asleep.  She could just barely make out the pattern of the
quilt that covered his sleeping form.  It was the quilt that had been
at the foot of Clark's bed in his parents' farmhouse and it was the
same one that he had wrapped her up in when he flew her back from
Kansas.  She had forgotten to return it to him and had left it folded
at the foot of her bed.  It was an old quilt, but obviously well
cared for; he had probably had it his entire life.  Morning's first
light began to filter in through the windows.  She could now make out
the features of his face; he was still wearing his glasses.  She
noticed the slight rise and fall of his chest with his every breath.

What she felt for him, what she felt for this incredible man, was
more than just physical attraction, she decided, and it wasn't just
platonic friendship either.  What she felt was something more.  She
couldn't define it, but she had never experienced anything like it
before.  She had never felt like this about Craig or anyone else
before for that matter.  She decided that waking up to see him every
morning would not be bad at all.  As much as she wanted to
contemplate having something more with Clark, the voice inside her
head that reminded her constantly of what happened with Danny refused
to leave her alone.  'This is different!' she thought angrily to
herself, but was it?  She may not have been a naïve, inebriated
college kid this time, but what was at stake was once again
friendship and it was a friendship she was not about to sacrifice.
She was so confused.

Lois groaned in frustration as she realized a
trip to the little girls' room was becoming necessary.  She noticed
Clark begin to stir.  He shook his head slightly and opened his eyes.
She watched him survey the somewhat unfamiliar surroundings before
his gaze settled upon her.  They made eye contact and she smiled.

"Good morning, Clark."

"Morning," he replied as he dragged a hand through his hair.  "What
time is it?" he mumbled almost incoherently.  He looked at the clock
on the nightstand, startled.  "It's past seven in the morning!" he
exclaimed, shaking his head.  "I guess I must have fallen asleep."

Lois dragged herself up into a sitting position and began to
push back the covers.

"Don't get up," he said as he stood up.  "What do you need?  I'll get
it for you."

"Actually, Clark, I need to get up," she said with a lopsided smile.

He looked at her for a moment before the meaning of her words dawned
on him.  "Oh, oh right."

"Could you help me up, please?"

He looked around for a moment.  "I think your mother is still
Downstairs. Do you want me to go get her?"

"No, it's all right, Clark.  I'll be fine. I could just use a little
help getting to my feet." She smiled to hide the grimace of pain from
shifting around too much.   "If you could just grab my crutches," she
pointed at the crutches leaning against the wall and he brought them
to her.  He pulled back the covers and gingerly helped her up.  She
steadied herself on the crutches and hobbled the short distance to
the bathroom.

Clark helped Lois back to bed and excused himself to go start
breakfast.  He walked quietly down the stairs to find that Ellen Lane
was already bustling about the kitchen.

"Good morning, Clark," she said cheerfully upon seeing him enter the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mrs. Lane," he replied, feeling rather awkward.
Having fallen asleep in Lois's room the night before, Clark could
imagine what Ellen Lane must have thought his relationship with her
daughter was.

"None of this 'Mrs. Lane' business.  Please, Clark, 'Ellen' will be just
fine," she said matter of factly.  "You're up rather early this
morning. Is Lois awake?"

"Uh, she was awake, but I'm not sure if she's gone back to sleep," he replied.

"Good, there's plenty of food here for both of you.  Why don't you
take her some breakfast and I'll be up in a little while to say
goodbye.  Sam will be here by eight-thirty, but if you have to leave
for work, don't worry about waiting around for him."

Clark barely had the chance to nod before Ellen was handing him a
tray loaded with food, mostly soft things like oatmeal that wouldn't
be difficult for Lois to eat.  Ellen hurried around the kitchen,
putting meals that she'd obviously spent half the night preparing in
Tupperware containers and putting them in the freezer.  Clark made
his way upstairs with the tray.  At Lois's door, he balanced the tray
on one hand and knocked softly.  He heard her bid him enter and he
opened the door.  "Breakfast is served," he said grandly as he placed
the tray on the nightstand.

"That was quick," she replied.

"Yeah, well, I think your mother was up the entire night cooking."

She craned her neck to survey the contents of the tray.  "Looks good.
You didn't by any chance see the paper downstairs, did you?" she
asked innocently.

"Uh-uh, no way," he shook his head sternly.  "Not with that
concussion.  You shouldn't be trying to read anything for at least the
next five days."

"That's why you're going to read it to me," she replied matter of factly.

Clark shrugged and nodded, finding no fault in her logic.  He
retrieved the morning's Daily Planet from downstairs and returned to
the chair by her bedside.  He settled in and began reading her the
top stories while she ate her breakfast.  He came to a story on the
front page under the fold and skipped over it.  Turning the page and
folding the paper, he began reading aloud.

"Go back," she said between mouthfuls of oatmeal.

"What?"

"You skipped a story on the front page, go back," she said.

"I did not," he stammered.

"Yes, you did.  Don't think I didn't notice you cough and shuffle the
paper around. Now what's on the front page that you don't want me to
know about?"

"It's nothing," he said defensively.  He couldn't believe how easily
she saw through him.

"Then read it, please."

He sighed and turned back to the front page.  "Metro PD credits 'The
Angel' with Stopping Deadly Virus Production," he read.  She said
nothing and he continued with the sub headline.  "Identity of
MetroGen doctor who was seriously injured after discovering illegal
genetic engineering project withheld."  He read on about the case
with which he was intimately familiar and read further of the pleas
by the Metro PD and the Mayor's office for 'The Angel' to come
forward and talk with city officials.  He reached the end of the
article and waited for her judgement.

"They're still calling you 'The Angel'?" she asked finally.

"Yeah, well, I haven't been talking to the press or police or
anything," he rubbed absently at the back of his neck.  "I don't know
what to say, or to whom, I just...I don't know who I can trust."

"Do you trust me, Clark?" she asked.

"Of course I do," he replied.  "You know that."

"Then I know just the person who can help you.  Come back here today
at four o'clock sharp...."

"Four o'clock?"

"Yeah, any later and Perry won't be able to get it into tomorrow's
morning edition."

"Perry?  The morning edition?"

"Mmm-hmm. Uncle Perry is going to help us introduce Superman to
Metropolis.  Come in the suit and wait outside my window."

He shook his head and grinned while she concocted her plan for the
afternoon out loud.  How was it that she was always able to find the
answers to his problems so easily?

********

Perry sat behind his desk ruminating over an editing board of the
proposed front page for the next day's morning edition.  He made some
adjustments with a thick red pen, covering the board with arrows,
crossing out things and circling others.  He dropped the board back
onto his desk and stared at it thoughtfully.  The ringing of the
phone on his desk interrupted his brooding.

"Perry White here," he barked.

"Uncle Perry."

"Lois!  How are you, darlin'?"

"I'm fine, Uncle Perry.  Can you be at my house at four o'clock today?"

"Four o'clock?  What's going on, Lois?  Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, Uncle Perry, but believe me, you don't want to miss this."

"All right then.  I'll see you at four."

"Don't be late."

"I won't, darlin'."

"Bye, Uncle Perry."

"Bye, Lois."

Perry hung up the phone.  Confound it that girl could be cryptic when
she wanted to be.

********

Perry pulled up in Lois's driveway a few minutes before four o'clock.
He rang the doorbell and Lucy let him into the house.  Her books were
spread out across the kitchen table; clearly she was working on her
final project for her Masters, which was due in a few short weeks.
Perry made his way upstairs and knocked on Lois's door.

"Come in, Uncle Perry!" her voice called out from within the room.

Perry entered cautiously.  Lois was sitting upright in bed, her face
still bruised and covered in bandages, but some of the swelling had
started to recede.  Everything seemed all right.  "How are you,
honey?" he asked.  He crossed the room to sit in the chair pulled up
beside her bed.

"All things considered, I'm doing all right, Uncle Perry. And you?"

"Just fine."

"How's Aunt Alice, and the boys?"

"They're all fine," Perry replied.  "The boys wanted me to tell you
that they, ah, wish you a speedy recovery."

Lois merely nodded and they were both quiet for a moment.

"So, ah, you going to tell me what this is all about?" Perry drawled.

"Actually, I asked you over here to meet a friend of mine.  He should
be here any moment."  As if on cue, Clark descended from above the
house where he'd been waiting and floated next to Lois's window.  He
tapped softly on the glass.  "Dr. Lane?" he inquired.

"It's open," she replied nonchalantly, as if it were an everyday,
ordinary occurrence to have a man fly into one's bedroom through a
window.

Perry watched, thunderstruck, as the imposing figure in the blue and
red suit floated through the window and into the room, a bouquet of
lilies in hand.  He touched down gently on the carpet.

Lois looked first at Clark and then at the flowers and once again at
Clark's face to see the mischievous smile playing at the corner of
his mouth.

"I'm sorry I didn't stop by earlier to see how you were doing. These
are for you." He extended the bouquet to her and she accepted them
with a softly spoken 'thank you.'

Lois turned back to Perry, whose jaw was resting somewhere near the
floor.  "Uncle Perry," she began.  "I'd like you to meet Superman."
She turned back to Clark who was standing on the opposite side of her
bed.  "Superman, this is my Uncle, Perry White."

Superman's sober expression changed to a polite but detached smile as
he walked over to greet Perry and extended his hand to him.  "It's a
pleasure to meet you, Mr. White," he said.

"Great shades of Elvis!  I ah, well, I mean, it's a pleasure to meet
you, Superman!" Perry exclaimed as he shook the superhero's hand
vigorously.

Perry accepted the superhero's request to have Dr. Lane present for
the interview and so Superman pulled up another chair as Perry
prepared himself to fire off questions.  He could scarcely believe
that he was actually talking to the now famous 'Angel' that had taken
up residence in his fair city.  A million questions swirled through
his mind and he struggled to organize them.

"So, Superman," Perry began finally, after they had both settled in.
"Where do your powers come from?"

"I don't know," Clark replied with a shrug.

"Huh," Perry grunted.  "Well, have you always had them?"

Superman bit his bottom lip, brooding over his answer.  He didn't
want to explain too much about himself, not that he knew the answers
to all of the questions Perry was going to ask anyway.  "They
developed over time," he said slowly.

"What about the flying? How do you do that?"

Clark stared thoughtfully into space. "I don't know, really. Flying,
for me, is just like walking. I don't really have to think about it.
I just do it."

"All right, then.  Eyewitness accounts include statements that you
can catch bullets, heat things with your eyes, and bend steel in your
bare hands. Is all of this true?"

Clark shrugged. "Yes. I mean, I have had to do all of those things."

"So you're saying you're practically indestructible then?"

"Let's just say I haven't run into anything yet that can hurt me."

"How long have you been here?"

"I came to Metropolis a few months ago."

"Why Metropolis?"

"I thought I could make the biggest difference here. This is a
wonderful city, and there are a lot of opportunities for me to use my
powers for good here."

Perry nodded as he scribbled something down.  "Where are you from?
Are you from Earth?  Are you really an angel?  An alien?"

"Slow down, Mr. White," Superman replied with a smile.  "I'm not an
angel or anything like that, I assure you.  As to where I'm from,
I'd rather not say."  What was he supposed to say, Smallville,
Kansas?  How was he to explain that one?

Perry frowned.  "Well, can you tell me why you're here, then?"

"I'm here...to help."

"Help whom?"

"Whoever needs me, people in trouble.  I have all of
these...abilities that I can use to do some good.  So that's why I'm
here--to do whatever I can."

"If you're, ah, here to help, why have you remained hidden for so
long?  And why all the dark clothing and shadows at first?  Why the
switch to the, ah, new suit?" Perry asked as he surveyed the superhero
critically.  He noticed Superman's faintly bemused expression and
continued, "Not that there's anything wrong with the suit. It's a
great uniform...."

"Well I didn't want to scare people away." That was a half-truth, at
least, Clark told himself.  "But when it became clear to me that I
could do more good out in the open than I could while remaining
hidden, I decided it was time to let people know that I was here." He
shot Lois a quick glance that expressed his gratitude and his
understanding of the truth, that she had helped him realize the need
to don the suit.  "I figured the suit would make me visible, let
people know who I am and that I'm here to help."

Perry laughed. "Well, it certainly does make you more noticeable."
His expression sobered considerably.  "Some people have criticized
you as a lawless vigilante, claiming that you're failure to work in
conjunction with law enforcement and your, ah, unorthodox arrest
tactics violate suspect Miranda rights. What would you say to these
folks?"

Superman exhaled slowly. "I'm not here to take the law into my own
hands, but if I do see a crime being committed, I feel personally
obligated to stop it.  I'd be more than willing to work with the
police to coordinate my activities with them if they are amenable to
the idea, but I don't have any plans to stop helping."

Perry digested Superman's comments and chewed his lip thoughtfully.
"Are there any more like you?" he asked with a grin.

"Not on this planet," Superman said with a smile.  He knew.  He had checked.

Perry wrapped up the interview with several questions about the
Genzyme case and thanked the hero, shaking his hand vigorously again.
He thanked Lois for the exclusive, amazed at how she'd been able to
Deliver, before excusing himself to return to the newsroom.  It had
been years since he'd had a byline at the Planet and he had the
decade's biggest story to write up.

********

Clark let out a sigh of relief.

"That went well," Lois said cheerfully.

"Yeah, I owe you one," Clark grinned.

"Mmm, considering you saved my life, I think it's okay to say that we're even."

********

Clark and the Lanes worked out a schedule for the next few days to
ensure that someone was always with Lois.  Despite her protestations
that she wasn't an infant, it was quite clear that for all intents
and purposes that Lois had been rendered practically immobile for about a
week.  The broken ankle and ribs made moving around difficult and she
was unable to hide that fact from the three resident medical experts.
It was decided that Ellen would spend the nights at Lois's home and
that Clark would arrive early in the mornings until Sam could be
there.  Lucy would take Sam's place in the afternoons after her
classes so that Sam could spend a few hours each evening in the lab.
Clark would return again in the evenings after work and before Ellen
arrived.

They settled into a steady routine as Lois made slow but real
progress.  Clark relished in being able to spend his mornings with
Lois.  He would bring her breakfast each day when she awoke and would
sit by her bedside, reading her the paper.  Each morning he would
change the bandages on her face, taking delicate care not to hurt
her.  The wounds slowly healed and the bruises began to fade away.
The stitches would have to come out soon.  He would return again in
the evenings and they would talk, often about Superman's exploits but
also about work and other things.  Several times in the evenings,
Clark had to leave her briefly to go be Superman.  She could now
recognize the distant look on his face that signaled that he was
hearing something.  The look was usually followed by one of
frustration and confusion.  Each time he tried to explain what was
wrong, but each time she cut him off, pleading with him to go,
telling him that she would be fine and that she wouldn't go anywhere
or do anything ambitious until he returned.  With a pained look on
his face, he would stand up and spin into the suit.  Then he would be
gone.  He returned to her as quickly as possible and truth be told,
he was never gone for longer than twenty minutes.  He reserved his
evening patrols until after Ellen Lane arrived, and when he was with
Lois, would only leave for real emergencies that he thought emergency
services wouldn't be able to handle.

Wednesday evening, the following week, the Lanes gathered at Lois's
house to celebrate Lucy's twenty-third birthday.  Clark had met
Lois's younger sister at the hospital the night Lois was injured and
had seen and talked with her on several occasions since, but was
quite surprised when Ellen insisted that he come to the intimate
family gathering.  That evening, Clark, who had spent the afternoon
with Lois, greeted the Lanes when they arrived at Lois's house.  Sam
and Ellen made their way to the kitchen to get everything ready, Lucy
and Scott would arrive in an hour, and as was her style, Ellen took
charge, insisting that there was nothing Clark needed to do to help.
He retreated upstairs to see if Lois was ready.  From the sound of
running water, he could tell that she was still in the shower.  She
was becoming increasingly more mobile and with the aide of a plastic
bag over her cast and a chair placed in the shower, she was able to
bathe without Lucy or her mother's assistance.

Clark waited outside her bedroom.  He heard her shut the water off
and figured that she would be out soon and if she needed anything,
she would call.  He waited patiently for her outside her door; she
still needed help maneuvering up and down stairs.

A sharp 'thud' startled Clark, and he heard Lois cry out.  She was
calling his name.  He rushed into the bedroom.  At the bathroom door
he knocked.  "Lois?" he called urgently.  "Lois, are you all right?"
When she didn't respond, he opened the door.  He saw Lois on the
ground, her face screwed up in a tight grimace, her crutches lying
beside her.  She was covered only by a towel wrapped around
her body.  He bent down immediately and scooped her up gingerly into
his arms.

"I slipped," she whispered, still gripped by pain.  She clutched her
hand to her left side.

Clark placed her gently on the bed and put a careful hand over hers.
He touched his other hand to the stem of his glasses and met her
gaze.  "Is it all right if I...."  He motioned at lowering the glasses
down the bridge of his nose and she nodded.  She withdrew her hand
from her side and he stared hard over the rims of his glasses at the
ribs that had just begun to heal.  He sighed, relieved.  "They didn't
re-break," he said.

Lois exhaled slowly, relieved as well.  The pain began to subside and
she became acutely aware of how exposed and how vulnerable she was.
Save for one skimpy towel, she was completely naked in front of a man
who held such incredible power over her heart.  But Clark didn't make
her feel vulnerable.  He made her feel protected and even, given her
state of undress, showed such concern for her privacy.  And she
trusted him.  She trusted him not to hurt her, not to take advantage
of her.

Clark retrieved the forgotten crutches from the bathroom and leaned
them against the nightstand.  "Are you going to be all right getting
dressed?" he asked.  "Do you want me to get Ellen?"

She placed a hand at the top of the towel to steady it as she pulled
herself into a half-sitting position.  "No, Clark, I'll be fine.  And
thank you." She smiled at him, hoping that her expression conveyed
the gratitude she felt in her heart.

Clark simply nodded and left the room.

A short while later, Lois emerged, hobbling rather painfully, on the
crutches.  Clark stood beside her and with one arm steadied her,
supporting most of her weight, and with the other took away the
crutches.  "You had a pretty nasty fall back there," he said softly.
"I don't think trying to get down stairs with these things," he
nodded at the offending crutches in his hand, "would be the best
idea at the moment."  He leaned the crutches against the wall.

"And I guess you have a better idea?" She raised an eyebrow at him,
aware of the fact that she was flirting shamelessly with him.  With
his body so close to hers, she found it difficult to maintain her
better judgment.

"Does this qualify?" he asked as he picked her up, holding her gently
but securely in his arms.  Whatever reaction Clark was expecting was
not the one that he got.  He was startled when she placed her head
against his shoulder and placed her hand upon his chest.  He carried
her slowly down the stairs, sitting her down on the couch in the
living room while he went back upstairs to retrieve her crutches.  He
returned and they walked together the short distance to the dining
room where Ellen insisted that Lois sit down and relax, declaring
that she had everything under control and that the two of them should
just sit and wait.

********

"It's all right, Clark.  I'm not going to break," Lois chided him.
He continued to follow her up the stairs.

"I just want to make sure you don't slip, that's all," he offered.

She let out an exaggerated sigh as though putting up with him was
trying her patience.  They reached the top landing and she turned
around.  "Thank you, Clark," she said.

"For what?"

She shrugged.  "For everything.  I'm glad you came tonight."

"Me too, even if you, your mother, and your sister did all gang up on me."

"Well, us Lane women stick together."

"And it's not like Scott or your father were any help either."

"They know better than to contradict the women in their lives.  Maybe
there's something you can learn from them."  She saw Clark's eyes
grow wide and watched him open and close his mouth, as though trying
to find the words to say.  "I mean, I'm sure you'll get married
someday," she added quickly.  "It might help to know when it's best
to, you know...."

"Shut up and stand by your woman?"

"Right, exactly."

"Right," he agreed, nodding his head.  He placed his hand on her
upper arm and she felt a surge of electricity tingle through her.
She found herself desperately hoping that he would just lean in and
close the distance between them, literally and figuratively.  "I'll
see you tomorrow," he said quietly with a small smile.

"Goodnight, Clark," she replied, disappointed when he withdrew his
hand and quietly walked back down the stairs.  She heard him say his
'thank you's' and 'goodbyes' before leaving.  She sighed and tried to
push thoughts of Clark out of her mind, trying to convince herself
that it was only a physical attraction, that she couldn't think of
Clark as anything other than a friend, that it wasn't worth risking
friendship to try and prove otherwise.

********

A man in a large, leather chair sat looking out the picture window of
his office.  He could see all of Metropolis from this height.  A
light snow fell over the city.  It was growing dark out.  He pulled a
small cell phone out from within his jacket and punched a single
button.

"What do you have to report?" he asked irritably.  He listened to the
voice on the other end.  Whatever was being said certainly did
nothing to mollify him.  "And the losses from the Genzyme fiasco?" He
frowned and listened once again.  "Total, eh?...Can anything be
traced back to us?...So Fitzgerald is set to take the fall?... Any
chance that he'll talk?  Good...now tell me the whole week hasn't
been a total loss. What of the independent projects we've been
attempting to acquire?...Really?...Now that is interesting, indeed."
A small, insidious smile played upon the corners of his mouth as he
raised a cigar to his lips.

********

The weeks passed and Lois continued to make steady progress.  When
she was no longer exhibiting any signs of post concussion syndrome,
she began doing data analysis at home and was soon spending time in
the lab.  She slowly returned to work at MetroGen, spending a few
hours each day in the office, seeing patients, even though her
surgery schedule had to be completely reworked; even now that she was
more mobile, she couldn't stand for the long periods required for
surgery.  Her rounds in the ED had been divided up among the rest of
the cardiology staff in the department.  The recovery period was
frustrating.  Lois hated being treated like she was fragile and made
of glass, but she knew that she still wasn't able to return to her
normal workload.  Her ankle couldn't take the pressure of a full
day's work yet.  It had been three weeks since she'd been injured and
her injuries continued to interfere with almost every aspect of her life.
She had another week before the cast came off.  She figured she could
last that long.

Even though she was far more independent now, Clark still came by
every morning to pick her up and take her to work, and each day
around noon, he would drive her home. Lois handed over the keys to
the Jeep without much protest; Clark was one of about four people she
would allow to touch her prized automobile, but she still wasn't
happy about the idea of being chauffeured everywhere for the next 
month.  It would be a while before she could drive again.  As much as
she hated being dependent on anyone, she was happy to be able to
spend so much time with Clark.  Although he worried constantly about
how she was feeling, he never made her feel like an invalid.

It was a Tuesday morning, after the first real snow of the season, when
Clark arrived to pick Lois up as usual.  He drove slowly through the
snow; the roads were slippery, but he maneuvered the Jeep expertly.
He parked the Jeep in the doctors' lot and went around to the
passenger side to help Lois out.  They walked slowly toward the
hospital entrance when their conversation was interrupted by the revving
of an engine and the squeal of vulcanized rubber on asphalt as a brand
new Porsche came to a screeching halt in the lot.  They both turned
to look at a doctor of about thirty exit the automobile and stride
confidently toward the entrance, an arrogant smirk upon his face.
Clark didn't recognize the man, but noticed that his expression changed
upon seeing the pair.  He now wore a look of concern that Clark was
sure was practiced. As he picked up his pace, his eyes focused on
Lois.

"Oh God, Lois, I heard all about what that monster did to you," he
began.  He placed a hand upon her shoulder and stared right into her
eyes.  "Are you all right?"

Clark saw Lois turn away from the man's gaze.  "I'm fine, Craig," she replied.

Craig shifted his position to effectively cut Clark off, failing to
notice his presence entirely.  "Well, you know, if you need anything,
I'm always here." He placed a hand on Lois's cheek and leaned forward
and kissed the corner of her mouth.

Lois was caught completely off guard, and on her crutches was
rendered almost helpless to retreat as it was.  Craig pulled away
from her and smiled before turning toward the entrance and walking
through the automatic double doors, leaving a startled Lois Lane and
a seething Clark Kent in his wake.

With clenched teeth and tightened fists, Clark slowly counted to ten.
He didn't know Craig and he didn't like Craig.  Whoever he was, he
was arrogant and rude and, although whom Lois did or did not associate
with was none of his business, he couldn't help but feel both
jealousy and outrage at the way Craig had kissed Lois.  What was it
that gave him that right?  It was a privilege for which Clark had
yearned.  'Why him and not me?' he asked angrily.  Though he had to
admit that Lois had done nothing to welcome the kiss and she seemed
startled by it.

They walked silently the remainder of the way to Lois's office.
Clark returned several hours later to drive her home.  Nothing was
said on the way back to the Jeep.

As Clark turned to pull out of the parking lot, Lois broke the
silence.  "I'm sorry I didn't introduce you to Craig...."

"He didn't give you much of a chance," Clark laughed humorlessly.

"That...that was Craig Kensington.  He...he's an anesthesiologist
here.  We went out, years ago."

"I guess you guys must still be pretty close," Clark frowned as he
pulled up to a red light.  He was testing her, seeing if she would
take the bait.

"No, no not really," she replied, avoiding Clark's intense,
scrutinizing gaze.  "We haven't really talked much since we broke up.
That was two years ago."

"Is he always that friendly?" Clark asked.

"Craig is just, well, Craig," she replied cryptically.  Clark snorted
in response.  Lois had never seen Clark behave like this.  Was he
jealous?  "Craig is just used to getting what he wants, I guess." She
winced inwardly, realizing how Clark would most likely interpret her
comments.

'What was that supposed to mean?' he thought angrily.  'Was he used
to getting what he wanted from Lois?'

"He means well." She saw the burning look in Clark's eyes.  Wrong
word choice.  "But he's too self absorbed.  He never seems to notice
how what he says or does affects other people."

Clark didn't respond and turned his attention back to the road.  The
light had turned green and he crossed the intersection.

"He asked me to marry him."

"What?" Clark turned to look at Lois and nearly swerved into the next
lane, almost hitting another car.  He turned the wheel back and
straightened the car out.  "Sorry," he mumbled, trying to focus on
the road, trying not to let his emotions control his responses.

"I couldn't say yes.  I didn't love him.  I don't think he loved me
either.  He probably just thought it was the right thing to do.  We'd
been seeing each other for over three years.  I was from the right
kind of family, with the right career and the right connections and I
guess he had just always assumed...but I couldn't do it.  I couldn't
marry someone I didn't love.  I don't think he ever understood my
choice.  I know that I made the right decision. I'm sure of it now."

Clark's anger disappeared.  He marveled at how she'd confided so
completely in him.  'You have to know that I would love you,' he
thought.  'That I *do* love you, more than anything.'  He ached to
tell her, but said nothing.  He turned onto her street and pulled the
Jeep into the drive.  He helped her out of the car and into her
house, following her just a step behind as she hopped up the stairs
on the crutches.  He opened her bedroom door for her.

"I'm sorry, Clark," she whispered as she crossed the threshold

"What?"

"I've managed to burden you with all of my problems.  I don't know
how you put up with me." Her voice was small and she spoke softly.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked deep into her eyes.
"Lois, you could never be a burden, and I'm the one who acted like a
jerk. I should be the one apologizing."

"No, Clark.  You know that isn't true.  You're the kindest, most
selfless person I've ever met."  Her liquid brown eyes met his in an
intense gaze and he could see that she meant every word she said.

He reached out a tentative hand to gently caress her cheek.  She
closed her eyes and tilted her head, leaning into the contact.  She
tilted her chin upward to look into his eyes.  What she saw in them
stunned her.  The depth of his emotions was written clearly on his
face.  He leaned closer to her, his hand tilting her chin up slightly
as she moved closer to him.  Their lips were only inches apart.  She
could feel his warm breath and wanted desperately to crush her lips
against his, to taste him.  He closed the distance between them.  Her
heart pounded in anticipation.  She could almost feel his lips
against hers.

She turned away.  He pulled back, renewing the physical distance
between them in response to the emotional distance she had
constructed.  She looked down, unable to face him.  He tried to hide
the hurt and confusion in his expression.

"Lois, I'm sorry, I had no right...."

"No Clark, please," she pleaded.  "You don't understand, I...I can't."

"What?  What is it, Lois?  You can tell me.  Please, you can tell me
anything."  He placed a hand on her arm, begging her not to shut him
out.

"I'm afraid, Clark."  Their eyes locked.  She could see the change in
his expression as the words spilled from her lips.  She saw the pain
flash across his face.  He began to back away from her.

Clark felt his chest constrict and he couldn't breathe.  It was true.
She was afraid of him.  The nightmares, the time when she had run
from his embrace, her own words confirmed his own greatest fears.
She couldn't accept him, not in that way, not in that role.  How
could he expect any different, though?  He was a freak.  He wasn't
even human.  She had accepted him as a friend but asking any more of
her had been wrong.  But although he understood, her rejection of him
hurt terribly.  He stumbled backwards, needing to put even more
distance between them.  He didn't know what to say to her.  He needed
to get away from there.

"Clark, wait, please..." she pleaded with him.

"I'm sorry, Lois."  He shook his head and continued backing toward the
window.  He nearly stumbled over the chair in his path.  He looked
back at the open window behind him, and in an instant was gone.

"Clark!" she cried out after him, but he couldn't go back.

********

Lois watched as he stumbled backward, muttering apologies as he fled.
He found the welcoming exit and disappeared, never looking back.  She
felt her stomach tie itself in a knot as a horrible sense of déjà vu
struck her like a Mack truck.  'Great job, Lane,' the little voice
inside her mind taunted her.  'You didn't even have to sleep with
this one to drive him away.'  She stared at the empty space that
Clark had occupied only moments ago.  She wiped the heel of her hand
savagely at her eyes.  She was sick and tired of crying.  Lois limped
to the bed, dropping the crutches and collapsing onto the mattress.
She curled up in a ball, after what seemed like eternity, though it
was really only a few minutes, sleep took pity on Lois, and she
drifted off.

********

Clark careened through the gray winter sky.  He hadn't bothered to
change into the suit, depending upon the cloud cover to give him the
requisite camouflage.  Somewhere over the Atlantic, he changed
directions and flew straight up.  He stopped around the ionosphere,
where the molecules of air were spread thinly in a fuzzy layer that
separated Earth from space.  He looked outward to the darkened
nether-regions, speckled with tiny pinpoints of light and he cried
out in frustration.  His voice died on impact with the absolute
nothingness of space and all was silent.  He drifted aimlessly for
long minutes, with nothing but his own tortured thoughts to keep him
company.  Just when he thought he'd found somewhere that he could
belong, just when he thought he'd found a place where he could make
a home, he was reminded of the fact that he didn't fit in, that he
couldn't belong.

"Why?" he shouted at the infinite blackness that stretched in front
of him.  Why couldn't he just be normal?  Why couldn't he be like
everyone else?  Why was he forever cursed to be an outsider?  Fate
had played a cruel joke on him, he decided.  He was the most powerful
being in the world, and yet the only things he wanted were the only
things he could never have.  Adored and revered as Superman, the
incorruptible, stoical symbol of good, and respected as Dr. Clark
Kent, son of Kansas farmers, he could never truly be loved and
accepted for what he really was: not quite human.

He still had his parents.  They loved him.  They accepted him.  But
even the unconditional love of his mother and father wasn't enough to
fill the void in his life.  They couldn't erase the need to belong.
He laughed humorlessly as he wondered which part of his life was the
bigger lie - Clark Kent or Superman.  At least as Superman he
admitted openly that he wasn't normal.  He didn't feel like he was
trying to infiltrate a group of which he could never be a part.  He
was an outsider, but that was okay.  People knew and they accepted
it.  And even though the hero in the blue and red suit, the serious,
somber champion of truth and justice, the demigod that lived a life
free of human wants and desires, was not who he was, he couldn't deny
the fact that as Clark Kent, he also pretended to be something he
wasn't.  He pretended to be like everyone else: just an average,
everyday, ordinary man.  Being Clark Kent didn't feel like an act.
He'd been raised as Clark, his values, thoughts, hopes, and dreams
all products of his upbringing, but he still used his identity to
deceive people.  And when someone finally saw through his deception,
it was at once the most thrilling and terrifying thing in the world.
Lois had discovered the truth about him. She had seen through the
illusion, the façade that he wore, and for the first time in his
life, he had someone else to confide in.  He could be himself with
her.  He could be honest with her--about almost everything.  There
was one thing that should have stayed hidden.  He had tried to bury
his feelings for her, but with no success.  He couldn't hide the way
he felt and he had crossed the line.  She had offered her friendship,
and he'd greedily tried to twist it into something more.  He felt an
almost incapacitating ache in his gut.  He tried to remember the last
time he'd felt physical pain.  'This is probably what it feels like
to get kicked in the stomach,' he thought.

Knowing that he frightened her made him ill.  But he couldn't blame
her.  How could she not fear him?  He may have looked human but he
certainly wasn't.  Even if she could somehow accept the fact that he
wasn't human, how could she help but be afraid that he would hurt
her?  She had witnessed him crush steel as though it were Styrofoam.
She had every right to be terrified of him.  He had never physically
hurt anyone before, but even if all that was holding her back was a
fear of his strength, he still couldn't offer her many reassurances.
He wasn't even sure he could make love to a woman.  He had had
girlfriends before, but it had never been an issue.  He had never
felt strongly enough about a woman to give himself completely to her.
He had often wondered idly if he was even capable of love.  Lois had
destroyed every one of his doubts on that subject.  He loved her
completely.

He spun into the suit.  His mind was flying in circles and he was
accomplishing nothing.  The least he could do was patrol while
mentally berating himself.  He took off for Metropolis, the earth
shattering sonic boom that was normally left in his wake died quietly
as the sound waves rippled against the thinly spread molecules and
into the vacuum of space.

********

He sat beside a roaring fire in an oversized armchair, his feet
propped up on an Ottoman, a glass of a rich Merlot in one hand, the
evening Daily Planet in the other.  He tossed the paper into the
flames and the pages were quickly consumed in the conflagration.
Black ashes rose into the flue as the smell of burning newsprint
filled the room.

"'Superman saves the day again!'" he mocked.  "'City has new favorite son!'"

"Sir, if I may...."

"Thanks to this...this Superman," he said contemptuously.  "All
biochemical projects with Ft. Truman have now been frozen.   Have you
any idea how much this is going to set back LexLabs this year?" He
continued without waiting for a response.  "And do you know what the
salt in the wound is, Nigel?  Do you know what the ultimate indignity
is?  This freak in tights who has paraded onto the scene has given
every single exclusive to the Daily Planet and I'm now reading about
my own companies and their woes in the Daily Planet while ratings for
my own news networks are at an all-time low.  But enough of this. I
cannot allow these minor details to divert my attention from more
pressing matters.  What of the development plans for Lex Harbor?"

"Sir," the cultured voice of an educated Englishman began.  "We have
not been able to secure the requisite property in West River."

"I'm sorry, Nigel, but I believe you just said that you failed to buy
out the real estate.  Please tell me that I'm mistaken."

"No, sir, you are not.  The remaining tenants proved rather
unyielding in their positions."

"Impossible!  Those people should be terrified by now.  Intensify the
arson campaign."

"We already attempted that, sir."

"Then escalate street crime, more overt threats of violence, anything!"

"We've tried all of those things.  Superman increased his patrols in
West River.  Thanks to his efforts, there is currently a shortage of
mindless thugs in Metropolis willing to continue the attacks on the
region.  As a result, crime rates have dropped precipitously; even
crime rings in West River not under our control are no longer
functioning.  The Metros, sir, are all but defunct.  Consequently, we
have been unsuccessful in buying out any more property owners.  Several of
those who had agreed to sell but had not signed contracts rescinded
their agreements.  Three transactions have been halted in escrow."

"Enough!" He stood from his chair and swirled the wine in the goblet
before turning and dashing the glass against the fireplace.  The
glass shattered and the fire hissed as wine dripped down the stone
wall of the fireplace and into the flames.  "This Superman has made
himself into more than just a simple nuisance."  His dark expression
was replaced by a thoughtful and pensive frown.  "He will no doubt
prove a worthy adversary, but we maintain one advantage over him
Nigel; we have identified this foe, we know the threats he poses to
us.  Mine are as yet concealed from him.   And so, I must continue to
disguise my intentions, for to take him on openly without a better
understanding of the enemy would be suicide."  Lex Luthor's lips
curled into a feral grin.

"What are you planning, sir?"

"Why, to match his own disgusting goodness with my own, of course,
Nigel.  'But then I sigh; and, with a piece of scripture, Tell them
that God bids us do good for evil: And thus I clothe my naked
villainy with old odd ends stolen out of holy writ; And seem a saint,
when most I play the devil.'"

"Very good, sir."  Nigel smiled a cold and cunning smile.

********

The next morning, a public 'thank you' on behalf of all the citizens
of Metropolis to Superman was included in every major newspaper,
courtesy of Lex Luthor.  LNN also ran spots with the famed
billionaire issuing a personal thank you to the Man of Steel for his
efforts.  Luthor also used the opportunity to declare his intent to
donate sums totaling over seven million dollars to the children's
wards of the major hospitals of Metropolis.  He issued a personal
invitation to Superman to attend a formal reception for the check
presentations, and expressed his deep desire that the super hero
attend.

Metropolis's finest caterers and event planners were called on behalf
of Luthor Enterprises and informed that they had forty eight hours to
prepare for the event.  Invitations were hand delivered by ten that
morning.  Lex smiled as he looked out the window at the cold and
dreary morning from the comfort of his office.

********

Clark hovered over Lois's home early that morning.  He wasn't spying,
exactly, but he had realized the night before that he couldn't
effectively avoid Lois.  As independent as she was, she was still
unable to get to work without help.  He was relieved when Lucy Lane
arrived around eight that morning.  He had run from Lois like an
invertebrate, but his guilt was somewhat tempered by the fact that
she hadn't been completely stranded by his desertion.  He lingered
overhead for a moment before flying back to the hospital.  He had
firmly decided to ignore all calls for help that could be dealt with
by emergency services while he was on call in the ED, but those few
random times when he'd been torn from the hospital for a few moments
just so that he could defuse the worst of a situation were starting
to catch up to him.  Absence was not an option for an Emergency
Department doctor.  When absolutely necessary, he would duck out for
a moment to help before racing back.  But when things in the ED were
bad, he would sometimes hear and have to ignore cries that he would have
otherwise answered.  It was the most difficult thing to do.  He felt
as though he were playing God, deciding whom to help and whose cries he
just couldn't answer, but he repeated the manta that all doctors in
Emergency Departments learned, 'I'm doing the best I can and that is
all I can ask of myself.  I can't save everyone.'

Luckily, the growth and success of his research project had allowed
him to dedicate most of his working hours to the lab, where he could
come and go as he pleased.  He spent only a few shifts a week in the
ED now and usually managed to get assigned to the quieter hours,
which was possible when one volunteered for the half shifts from four
in the morning until eight a.m., the shifts no one else wanted.

He gave up his station above Lois's home and flew back to the hospital.

********

"Ready to go, Lois?" Lucy asked.

Lois dumped out the remains of a cup of coffee, rinsed the mug and
left it in the sink.  She walked to where Lucy was waiting by the
door.  She waved off Lucy's proffered arm as she navigated the icy
walkway to Lucy's car.

"How much longer on those things?" her younger sister inquired.

"The cast comes off tomorrow," Lois replied.  "I get to move up to an
air cast then."  Lucy unlocked the doors and the two women got into
the car.  Lois tried to steer the conversation to what was going on
in Lucy's life.

Lucy pulled up her car in the doctors' lot, near the entrance to the
hospital.  "So what happened between you and Clark?" she asked matter
of factly.

"What?  Nothing.  What makes you think something happened?" Lois
babbled nervously.

"Come on, sis.  It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's
crazy about you, and he's been following you around practically like
a puppy dog these last few weeks.  It's positively adorable how he's
been taking care of you.  Then this morning, you call, needing a ride
to work.  I figured Clark had been driving you in. "

"That's ridiculous, Lucy.  Clark does not follow me around.  If you
must know, he was busy this morning," Lois lied unconvincingly.

"Fine, sis, deny it all you want, but you're not fooling anyone, not
even Mom and Dad.  By the way, they absolutely adore Clark.  They
think he's wonderful, and I called Dad this morning after you called
to let him know I was driving you to work and that I'd be late for
breakfast and he wanted to know what you'd done to scare poor Clark
away."

"Oh, so now they're on his side, huh?" Lois fumed, she realized a
moment too late what she had just said.

"So you did have a fight with Clark!"  Lucy suppressed a smile. As
much of an accomplishment as it was to trick Lois like that, she had
no desire to hold it over her sister's head.

"What?  No.  Well, it wasn't a fight exactly...."

Lucy's expression became more serious.  She placed a reassuring hand
on her older sister's shoulder.  "You don't have to tell me if you
don't want to, but I'm here if you want to talk about it, sis."

"Thanks, Lucy, I appreciate it.  I can't talk about it, not yet anyway."

Lucy nodded her understanding and got out to help Lois exit the car.
Lois insisted she would be fine getting to the office and shooed her
sister off.  Lois walked through the halls, recently decorated for
the holiday season, to her office.  Mrs. O'Neil bid her a good
morning and handed her a stack of mail as well as messages.  Lois
carried the stack to her desk and sat to flip through it.  Amidst the
magazines, journals, and statements was a small envelope with 'LL'
stamped in gold foil where the return address should have been.  She
turned the envelope over and opened it.  It was an invitation.


Dear Dr. Lane,

Mr. Lex Luthor requests the honor of your presence at his penthouse
home at seven o'clock in the evening on the 20th of December, 1996
for a special reception and check presentation ceremony for his
donations to the children's wards at Metropolis General Hospital, Our
Lady of Mercy Hospital and Metropolis University Hospital.

Underneath the neat script was a handwritten message:

Dr. Lane,

I do hope that you can make it.  I have heard wonderful things about
your work and I am truly looking forward to meeting you.

Lex Luthor

Lois shook her head.  She didn't remember hearing about any donation
from Luthor to the hospital.  She checked the date on her calendar.
The 20th was this Friday, only two days away.  She picked up the
crutches and walked into the reception area.

"Mrs. O'Neil?"

"Yes, Dr. Lane?" Mrs. O'Neil inquired.

"Yes, could you tell me when this arrived?" Lois asked, holding up
the little envelope.

"It was hand delivered by a courier this morning."

"Thank you," Lois turned and headed back into her office.  She
returned to her desk and concentrated on her work.  She had several
patients to see and needed to review their files.

Sam Lane arrived at Lois's office early that afternoon to drive Lois
home.  Lois managed to keep the topic of conversation focused on the
invitations that both had received for Lex Luthor's reception, in order
to avoid discussing why Clark wasn't the one driving her home today.
She hadn't seen him at work at all that day, but that was due mostly to
the fact that she'd holed herself up in her office for the entire time
she was there.

She checked the messages on her machine.  Her lawyer had called.
Apparently, they needed her to give a deposition for the Genzyme case.
He told her to expect a call in January from the DA's office, but
urged her to contact him before that so that they could talk.  She
sighed.  She wanted to put the whole business with Genzyme behind her,
but Lois knew that her testimony would be vital to ensuring that
those responsible were brought to justice.

She spent the rest of the afternoon catching up with the latest
developments with the research project, but she couldn't help but
think about what had happened the previous day between her and Clark.
She was so confused.  She still wasn't sure how she had managed to
drive him away so quickly.  She must have misjudged his intentions.
She must have seen something that wasn't there.  She had thought that
she understood Clark, and that she knew what it was that he wanted,
but she had become so confused over the last few weeks.  She had been
sure that friendship was all he wanted, up until a few weeks ago,
anyway.  Suddenly, she was almost as convinced that there could have
been something else, something more between them.  Maybe she had
overestimated the strength of his feelings, but that still didn't
explain what had happened.  What had scared him off so quickly?  He
didn't even wait around long enough to hear what she was trying to
say.  Was he afraid of what she was going to tell him?  What did he
think she was going to say?  She shook her head, unable to make any
sense of the situation.  Lois looked at her watch; it was just after
six.  She picked up the phone.

"Hello?'

"Lucy?"

"What's up, sis?"

"Is that offer to talk still on the table?"

"Of course it is.  I just dropped off my thesis at the binders.  Why
don't I pick you up and we can talk over a cup of coffee.  Sound good?"

"Yeah, Luce.  Thanks."

"No problem, sis.  I'll be over in a little while."

Lois hung up the phone, already feeling better.  She obviously
couldn't tell Lucy everything, but she needed to talk to someone and
she knew that her sister would listen and do everything she could to
help.

Lucy drove them to Natale's where they ordered the usual and sat on
their regular sofa.  "So what happened?" Lucy asked quietly.

Lois sipped her coffee thoughtfully.  "I don't know, Luce.  The last
few weeks Clark and I have gotten closer.  I care about Clark.  He's
my best friend, but I wanted something more than just friendship with
him.  Up until a few weeks ago, I was sure that friendship was what
Clark wanted.  But lately, I just didn't know.  The way he acted
around me, I couldn't help but think that there could be something
more between us, but he was so reluctant, so I figured I was wrong.
And then yesterday, well, we ran into Craig outside the hospital.
Craig kinda acted like a jerk and it upset Clark.  I'd never seen him
act jealous before that.  He was so tense on the way home.  He took
me home, and we almost kissed...."

"But you couldn't do it, could you?"

"How did you...."

"Because I know you, Lois.  And because I know how much you care about Clark."

"It doesn't make any sense, does it?" Lois shook her head.

"No, it makes perfect sense, Lois.  You're afraid of what will happen
if you let Clark get close to you.  You're afraid of getting hurt."

"I guess I am afraid of letting Clark in, but not for that reason.
I'm not afraid of him hurting me."

"Then what is it, sis?"

"I'm afraid of hurting Clark."

"Lois, I hardly think that you'd intentionally do anything to hurt Clark...."

"I don't know if I can explain it, Luce."

"Can you try?"

"What?  Yeah, I guess so.  It's just that, with everything that's
happened lately, with Danny's murder, and all, I've been having these
nightmares, and in them, I keep confusing Danny with Clark and I'm so
afraid that what happened with Danny will happen to Clark...."

Lucy shook her head, thoroughly puzzled.  "You're afraid that Clark
is going to die, and that somehow, you're going to be to blame?  I
don't understand, sis."

"No, no, it's nothing like that, Lucy.  Well, not really, anyway."  She
sighed.  "You were too young at the time so I never told you why
Danny and I had that falling out in college."  She proceeded to tell
Lucy what had happened to destroy their friendship.

Lucy listened quietly as her sister told the story.  Finally, she
spoke.  "Lois, it doesn't sound to me like you hit Danny over the
head with a club and dragged him to bed.  You can't take all the
blame for what happened, you were both responsible and you both made
a mistake.  You can't use that as an excuse for shutting people out
of your life forever."

"I know, Lucy, I mean, I guess you're right.  Even still, I don't know
if I can undo what happened yesterday."

"Why?  What was so terrible about yesterday?"

"When I couldn't kiss Clark, he asked me what was wrong.  He looked so
hurt, Lucy.  I tried to tell him, but the moment I started to
explain, he started apologizing and he just ran away.  I don't know
what I could have said to him to make him react like that."

"Well, what did you say?"

"I was trying to tell him that I was afraid, but he wouldn't let me
say anything else."

"Do you have any idea what he could have thought that you meant?"

"I don't know, Luce, I don't know."

"You have to talk to him, Lois.  You care about him too much to just
let him go like this, and don't try to deny it, either."  Lucy gave
her sister a knowing smile.  "And whether or not you want to believe
it, Clark is crazy about you.  I think everyone in Metropolis has
realized that except you, sis."

********

Clark busied himself with his Superman duties as much as possible.
Things had quieted down in West River, but he still managed to find
ways to help whenever possible.  He took every opportunity to remind
the criminal elements in Metropolis that he was watching.  Being
Superman had involved more 'crime fighting' than Clark had initially
expected.  He had planned on limiting himself to what he knew-helping
people with medical emergencies--but he quickly realized that
there was so much he could do to protect people from crime as well.

Since Lex Luthor's public messages to Superman, Clark found himself
with the one thing that he already had too much of: press attention.
He hadn't been able to avoid the media for long and eventually
decided to accept Luthor's invitation to the reception.  If the
city's most well known philanthropist wanted his help for a good
cause, why shouldn't he help?  He realized that his involvement with
Luthor's donation would encourage others to contribute to Luthor's
cause and he knew better than almost anyone that the children's wards
in the hospitals of Metropolis could use the money.

********

The rest of the week passed and Lois didn't see Clark except on
television and on the front page of the Daily Planet.  She had heard
that he was planning to attend the reception that night.  She wanted to
tell him how proud she was of him and everything he was doing for
Metropolis, but they hadn't spoken in days.  He never seemed to be
around.  She stopped by his office that morning and had apparently
"just missed him."

She was busy getting dressed for the reception, as her father would be
by to pick her up in an hour.  She was relieved that the reception
called for business attire as opposed to formal wear.  She would have
felt absolutely ridiculous in a formal dress with her air cast.
Instead, she opted for a pantsuit and the only pair of acceptable
shoes that she owned that would go over the air cast.  She finished
getting ready and walked slowly down the stairs, holding onto the
banister.  She was glad to finally be rid of the crutches.

She sat down to watch the news, knowing it would be a bad idea.  She
saw a clip of Superman's latest rescues, and she wondered what he was
doing right now.  Was he flying his patrols?  Was he at home?  Was he
getting ready for the big evening?  Surely he had to know what a big
deal tonight was, how much attention would be drawn to the cause
because of his association with it.  She heard the doorbell ring.
Daddy was there.  She sighed as she turned off the television and got
up to answer the door.

********

"Dr. Lane!" Both Lois and her father looked up as someone called out
across the grand reception room of the Lex Corp building.

"Dr. Peterson!" Sam Lane replied as he recognized the man moving
through the crowd toward them.  Her father and his colleague soon
took their leave of Lois as they discussed something to which she was
paying no particular attention.  She surveyed the room, a bored look
on her face.  She watched as a man descended the staircase that led
to the top floor penthouse of the building.  Everyone he passed
stopped whatever he or she was doing or saying to turn and greet him
politely.  She recognized him immediately as the host of this
particular get-together.  She was surprised to see him walk straight
toward her and was caught completely off guard when he greeted her.

"Dr. Lane, I'm so very glad you could make it," he smiled.

"I'm happy to be here, Mr. Luthor. Yours is a wonderful cause," she replied.

"Isn't it, though?" he smiled again, but she looked instead at his
eyes.  His gaze, scrutinizing and unwavering, was directed toward
her.  She felt uncomfortable under his questioning stare.  "Dr.
Lane," he began.  "I understand you've been having some funding
problems with your project.  I've read all about your work and must
say that I'm intrigued by what you and your father have accomplished.
It's no less than sheer brilliance, Lois. May I call you Lois?" When she
nodded, he continued.  "I believe I am in a position to ensure that
you and your father will be able to continue your work unhindered and 
unencumbered by financial concerns.  I would very much like to speak 
with
you about a possible partnership...."

"Mr. Luthor..."

"Lex, please," he corrected, favoring her with another of his charming grins.

"Lex," she repeated.  "That is a very generous offer, but I'm afraid
that I will have to discuss it further with my father.  He and I are
a team and it would be wrong of me to offer you any premature
assurances without consulting him."

"Of course, I completely understand, Lois, and I wouldn't have it any
other way, believe me.  I respect and admire your father's work.  He
is a man with a vision, and this is ultimately a decision for the two
of you.  I just thought that I'd offer to you this potential option."

"Thank you, Lex."

He nodded graciously.  "Would it be all right if I called you?" He
wore a cunning, crafty expression.

"Certainly," she replied with a knowing smile of her own.  She wasn't
sure what he was implying, but was not about to let Lex Luthor get
the upper hand.  "I believe you have the number of the lab." She
paused for a moment but he gave no reaction.  "It has been very nice
meeting you, Lex."

He took her hand in both of his and raised it to his lips. "Believe
me, the pleasure was all mine." He smiled like a man who had just
played a trick on the entire world as he receded into the crowd.

Lois had to repress a shiver as he walked away.  Her first encounter
with Lex Luthor had lasted about five minutes and she had already
deduced that he was a very charming man...and that she could trust
him about as far as she could throw him.

Moments after Lex's departure, Lois heard someone call out "Superman!"
from across the room.  All eyes turned toward the large windows as
the blue and red clad hero alighted upon the balcony.  Superman
opened the large French doors and entered.  The crowds around him
parted like the Red Sea had for a particular, determined prophet.  The
conversations in the room subsided into softly spoken murmurs as he
strode purposefully across the room.

"Superman!" Lex called out.  "So good of you to come!" The
billionaire extended his hand to the Man of Steel.  "Ladies and
gentlemen, Superman!"

The room burst into applause.  Clark shook Lex Luthor's proffered
hand.  All eyes were on him and he couldn't think of a thing to say.
The room suddenly became silent, and he cleared his throat.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," he began.  "I'm very happy to be here
tonight to help Mr. Luthor with his wonderful cause.  I encourage all
of you to follow Mr. Luthor's example and support the hospitals of
Metropolis that serve our city and care for our children."  The crowd
burst into another round of applause.  Clark surveyed the room.
Amidst the large crowd, he found her, clapping politely, with a wane
smile upon her lips, wearing an almost wistful expression.  He
decided to act upon the better part of valor and made his way to the
exit.  It would do no good for people to wonder what Superman was
standing around gazing at all evening.  Mr. Luthor intercepted him
and thanked him again for coming.  Clark reiterated that he was happy
to help in any way he could and expressed his own thanks for what the
city's greatest philanthropist was doing.  He made his way back to
the balcony and lifted off slowly before rocketing across the cold
winter night's sky.

Clark tried to clear his mind as he flew his patrols that night, but
he couldn't stop thinking about Lois.  The criminals of Metropolis no
doubt noticed that night that Superman was in a particularly rotten
mood.  On several occasions, he simply grabbed suspects in the act
and dumped them in front of the nearest police officers.  It was
almost dawn when he finished patrolling.  He went home, turned the
ringer off on his phone and went straight to bed.  It was his day off
and he wanted to sleep.  He had finished his Christmas shopping long
ago so a low-key day was a reasonable option, so long as the more shady
and nefarious denizens of Metropolis didn't interfere with his plans.

********

Lois took advantage of the weekend to finish the Christmas shopping
she had put off to the last minute.  She fought the crowds in
Metropolis's malls all day Saturday and most of Sunday as well.  She
returned to her house Sunday afternoon and noticed the blinking red
light on her answering machine.  She checked the messages and was
surprised to hear Dr. Davis's voice.

"Dr. Lane, this is Dr. Davis. I'm calling because Dr. Richardson will
no longer be able to attend the Cardiology seminar series in Auckland
next week.  I understand that this is short notice, but the hospital
wants you to take Dr. Richardson's place.  You leave Thursday evening
and the conference will last two weeks.  It's all expenses paid, of
course, and this is considered a paid business trip on behalf of the
hospital.  I'm sure you know how important this conference is, Dr.
Lane.  If you have any questions, feel free to call me.  You have my
number."

"Who is that woman kidding?" Lois spat angrily.  That Thursday?  That
was the day after Christmas.  She didn't have time for this.  She
couldn't just skip out for two weeks to go to some conference.  Who
held conferences this time of year anyway?  She had laughed months
ago when she heard about this.  Some bright fellow must have decided
that a conference over New Year's would be a fantastic idea.  Lois
had been relieved when it appeared as though Dr. Richardson would be
attending, ensuring that MetroGen would be properly represented and
absolving her of any duties to the whole silly affair.  This would
set Lois's research back even further and her father had already had
to do too much of the work as of late.  Still fuming, Lois found her
notes and retreated to the study.

Monday was spent in the lab and reworking her schedule.  Her
appointment book had already been dragged through the wringer several
times as it was.  Tuesday was Christmas Eve and Lois decided to put
in a half day at work although she hadn't been planning on it earlier.

********

"This is completely unacceptable!"  A stack of hapless papers was
flung against the far wall, and individual sheets fluttered to the
ground.  "The closure of the Ft. Truman lab must be part of the
alien's plan.  He obviously wishes to render us defenseless to his
invading hordes."

"Sir?" a young man in a neat military uniform attempted to get his
commanding officer's attention.

"What is it?!"

"We do have some good news, sir.  We have made a positive match with
a sighting and craft recovery from somewhere in Kansas." The young
man looked through the folder in his hand.  "Here it is. Smallville,
Kansas, 1966.  The craft recovered has an emblem on it that matches
Superman's 'S' shield."

"Get on with it, Lieutenant!  We know all of this already!"

"Sorry, sir.  Alongside the craft that was recovered in October of
that year were several unidentified meteorites.  They were sent in
for analysis and our scientists have been working with them ever
since.  We hypothesize that these meteorites, which produce ultra low
frequency radiation, could be poisonous to the alien.  Prolonged
exposure could, in fact, prove fatal."

"Why wasn't I informed of these developments?!"

"Well, sir, the theory is still just that, a theory.  But it is a
strong one, and it is the best chance we have against the alien at
this time."

"Are you prepared to test this hypothesis of yours, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, we're in the process of perfecting a delivery system for the
agent.  We've managed to suspend it as an aerosol. We believe it will
be most effective in that medium."

"So how much longer?"

"Sir, with the closure of Ft. Truman, we'll be set back at least a few months."

"Unacceptable, Lieutenant!"

"Sir, we don't have a delivery system for the aerosol."

"Surely the United States Military is capable of delivering a
poisonous gas to a single target, Lieutenant."

"Sir, the current delivery system for such an agent is privately
patented and would need to be modified for this particular aerosol."

"Who holds the patent?"

"Lex Labs, sir."

"Then set up a meeting with Mr. Luthor for me for tomorrow, Lieutenant."

"Sir?"

"What is it?"

"Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, sir. Mr. Luthor may not be amenable to
meeting tomorrow."

"I don't care what tomorrow is, Lieutenant.  Are you telling me that
you would sacrifice our planet to some alien race in order to drink
egg nog and sing inane Christmas carols, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir."

"Then get the hell out of here."

The Lieutenant saluted crisply and exited the office.  Colonel Jason
Trask took his seat behind his desk.  His eyes narrowed as he thought
about the so-called "Superman" and the invading race he represented.
'I'm not about to let you colonize this planet with your "advanced
race."  We won't prove so easy to conquer, my arrogant friend,' Trask
thought to himself.

********

Clark spent Monday in the lab and made several appearances at local
charities.  Thankfully, the holiday season had resulted in fewer
serious crimes this year, leaving Clark only petty thefts to deal
with among his more enjoyable responsibilities.  Though he hadn't
fully anticipated them, his activities in the suit not directly
related to emergencies were among the best parts of his second job.
He got a kick out of pulling a sled laden down with toys to the
Metropolis children's home and his visit to the children in
Metropolis's hospitals had not only brightened their spirits, but his
as well.

********

"Mr. Luthor?"

"What is it?" Lex asked, irritated as he punched the intercom button
on his phone.  He'd asked not to be interrupted today.

"There is a Col. Trask here to see you, sir."

"I've no appointments scheduled for today," Luthor responded curtly.

"I know, sir, but he claims that it is a matter of national security
and he is being rather persistent."

"Send him in, then," Lex responded, mildly intrigued.

A stern looking, middle-aged man made his way into Luthor's office.
Lex stood from his desk, silently sizing up his visitor.  "Col.
Trask, is it?"

"Yes, Mr. Luthor, that is correct."

"Have a seat, please, Col. Trask."  Lex gestured to one of the chairs
across from his desk.  "What can I do for you, Colonel?"

"I know about your involvement with Genzyme, Mr. Luthor."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I know about your contracts with the United States Military, both
the legitimate ones and those under the table."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Lex replied flatly.

"There's no reason to deny it, Mr. Luthor. I'm not here to threaten you."

"Really?" Lex replied cynically.  "Well, it certainly does appear
otherwise, I'm afraid."

"I'm here to make a proposition to you, Mr. Luthor, one I'm convinced
you cannot reject.  I know how much the alien's meddling cost you in
the Genzyme affair."

"By 'alien,' I assume you are referring to Superman."

"Yes, if that is what the arrogant menace wishes to refer to himself
as, so be it.  You are not alone in your opinion that the alien is a
threat to our society.  He is a danger to our very way of life, Mr.
Luthor.  As the front man for an invading race, he's here no doubt,
to earn our trust before his kind arrives like a plague of locusts to
descend upon our planet and colonize it.  He must be stopped."

"Let's just say that I agree with you, that this, Superman, needs to
be eliminated.  How exactly do you propose to do it?"  Luthor's eyes
narrowed as he leaned over his desk to stare Trask straight in the
eye.  Trask didn't flinch.

"With this."  Trask held up a small, closed-glass vial containing a
fine powder, which glowed a sickly green.

"And what is that?" Luthor asked incredulously.

"It is a radioactive substance, completely innocuous to humans, but it
is believed to be the only thing that can kill the alien."

"What proof do you have?"

"We have no concrete proof, but we can link this meteorite with the
alien's arrival on earth, and almost thirty years of testing has given
us the necessary data to conclude that this substance could be
potentially fatal to the alien given prolonged exposure."

"So if you can kill the alien, what do you need me for?"

"The delivery system, Mr. Luthor.  The one Lex Labs designed for the
US Army years ago.  We need a modified aerosol delivery system to
ensure the most potent exposure."

"Col. Trask, obviously you are a man with considerable power.  You
have access to information that is highly classified.  Surely you
could have simply broken into the patent office and stolen the plans."

"There is a time and place for overt uses of power and influence, Mr.
Luthor, and there are times when a low profile and prudence best
serve men."

"Truly wise counsel, Col. Trask.  Let me just say that I am intrigued
by your offer.  I will be in touch, Col. Trask." With that, Lex stood
to escort his visitor out of his office.

********

Christmas Eve, Clark found himself in the ED again.  He had managed
to pull another less than choice shift, but because the city had been
relatively crime free that evening, it wasn't a terrible thing.  He
called his parents and told them to expect him in the morning instead
of that night.

The ED was relatively quiet that afternoon.  Clark arrived at four,
ready for his ten-hour shift.  He changed into his scrubs and washed.
The ED, along with the rest of the hospital, had been decorated for
the holidays, though the usually busy and tense atmosphere had made
the differences go unnoticed.  The stillness of the afternoon was
shattered when paramedics called in the arrival of multiple victims
of a car accident, three of whom were in critical condition.  Doctors and
nurses began scrambling to prepare the operating rooms.  A man with
the most serious injuries was rushed toward OR 3.  Clark, Brett
Hoffman, and several interns flanked the gurney as they wheeled him
to the operating room.

"...authorities are attempting to contact Superman in a desperate
plea for assistance...." A female voice from a TV in a distant waiting
room suddenly caught his attention.  It was a subway wreck, and a bad
one, in downtown Washington.  His heart sank.  Dozens of people would
die if he didn't go, but what about the man right here, who was
depending on the ED staff to save his life?  Clark couldn't leave.
His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to figure out what to do.

********

Lois was walking out of the hospital when she heard the Code Green.
She rushed back into the ED as fast as she could.  She wasn't on
call, but she knew that she could be of some help.  She entered to
see Clark and Brett, as well as several others, moving a man on a
gurney toward OR 3.  She noticed immediately that something wasn't
right.  Clark's head was tilted slightly to the side and he had a
familiar, distant expression on his face.  She realized that he was
hearing something.  She watched as his eyes widened in horror.
Whatever it was, it must have been awful.  She started after them as
fast as she could move.  She entered the OR to see Clark nervously
trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Get me two units of O negative, stat!"

"On three everyone. Ready, one, two, three." Several pairs of hands
gently and efficiently moved the victim to the table.

"Kent!" Lois yelled as she pushed her way through the double doors.

Clark's head snapped up.  She could see the look of unease on his face.

"You messed up the admitting forms for your last patient. Admitting
needs to know the correct blood type, now!"

Clark gave her a puzzled look for a moment.  "Just go!" she growled,
though her eyes were silently pleading with him.  "I'll cover you,
just hurry up!" Lois pushed off her lab coat as she spoke.

Their eyes met and Clark understood what she meant.  She was giving
him an excuse to leave.  He didn't know how she knew, but he was
grateful.  He nodded and rushed out of the OR, thanking Providence
for allowing Lois to pass by at that time and realize that something
was wrong.

"All right, people, let's move!" he heard Lois bark from within the
operating room as he ducked away to change.

********

"Nigel."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor?"

"Inform the project's chief at Lex Labs that they have a new top
priority project that they will begin work on immediately.  Pull up
the specs on the aerosol delivery system we developed for the
military and find out everything you can on a Colonel Trask, United
States Army."

"Very well, sir."

Nigel silently slipped out of his employer's office.  Lex spun around
in his chair to face the large window looking out over the city.
Snowflakes swirled and danced on a slight wind as they descended to
the city streets.  Lex swirled his Brandy Alexander in its highball
glass as he took another puff from a Cuban cigar.  He waved the cigar
through the cloud of gray smoke.  "It's beginning to look a lot like
Christmas..." he sang, a wide grin stretched across his face.

********

Lois's ankle was throbbing but she simply took a couple of aspirin
and ignored it.  Whatever had torn Clark from the ED must have been
terrible.  He had been gone for hours.  During a lull, she had called
her father to apologize for not being there when he arrived to pick
her up that afternoon.  Her half day at the office was turning into a
marathon in the ED.  She worked late into the night, completing
Clark's shift.  In all the confusion that was the Emergency
Department, no one stopped to wonder where Dr. Kent had gone.  It was
past two in the morning when Lois called a cab and left for home,
completely worn out.

********

Martha bustled around the kitchen, preparing Christmas dinner.  Her
mood was slightly more somber than it normally was on Christmas morning.
She was disappointed that Clark hadn't made it the previous evening for
church services, but she was far more concerned with how her son was doing.
It was barely light out but she'd been up for hours getting
everything ready.  She had watched him on the news, horrified by the
extent of the tragedy.  Superman had left the scene of the accident
hours ago and she knew it would only be a short while before her boy
arrived.  She knew Clark would be taking it hard, but that he would
pretend everything was okay for their sake.  Leave it to her
stubborn, pig-headed son to try to hide his pain from his parents.
He should have known better by now.   He couldn't fool them, and yet
he continued to try.

********

Clark flew against the gray backdrop of the pre-dawn sky as he headed
home.  He wanted to take a long, hot shower and just fall into bed.
The subway wreck had been terrible, but it could have been far worse.
There would have been scores more casualties had he not arrived when
he did.  He sent up another silent prayer of thanks for the diversion
that had allowed him to leave the ED and arrive in time.  He tried,
with little success, not to think about those who had died, but
instead about those who he'd been able to help.  All of those people
were still alive because Lois had somehow recognized that all was not
well and she had intervened to allow him to go.  In a very real way,
all of those people were alive because of Lois; because she had come
to his rescue that day, because she had encouraged him to become
Superman, because she had believed in him.

He realized that he didn't want to live his life without her in it.
Even if he could never be more than her friend, he needed to have
that much.  He would gladly fill any role in her life that she
offered him, but he needed her friendship, her support, her help.  He
didn't know if he could be Superman without her.

He had to talk to her.  He had to make things right again.  He just
hoped that she would listen to him.  The sun would be up soon and it
was Christmas.  His parents would be expecting him in a few hours.
Tomorrow.  Tomorrow he would talk to her.

********

Lois spent another holiday with her extended family.  Uncle Mike,
Uncle Perry, Aunt Alice, Jerry and Larry all gathered at Lois's
parents' home.  Lucy was there, though Scott was spending the
holidays with his parents in San Francisco.  Everyone was happily
enjoying the holiday and the home was full of laughter and good
cheer, but Lois couldn't shake a particularly annoying feeling.  She
couldn't help but think about the present, still sitting at home.
The one she had wrapped up weeks ago.  The one that was still waiting
to be delivered.  She wondered about Clark: how he was doing, what he
was thinking.  He was probably spending Christmas with his parents.
She had heard about the subway accident, about how terrible it was.
She hoped that he was all right.  'Why, Clark?  Why won't you talk to
me?'  She sighed as she carried the yams to the dining room table.
Uncle Mike followed immediately behind her, carrying the turkey that
he'd spent all day preparing.  The Lanes and Whites formed a train,
ferrying things from the kitchen to the dining room and setting the
table in a well-orchestrated, collaborative effort.  Lois tried to
bury thoughts of Clark and plastered a smile on her face, hoping that
she could absorb the holiday cheer through diffusion, and if not,
that no one would notice that she wasn't having a great time.

********

Clark landed softly in the snow and trudged the rest of the way to
the farmhouse porch.  He knocked softly on the door with his free
hand, his other arm laden down with presents.  He grinned broadly as
his mother opened the door and welcomed him inside.  Clark and his
parents exchanged hugs and 'Merry Christmases' before all three
entered the family room.  Jonathan had had to cut down the tree this
year without Clark but it stood undecorated by the fireplace, the
ornaments still neatly laid out in their boxes around the base of the
tree.  The three spent the morning decorating the tree and placing
the beautifully wrapped packages under it.

Clark was uncharacteristically quiet.  He smiled and acted as though
he was enjoying himself, yet it was clear to his parents that he was
a thousand miles away.  After dinner, they sat around the table
silently.

Martha placed a concerned hand on top of Clark's larger one.  "Honey,
you know you don't have to pretend that everything is okay."

"We don't mean to butt in, son, but if you want to talk what happened
yesterday, we're here."

"Yesterday?  Oh, the train wreck.  It's not that. Well, it is, but not
exactly...I'm sorry, Dad, I know I'm not making any sense.  I've
screwed things up terribly," he said with an exasperated sigh.  He
went on to tell his parents all about what had happened the week
before, and what had happened the day before in the ED and finally,
about the subway wreck itself.

Clark sighed.  "I've made a mess of everything.  Lois and I haven't
talked in a week, and yesterday, I almost didn't get there in time to
help.  I don't know how to do this...how to balance work with
Superman.  It's no problem when I'm in the lab, but in the ED, how do
I choose who to help and whose calls I can't answer?  I feel like I'm
playing God."

"Oh, Clark, honey, you aren't being fair to yourself or to Lois.
You're doing the best that you can.  No one can ask any more than
that, not even you.  Besides, it doesn't seem to me as though you
have to figure this out alone."

"You mean Lois, right?"  Clark asked.  Martha simply nodded.  "But
after all the stupid things that I've done, I don't even know if
she'll speak to me, and I can't honestly blame her."

"Clark, give Lois some credit, son.  She's a smart lady.  She'll
understand," Jonathan replied.

"I know she is, Dad, but how can I put her in that position, knowing
how she feels about me?"

"And just how is that, Clark?" Martha demanded.

"She's afraid of me, Mom, I told you that.  Considering what she
knows about me, I'm only surprised that she was willing to be my
friend.  But now I've completely destroyed that."

"Clark, the Lois I know most certainly isn't afraid of you, or
repulsed by you, or any other silly thought that could possibly be
going through that head of yours.  She cares about you, Clark."

"Mom, she came right out and said that she was afraid...."

"Did she say of what?"

"Huh?"

"Did you ask her what she was afraid of?"

"No, but I didn't have to."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, what else could she be afraid of?"

"Well, a lot of things Clark, but which one, I don't know because you
didn't ask her!"

Clark groaned.  Trying to win an argument with his mother was impossible.

"Clark, your mother's right.  You're not being fair to either of
you.  You two need to sort this out, and she's given you the perfect
opportunity to do it.  This time you need to really listen to what
Lois is saying and not assume things."

"I know, Dad, I know."  He didn't share in his parents' optimism, but
he knew that he needed to talk to Lois.  No matter how she felt about
him, he needed to tell her how much he appreciated what she'd done
for him and apologize for everything.  He prayed that he'd be able
to regain her friendship.

********

The rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers pushing away the falling
snowflakes threatened to put Lois into a trance.  She reached for the
radio and turned on the CD player.  The melancholy sounds of Chu
Berry's tenor sax solo from "I Don't Stand a Ghost of a Chance with
You" filled the Jeep.  Her mind drifted from one thought to the next
on the long drive, the inclement weather extending the trip home from
her parents' home.  The roads were dark and completely deserted.  She
finally pulled into her driveway and killed the ignition.  She went
inside and fixed herself a hot cup of coffee as she finished packing,
her mood quickly turning from one of mild depression to one of anger
and frustration.  She had absolutely no desire to attend this stupid
conference.  Frustrated, she went to bed, but the unnecessary
caffeine and the fact that she couldn't stop thinking about Clark
kept her awake for many long hours.

********

Clark went to work the next morning for an early shift in the ED.  He
couldn't stop thinking about Lois and what he would say to her.  He
had rehearsed his speech dozens of times, but was still worried about
botching it.  At noon, when his shift in the ED ended, he changed out
of his scrubs and went to her office.  One look told him she wasn't
there.  He checked the cafeteria and the ED, but couldn't find her.
Finally, he went to Dr. Davis's office.

"Dr. Kent, what can I do for you?" Dr. Davis asked him warmly as she
walked out of her office and into the reception area where he was
waiting.

"Actually, I was wondering if Dr. Lane was in today?"

"I'm afraid she isn't, Dr. Kent.  She'll be in Auckland at a
conference until January 10th."

Clark tried to mask his disappointment.  The tenth of January seemed
like an eternity from now and he needed to talk to her.  "Thank you,
Dr. Davis," he replied with a wane smile as he excused himself from
her office.

Clark returned to his own office and his work.  His coworkers gave
him an unusually wide berth that day as he entered the lab.  Barely
acknowledging their presence, he made his way to his desk.  His eyes
focused on a curious package that sat upon the wooden surface of his
desk.  It was wrapped in gold paper and there was no card with it.
Intrigued, he picked the box up and carefully removed the paper.  He
opened the box and pulled back the tissue paper to find an old,
well-worn book.  He lifted it out of the box gingerly and realized
why it looked so familiar.  It was the book he had found on the shelf
in Lois's study.  He opened the cover of the book and found a note
inside.  He removed the small piece of paper and unfolded it.


Dear Clark,

Sometimes all we need to regain our faith is the knowledge that
someone else believes as strongly as we do.

Lois
12-25-96


He remembered the conversation they had had several weeks ago.  He
was helping her rearrange the upstairs study in her house when he
noticed the book on the shelf.  He'd been surprised to find a volume
of the poems of the Persian mystic Rumi among Lois's collection.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, intrigued.  He opened the book,
from right to left, as traditional Farsi was read, and noticed that
the book was printed in both the original language and in English.

"My father accepted a year-long teaching position at a military
hospital on a base in Iran when I was ten."

"Hmm," he nodded.

"What?" she smiled, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

"Oh, it's just that I never figured you to be the type to read the
love poetry of a 13th century Persian mystic, that's all."

"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me, Clark," she raised an
eyebrow and smiled knowingly.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Do you speak the language?" he asked, in perfect Farsi.

"A little," she replied without missing a beat.  "Where'd you learn Farsi?"

"Pakistan." He replied.  "My first station with the Doctors Without
Borders was in an Afghanistani refugee camp."  He switched back to
English.

"Oh," she replied.

"So do you believe it?"

"Believe what?"

"This," he said, tapping the book lightly.  "Do you believe in what
Rumi wrote?"

She remained silent for a moment, thinking.  "I don't know, really.
I guess it's nice knowing that there are people who believe that
strongly.  It gives me a little hope."  She smiled wanly.

He remembered being caught off guard by her response, surprised at
how candid Lois was being, how she was constantly amazing him.  On
several occasions she had offered him a glimpse at just a few of the
facets of her personality that she managed to hide from the world at
large.  He opened the book to a page that had been marked with a gold
leaf book dart and began to read.


Love rests on no foundation.
It is an endless ocean,
With no beginning or end.
Imagine,
A suspended ocean,
Riding on a cushion of ancient secrets.
All souls have drowned in it,
And now dwell there.
One drop of that ocean is hope,
And the rest is fear.


He smiled wryly at the appropriate words penned by a mystic poet
seven hundred years earlier.  Time had done nothing to lessen the
impact of the words.  The feeling that had settled in Clark's gut had
been one part hope and a thousand parts pure, unadulterated terror.
Now all he felt was a burning need to talk to Lois, to tell her how
he felt, no matter how frightened he was.

********

Lois wiped at her brow for the fifth time in as many minutes.  It was
the middle of a blazing hot summer in New Zealand and the sheer
number of bodies crammed into the seminar room was making the heat
intolerable.  She tuned back into the presentation being made by one
of her colleagues but soon lost interest and tuned back out.  The
neatly presented handout of charts and graphs had been turned into a
make shift fan that she was now using to try to cool herself.  The
presenter changed slides and a hundred pairs of hands began flipping
through the pages of the handouts to keep up with the diagrams.  For
a brief moment, the sounds of papers being shuffled and sorted
drowned out the voice of the speaker.  After a grueling marathon
flight, Lois had put up with the two days of innocuous but often
times rather dull entertainment that was being provided, though she
had escaped for a few hours on Sunday and played a round of golf.

Lois had finally rid herself of the bulky air cast and was instead
now wearing a much lighter brace.  She wasted no time in resuming a
favorite pastime.  She took out a considerable amount of pent up
hostility on a bucket of balls at the driving range, averaging a good
twenty yards longer than usual, though the frustration didn't have as
beneficial an effect on her game over all.  Her game was hampered by
a nasty slice that plagued her for almost all eighteen holes.  She
never sliced.  Lois had perfect technique.  Finally catching
something of a break, she sank a putt for par on the eighteenth hole
and snatched the ball from the hole.  She was still frustrated and
still angry, but at least now she was thinking about how she wanted
to dump the golf clubs into a water hazard instead of wondering how
she'd managed to drive Clark away.

It was now nearing the end of the first substantive day of the
conference and Lois was already restless.  She wasn't sure how she
would manage to survive the next week and a half at this rate.  The
speaker had grown silent and the room burst into applause.  Lois
began clapping along with her colleagues.  People began to rise from
their seats and small crowds began to form as doctors discussed
amongst each other the merits of the speaker's address and the
fascinating insight he'd provided.  Lois moved through the throng of
people, trying desperately to reach the wondrous sight before her:
the exit.

She squeezed past a group that was inconsiderately
blocking the aisle and finally reached the doors.  She exited into
the wonderfully air-conditioned lobby and headed for the elevators
and sanctuary.  She jabbed the button for the seventeenth floor and
leaned back against the elevator wall.  She closed her eyes and drank
in the cool, calm silence.  The elevator pinged softly and the doors
opened.  She stepped off and made her way to her room, fumbling for
her keys.  She finally got the door open and entered the room, taking
off her shoes as she made her way inside.  Her jacket soon found
itself on the floor next to the discarded heels as she walked into
the bathroom to fetch a bottle of aspirin.  She gulped down a couple
of the small white tablets with a long sip of cold water and then
promptly collapsed on the bed.  Tomorrow was New Year's Eve, and after
the lecture series, a party was being thrown in the hotel ballroom.
She had to find some reasonable excuse for not being there.  Lois
really didn't want to be there.  She had work to do and
research she needed to get back to.  She hated New Zealand.

********

The next few days passed without significant incident for Clark.  He
left work early on New Year's Eve to begin his patrols.  He knew that
it would be a long and busy night.  After working both Thanksgiving
and Christmas Eve, he managed to gain a needed respite from the ED
that evening, though he was hardly taking the night off.  He flew his
regular patrols but his assistance was needed at far more traffic
accidents and parties that had gone out of control than was usual.
The holiday kept people out much later than usual and Superman was
forced to patrol until morning.  Clark went home and immediately to
bed, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before all the bowl games
got underway.

********

"Luthor here."

"Mr. Luthor, it's Alex Chen, Lex Labs."

"Go ahead, Dr. Chen," Lex looked up from the reports he was reading
as he responded into the speakerphone on his desk.

"Mr. Luthor, we've completed the modifications per your request to
the aerosol delivery system.  Col. Trask was in today with the
sample.  We will begin testing tomorrow, sir.  All in all, we expect
the system to be fully operational within five days."

Lex turned back to his paperwork.  "Very well, Dr. Chen.  Keep me updated."

"Yes sir."

Luthor disconnected the line.  He paused for a beat, then punched a
button on the speakerphone.

"Yes, sir?"

"Nigel, have the jet ready.  Tell the pilot to set a flight plan for Arusha."

"Ah, the Serengeti."

"Indeed, Nigel. I'm suddenly in the mood for some big game hunting."

"Very good, sir."

Lex turned off the intercom, stood and walked over to a large display
mantle on one side of his office.  He removed from the mounting on
the wall a large, antique bull elephant gun and raised it as though
he were going to fire.  "Big game, indeed."

********

"Are there any messages for room 1710?"

"Just one second," the clerk behind the desk drawled as he smiled
politely.  "Yes, Dr. Lane, one, in fact.  A call from a Mr. Kent
around noon today."

"Oh, uh, thank you," she replied, completely startled.  Clark had
called?  She looked at her watch and frowned.  It was almost eight at
night in Auckland, which meant she had to wait at least a few hours
before calling Clark.  Her mind began to race as she wondered why he
was calling.  Was everything all right?  Was he finally going to talk
to her?  She willed time to pass by more quickly but the stubborn
hands on the face of her watch refused to move any faster.

Lois went up to her room and took out her laptop, hoping that work would
take her mind off Clark.  She was far too distracted to get anything
done.  After half an hour of futile attempts at work, she closed the
laptop and turned on the television instead.  She flipped through the
stations, settling finally on the BBC.  The lead in story was on the
war in the Balkans, followed by a story about some scandal involving
the Japanese Prime Minister and a story on the meeting of the G 7
nations.

Lois watched with less than rapt attention, until a very
familiar and colorful figure appeared on the screen.  The view
switched from a close up shot of Superman to one of the hero landing
a small passenger jet, carrying it as though it were weightless.  The
next shot was of a press conference, Superman standing in front of a
bank of microphones while flashbulbs popped all around him.  She
picked up the remote and turned off the television.  Watching Clark
on TV certainly didn't do anything to improve her current state of
mind.  She looked at the clock again.  It was barely five in the
morning his time.  She groaned and flopped down on the bed.  She lay
on her back, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the languidly
slow ticking of the clock.

********

"Wha?"

THUD!

Clark shook his head, but the ringing continued.  He looked over and
realized it was the phone.  Checking to make sure his crash landing
hadn't damaged the bed, he reached over and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he inquired groggily.

"Clark?"

"Lois?!" his heart began thudding in his chest.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Clark...."

"No!  No, it's all right, really."

"Good, because I really need to talk to you."

He tried to calm himself down but could still hear his heart pounding
in his ears like a jackhammer.  "I guess you got my message, then?"

"Yeah, yeah I did."

"I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"For the book."

"Oh."

"It's wonderful, really.  I love it."

"Oh, you're, ah, welcome."

Silence reigned for a beat.  "Also, I wanted to thank you for what
you did for me last week."

"Last week?"

"Yeah, in the ED.  I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't
been there."

"Oh, that." She mulled over his words.  "Don't worry about it."  Was
he just calling to say 'thank you?'  God, she was so confused.

"No, I mean, you don't understand how much your help means to me," he
swallowed hard.  "I don't think I could do any of this, I don't think
I could *be* this, without you."

Wow.  How was she supposed to respond to that?  She opened her mouth
to reply but couldn't form the words.

"Lois?  You there?"

"Yeah, I...I'm here, sorry.  I just, I just don't know what to say, I guess."

They were both silent for a long moment.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"I miss you."  Her voice was small, unsteady.

"I miss you, too.  God, Lois, I'm so sorry.  I can't believe all the
stupid things I did.  I don't want to lose your friendship, Lois.  I
can't even tell you what it would do to me."

She wondered briefly which of the two of them were more miserable.
"You haven't, Clark.  I'm still here.  Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Please don't shut me out any more, because I don't think I could take it."

He could hear the strain in her voice.  "Never," he whispered.
"There are so many things I need to say to you, so many things we
need to talk about...."

"We'll talk, but not now.  When I come home next week, we'll talk."
She was bursting with all the things she needed to say to him, but
she wanted to be there with him when she did.

Clark felt a twinge of disappointment, but he let it go.  He wanted
to protest and tell her that he could be in New Zealand in a few
minutes, but she sounded tired, and he would have to go into the ED
in a short while.  He didn't want to rush this conversation.  He
wanted time, and if they had to wait, so be it.  "Okay," he replied
simply.  "Good night, Lois."

"Good night, Clark."

********

"Hey, Kent!"

"Hi, Brett," Clark replied as his colleague grabbed a pair of
clipboards from behind the admitting desk and looked up at the white
board grid of patients.

"We've got an eighteen-month-old with a fever, won't eat, and a ten-year-
old with a dislocated shoulder that needs resetting.  Which one do you
want?"

"Gimme the ten-year-old," Clark replied.  Brett handed him one of the
two clipboards.  The two doctors in identical scrubs and lab coats
strode down the corridor.

After his third patient of the morning, Clark ducked out of the ED to
help emergency crews bring several car accident victims to MetroGen.
He delivered the most critically injured on gurneys to the waiting
residents before darting away to change and return to the ED.  He saw
two cases of the flu and was just finishing the last of six sutures
on a teenage girl's arm when his hearing kicked in.  It was a bank
robbery downtown.  He tuned it out for the meantime, and finished the
stitches.  He then handed over care of his patient to Matt Brody, one
of the residents, and Erin, who was shadowing him that day, and ducked
out.  He spun changed before propelling himself into the air and
heading toward the New Troy Mercantile Bank.

He landed several feet in front of the two masked and gun wielding
suspects as they ran out of the bank.  They noticed him too late.
The first collided with the man of steel and fell squarely on his
back.  His cohort, trailing a few steps behind, tripped over his
hapless mate and joined him in a pile on the ground.  Superman
crushed both of their weapons and hoisted the bumbling perpetrators
into the air.  Within moments, the wails of police sirens filled the
neighboring streets as black and whites surrounded the bank.
Superman turned over the two bank robbers to a pair of officers who
proceeded to cuff the suspects.

"Thanks, Superman," one of the policemen offered his thanks to the
resident superhero.

"Any time, officer," Superman replied politely.

"You idiot, I told you this was a stupid idea," the first gunman spat.

"Shut up," the second robber replied.  "Ow, that hurts!" he griped as
the cuffs were tightened on his wrists.

"You have the right to remain silent...."

"Who are you telling to shut up, you damn fool?!"

"Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of
law...." The irritation was clear in the officer's voice.

"Look, Einstein, did you have a better plan?"

"You have the right to an attorney...." The officers began to drag the
two loquacious suspects to the squad car.

Clark merely shook his head.  He had wasted enough time with these
Two. He looked upward and was instantly airborne and on his way back
to MetroGen.  He landed in an alley half a block from the hospital
and changed back into his scrubs.  He jogged back toward the ED
entrance and met an ambulance and the medics bringing in an eight-
year-old boy suffering from an episodic seizure.

********

Clark collapsed into a chair in the lounge.  He'd used his break time
for Superman duties and it had been a busy morning in the ED.  He
brought his coffee cup to his lips to take a long, relaxing sip when
the sound of the intercom interrupted him.

"Dr. Kent, please report to admitting.  Dr. Kent to admitting."

He groaned and put the mug back on the table.  He walked briskly out
of the lounge and down the corridor to admitting.

"Dr. Kent, line two."

"Thanks, Chris," Clark replied as he took the proffered telephone
receiver.  He jabbed the flashing button.  "Clark Kent."

"Dr. Kent, Perry White here.  I couldn't get hold of Lois, and I know
that you were working with her on the Genzyme case and I thought that
the two of you ought to know this. This isn't public information yet,
but the DA will be taking over the Genzyme case himself.  It'll be
announced in a press conference this afternoon, but I got the advance
on it.  It seems that the judge threw out some of the state's
evidence on a blasted technicality and Royce is taking over the case
because his office can't afford to lose these cases."

"You're kidding me," Clark replied.

"I wish I was, Dr. Kent, but I'm as serious as a heart attack."

"What did they throw out?  Does the state still have a case?"

"I don't know the details, but the DA won't be taking any chances
with this one.  Great shades of Elvis, I'd give my eye teeth to know
who's responsible for this colossal screw up."

"You and me both, Mr. White," Clark replied, his jaw set on edge.

"Anyway, could you pass the information on to Lois, Dr. Kent?  I've
been trying to reach her cell phone, but I haven't been having any
luck."

"Of course, Mr. White."  Clark hung up the phone, visibly upset.

   ********

"'Lo?" Lois mumbled into the phone, bleary eyed. She turned the alarm
clock to look at the display. She squinted to make out the red
numbers. It was just past three in the morning.

"Dr. Lane?  I'm sorry to wake you...."

"Mrs. O'Neil?"

"Dr. Lane, there are some men here from the Department of Justice."

"What?"

"The DA's office is demanding that you turn over all of Dr. Carter's
personal files."

"But I already relinquished his laptop. They have everything they
need right there."  Lois sat up in bed.

"They're asking you to turn over all of the paperwork and personal
items you removed from his apartment," Mrs. O'Neil replied in an even
tone of voice, though Lois could detect the hint of annoyance.
Obviously, her receptionist was also displeased with the DA's office.

Lois thought about the personal information that was in those files,
Danny's journal....  Through clenched teeth, she spoke.  "Could you put
them on the line, please, Mrs. O'Neil?"

"Certainly, Dr. Lane."

"Hello?" she heard a deep, gruff voice on the other end.

"Yes, this is Dr. Lane. I'd like to know why exactly you feel the
need to pilfer through the private property of a dead man," she said
in a deceptively calm tone of voice.

"Dr. Lane, I assure you that it is our intention to bring the people
who killed Dr. Carter to justice."

"Don't give me that.  Everything you need is on that laptop.  There's
nothing else in Dr. Carter's personal belongings that is of any
concern to this investigation."

"The District Attorney's office will determine that, Dr. Lane.  Now I
have a court order to seize that paper work and I intend to carry
through with the order, Dr. Lane."

"Well, then we're at an impasse then, aren't we?  Even if I wanted to
help you, I'm not in Metropolis to aid you in your investigation."

"Dr. Lane, you are required by law to assist us with this
investigation and relinquish those files effective immediately."

"Fine, then.  Give me twenty four hours," Lois replied icily.

"Very well, Dr. Lane."  The line went dead.  Lois hung up the phone
and began dialing again.

"Clark Kent."

"Clark, it's Lois. I need your help."

"Lois, what's wrong?"

"It's the Genzyme case,"

"So you've heard about Royce, then?"

"What about Royce?"

"He's taken over the case himself."

"No wonder...."

"What?"

"The DA's office is demanding all of Danny's paper work."

"I thought you gave them everything related to the case already."

"I did.  Now they want his personal letters, his research, his journal."

"What?"

"They want all of his personal belongings."  There was no response on
the other end.  "Clark?"

"Sorry, it just seems so wrong.  I mean, he was murdered trying to do
the right thing, and now they're turning his whole life into state's
evidence.  It just seems like a gross invasion of privacy."

"I know," she replied.  "Oh God, Clark!"

"What?  What is it?"

"The files, remember?  The ones we, you know...."

"Yeah?"

"They're all together with Danny's things in my apartment.  If they 
find those...."

"Okay, let's just think for a moment...did the DA's office demand any
of your papers?"

"No," she replied.

"Then there's nothing wrong with us destroying those documents."

"Clark!"

"I know. I don't like even thinking about it, either, but I don't see
any other way.  Look, we don't need the evidence that we found.  The
stuff from Dr. Carter's files will be more than enough, and no one
knows that we have those documents."  His conscience railed against
his decision to destroy the evidence of the breaking and entering
that he and Lois had committed, but the alternative was even more
unthinkable.  If they allowed t