Faces
By Nan Smith <hachiban@earthlink.net>
Rated:PG
Submitted: April 2002

**********

Disclaimer:  The familiar characters and settings in this 
story are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros., December 
Third Productions and whomever else can legally claim them.  
The new characters and the story itself are mine.

Faces
By Nan Smith


Perry White was worried.

He stood at the window of his office, looking out at the 
newsroom where his star team of investigative reporters was 
currently working on a follow-up to the capture of Diana 
Stride, and the testimony of Michael DiSanto, the Mr. X who 
had been her partner when she worked as an assassin for 
Intergang.

The unsupported allegation she had made at her arraignment, 
that Clark Kent was in actuality, Superman, had been 
virtually ignored by the responsible media and pounced on 
by the tabloids in order to sell their rags.  And that was 
what worried Perry.  With the others, he had laughed 
publicly at the statement, but he, alone--at least he hoped 
he was the only one--had realized that she was speaking the 
absolute truth.

When he had heard the story, a thousand little pieces had 
clicked neatly into place in his mind and what hadn't made 
sense before suddenly added up perfectly.  He wondered if 
Lois knew.  It was probable that she did, he thought.  She 
was his partner and if she hadn't figured it out on her 
own, he'd probably told her by now.  

Perry was aware that, from the early days of his 
employment, Clark Kent had been strongly attracted to his 
partner.  Lois, on the other hand, had barely given Clark 
the time of day.  More recently, the relationship appeared 
to have changed and that worried Perry a little.  Office 
romances were a chancy thing and more than one great 
partnership had been a casualty of such a relationship.  
Still, there wasn't really anything he could do about it, 
except hope that things worked out.

And then, they had returned from their weekend at the 
Mystery Mansion.  Something was drastically different after 
that.  He wasn't sure what it was, but *something* had 
happened that they weren't telling him, that was certain.  
He wondered now, if that was when Lois had discovered--or 
been told--the truth.

He hoped they would figure out some way of dealing with 
Diana's bombshell.  He'd ordered Security to throw that 
sleazebag from the Whisper--Leo Nunk?--out of the building 
twice in the last two days.  The man left an almost visible 
trail of slime in his wake, Perry thought.  He gave genuine 
reporters a bad name.  Hell, he made other tabloid 
reporters look good in comparison and that took some doing.  
The trouble was, Nunk was like a weasel.  He locked his 
teeth on something and didn't let go until he'd wrung every 
drop of sensationalism that he could from it.  He was going 
to keep after Clark until Clark managed to discredit the 
allegation beyond the shadow of a doubt.

Perry discovered that he was pacing, recalling a remark 
made by one of the members of the Planet's Board of 
Directors on the subject.  He laughed along with the others 
and made a joke out of it, but it made him nervous.  Still, 
there was an old saying: "Least said, soonest mended".  He 
hoped it held true, but Clark had better watch his step 
while negotiating the inevitable pitfalls ahead.

There wasn't much he could do to help unless Clark asked 
and that wasn't likely to happen.  Perry wasn't even sure 
he wanted to let his top male investigative reporter know 
what he'd figured out.  All he could really do would be to 
run interference if the opportunity or necessity presented 
itself.

With that resolution in mind, he seated himself behind his 
desk and turned his attention to Ralph's latest scandal.  
Two paragraphs into it, he sighed and got to his feet.  
Ralph was by the coffee machine, hitting on Louise from the 
Planet's Food Section again, he saw as he opened the door 
to the newsroom.

"Ralph!" he barked.  "In my office--NOW!"

**********.

At that particular moment, Clark wasn't thinking about the 
nuisance presented by Diana Stride's allegation or by Leo 
Nunk of the National Whisper.  As it happened, he was 
thinking about taking Lois to Sirino's that evening.

"What do you think?" she asked him.

"Huh?  Oh, the article."  He rested a hand on the back of 
her chair and leaned forward to read what she had written.  
"That's 'alleged' assassin," he pointed out.  "Otherwise, 
it's good."

Lois rolled her eyes.  "Right.  'Alleged' it is, as if 
Perry wouldn't have spotted it.  There.  Happy?"

He merely grinned at her.  "How about dinner, tonight?" he 
inquired.

"Okay," she said.  "I've had enough of my own so-called 
cooking to last a long time--especially after eating your 
mom's food this last weekend."

"Hey," Clark said, "I'll cook for you any time you like."

She glanced up at him.  "You don't have to try so hard, 
Clark.  Really."

"I know.  But can I help it if I'm completely in love with 
you?"

Her cheeks had turned slightly pink.  "I guess not--only I 
still don't see why.  You could have any woman in the world 
that you wanted.  Why me?  I treated you like dirt and 
practically swooned over Superman.  I couldn't see the 
really wonderful guy working right next to me."

Clark grinned.  "But my sterling character finally won over 
all the obstacles," he said.

She swatted him.  "Right; joke about it.  What time, 
tonight?"

"Well, I have reservations for seven at Sirino's.  Why 
don't I pick you up at six-fifteen?"

"All right."  She glanced around at Perry's bellow.  "Looks 
like Ralph is in for it, again."

"If it's about his latest article, he should be," Jimmy 
said.  "I told him it wasn't a good idea but of course he 
didn't listen.  Naturally, *I* have no idea what I'm 
talking about."

Clark grinned.  "Give it time, Jim.  How are you feeling, 
these days?"

"Pretty good."  The young photographer made a face.  "The 
incision scar on my back itches but the doctor says it's 
supposed to.  I guess I got off pretty lucky."

"Well," Lois said, "you're alive.  I'd say that was lucky."

"Good point."  He turned his head at the yell of "Copy 
boy!" from the direction of the Sports editor.  "Oops, 
gotta go.  I'll have that stuff on Theodore Hurst for you 
by this afternoon, Lois."  

"Hurst?" Clark asked, as Jimmy headed for the Sports desk.

"Yeah," Lois said.  "Since we know the guy is some kind of 
boss in Intergang, I thought an investigation on him might 
turn up something we can use."

"Not a bad idea," Clark said.  "Got any ideas on that other 
thing?"

"Sort of.  Martha and I were talking about it, yesterday.  
She had kind of an idea--we'll just have to figure out how 
to set it up."

"Care to let me in on it, or is it a secret?"

"Later," Lois said.  "When there's not so many people 
around.  Here comes Louise."

The junior member of the Food Section's two employees 
stopped by Lois's desk.  "I've got those recipes you 
wanted, Ms. Lane."

"Oh, thanks, Louise," Lois said, taking the sheets the 
young woman held out to her.  "You're sure these are 
foolproof?"

"Well, they're meant for a ten-year old," Louise said.  
"That's about as close to foolproof as you can get."

"I guess that will do, then," Lois said.  Clark had the 
feeling she was deliberately not looking at him.  "Thanks."

"You're welcome."  Louise glanced at the window to Perry's 
office where Clark could see Ralph wilting under their 
editor's scathing monologue.  "I better get back to work 
before Mr. White gets mad at me." 

When Louise had returned to her desk, Clark raised an 
eyebrow at Lois.  "Recipes?" he asked.

"Well," she said, a little defensively, "I thought it might 
be a good idea to learn some basic stuff."

"I don't mind," he said with a smile, "but you don't have 
to if you don't want to, you know.  I'm not asking you to 
make any changes." 

"Oh, I know.  I just thought I could try something easy.  I 
ought to be able to cook something besides macaroni salad 
and chocolate desserts."

"Okay," Clark said.  "If you need help learning to cook, 
though, I'm sure my mom would love to teach you."

"I just might ask," Lois mumbled.  She was looking over the 
recipes.  "What's a tsp?"

"Teaspoon," Clark said.  "The capital T is for tablespoon."

"I guess that's simple enough.  My mother wasn't into 
cooking, much.  At least, she never got around to teaching 
Lucy or me anything about it.  To tell you the truth, I 
never even took Home Economics in school.  Small engine 
repair was much more interesting."

The door to Perry's office opened while she was talking and 
Ralph exited, looking pale.  Without a word, he hurried to 
his desk, grabbed a notebook and headed for the elevator.

"I wonder what that was all about," Lois remarked, 
distracted from the subject of cooking.  She looked at him 
with a speculative expression.  "I bet you could tell me."

"Lois, Ralph was getting bawled out about something.  You 
know I don't eavesdrop on things like that," Clark said.  
"Jimmy knows, though.  You could ask him."

"Sure, you do.  You eavesdropped on Diana Stride, didn't 
you?"

"That was different," Clark said, patiently.  "Ralph isn't 
a criminal.  He's just inexperienced."

"With a talent for muckraking," Lois said.  "He'd be a good 
replacement for Cat Grant."

"Probably," Clark agreed.  "But I didn't eavesdrop on Cat, 
either.  At least, not when she was in trouble with Perry."

"Do you have rules for everything?" Lois asked.

"Well, when it involves ethics; yes," Clark said.  "Think 
about it this way, Lois.  Superman has to have unbreakable 
ethics.  The minute he showed that his ethics might be 
negotiable, everyone would lose trust in him.  With the 
kind of power he has, he can't afford for people to have 
any doubts.  Look at Mayson Drake.  She does have doubts--
and I think that's really what's behind her dislike of 
Superman, not his alien origins."

Lois looked thoughtful.  "Yeah--I think I get it," she 
said, finally.  "But Clark Kent isn't in the same position-
-is he?"

"Yes and no," Clark said.  "What Superman does and what 
Clark Kent can do are two different things, but ethics have 
to be something intrinsic, not subject to convenience.  
Trust can't be negotiated; it has to be earned.  My 
informants and sources wouldn't trust me if I didn't have 
my journalistic reputation.  It's the same with you."

"Yeah," Lois said, reluctantly.  "But, that doesn't stop me 
from eavesdropping."

"But you don't go gossiping about what you hear to 
everyone, do you?  You keep it to yourself unless it has to 
do with criminal activity.  So do I."

She stuck her tongue out at him.  "You're right, but I hate 
it when you're logical."

He smiled.  "I hope that doesn't mean you're backing out of 
dinner."

She pretended to consider.  "I guess not.  I'll give you a 
chance to make it up to me."

"That's a relief," Clark said.  "It's a date, then."

**********

"Here's everything I could find," Jimmy said, some hours 
later.  "If you need more, let me know."

"Thanks, Jimmy."  Clark accepted the printout Jimmy 
produced.  "We know this guy is with Intergang--Superman 
heard him say so.  We're hoping we'll find something in his 
background that we can use to get a line on the 
organization."

"Well, just be careful," Jimmy said, seriously.  "I'd hate 
to lose two of my best friends."

"We will," Clark said, slightly surprised at his young 
friend's concern.  

Jimmy grinned nervously.  "I hadn't really thought much 
about it before," he admitted.  "I mean, the worst they 
ever did to me up until three weeks ago, was splash me with 
yellow paint.  But after Diana Stride shot me, and tried to 
kill Superman--"

"It puts a whole new perspective on things," Clark agreed.  
"We'll be careful, though.  Intergang is one of the biggest 
criminal organizations in the world--even bigger than 
LexCorp was.  They've got their fingers in every kind of 
corruption in just about every country.  They didn't get 
that way by being careless, but this might be the key to 
finding out how they operate, and who's involved.  Even 
Lois will want to go carefully on this one."

Jimmy snorted.  "Her idea of 'careful' two years ago was 
hiding in some drug dealer's back seat so she could follow 
him to his supplier's hideout.  I'd just started work here 
a week before.  She won her third Kerth for the 
investigation, but, wow--I don't know why she's still 
alive."

"I'm just glad she is," Clark said.  "Anyway, we're 
partners now.  That might make a difference."

Jimmy looked skeptical.  "I hope so.  Anyhow, let me know 
if you need any more stuff on Hurst.  I went back ten 
years, but if that's not enough--"

"I'm sure it'll do, at least to start with," Clark said.  
He glanced at the clock.  "Oops, I have an appointment with 
a source in twenty minutes.  I better go."

"See you later."  

Clark took his overcoat from the rack, glancing around as a 
chime announced the elevator's arrival.  He hurried up the 
steps as the doors opened and a tall, dark, slender man 
emerged, glancing around the newsroom with a familiar air.  
Courteously, he held the door for Clark.

"Thanks," Clark said.

"Don't mention it."  The deep voice was tinged with a faint 
accent.  "Is Mr. White in his office?"

"I think so.  It's that way," Clark said, pointing.

"I know where it is.  Thank you."  The man gave the 
slightest of bows, and turned toward the stairs.

**********

Ten minutes later, Lois stepped out of the elevator, 
glancing around.  Her gaze froze on the tall, dark man 
standing patiently by the door to Perry's office.  Through 
the half-opened blinds, she could see Perry speaking to Jim 
Foxworthy, the Entertainment editor.  Her gaze returned to 
the man waiting at his door.  What was *he* doing here?  
She had last seen him five years ago and had fervently 
hoped never to set eyes on him again.

As she watched, the door to Perry's office opened and Jim 
emerged.  The man strolled casually past Jim and shut the 
door behind him.  Lois glanced around, looking for Clark.  
He was nowhere to be seen.  She looked back at the window 
to Perry's office in time to see the blinds close.

Slowly, she turned to descend the ramp and make her way to 
her desk.  Why was it that her partner was never around 
when she needed him?  Glancing up at the monitors, she saw 
why.  The dedication of the new Senior Center was in 
progress and Superman was cutting the ceremonial ribbon.  
He'd be back soon, but by then it would be too late to find 
out what was going on in Perry's office.  Again, her gaze 
returned to the blank window of the Editor's office and she 
bit her lip.  Life in the newsroom was going to be 
uncomfortable in the immediate future.  For a moment, she 
was tempted to take the vacation that she'd been putting 
off for months, but finally rejected the option.  Lois Lane 
never ran from a challenge.  She wouldn't do it this time, 
either. 

**********   

Clark stepped out of the cab and walked briskly toward the 
entrance of the Daily Planet.  Leo Nunk and his cameraman 
were waiting, of course; he'd been aware of that when he 
was still a block away.  The guy would be taking pictures, 
so he made his posture as casually un-Supermanlike as 
possible, behaving as if he were completely unaware of the 
presence of the two tabloid snoops.

As expected, as he approached the entrance, Nunk oozed out 
of his concealed position and blocked his way.  

"Clark!" he said, smiling.  "We still haven't had time for 
that interview."

"We're not going to, either," Clark said.  He used the 
notebook he was carrying to prevent a close view of his 
face by the ubiquitous cameraman, as he would be expected 
to do.  "Believe me, Nunk, if I could fly, I'd make sure 
you never got anywhere near me."  With one hand, he 
signalled the security guard in the Planet's lobby.  "Now, 
if you'll let me by, I have to get to work."

The reporter from the Whisper didn't move.  "Look, 
Superman, we both know who you really are.  Why don't you 
just give up the game?" he inquired.

Clark rolled his eyes in as close an imitation of Lois when 
she was exasperated as he could produce, but didn't answer.  
At that moment, two security guards emerged from the 
Planet's lobby.

"Sorry, Mr. Kent," one of them apologized.  "We were on our 
break.  Look, Nunk, you and your buddy here better beat it 
or I'm gonna have you arrested for loitering.  You give the 
place a bad name."

Clark circled the men and made his way to the entrance.  
Nunk made a move to follow him but was stymied by the 
second guard, who stepped squarely in his way.  Clark 
ducked through the revolving doors and gave a long sigh of 
exasperation.  Bill, the snack vendor, grinned in sympathy.  
"Nunk giving you a bad time, Mr. Kent?"

Clark glanced back at the four men.  "He's just trying to 
manufacture a story."

"Yeah."  The man shook his head.  "The guy's an idiot.  My 
wife buys the Whisper, but I think it's a waste of money.  
It makes good lining for our parrot's cage, though."

"Well," Clark said, "you never know.  They could warn you 
about an invasion of the mole people when the powers that 
be ignore all the signs."

"Oh, right.  I'll remember that."  The man chuckled and 
turned to a customer.  "Can I help you?"

Clark walked into the newsroom five minutes later.  He knew 
Lois was here; had known it since he entered the building, 
as a matter of fact.  He could also tell that she was 
upset.  Her heart was thumping harder than usual and he 
could hear her familiar typing pattern as she punched the 
computer keys with unnecessary force.  Unobtrusively, he 
descended the ramp and crossed to her desk.  

She didn't look up.  Clark leaned quietly over her 
shoulder.  

"Hi, honey.  What's the matter?"

"Is it that obvious?"  He could hear the tautness in her 
voice, despite the fact that she pitched it very low.

"No.  But I can hear things other people can't.  What's 
wrong?"

"You see that guy sitting at the table in Conference Room 
3?"

Clark glanced obediently in the indicated direction.  
"Sure.  He came in when I was leaving."

"That's Claude."

Clark frowned.  "'Claude'?"

"*The* Claude.  The one I told you about."

"The one who stole your story?"

"The one I thought I was in love with," she clarified, 
baldly.  "The one who--"

Clark put a hand on her shoulder.  "Lois, it doesn't 
matter.  He had his chance and he blew it."  He glanced 
back at the man in the conference room and made a quick 
policy decision.  "Come on.  Let's go talk somewhere a 
little less public."

**********

Perry watched from the haven of his office as his top 
investigative team talked quietly.  He'd been aware that 
Lois was upset, although he didn't quite understand why.  
It seemed to be connected to the arrival of Claude Chabert 
and he dredged up what little he knew of Lois's 
acquaintance with the man.  

They had been co-workers when Claude had worked here, five 
or six years ago.  Lois had been a brand new employee, but 
just as much of a workaholic then as she was, now.  There 
had been the office gossip that he vaguely recalled about 
the two of them, right about the time the man had won his 
Kerth.  Perry hadn't paid much attention to the talk.  
Chabert had left Metropolis shortly thereafter and returned 
to France and the Paris branch, where as far as Perry knew, 
he'd sunk into relative obscurity, certainly not fulfilling 
the promise he'd shown with his award-winning story.  
Still, it wasn't like Lois to let herself become upset over 
any man, colleague or not, unless it was Clark.  He'd never 
actually given much credence to those rumors anyway.

Still, something was wrong.  He hoped Clark would be able 
to soothe down her ruffled feathers, because Chabert would 
probably be here for a few weeks, at least, judging by the 
story he'd told Perry.  

Perry remembered the incident well enough, of course.  
About a year ago, the Colombian government had been on the 
verge of arresting Juan Arista, the head of one of the 
biggest drug cartels based in Colombia.  A few days before 
the planned operation, Arista had gone out on his yacht and 
died in a massive explosion that had taken the lives of 
everyone on board.  No bodies of passengers or crew had 
ever been recovered.  It was assumed that Arista had been 
the victim of one of his many competitors, or possibly even 
of his oldest son who had assumed leadership of the 
organization.

Six weeks ago, Arista had turned up alive in France wearing 
a new name and face, with a new background and apparently 
running a legitimate business--which, of course, turned out 
to be a front to launder money and distribute drugs for his 
cartel, of which he was predictably still very much in 
charge.  The man had been there for months, and only a 
freak accident had revealed his presence.  The rest of 
Perry's information had come from Chabert.

The French police, in cooperation with the FBI, had managed 
to discover Arista's last location before his arrival in 
Paris:  Metropolis, of course.  It was there that his new 
identity had emerged.  That was why Chabert was in the 
Metropolis office today, and would be for the near future 
as well.

As he watched, Lois rose to her feet, and Perry grimaced as 
he got a glimpse of her frozen expression.  Storm clouds 
were brewing, that was for certain.  Clark took her gently 
by the elbow and together the two of them headed for the 
elevator.  Hopefully, Perry thought, Superman would be able 
to handle her, because no one else had a chance of dealing 
with Lois in her current mood.  Things could get very dicey 
for the upcoming few weeks at the office if Clark wasn't 
able to smooth things over somewhat.

Perry sighed.  He never regretted becoming the Editor-in-
Chief of the Daily Planet, but there were times when it 
gave him heartburn.  Like today.

Determinedly, he returned his attention to his computer.  
He still had to finish editing several more stories, 
including Lois's follow-up on Diana Stride.  Hopefully, 
Clark had done most of that particular job for him.  Even 
if he hadn't known the boy had been the editor of his 
hometown paper, Perry would have guessed that he'd been one 
somewhere.  Once you'd been an editor of a newspaper, no 
matter how small, you never lost the instincts, he thought.  
Clark must have the newspaper business in his blood--which 
was funny, when you considered Superman hadn't even been 
born on Earth.  For a crazy instant, he wondered if Krypton 
had ever had newspapers; then he dismissed the thought as 
absurdity and got down to work.

**********

Clark said nothing while the elevator bore the two of them 
to the parking basement.  At least, he thought, Nunk and 
his shadow probably wouldn't be hanging out down here.  He 
hoped the security guard would carry out his threat to have 
the guy arrested if he didn't leave, but didn't have much 
hope that it would keep the two away for long.

Beside him, Lois shifted her weight off the athletic cast 
that she had been wearing since Friday.  It made her 
considerably more mobile, but walking around with her bare 
toes sticking out the front didn't exactly thrill his 
partner.  The weather wasn't particularly warm, yet.  He'd 
suggested a sock to cover her foot, which was an 
improvement, but she wasn't going to be really satisfied 
until her ankle had healed.

And now, Claude had reappeared.  The man had romanced Lois 
and then betrayed her trust by stealing her story.  That 
certainly didn't predispose him to like the guy much and 
his presence sure wasn't making Lois happy.  Maybe it was 
time Superman did some detective work and found out just 
why he was here.  The sooner he left, the better it would 
be--for all of them.

"I'm sorry, Clark," Lois said, suddenly.  "I was determined 
I wasn't going to let it get to me."

"Lois, it's all right.  You were in love with him and he--"

"No," she said.
 
"But you said--"

"I was never in love with him, Clark.  After I fell in love 
with you, I saw the difference for the first time.  He was 
older than I was and I was dazzled that such a handsome, 
sophisticated man would find me attractive--but I wasn't in 
love with him.  And then, he stole my story."  She grimaced 
wryly.  "I never told anyone until I met you--not even 
Perry.  I knew no one would believe me if I told the truth-
-I was a rookie; Claude was an established journalist.  He 
used my crush on him to get what he wanted and when I 
confronted him, he told me that all was fair in journalism, 
and he'd done me a favor--that I should learn a lesson from 
it: to trust no one.  I never forgot."

"I know.  You told me the same thing.  I hope you know now 
that he was wrong."

She nodded.  "I don't know how you ever forgave me for 
doing what I did to you--I used your trust to steal your 
story, just like Claude did to me."

"Well, not quite."

"The principle is the same.  At first, I couldn't 
understand why I felt so guilty.  But after you paid me 
back, I realized what a--a terrible thing I'd done and that 
I deserved everything I got.  That was why I came back to 
the office instead of just going home.  And when you 
admitted that you set me up, I realized I didn't want to 
fight with you.  That was when I started to respect you."  
She stared at her feet.  "I think one reason why what 
Claude did hurt so much was that I realized he didn't 
respect me at all."

The elevator doors slid open and they stepped out together.  
Clark lowered his glasses, glancing around for any sign of 
Nunk, but the man was nowhere to be seen.  Slowly, they 
walked toward the entrance to the garage.

"I respect you, Lois," he said, quietly.  "Everyone in the 
newsroom does--even Ralph, believe it or not.  You're the 
best journalist I've ever known.  And Claude had to have 
some respect for your writing or he wouldn't have thought 
stealing your story was worth it--although I'm sure that's 
cold comfort."

"He might have thought the story was good," she said, "but 
he didn't respect *me*.  He didn't even apologize."  She 
paused.  "I guess I never did, either, did I?  I'm sorry, 
Clark.  I know that it's nearly two years too late, but I 
*am* sorry."

"I think that's water under the bridge," he said.  "Don't 
keep beating yourself up over it, honey.  It isn't 
important."

"Yes, it is," she said.  "I don't want to be in Claude's 
class.  What I did put me in it.  I didn't think so at the 
time, but I owed you a lot for showing me it was something 
I didn't want to be."

"Lois, you could never be in his class."  He stopped 
walking and turned to face her.  "Is that why you're so 
upset?"

"That's part of it," she said.  "When I saw him, it all 
came back and I saw that I'd done the same thing to you 
that I hated when he did it to me."

"There's a difference," Clark pointed out.  "You were 
ashamed of what you did.  He never was."

"I guess."  She scuffed the athletic cast on the rough 
concrete of the garage.  "Another part of it was the gossip 
about us.  Things like that get around, you know."

"People like scandal," Clark said.  "Remember the rumors 
about Cat and me?  No one would believe me when I told them 
it wasn't true--not even Jimmy or Perry."

"Claude didn't deny it," Lois said.  "He embellished it.  
It was just that one time, Clark, I swear it--but you'd 
never have believed it if you heard the gossip."

"I believe you," he said.  "Lois, you don't owe me any 
explanations.  It doesn't matter, really."

"I know," she said.  "It was pretty horrible at the time, 
though.  Anyway, Claude went back to France, and after a 
while the gossip died down.  But, now he's back."

They had started to walk toward the entrance again.  As 
they emerged into the street, Clark glanced quickly around, 
but Nunk was nowhere to be seen.  He was probably still 
hanging around the entrance, he thought.  "Lois, the 
situation is different, now," he said.  "You have a 
reputation as a brilliant journalist--and three Kerths 
under your belt.  I doubt Claude can say the same.  If he 
tries to revive any of the old rumors, just treat him like 
you do any jerk who thinks he can patronize you.  You sure 
put Pat Barrington in his place at that last press 
conference we attended.  Do the same to Claude."       

She appeared to think that over and finally nodded.  
"You're right.  You're absolutely right."

"Of course I am."  Clark kept his voice light, not wanting 
her to see how angry the whole thing had made him.  Claude 
had some things to answer for, that was certain.

"Where are we going?" Lois asked, unexpectedly.

"I thought we'd drop by Rita's Cappuccino Corner," Clark 
said, nodding at the small establishment halfway down the 
block.  "It's a little too far to walk to the Fudge Castle.  
I figured you could use some caf‚ mocha, and maybe a hot 
fudge sundae."

"You're right about that.  How come you always know what I 
need?"

Clark grinned.  "It doesn't exactly take a detective.  
You've had a lot of things to put up with for the last few 
weeks."

"It's not so bad," she said.  He raised an eyebrow.  
"Well," she amended, "it's been inconvenient."

"Inconvenient?"

Lois glanced at her ankle.  "Okay, it's been a royal 
nuisance.  I'll be glad when I'm through with this thing, 
too.  It figures that my car would be on the fritz today.  
I can't figure it out.  It worked fine on Friday."

"I have my suspicions about that," Clark said.  

"Oh?"

"Would you put it past Nunk or one of his 'colleagues' to 
sabotage your Jeep to see if Superman would fly you to 
work?"

"Not for a minute," Lois said.  "That's why you wanted to 
take a cab this morning."

"That's why."

"We really have to do something about those parasites."

"Well, you said you and Mom were working on something."

"Did you see that holographic art project of hers while we 
were in Smallville?"

"Sure."

"I think we can use it."

"A hologram, you mean?"

"Yeah.  We've got to work out some details; we can't have 
anyone trying to touch the hologram or something."

"Not a bad idea..." Clark turned his head sharply.  "Talk 
about a bad penny."

"What?"

"See that van that just came around the corner?"

"Yes."

"The guy at the wheel is Nunk's cameraman."

"Great."  Lois grabbed his elbow.  "Come on, let's get 
inside Rita's.  I'm not going to let that scuzzball cheat 
me out of my sundae."   

Fortunately, Rita's was only a few feet away by now.  By 
the time Nunk and his cameraman appeared in the doorway, 
Lois and Clark were seated in a booth near the back of the 
room and a teenager in a white outfit was taking their 
order.  Lois glanced at the two and sighed.  "Clark, guess 
who's here?"

Clark turned, rolled his eyes and turned back.  Nunk and 
his companion moved up to the table and the cameraman 
raised his camera.  Clark put the menu in front of his 
face.  Lois did the same.  "Go away, Nunk."

"Here's your ice water, Ms. Lane."  The teenager was back, 
carrying a large pitcher of water.  Chips of ice tinkled 
softly against the glass.  "'S'cuse me, sir."  He squeezed 
past Nunk and appeared to stumble.  "Oops!"

Ice water cascaded over Nunk's shirt and the front of his 
slacks.  The teenager scrambled to his feet.  "Sorry, 
dude!"  

"You idiot!"  Nunk brushed vainly at his shirt and swore.  
An ice chip slipped down inside his collar.

"Hey man, I said I'm sorry!"  The boy looked offended.  

Lois handed the red-faced man a paper napkin.  "Here.  
Maybe this will help."

The cameraman had managed to escape all but a few drops of 
the water.  Clark could have sworn he was struggling to 
hide a smile, but an instant later his face was completely 
sober as he helped his boss remove his soaked jacket.  Nunk 
wiggled out of the dripping garment, still swearing.  "I 
demand to see the manager!"

The teenager didn't look particularly worried.  "She's in 
the office.  I'll call her, sir."

When the two men had finally gone, Lois looked up as the 
manager approached the table.  "Thanks, Sharon."

"You're welcome.  I've been waiting for a chance to pay Mr. 
Nunk back ever since he wrote that so-called 'health 
expose' about our shop.  We do *not* have 'mutagens', 
whatever they are, growing in our coffee machine!"

"Or Benjamin Franklin in your blender," Lois said, drily.  
She glanced around as the teenager appeared behind his 
boss.  "Thanks, Danny.  Here's the twenty I promised you."

The boy grinned.  "Any time, Ms. Lane.  I'll have your caf‚ 
mocha and sundae ready in a few minutes."

**********      

It was nearly five by the time they got back to the Planet.  
Claude was nowhere to be seen, a fact Clark regarded with 
some relief.  Meeting the man, as he would probably have to 
do, tomorrow, was not something he anticipated with any 
pleasure.  Clark tidied his workspace and shut down his 
computer in preparation for leaving, aware that Perry was 
watching them unobtrusively from his office.  

After walking Lois home, Clark continued on toward his own 
apartment on foot.  Behind him, he could hear the heartbeat 
of the tail that they had picked up when they left the 
Planet.  He had been fairly sure that the man was following 
him, not Lois, and when the sound of the heartbeats 
continued after he had dropped her off, he was certain of 
it.  Walking briskly, he kept track of the man, making sure 
never to outpace him or to let him become aware that his 
quarry knew he was there.

At his apartment door, he clumsily fumbled his door key and 
dropped it deliberately, then spent thirty seconds or so 
looking for it, before he retrieved the article and 
unlocked his door.

At once, he was aware that his apartment had had a visitor.  
Some of his possessions were not quite where he had left 
them, and the scent of the intruder's cheap cologne 
lingered faintly in the air.  The scent was familiar: it 
was the same one he had smelled on Leo Nunk, earlier in the 
day.

Clark smiled grimly to himself, looking covertly around the 
place with his super-vision as he had done every time he 
entered his apartment since the tabloid surveillance began.  
He had no illusions about the sanctity of his home where 
tabloids were concerned.  

Sure enough, there were two cleverly concealed listening 
devices, one on the underside of a bookshelf in his living 
area and one on the base of the reading lamp in his 
bedroom.  Well, that was easily handled.  Whistling, he 
walked into the bedroom, located a rock station on the 
radio sitting on his nightstand next to the lamp and turned 
it on full blast.  If any listener could discern anything 
over that, he had better hearing than Superman.

An examination of his closet told him that the intruder had 
rifled through his clothing as well, but there was nothing 
to find there.  Clark had taken special care this morning 
to be certain the secret panel in the back could not be 
opened by accident.  Still, the man's behavior was becoming 
more than just an irritation.  It was really too bad he 
didn't have any concrete evidence of Nunk's trespass.  He 
could have had him arrested and charged with breaking and 
entering.  

He paused for a moment, and his eyes narrowed at the 
thought.  Normally, he would have let the whole thing pass 
but he'd become convinced over the last week, ever since 
Nunk's pursuit of him had started, that the man stood in 
dire need of a sharp lesson.  What it might entail, Clark 
had no idea yet, but he'd think of an appropriate one, 
eventually.  

Well, he had a date with Lois to prepare for.  Maybe they 
could discuss the problem over dinner.  

He went into the bathroom and began to undress at normal 
human speed.  The man following him would notice if he 
managed to prepare for his date too quickly; he had no 
doubt of that, so he would just have to make sure that 
nothing seemed out of the way at all.  Whether it was Nunk, 
or one of his co-workers at the Whisper--or even some other 
so-called journalist from one of the other tabloid rags--he 
was about to be treated to a very dull evening.  At least, 
Clark reflected while pouring shampoo in his hair, it would 
be dull from an outsider's perspective.  He had no 
intention of his date with Lois being dull in any shape, 
fashion or form. 

Ready at last, he glanced at his watch.  He had just twenty 
minutes to walk over to Lois's apartment.  Her Jeep 
wouldn't be ready until tomorrow morning, so they would 
have to call a cab from her place.  Calmly, he switched off 
the radio and left the room.  

His tail was still there, he noted as he locked the door to 
his apartment.  In fact, he spotted the man standing in the 
shadow of a doorway across the street.  It was the 
cameraman, and he still held his camera.  Clark started 
briskly up the street toward Carter Avenue.

Tony's was still selling flowers and he stopped to buy a 
bouquet for Lois, then proceeded on, whistling softly, 
until he reached her apartment house.  Without a glance in 
the direction of the cameraman, he entered the building and 
rang for the elevator.

When he knocked at the door, Lois's voice called, "Just a 
minute, Clark!"

He waited.  He could hear her footsteps inside and a moment 
later, the door opened.  Clark almost stopped breathing.  

Lois looked spectacular; that was the only description he 
could think of.  She wore a simple, low cut black dress 
that hugged her curves.  A string of milky pearls and a 
pair of pearl earrings set off the dress and her hair and 
makeup were perfect, as well as quite different from her 
professional style at work.  The changes might not be all 
that great, but somehow the combination was enough to 
dazzle him.  Or, maybe it was just the expression on her 
face.  She looked a little nervous, but she was smiling.  
"Hi, Clark.  I'm almost ready.  Come on in."

He obeyed and shut the door behind him.  "Here, I got these 
for you."

"Oh."  She took the flowers.  "They're beautiful, Clark.  
Thank you."

While she went to put the flowers in water, he lowered his 
glasses and scanned the apartment, half-expecting to find 
it bugged.

It was.  There was one under the edge of the coffee table 
and another in her bedroom.  An unexpected, cold anger took 
hold of him.  It was one thing for Nunk to harass him, but 
to go after Lois as well was too much.  The man was going 
to pay for this.

Lois re-entered the room.  "I guess we can go.  It's too 
bad my car is still in the shop."

Clark picked up the note pad by her telephone and scribbled 
a message at super speed.  She raised her eyebrows, but the 
expression of surprise vanished when she read the message.  
She glanced around, questioningly.

Clark silently indicated the listening device.  "Do you 
want to call a cab or do you just want to take the chance 
of flagging one down?"

"I guess you better call.  Let me get my wrap."

Outside the apartment a few minutes later, she finished 
locking her door and fastened the deadbolt as well.  "Don't 
tell me--Nunk?"

"Probably," he said.  "I smelled his cologne in my place 
and his cameraman followed us from work and trailed me over 
here."

"I think I've had it with that guy," she said.  "Do you 
suppose he's going to follow us around for the whole 
evening?"

"Probably.  Nunk's behind it, though."

"I don't know why someone hasn't murdered him before this," 
Lois said.  "He can't even leave us alone on our date.  
He's going to pay for this."

"That's for sure," Clark said.  He rang for the elevator.  
"In the meantime, let's just go to dinner and ignore our 
shadow.  I can't imagine anything more boring than watching 
somebody else's date."

Lois nodded.  "Good idea."

"It's too bad I couldn't take you dancing," he said.  "Once 
your ankle's healed, we'll do that, too."

"I liked the kind of dancing you showed me, that night in 
my apartment," she said.  "Dancing on air.  Unfortunately, 
we can't do that either, as long as Nunk and his flunky are 
bothering us."

"Well, hopefully we can deal with that in the near future," 
he said.  "Until then though, we're just going to have to 
behave like any other normal couple.  And, we can always 
plan our revenge on Nunk in the meantime.  Nothing harmful, 
just humiliating and inconvenient."

"Speak for yourself," Lois said.  "I'm thinking in terms of 
boiling in oil."

**********

"I had a wonderful evening, Clark," Lois said.  They stood 
in front of her apartment door.  A glance at his watch on 
the way up in the elevator had told him that it was nearly 
midnight.

He smiled down at her.  "So did I."

"Would you like to come in?" she asked.  He hesitated, 
recalling the bug, then nodded.  The listener or listeners 
would expect it.  He followed her inside.

Lois gestured to the sofa.  "Sit down and I'll get you some 
coffee."

Clark smiled.  "I've had enough coffee."  He moved closer 
to her.  "It seems like we never have time just to relax 
together and enjoy each other's company.  I had a great 
time."

She let him slide his arms around her and lifted her face 
to his.  Taking that as an invitation, Clark kissed her.

After an interval during which time seemed to stop, he 
pulled his face back about an inch.  "I love you, Lois."

"I know."  She brushed her fingers across his cheek.  "I 
love you too, Clark.  When I think of all the time that I 
spent hero-worshipping Superman, I could kick myself.  Why 
I was so stupid as to want someone who belongs to the whole 
world when I had someone like you working right next to me, 
I have no idea."

He kissed her again, more slowly.  "I'm not complaining."  
A third kiss followed.  "I have you now and Superman 
doesn't."

Lois didn't answer, but merely kissed him again.  

When he left, twenty minutes later, it was with great 
reluctance and the knowledge that if he hadn't left then, 
he probably wouldn't have at all.  It was just as well, he 
thought, that they had both been at least peripherally 
aware of the listener or things could have easily gotten 
carried away.  They had been careful about what they said, 
though.  Nunk and his cronies would have no idea that he 
and Lois knew the bugs were there.  There had been a 
certain amount of acting involved, but not much.  Tomorrow 
they would take care of the things and the ones in his 
apartment, too.

**********

Clark was awakened early the next morning by the ringing of 
his phone.  Blearily, he glanced at the clock on his 
nightstand.  The device informed him blandly that it was 
five a.m.  Still half asleep, he fumbled for the receiver.  
"H'lo?"

"Clark?" Lois's voice said, and something in her tone 
brought him awake.  "Perry just called me.  There was a 
breakout at the Metro Detention Facility two hours ago."

A sense of foreboding tugged at him.  "Who?"

"Diana Stride," Lois said.  "She apparently had outside 
help."

"Probably Intergang," Clark said.

"Probably."  

"Look, make sure your doors are locked.  I doubt she'll try 
anything against you.  The DA has your deposition and she's 
going to be too busy hiding from the police, anyway."  He 
glanced at the bug stuck unobtrusively to the base of his 
reading lamp, picking up every word he spoke.  "Do you want 
me to come over?"

"No, I just thought you should know what happened.  The 
police are setting up roadblocks, looking for her.  My bet 
is she's already gone to ground and no one's going to find 
her.  At least, not tonight."

"You're probably right," Clark agreed.  He glanced through 
the wall at the figure of his tail, still doggedly parked 
on the steps of the deli across the street and two doors 
down the block.  It figured that Nunk would assign somebody 
else for the duty.  The cameraman was huddled in an 
overcoat, his head drooping sleepily.  Nunk, himself, was 
probably sound asleep in bed, he thought.  He couldn't do 
the job he did if he were very concerned about the feelings 
or comfort of other people.     

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked Lois.

"I'm sure, Clark," she said.  "I'll see you in the 
morning."

"All right.  G'night."  He waited until she hung up and set 
down the receiver.  Thoughtfully, he turned off the bedside 
lamp and sighed.  If he left to help in the hunt for Diana 
Stride, whoever was listening would probably know it.  He 
didn't think he snored, but the bug had almost certainly 
been placed where it was to pick up the sounds of his 
breathing and alert the listener if he left.

He told himself Lois was probably right.  It had been two 
hours since the breakout.  Diana had undoubtedly gone to 
ground by this time so in that context, there was no 
immediate need for him to leave but it wasn't likely that 
he was going to get any more sleep tonight, anyway.  He was 
too wide-awake.  It was just as well that he'd never needed 
as much sleep as most people.

After a few moments, he got out of bed and padded barefoot 
into the living room.  Turning on a low light on his way, 
he grabbed the remote and turned on the television.

An infomercial touting the benefits of SuperCreme, 
guaranteed to melt inches off the waistline, met his gaze.  
He switched channels to a Metropolis news station but an 
advertisement for some kind of breast enlargement product 
was showing, followed by one for bail bonds.  He flopped 
down on the couch, waiting impatiently.

When the news broadcaster came on, the news concerned the 
peace talks going on between two small countries that had 
been scrapping over their mutual border for centuries.  He 
rose from the couch and went into the kitchen to make tea.  
Minutes later he was back, sipping the vigorously steaming 
liquid.  The local weather forecaster was predicting cool, 
breezy conditions for tomorrow with scattered showers, 
heavy at times and a 20% chance for a thunderstorm. 

At last, the subject turned to local news.  The picture 
switched to the inside of a building, numerous uniformed 
police coming and going and a small knot of reporters 
surrounding a grey-haired, harassed-looking man.  A voice-
over informed the viewers that the former host of Top Copy, 
Diana Stride, now believed to be an international assassin 
for Intergang, had escaped.  The Metropolis Detention 
Facility where she was currently being held had been 
infested with noxious fumes that forced the evacuation of 
the building and when the air had been rendered breathable 
again and the prisoners rounded up from the exercise yard, 
it was discovered that Diana Stride was gone.

Clark finished his tea and glanced at the living room 
clock.  The time was now a quarter to six, almost time to 
get up, anyway.  He might as well shower and prepare for 
work.

He was just stepping out of the shower, ten minutes later, 
when the phone rang.  This was probably the one he'd been 
expecting.

He padded across the bedroom and picked up the receiver.  
"Hello?"

"Clark?  It's Lois again.  Check your apartment.  I just 
found something that looks like a bug in my living room."  

It was the call they had planned last night at dinner.  
"Lois, slow down.  What kind of bug?  A cockroach?"

"A microphone.  A listening device!  Actually, two of them.  
There's one in my bedroom and after I looked around, I 
found another one in my living room.  I'm going to look 
again before I go to work and see if I can find any 
others."

"Nunk," Clark said.  "Thanks for the heads up, Lois...well, 
well, what do you know?  There seems to be something 
sticking to my lamp.  You know, I think I'm getting a 
little upset with Mr. Nunk."

"You and me, both.  We'll talk about it when you get here."

"It'll take me about twenty minutes.  Don't forget to look 
around.  You might call for Superman and have him check the 
place."

"I don't want to bother him; he might be busy.  I'll see 
you soon.  Love you."

"Love you, too."  Clark hung up and spoke to the 
microphone.  "The game's up, Nunk."

He pulled the listening device off his lamp, dropped it on 
the floor and crushed it with his bare heel.

**********

Twenty minutes later, Lois was waiting for him when he 
knocked.  They rode the elevator down and began their walk 
to work.

"I'm supposed to call about the Jeep," Lois said.  "My 
mechanic said it would be ready this morning."

"I hope so," Clark said.  "In case you're wondering, we 
still have a tail.  Somebody I've never seen before 
replaced the other guy just before I started over here."

"I wonder if we could get an injunction against the Whisper 
for harassment," Lois said.

"Maybe, but I doubt it.  We'd have to present evidence it 
was their people who planted the bugs and are following us 
around.  There's no law against their using the same street 
as us."

"Yeah.  Well, let me think about it," she said.  "There 
must be something we can do until we work out how to set up 
the other thing."

"Just don't break any major laws, okay?" he said.

"I'll do my best.  Oh, by the way, did Jimmy ever get back 
to you with that information on Theodore Hurst?  I never 
thought to ask, what with Claude showing up, and Nunk 
bothering us."

"Yeah, he did.  I didn't have a chance to look at it.  I 
was going to dig it out when I got back from the ribbon-
cutting ceremony, but it kind of slipped my mind.  It's in 
my desk."

A short time later, they approached the Planet.  As might 
have been predicted, Leo Nunk was waiting on the corner.  
He started toward them with a smile.  "Lois, Clark."  

The two reporters looked at each other and then Lois put 
two fingers in her mouth and produced a shrill, loud 
whistle.  People turned to look, including a Planet 
Security officer who was approaching the front door of the 
building.  Instantly, he hurried over to the two reporters.  

"Ms. Lane, Mr. Kent.  Is Mr. Nunk bothering you?"

"He sure is," Lois said.  "Could you do something about 
him, please?"

"No problem."  The man turned to the tabloid reporter.  
"Scram, Nunk.  If I see you hanging around here today, I've 
got orders from my boss to have you arrested for 
loitering."

"You can't hide forever, Superman," Nunk said.  

Clark sighed.  "Have you ever heard the old saying about 
barking up the wrong tree, Nunk?"

"Come on, Clark," Lois said.  "Unlike Mr. Nunk, we've got a 
job to do.  Thanks, Don."

The security man nodded.  "No problem, Ms. Lane."  He 
folded his arms and stared at Nunk.  "Just what part of 
'scram' didn't you understand, pal?  Beat it!"

**********     

When they entered the newsroom a few minutes later, Lois 
glanced around nervously.  She knew she shouldn't; that as 
far as she was concerned, Claude Chabert should be just 
another, not very important colleague, but she couldn't 
help feeling slightly on the defensive where he was 
concerned.  Clark must have noticed because he put one hand 
lightly in the small of her back in an almost possessive 
manner.  She found the gesture oddly reassuring. 

Claude was nowhere to be seen this morning and she recalled 
that when he worked here, he had never been one for early 
arrivals.

Perry was already here, as might be expected, and others 
were still arriving.  As they turned toward the ramp, the 
stairwell door opened and Jimmy Olsen emerged, a large box 
of what were probably doughnuts in his hands.  He went past 
them with a hurried greeting, descended the ramp and 
crossed the Pit toward Perry.

Lois and Clark followed at a more sedate pace.  

"I'll get our morning coffee while you get set up," Clark 
said.  "Then I'll find that stuff on Hurst."

"Bring me a doughnut, would you?" Lois said.  "All I had 
this morning was black coffee."

"Sure," Clark said.  "What kind?"

"I don't suppose they have low cal doughnuts, do they," 
Lois said.  "How about one with icing?"

"Icing it is."  Clark said.  A few moments later he 
returned with the promised items.  Lois took her cup 
carefully from the hand that held both cups and freed the 
requested doughnut from the other.  Clark was left with his 
own.  He went over to his desk, set them down and opened a 
drawer, hunting for the printout, licking sticky icing from 
the fingers of his left hand as he did so.  

"You know," he said, laying the paper on her desk, "it's 
just barely possible that this might give us some kind of 
lead on Diana.  He was her contact before she was arrested.  
He might be the one that handled her escape."

"I was wondering about that," Lois said.  "Let's see--he 
arrived in Metropolis three years ago.  Well, we know from 
our research on Intergang that they move into an area 
gradually and prepare the ground before Cost Mart arrives.  
At least, that's the pattern they've shown in other 
places."

"True.  And at the time, Luthor was the crime boss in 
Metropolis.  They had to know he'd be hard to deal with," 
Clark said.  "It seems to me that they were always very 
careful to avoid anything The Boss had a hand in, anywhere 
in the world."

"That's true.  Hmmm--"  Lois frowned at the printout.  
"He's married.  Wife's maiden name: Mary Elliott.  He's a 
Cost Mart senior manager--started at Cost Mart ten years 
ago in New Jersey, stocking shelves.  He's sure come up in 
the world.  I think we should go visit Mr. Hurst's place--
when no one is home."

"Elliott," Clark said.  "Where have I heard that name, 
recently?"

"I don't know.  Who do we know named Elliott?"

Clark was frowning at the paper.  He raised his head.  
"Jimmy!"

Jimmy arrived at Lois's desk slightly out of breath.  "Man, 
you don't waste any time getting started in the morning, do 
you?"   

"This stuff on Theodore Hurst you gave me, yesterday.  Did 
you find any information on his wife?"

"You didn't ask for it," Jimmy said.  "I can get it pretty 
easily."

"Would you, please?  As fast as possible?"

"Sure," Jimmy said.  "Give me a few minutes."

As Jimmy headed for his own desk, the bell announced the 
arrival of the elevator.  Lois looked up in time to see the 
doors open.  Claude stepped out.

Lois froze.  The Frenchman surveyed the room with that 
casual manner of his that she remembered so well.  His eyes 
met hers with an almost audible click.  He smiled very 
slightly. 

Lois raised her eyebrows fractionally and turned to Clark.  
"Claude's here," she said.

**********

Clark glanced up at her warning.  Claude Chabert was 
descending the ramp in a leisurely manner.  As he watched, 
the man reached the floor of the Pit and crossed the room 
toward them.

Oh, boy, here it came.  He glanced apprehensively at Lois.

Her expression surprised him.  She was looking calm and 
faintly amused.  With a silent plea to all the gods, past 
and present, that this didn't mean Lois was about to murder 
the man in front of over thirty witnesses, he took a firm 
grip on his courage and nodded pleasantly as Claude arrived 
beside Lois's desk.

"Hello, Claude," Lois said, briskly.  "I heard you were 
back."

"Lois, ma cherie," Claude said, in a tone that made Clark 
bristle instinctively.  "You're looking even more beautiful 
than I remembered."

She raised an eyebrow at him.  "Cut the flattery, Claude," 
she said.  "What do you want?"

He looked faintly surprised.  "Why, nothing, cherie," he 
protested.  "I only wished to say hello to an old friend."

"In that case, I suggest you find one," she said, her tone 
about as welcoming as ice water.  "I have work to do."

"I hoped," Claude said, "that we could put that trivial 
incident behind us and remain friends.  It has been such a 
long time."

"Five years, two months and four days," Lois said.  
"Definitely not long enough.  There's an old saying: If you 
can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.  That 
about covers it--and don't call me cherie."

"Perry hoped that you might give me a starting point for my 
investigation," Claude said, his smile disappearing.  

"Not in this lifetime," Lois said.  "Find some other sucker 
to leech off of.  I don't make the same mistake twice."  
She rose to her feet.  "Excuse me, Clark.  I'm going to get 
more coffee."

The two men were left standing and looking at each other 
uncomfortably.  At last, Claude shrugged.  "I suppose I 
should have known better than to expect her to be 
reasonable."

Clark's hackles went up.  He spoke softly.  "Lois is my 
partner," he said.  "Don't ever say something like that 
about her again, where I can hear you.  Is that clear?"  

The other man looked surprised but he didn't miss a beat.  
"My apologies," he said.  "I spoke out of turn."  With 
that, he turned on his heel and departed in the direction 
of the conference room.  Clark thrust his hands into his 
pockets and followed Lois toward the coffee machine, aware 
that everyone within hearing distance had been watching the 
little tableau with interest and that Ralph was now staring 
at him, open-mouthed.  

**********

Perry watched the confrontation between Lois and Claude 
from his office and debated whether to step in.  If he 
ordered Lois to help the man out she probably would, but 
one look at her face as she crossed to the coffee machine 
made him decide against it.  Reporters like Claude Chabert 
were a dime a dozen, but the Lois Lanes of the world were 
few and far between and this didn't seem to be an ordinary 
disagreement.    

He didn't think asking Clark to assist the man would be a 
good idea, either.  For an instant, he'd thought Clark was 
going to punch the other reporter right there in the 
newsroom.  He hadn't, but it was clear that it had been a 
close thing.  Whatever was between Chabert and Lois had to 
be pretty serious, he thought.  Clark didn't get that angry 
over a trivial argument. 

He scratched his chin with one finger, thinking.  Ever 
since yesterday, when he'd realized that Lois was extremely 
upset over the arrival of the French reporter, he'd been 
unable to completely dismiss the matter from his mind and 
this latest incident simply reinforced it.  There had been 
those rumors that Chabert and Lois had been involved during 
the first months she had been at the Planet.  He'd ignored 
them at the time--Lois was an adult and it hadn't been any 
of his business.  But even if there had been something, and 
if their breakup had been an unpleasant one, it seemed 
unlikely that she would continue to carry that much 
animosity five years later, particularly now that she 
showed all the signs of having developed an interest in her 
partner.  And it was highly unlikely that it would upset 
Clark that much, if at all.  Something else had to be 
behind it.

He scowled at the people moving around out on the newsroom 
floor.  Lois had returned to her workstation and she and 
Clark were apparently reading over the information 
contained on a strip of printer paper that lay on Lois's 
desk. 

Should he ask Lois what the problem was?  He considered 
that for a moment and rejected the idea.  She wasn't likely 
to tell him.  But, he'd been an investigative reporter 
before he'd moved into the position of editor.  Maybe he 
could figure it out on his own.  

He returned to his desk, still thinking.  If the conflict 
wasn't because of a romantic relationship that had gone 
wrong, then it was probably professional.  That was the 
only other thing that was likely to set Lois off that way.  
But, what could it be?  Lois had been a rookie and Chabert 
an experienced reporter.  What would cause Lois to hold 
onto a grudge that severe for over five years?

It was time to do some research into Claude Chabert's 
career at the Planet over the months where it coincided 
with Lois Lane's.  The man had been a decent but mediocre 
reporter up until the brilliant investigation and 
outstanding story that had won him his Kerth.  It had taken 
Perry completely by surprise, but now an unwelcome 
suspicion had begun to intrude itself into his mind.  He 
hoped he was wrong, but all his instincts said it was 
something he should double check. 

Instead of sitting down behind his computer, Perry went to 
the door of his office and opened it.  "Jimmy!" 

**********

"Sorry it took so long, CK."  Jimmy set a computer printout 
on Clark's desk.  "The Chief had me doing some research for 
him."

"No problem, Jim."  Clark picked up the paper and glanced 
over the information.  "Good; this is just what I needed."

"You think this Mary Hurst is involved with Intergang?"

Clark shrugged.  "Maybe.  That's something we'll have to 
find out.  One thing that interested me was her maiden 
name."

"Elliott?"

Clark nodded.  "I knew it sounded familiar.  Her brother is 
Neville Elliott."

"Who's he?" Jimmy asked.

"Neville Elliott was at the Mystery Mansion when Lois and I 
attended the kick-off fundraiser a few weeks ago.  Lois met 
him at the opera when she went there with Luthor, last 
year.  He's a cosmetic surgeon."

"That's weird," Jimmy said.  "I guess it could just be a 
coincidence."

"It could be," Clark agreed.  "It's interesting that his 
name should turn up just now, though.  The first night 
there, we had a kind of strange conversation with him."  He 
was silent for a moment.  "Um, Jimmy, I hate to ask you 
this but--"

Jimmy gave a long-suffering sigh.  "Don't tell me.  You 
want information on this Elliott guy."

Clark could see that under the put upon appearance, he was 
hiding a grin.  "If it's not too much trouble."

The grin broke through.  "I'll try to have it for you by 
this afternoon."

"Have what for us?" Lois asked.  She had approached during 
the conversation.

"More research," Jimmy said.  "I think I should ask the 
Chief for a raise."

"Probably," Clark said.  "Hazardous duty pay, at the very 
least."  

"No kidding."  He turned his head.  "Oops, Eduardo wants me 
for something.  See you later."

Lois picked up a nearby chair and sat down in it next to 
Clark's desk.  "Tell me something."

"What?"

"Did I or did I not quote Disney to Claude, this morning?"

"Well--kind of.  Bambi--and it wasn't an exact quote."

"I guess that's something.  It just popped into my head."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Clark said.  "Look what Jimmy 
found."

"What?"

"Remember, I said I'd heard the name Elliott recently?  
Theodore Hurst's wife is Neville Elliott's sister."

"You're kidding."

Clark shook his head.  "Nope.  Of course, it might not mean 
anything.  Jimmy's going to research him for us."

"I always knew there was something weird about that guy," 
Lois remarked.

"Well, admittedly he was pretty rude to you that night at 
the Mystery Mansion, but that doesn't mean he's involved 
with big time crime.  He might just have been a friend of 
Luthor."

Lois shook her head.  "Lex didn't really like him.  They 
were just polite to each other."

"Well, I guess that's one thing in his favor," Clark said.  

"Yeah, but after we met him, Lex said something funny to me 
about him."

"What?"

"He said--"  Lois wrinkled her brow, obviously trying to 
recall Luthor's exact words.  "He said that Elliott was 'a 
blight on the social landscape, but he has his uses'.  What 
do you make of that?"

"I don't know, but I'd say you're right.  Luthor definitely 
didn't like him.  On the other hand, he didn't like 
Superman, either."

Lois smacked his shoulder.  "Yes--but I wouldn't compare 
Neville Elliott to Superman!"

"I'm glad of that," Clark said, grinning.  "Seriously 
though, maybe we should check him out along with Hurst.  If 
Luthor had a use for him, it probably wasn't for anything 
good."

**********

It was about two hours later that Lois saw Clark lift his 
head in the way that meant that he was hearing something no 
one else could.  He looked straight at her and made a 
little gesture with one hand that she knew meant Superman 
was needed.  She nodded and watched as he headed toward the 
stairs.

"Kent returning a library book again?" Ralph's voice asked 
from beside her.

"He's just going down to the morgue to dig up some old 
files," Lois said, turning her head to glare irritably at 
him.  "You know, Ralph, that line's getting old, really 
fast.  Clark's a better reporter than any man in this room-
-with the possible exception of Perry.  So drop it, will 
you?"

"Sorry, Lane."  Ralph rolled his eyes.  "Geez, It was just 
a joke!"

"Yeah, well it's not funny anymore!"

"Don't you have a story you're supposed to be working on, 
Ralph?" Perry's voice said.  Lois glanced over her shoulder 
to see her boss come to a stop behind her chair as Ralph 
scurried away.  He rested a hand on the chair back and 
lowered his voice.  "You okay, honey?"

She sighed.  "Yeah, I'm fine.  It's been a rough few 
weeks."

"It sure has."  Perry glanced at the stairs where Clark had 
disappeared.  "No wonder Clark's in such good condition 
with the amount of stair climbing he does."

"It's one way he keeps in shape," Lois said, wondering 
where this was leading.

"It's good to see one of my people trying so hard to stay 
fit," Perry said.  "This morning, I thought he was going to 
punch Chabert.  I'm glad he restrained himself."

Lois hadn't seen that.  She started to reply, but Perry was 
continuing.  "Not that I blame him, actually."

"Huh?"

"I spent some time this afternoon re-reading that story 
that won Chabert his Kerth.  Not his usual style at all."

"What?"

"In fact, up until then, his writing was pretty ordinary.  
I had Jimmy dig up some of his other work and took a look 
at it.  That one story was an outstanding piece of 
journalism.  If I didn't know better, I'd think it was 
yours."

Lois could feel her jaw drop.  Perry continued in a 
meditative way, "It's interesting, really.  Before you came 
to the Planet, he was a decent reporter.  He never set the 
world on fire, but he was a good workhorse.  Then, a few 
months after you got here, Chabert turned in this 
incredible, front page story that rightfully won an award 
for investigative journalism.  I've only seen that kind of 
work and that kind of writing from one other reporter since 
then--and that reporter has since won three more Kerths.  
Even the writing style is yours."  He paused for a second 
and when he spoke again, his slight Southern accent had 
become more pronounced.  "Is there anything you'd like to 
tell me, Lois?"

She could only stare at him in shock.  Perry's expression 
didn't change.  "It was your story, wasn't it?"

She nodded. 

"I thought so.  He stole an award-winning story from you.  
You were a rookie, and you figured no one would take your 
word over his.  Am I right?"

Again, she nodded, unable to speak.  

Perry smiled slightly.  "And that award should rightfully 
have been yours.  I don't know if there's anything we can 
do about it at this late date, but we'll see.  In the 
meantime, tell your partner not to punch him, would you, 
honey?  I don't want Clark thrown in jail on an assault 
charge."

Lois could only nod wordlessly and stare after him as he 
turned and made his way back to his office.  One thing was 
for certain, she thought, after her brain finally started 
to function coherently again.  Perry sure hadn't become the 
editor here because he could yodel.

**********

Clark returned to the office nearly an hour later.  Lois 
had heard the report on the radio about the explosion of 
the cabin cruiser just outside Hobs Bay and the presence of 
Superman, so his return wasn't a surprise.  

"Hey, Kent--find anything down in the morgue?" Ralph 
inquired.  "Like lost library books, maybe?"  He laughed 
heartily at his own joke.

Clark continued on to his desk, ignoring the man.  He 
didn't look as if he was in the mood for Ralph's humor at 
the moment, Lois thought.  From what she'd heard, not even 
Superman had been able to locate any survivors.  He'd told 
her once that he knew he couldn't save everyone--that it 
was Lois, herself, who had shown him that.  But to Clark, 
anyone's life was important.  He didn't like it when he was 
too late, even though he might intellectually accept his 
limitations.  After a second, she rose and went over to his 
desk.

"You okay?" she asked, softly.

"Huh?  Yeah, I guess so.  By the time I got there, it was 
too late.  I hunted for survivors but from the size of the 
explosion, it had to have been a bomb.  I scanned the whole 
area--nothing."

"Nothing?"

He shook his head.  "No sign of anyone, alive or dead.  The 
only thing I found was a suitcase floating in the water.  
The police have it--they hope it might give them a clue to 
who was in the boat."

She waited for him to continue.  When he didn't, she 
prodded.  "Didn't you look it over?  You know--buzz-buzz?"

"Buzz-buzz?"

"Uh-huh."

He smiled reluctantly.  "Yeah.  There was a passport in it.  
The name was Jocelyn Monroe."

"I've never heard of her," Lois said.  

"I've never heard the name," Clark agreed, "but I 
recognized the picture.  It was Diana Stride."

**********
    
"Any sign of Nunk?" Lois asked in a whisper.

Clark lowered his glasses and glanced around.  "I don't see 
him.  Maybe Security had him arrested."

"His paper would bail him out before the paperwork was 
finished," Lois said.  "He might be hanging around the 
garage entrance, since we sneaked out that way before."

Clark pushed open the side door of the Planet building and 
the two of them made a hasty exit.  "The bus comes by in 
five minutes.  We're going to have to hurry."

"I'm just glad Perry let us go early enough to get to the 
repair place before it closes," Lois said.  "I miss my 
car."

They walked toward the bus stop as quickly as Lois's 
athletic cast would permit.  True to the weather forecast 
early that morning, a light, spring rain was falling and 
Clark found himself wishing he had brought an umbrella.  
They were both wearing light coats but the little drops of 
water speckled the lenses of his glasses, distorting his 
vision and making it harder to see.

As they arrived at the bus stop, the bus pulled up to the 
curb with a groan of brakes, a spattering of water droplets 
and a thick belch of exhaust.  Lois made a face.  "Whew!  
I'm glad I don't have to ride on these most of the time!"

"Me too."  Clark gave her a hand onto the high step.  
"Watch it; it's a little slippery."

"There's Nunk," Lois said, nodding out the window that 
faced the street as she pushed her way down the central 
aisle.  Clark glanced around as the battered van rounded 
the corner.  He lowered his glasses slightly to verify her 
identification. 

"Yep, it's him, all right.  I'm starting to wonder how come 
he's always right on top of us, every time we leave the 
Planet."

Lois grasped one of the overhead straps to steady herself 
as the bus lurched into motion.  "Amazing coincidence, 
isn't it?  I wonder if someone in the newsroom is notifying 
him when we go somewhere."

"They'd have to follow us to know which way we're using," 
Clark mused.  He pulled the handkerchief from his back 
pocket and wiped water drops from the lenses of his glasses  
"I think I'll watch, the next time we leave for some reason 
and see if we have a tail.  I'd hate to think that someone 
at the Planet is helping Nunk but it's happened before."

"My question is how we're going to avoid him when we get 
off the bus," Lois said.  "I think he's following us."

"We might have to put up with him," Clark said.  "The guy's 
persistent, I'll give him that."  

"Too persistent," Lois said, crossly.  "How are we supposed 
to conduct any kind of investigation with him practically 
hanging onto our ankles?"

"We'll think of something to distract him," Clark said.  "I 
think it's too late this time, though.  Here.  Use this to 
keep off the cameraman."  He picked up a copy of the 
Whisper that lay on the floor.  A picture of himself, his 
face mostly obscured by a notebook, adorned the front page.  
Examining it critically, he had to admit to a slight 
satisfaction.  What could be seen of him looked nothing 
like Superman.  For one thing, he was slouching and the 
horn-rimmed glasses he had taken to wearing since the 
pursuit by Nunk and the other tabloid reporters--admittedly 
nowhere as persistent as Nunk--made him look like a 
slightly rumpled version of the math teacher whose class he 
had attended in ninth grade.

Lois took the paper from his hand and examined the picture 
on the front.  "Nice picture."

"Isn't it," Clark said.

Lois took several sheets from the inside and handed them 
back to him.  "Here's your cover."

"Thanks."  He arranged the pages neatly together.  

The bus made several stops before it reached the street 
closest to the repair shop.  As they descended from the 
vehicle, Clark glanced cautiously toward the white van, now 
several cars back.  The driver was looking frantically 
around for a parking space.

"Hurry," he said.  "Before he finds a place to park."

They arrived at the office of Jake's Auto Repair with Lois 
slightly out of breath and dodged inside.  She gave a sigh 
of relief as the door closed behind them.  The man behind 
the counter looked up in surprise.  "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," Lois said, wiping water from her face.  "I'm Lois 
Lane.  I'm here to get my Jeep."

"Oh, right.  I've got your paperwork right here."

"Could you hurry, please?" Lois said, glancing out the 
wide, front window.

The cashier produced a sheaf of papers, stapled at one 
corner, and looked curiously at her.  "Is there a problem, 
Ms. Lane?"

"Kind of," Lois said.  "There's a creep from the Whisper 
following us."

The man raised his eyebrows.  "Leo Nunk?" he inquired.

Lois stared at him.  "How did you know?"

"He was here, earlier.  He wanted me to let him see your 
car and look inside.  He offered me a hundred dollars, 
too," the man added, regretfully.  "I didn't, though.  I 
could have gotten fired."

"I'm glad you didn't let him," Lois said.  "He's been 
following us around for a week."

The man glanced at Clark, who was leaning against the wall, 
waiting and trying to look as un-Supermanish as possible.  
"Yeah, I read all about it.  That Nunk guy should be 
writing fantasy novels or something.  If you'll pardon me, 
Mr. Kent, you don't look anything like Superman.  No 
offense, but you're not tall enough, for one thing."

"No kidding," Clark said.

"Well," Lois said, opening her checkbook and beginning to 
write,  "it would sure be some trick.  Clark and I 
interviewed Superman last week.  Do you remember the water 
main break in front of City Hall--the one that just about 
swallowed that tour bus?  Superman pulled them out of the 
sinkhole, you know.  Even he can't be in two places at 
once."

The clerk snorted.  "That's for sure."  He looked up as the 
jingle of the door opening announced the arrival of Leo 
Nunk and his photographer.  Clark lifted the section of the 
Whisper that he'd found on the bus and blocked the 
photographer's view.

"Here you go," Lois said, handing the check to the clerk.  
She glanced at Nunk.  "Don't you have rules against vermin 
in your office?"

"Very funny," Nunk said.  "And don't think I've forgiven 
you for that ice water trick."

"I haven't a clue what you're talking about."  Lois held 
her own section of the paper in front of her face.  "Can 
somebody bring my car around, please?  I want to get out of 
here before I catch something contagious."

"It'll be here in a minute, Ms. Lane."  The man behind the 
counter smothered a grin and turned to the two reporters 
from the Whisper.  "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Uh, uh."  Nunk was holding his microphone toward Lois.  
"Reading my work, Lois?"

"No, just looking for a bird cage."  She picked up her 
checkbook and turned, nearly bumping directly into the man.  
"Would you mind moving back an inch or two?  Your breath 
smells really bad."

Clark broke into a series of coughs and cleared his throat 
loudly.  Everyone knew that Superman didn't get sick.  Out 
of the corner of his eye, he saw Lois's Cherokee pull up 
outside and began to edge out the door.  The photographer 
stepped in his way, thrusting the camera into his face.  
Clark had had enough.  He put a hand firmly over the lens 
and gripped the device, twisting it out of the other man's 
fingers.  

"Hey!  You can't take my camera!" the cameraman protested.

Clark opened the back, shook out the film, tossed it to the 
floor and ground the heel of his shoe into it.  "Sue me," 
he said.  "Here."  He thrust the camera into the 
photographer's hands and pushed past him through the door.  
"And the next time I find my apartment bugged, you're going 
to regret it, Nunk.  Come on, Lois."

"Wow," Lois said, as she slammed the driver's door.  "You 
don't usually lose your temper like that."

Clark didn't answer at once.  Lois put the Jeep in forward 
and pulled away from the repair shop.  At last, he sighed.  
"I suppose I shouldn't have."

"No, I think that's exactly what you should have done.  
Superman doesn't lose his temper but you did."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely."

"I'll take your word for it.  We're going to have to do 
something about him.  I've had it up to here."

"I kind of guessed that," Lois said.  "I think we should 
talk to Perry about an injunction against the Whisper for 
Nunk's harassment.  This time we had a witness--and it will 
be more convincing for anyone who wonders about the 
Superman/Clark Kent connection."  Suddenly, she put a hand 
over her mouth.  "Ohmigod, I didn't think.  Do you suppose 
he bugged the car?"

"No, I already checked.  Although that's probably why he 
tried to bribe the clerk for a look at it."

"Probably," Lois said.  She glanced over her shoulder.  
"That--"  She bit off the word.  "They're following us."

Clark looked back and at once identified the battered white 
van, four cars behind them.  "I guess it takes a lot to 
discourage tabloid reporters.  I imagine we're not the 
first people to get irritated at being trailed around."

"I'm sure we're not.  But he's going to find out he made a 
mistake tangling with us.  Nobody interferes with me when 
I'm following a story."  She stepped on the gas, 
maneuvering through the crowd of rush hour traffic with 
more than her usual aggressiveness.  Clark ignored the 
blare of horns from irritated drivers.  

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the Planet.  I want to talk to Perry and you need 
to sneak out via the roof and find out if the police have 
learned anything more about Diana Stride.  You really think 
that was her in the boat?"

"I can't see any other reason why a suitcase with her 
passport in it was floating out there in the water."

"Then she's probably dead."

"Probably.  Maybe Intergang decided she was too much of a 
liability."

"Well, it sure wouldn't surprise me," Lois said.

"Me, either."  He debated a moment.  "Could I ask you 
something kind of personal that's off the subject?"

"Maybe.  I don't promise to answer you, though."

"How did you know how long it's been since Claude stole 
your story?"

"Oh, that."  Lois grinned.  "I didn't.  I figured he 
wouldn't remember exactly when it was, so I bluffed."

That surprised a laugh out of him.  "Good for you."  He 
glanced in the rear view mirror.  "Nunk's only two cars 
back, now."

"Oh for James Bond's car.  I'd love to throw an oil slick 
out for him."  She glanced back over her shoulder.  "Okay, 
pal, you want to make this into a contest?  You're on."

"Lois--"

"Just hang on, Clark.  I'm going to show this guy how to 
*drive*!"

Clark resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead took a 
firm grip on the armrest, reflecting that Superman could 
rescue them if they got into too much trouble.

Lois glanced alertly about as they entered the intersection 
and then made a sharp U-turn into the opposing lane.  Horns 
honked, brakes screeched and water sprayed.  A gap opened 
in the line of cars as a horrified driver saw the Jeep 
headed right for him and slammed on his brakes.  Lois 
neatly inserted the Cherokee into the open space.  Clark 
gritted his teeth, trying to appear casual, and glanced 
sideways at Nunk's van.

The cameraman was twisting his head frantically, looking 
for a space to turn.  Lacking Lois's iron nerves--or 
borderline insanity, Clark reflected--he was having 
difficulty accomplishing the feat.  Lois didn't give him 
time to find one.  She made an immediate right turn into 
the cross street and then turned right again down an alley.  
A stray cat leaped from the top of a trash can to the four-
inch ledge that ran around the corner building as the Jeep 
lurched and bounced its way over the cracked cement of the 
alley, splattering water from the gathering puddles as it 
went.  In less than a minute, they had reached the alley's 
exit onto a narrow back street.  Lois turned left.  Clark 
released his grip on the armrest and let out his breath.

Lois glanced at him, a satisfied grin on her face.  "Do I 
make you nervous?" she inquired, innocently.

"A little.  Where did you learn to drive like that?"

"I took a course in police driving."

Naturally.  "I'm not even going to ask how you wangled 
that.  Let's get out of here before Nunk and his sidekick 
catch up to us."

"You have to remember; I know guys who know guys.  Being 
able to drive like that saved my skin a few times before I 
met you, too."  Lois proceeded at a much saner speed down 
the narrow thoroughfare.  "Anyway, I'm going to stick to 
the back streets.  I think they'll be a lot less crowded 
than the main ones."

Her prediction proved to be correct and a short time later 
they were pulling into the Planet's underground parking 
lot.

"I don't see Nunk anywhere," Clark reported.  

"He's probably still stuck in traffic."  Lois opened her 
door.  "Let's go up to the newsroom and talk to Perry and 
then Superman can head over to police headquarters and see 
if there's any more information on that explosion."

********** 

Predictably, Perry hadn't left yet, even though the time 
was now quarter to six.  What was more surprising was that 
Jimmy Olsen was still there.  He looked up from his 
computer screen as the two of them descended the short 
flight of steps into the Pit.  "What are you guys doing 
back here?"

"We forgot something," Lois said.  "Is Perry busy?"

"Probably, but I think he'd be willing to talk to you," 
Jimmy said.  

"How are you doing after your first full day back?" Clark 
asked, pausing by his desk.

"Kind of tired."  Jimmy made an unsuccessful attempt to 
scratch the healing scar on his back.  "Those half days 
were great but I was getting bored, you know?"

"Yeah, I think I do."  Clark glanced at the clock.  "Why 
are you still here, anyway?"

"Just finishing that research you asked me to do.  I'm just 
about done."

"I'm sure it can wait for tomorrow," Clark said.  "You look 
like you need a rest."  

"I'm ready to go home," Jimmy admitted.  "Anyway, I hope 
it's what you need."

"I'm sure it is.  Why don't you say good night?"

"I will in a minute...ah!  There!"  He leaned back in his 
chair.  "Just wait until this prints up and then I'm outta 
here."

Clark grinned.  "If there's anything else, I'm sure it can 
wait until tomorrow."

Jimmy nodded and stretched.  "I just want to nail these 
Intergang types if we can.  The printout will be ready in a 
couple of minutes."

"Just don't wear yourself out over it," Clark said.  "It's 
not going to happen all at once.  Intergang is 
multinational and bringing it down is going to take time."  
He slapped Jimmy lightly on the shoulder.  "I better go 
talk to Perry.  See you tomorrow."

**********

Lois was already speaking to their boss when he entered the 
editor's office.  Perry glanced at him as he opened the 
door, a frown on his face.

"Is Nunk being as much of an irritant to you as he is to 
Lois, Clark?"

"At least as much," Clark said.  "She told you about the 
bugged apartments?"

"I hadn't gotten to that part, yet," Lois said.  "I'd just 
finished with what happened at the repair shop."

"He bugged your apartments?"  Perry's face was a study in 
annoyance.  "I don't suppose you can prove that, though."

"Of course not," Clark said.  "We can prove they followed 
us to the sandwich shop, though, and to the repair place.  
Not to mention, they're always waiting when we come in to 
work in the morning."

"And we both saw the cameraman following us last night," 
Lois added.  "Um--Clark and I went out to dinner.  Nothing 
fancy, but--"

Perry held up his hand.  "Honey, you don't have to explain.  
I know you're dating.  Look, I'll talk to Legal about this 
and see if they think we can get an injunction against 
harassment or somethin'.  It's got to be interferin' with 
your ability to do your jobs."

"To say the least," Lois said.  "Not to mention, I'm 
probably going to kill the slimeball if it doesn't stop 
soon."

Their editor grinned.  "I'll see what I can do.  And by the 
way, Lois, the lawyers heard what I had to say about that 
other matter.  They're looking at the evidence and want to 
know if you're willing to sign an affidavit that the story 
was yours and that Chabert won his award under false 
pretenses."

"You bet I am," Lois said.  "Do they really think there's a 
chance?"

"Well, it depends.  The Kerth Committee will have to look 
at the samples of writing from both of you and compare 
them--and you have a track record to back you up, now.  
We'll see what happens.  At the very least, it'll cast some 
doubt on whether or not he actually wrote the story."

"I'll settle for that if I have to," Lois said.  "And Clark 
knows all about it, too."

"I figured he did," Perry said.  "For a minute I thought 
you were gonna punch the guy, Clark."

"He insulted Lois," Clark said.  "It made me mad.  I 
wouldn't have punched him, though."

"I don't think he was sure of that," Perry said.  "Anyhow, 
please don't.  I don't want to have to bail you out of 
jail."

"I won't."

"Now, is there anything else?"

"No, that about covers it," Lois said.

"Not completely," Clark said.  "We think somebody in the 
newsroom might be tipping Nunk off whenever we're on our 
way out.  He shows up within a few minutes, every time we 
leave--even when we sneak out a side entrance or 
something."

Perry frowned.  "I'd hate to think somebody from the Planet 
might be helping the Whisper," he said.  "Still, it 
wouldn't be the first time.  You got any suggestions what 
we should do about it?"

"We're going to try to watch," Clark said, "but, maybe we 
could get someone here in the newsroom to help--someone we 
know isn't the spy--and have him watch to see if anyone 
leaves right after us."

"Not a bad idea.  You have anyone in mind?"

"Well, yesterday when Lois and I left, Nunk showed up when 
we went out via the basement parking lot.  That was in the 
afternoon--and Jimmy had gone home at two."

"That sounds like he's safe," Perry said.  "I'd have been 
surprised if he wasn't.  Has he left, yet?"

Clark glanced out the window into the newsroom.  Jimmy was 
just setting several sheets of paper on Lois's desk.  "He's 
on his way out."  He quickly opened the door of the office.  
"Jim, could you come here a minute, please?  We'd like to 
ask you for a favor."

**********

A short time later, the evening shift wasn't surprised to 
see Lois at her desk, reading the notes Jimmy Olsen had so 
carefully prepared for her, and her partner nowhere to be 
seen.  Harry Williams passed her desk on the way to his 
own, the ever-present cup of coffee in his hand.  "Hi, 
Lois.  Another late night?"

"Sort of," she said.  "I probably won't be here much 
longer, though.  I'm waiting for a phone call from 
Switzerland."

That wasn't unusual, either.  Harry ambled on over to his 
desk and plopped into the chair.  The late evening shift in 
the Planet newsroom usually didn't have a lot to do, which 
was why he preferred it.  He had only six months left until 
he retired and moved to the little place in the country 
that he and his wife had bought ten years ago.  A year from 
now he'd be raising vegetables in his backyard garden and 
cussing the rabbit and gopher populations.  It would be 
much better for his blood pressure, he knew, and he doubted 
he'd miss the city at all.

The ringing of the phone on Lois's desk interrupted his 
pleasant daydream and he glanced in her direction.  She 
reached out to pick it up and he saw her sit up straight, 
instantly all business.  She made several notes on the pad 
of paper by the phone, thanked the caller and signed off.  
Now, Lois was a great reporter, he thought.  Not to 
mention, easy on the eyes.  For a moment, he envied her 
partner.  Kent had the right temperament and anyone who 
ever saw them working together knew he was crazy about her, 
anyway.

Aware that his wife would disapprove, he looked away in 
time to see the elevator doors open.

The man who entered looked familiar and it took Harry a 
minute to recall where he'd seen him before.  Claude 
something-or-other had been part of the Planet staff 
several years ago.  Harry had never liked him much; it had 
always struck him that the guy was too smooth to be genuine 
and Harry had no use for con artists of any stripe.  
Somewhere along the line, he recalled vaguely, there had 
been a spate of rumors about him and Lois.  Harry had 
disapproved of the arrangement, if true; Lois had been 
about twenty-one or two, a good fifteen years younger than 
the fellow and the phrase "robbing the cradle" came to 
mind, but it hadn't been any of his business.  Just the 
same, he hadn't missed the man when he'd abruptly 
transferred back to the Planet's Paris office.

The Frenchman came across the office to Lois's desk and 
paused beside it.  She looked up, apparently startled.

"Lois, my dear, I wondered if we could talk."  The man's 
voice was deliberately low and Harry surreptitiously turned 
up his hearing aid.  He didn't like the guy's tone of voice 
or the expression on his face and Lois obviously wasn't 
happy to see him.

"I have nothing to say to you, Claude."  Her voice was 
completely expressionless.  "And I'm not your 'dear'." 

"Obviously not.  However, it's come to my attention that 
some unpleasant rumors are circulating about the situation 
involving my Kerth award.  I thought we should straighten 
them out."

"*Your* Kerth?  That was my story, and you know it."

"But no one else does.  In any case, if you insist on 
pursuing this course, I can make life very unpleasant for 
you, Lois.  Our relationship wasn't entirely unknown five 
years ago."

"'Relationship'?  You used our so-called relationship to 
steal my story!"

"And I'm perfectly willing to use that relationship to 
defend my position.  I have a very good imagination, my 
dear."  He used the endearment deliberately.  "Unless you 
wish your reputation to be completely destroyed, you'll 
give up this childish pursuit."

Lois stood up suddenly.  She was considerably shorter than 
the man standing beside her, but he moved back a step in 
the face of her anger.  "Claude, you never did have any 
ethics and I learned that the hard way."  Her voice was 
loud enough that Harry didn't need his hearing aid to 
overhear, and he saw Ben Jacobs glance curiously in her 
direction.  "I didn't fight you five years ago because I 
didn't think anyone would believe a rookie.  I should have 
then, and I'm going to make up for that now.  If you think 
you can ruin my reputation, take your best shot and we'll 
see who convinces whom."

The man reached forward to grasp her by the wrist.  "I'm 
warning you, Lois--"

Harry was on his feet and walking toward the two before he 
realized what he was doing.  He stopped behind Claude.  "Is 
this guy bothering you, Ms. Lane?"

Both combatants seemed to notice him at the same time, and 
Harry could see relief on Lois's face.  Her opponent half-
turned, his dark face contorted in a scowl.  "This is none 
of your business, old man."

"I think it is," Harry said.  "And I think you better get 
your hand off Ms. Lane's arm before I call Security."

Claude slowly released her wrist and Harry could see the 
red marks left by his fingers.  "There, are you satisfied?  
This is a private conversation."

"I will be when I see you walking away."  Harry stood his 
ground.

For a second, Claude hesitated, clearly debating whether to 
give in, then he gave a half-shrug.  "Remember what I said, 
my dear.  I'm not through with this, yet."

"And you remember what *I* said," Lois replied.  Harry had 
to admire her attitude.  "If you want to fight, I'll see 
you in front of the Kerth Committee."

When the man had disappeared into Conference Room 3, she 
turned back to Harry.  "Thanks."

"No problem.  I heard what he said to you.  If you need me 
to back you up to Mr. White--"

She started to answer and then paused.  "You heard all of 
that?"

Harry could feel himself turning red.  "Yeah; every word.  
I didn't like the way he was acting toward you, so I turned 
up my hearing aid and I heard him threaten you.  I probably 
shouldn't have been listening.  Sorry if I--"

"No, that's all right.  You're a reporter.  I'd have 
probably done the same thing."  She was looking thoughtful.  
"I might need you to tell what you saw and heard if he 
tries to carry through, though.  Would you?"

Harry nodded.  "Sure.  That kind of thing gives every 
journalist in the business a bad name."

"Yeah, it does."  He could have sworn she was looking 
embarrassed.  "I appreciate your help, Harry."

"Anytime," Harry said.  "I never liked the jerk, anyway."

**********             

Clark landed on the roof of the Daily Planet building, 
moving too fast to be seen by normal eyes and ducked 
through the door to the stairs.  A second later, he emerged 
into the newsroom.

Lois was obviously waiting for him, and the relief on her 
face surprised him.  "Is something wrong, Lois?"

"Yes and no."  She reached out to ring for the elevator and 
the doors opened almost immediately.

Clark glanced around the newsroom, trying to spot whatever 
might have upset her.  At once, he became aware of an 
additional heartbeat issuing from Conference Room 3.  He 
lowered his glasses to confirm the presence of Claude in 
the other room.

"Come on, Clark," Lois said.  "I can't hold this thing all 
day."

She was holding the door for him.  He quickly boarded the 
elevator and a moment later they were proceeding downward.

"I take it, you and Claude had words?" he asked.

"You could say that."  Lois matter-of-factly tucked a big 
manila envelope under her arm.  "He threatened me."

"He *what*?"

The elevator slid to a stop on the first floor and several 
people crowded in.  Clark resisted the urge to make an exit 
and fly up to the newsroom as Superman to scare the wits 
out of Claude.  Superman was above that sort of thing, he 
reminded himself, sharply.  Besides, he didn't have all the 
facts, yet.

At a snail's pace, they descended toward the parking garage 
once more, and finally the doors popped open with a sigh of 
compressed air.  Lois and Clark hung back, allowing the 
others to exit ahead of them.  Clark lowered his glasses 
and glanced around.  "No Nunk.  What do you mean, Claude 
threatened you?"

"He threatened to ruin my reputation if I didn't back off 
trying to prove that he stole my story."

Clark reminded himself not to grind his teeth.  "And you 
said?"

"I told him to do his worst, but I wasn't backing down."

"Good for you," Clark said.

"Yeah, but now I need to do something about it.  I think it 
would be best to let Perry know the whole truth.  It'll be 
embarrassing, but that way he can operate with all the 
facts."

"Are you sure, Lois?"

She gave a determined nod.  "I'm sure.  I never said 
anything before--except to you.  You have a way of 
inspiring trust, you know?  But I didn't want Perry to know 
what an idiot I'd been.  I mean, it was over and done with, 
Claude had the story and I didn't have any proof, so why 
let anyone know the sordid details?"

"I can understand that," Clark said.

"But, it's different, now," she continued.  "Claude's not 
going to win this one, no matter what it takes.  Even if it 
means humiliating myself in front of Perry and the Kerth 
Committee as well, I'm not going to let that scuzzball 
win."

Lois Lane in fighting mode was an impressive sight to see, 
Clark thought.  "I think you're right," he said.  "Who 
cares about a five-year old piece of gossip, anyway?  I'd 
say it's not worth worrying about.  Besides, if you ask me, 
the one who'll look bad will be Claude.  That was a pretty 
crummy thing to do."

"He'll claim that I'm just doing this for revenge because 
he dumped me," Lois said.  "All the more reason to get to 
Perry first with the details.  Tonight."

They headed for the Jeep.  Clark glanced around again, 
assuring himself that Nunk wasn't waiting by the garage 
exit for them.  "What do you want to do?"

"I called Perry while I was waiting for you.  We're 
supposed to meet him at his house.  I told him I needed to 
tell him the whole story."

"I think you're being smart," Clark said, "and I think 
Perry will think so, too."

"I hope so."  Lois took out her key as they approached the 
Jeep.  "Any bugs?"

Clark lowered his glasses.  "No," he said, after several 
seconds.  "I guess Nunk hasn't found us, yet."

"If I ever find out he's bugged my car, he's history," Lois 
said.  "My apartment was one thing, but my Jeep is 
something else altogether." 

Clark grinned slightly.  The whole attitude was just so 
Lois.   

In the Jeep, he took the envelope she had brought from the 
newsroom.  "What's this?" 

Lois pulled the safety harness over her shoulder and 
fastened it.  "Oh, that's the stuff Jimmy got for us on 
Neville Elliott."

"Anything interesting?"

"Maybe."  She started the engine and backed smartly out of 
the parking space.  "Elliott came to Metropolis about six 
to eight weeks before Hurst did, set up his clinic and 
became well known within a few months.  Jimmy dug into his 
background.  He graduated from a prestigious medical school 
in Europe and did his specialty work in Switzerland."

"But?"

"The hospital where he supposedly worked burned to the 
ground a couple of months before he showed up in 
Metropolis.  The medical school lists a Neville Elliott as 
one of its graduates but whether it's the same guy is 
anybody's guess."

"The name isn't a common one--and Elliott's a skilled 
doctor.  If he wasn't, he wouldn't be such a success."

"True."  Lois pulled the Jeep out onto the street.  A light 
spray of rain across the windshield made her turn on the 
wipers.  The sun had been down for some time and the 
streetlights were on.  Light reflected wetly off the 
asphalt and the headlights of passing cars were dazzling.  

"I wonder where Nunk is," Clark said.

"Probably staked out by one of our apartments, waiting for 
us to show up," Lois replied.  "I suppose it's too much to 
hope that he'll get discouraged and go home."  

"Probably.  So there's nothing really unusual in Elliott's 
past?"

"Well--maybe.  I called an acquaintance of mine over there 
for more information.  I got a call back a little while 
ago.  It seems that the cause of the hospital fire was 
arson."

"Interesting coincidence."

"I thought so."

"Did Jimmy find out anything else on him?"  

"Not much.  Just a few dry facts; where he was born, where 
he went to school and so forth.  Why?"

"Just my suspicious nature, I guess," Clark said, ignoring 
Lois's incredulous snort of disbelief.  "No, really.  Look, 
suppose for a minute that he's connected with Intergang.  
The business about the hospital makes me wonder.  Look what 
they did with Diana Stride.  They took a little-known TV 
reporter, pulled her out of obscurity and turned her into a 
star--so they could use her as an international assassin.  
There's a parallel here.  Maybe he's the Neville Elliott 
who worked in the Swiss hospital and maybe he isn't but 
he's really good at his job.  He comes here, sets up a 
clinic and within months he's a prominent plastic surgeon 
who caters to the rich and famous of Metropolis and is on 
friendly terms with most of them."

"He should be," Lois muttered, weaving her way through the 
moderately heavy traffic of the late evening.  "He's got 
before and after pictures of most of them.  Talk about 
blackmail material.  But what use would a plastic surgeon 
be to Intergang?"

"Arianna Carlin had a use for one."

"Yeah, I guess she did."  Lois began to slow the Jeep as 
they approached a stoplight.  "And Lex said he had his 
uses.  I guess I can see why they might want someone like 
that on their payroll.  If things were getting too hot for 
some Intergang big shot and he needed a new identity, and a 
new face to go with it--"  She broke off suddenly.  "Oh my 
God..."

"What?"

"He's Hurst's brother-in-law."

"And?"

"Hurst was Diana Stride's Intergang contact.  And you 
didn't find a body."

The driver of the car ahead of them slammed on his brakes 
and Lois brought the Jeep to a stop inches from its bumper 
but they hardly noticed.  They were staring at each other 
in complete comprehension.

"Diana Stride's not dead," Clark said.  "At least, she 
probably isn't." 

"Probably.  And we're the only ones who have any idea where 
to look for her."

They were silent for a minute until the honk of a car horn 
from the irritated driver behind them jarred Lois out of 
her abstraction.  The car in front of them was moving 
forward at a snail's pace and ahead, Clark could see a long 
line of bumper to bumper traffic.  "I think there's an 
accident up there," he said.  "I can see flashing lights 
about six blocks up, and a cop is directing people around a 
couple of cars.  Looks like a fender bender."

"Great."  Lois twisted her head back and forth, looking for 
an escape route.  "We're stuck.  I love rush hour in 
Metropolis."

Clark opened the door.  "I'll be right back."

"Where--"  She broke off as he literally disappeared and 
shook her head.  All this time, she'd had Superman for a 
partner and she'd never suspected it because of his ability 
to move so quickly that it often seemed Clark and Superman 
were in the same place at the same time.  The actual fact 
that she'd never seen them together had never occurred to 
her.

The rain was beginning to come down a little harder.  Maybe 
they were going to get that thunderstorm after all, she 
thought and hoped sincerely that any employee of the 
Whisper who was staked out at either Clark's apartment or 
hers would pay for it by getting soaked and hopefully be 
stuck in bed with the flu for a week or so.

Clark opened the passenger door and got in.  "The jam's 
about to clear," he reported.  "Superman moved the cars out 
of the way."

"That was nice of him," she remarked.

"I thought so."  He looked so smug that she smacked his arm 
lightly.  

"You rat!  When I think of all the times in the last year 
and a half--"

The cars were beginning to creep forward again and she 
began to inch ahead.  Within a couple of minutes they were 
moving at the normal rush hour speed, which wasn't much of 
an improvement, but at least they *were* moving.

Clark was glancing around.  "Pull into the parking lot over 
there," he said, pointing.  "I think Superman Express can 
get us where we want to go faster than this, if you don't 
mind a few raindrops."

Lois pulled into the lot.  Having had experience flying in 
Superman's arms, she wasn't very worried about getting wet.  
Besides, Clark could dry her off in seconds with his heat 
vision, if necessary.  A few moments later, they were 
taking off from a shadowed corner of the lot, headed for 
Perry's home, located in one of the upper middle-class 
neighborhoods of the city.

As she expected, Clark didn't make her put up with the 
rain.  He made a fast ascent until they were flying above 
the cloud layer and looking up, Lois could see a black sky 
spangled with stars.  After a moment, she realized one of 
the stars was moving, and belatedly identified it as a 
passenger plane headed out to sea.

"That's the NorthEastern Airlines New York to Miami 
flight," Clark said in a matter-of-fact tone.  "They're a 
little behind schedule."

"I suppose you would know," she said.  

"Along with a lot of other trivia," Clark agreed.

"I always wondered why you were so good at Trivial 
Pursuit," Lois said.  "Who would have thought Superman 
collects trivia as a hobby?"

He laughed.  "Superman is just a normal guy, except for a 
few extra qualities.  Why shouldn't he do the same things 
that other guys do?"

"Well, the first time I hear you wolf-whistle at some babe, 
you're dead," she warned him.

"Hey, I said I was normal, not suicidal," he said.  
"Besides, the only 'babe' I want to wolf-whistle at is you.  
And, you'll notice, I've never been stupid enough to try 
it."

Lois began to giggle.  The mental image of Superman doing 
such a thing--and the result it would have--was so 
incongruous that she couldn't help it.

They had been flying only a few minutes when he brought 
them down in the shadow of a high hedge.  Quickly, they ran 
to the covered front porch of a modern, two story home, and 
Lois felt Superman's heat vision sweep her from head to 
toe.  Belatedly, she realized he was standing there in his 
Clark Kent attire although she hadn't seen him change.  He 
pushed his glasses back into place and rang the bell.

**********

"Sit down, kids."  Perry White gestured Lois and Clark to 
seats in his den and closed the door.  "Can I get you 
anything to drink?  Coffee?"

Lois shook her head.  In the warm light of his desk lamp, 
her mouth looked tight.  She was about to do something she 
didn't want to do, Perry thought, but she would do it 
because she thought it was important.  Lois could be 
volatile and temperamental at times but when the situation 
warranted it, she could be tougher than any man in the 
newsroom, her partner and his alter ego included.  

"I need to tell you the whole story of what happened five 
years ago," she said.  "Claude apparently got wind of 
what's going on--maybe someone on the legal staff said 
something.  He spoke to me tonight and threatened to use 
it--and his imagination--to ruin my reputation if I went 
ahead with the Kerth thing."

"Bill Ross wouldn't have said anything," Perry said.  

"Well, somehow Claude found out.  Anyway--"  Lois drew a 
deep breath and appeared to gather her courage.  "Five 
years ago, I thought I was in love with Claude Chabert--"

Perry listened in silence as Lois spoke, explaining clearly 
what had happened five years before that had allowed Claude 
to steal her story, and then what had happened this 
evening.  As she spoke, he watched the expression on her 
face, which revealed probably more than she realized what 
it cost her to tell him the full story.  When she had 
finished, he nodded slowly.

"I can't say I'm surprised," he said.  "Honey, I know why 
you didn't, but I wish you'd come to me at the time."

"So do I," she said, unexpectedly.  "I just didn't think 
anyone would believe me."

"I know, but I still wish you had.  Still, better late than 
never, and to tell you the truth, I'd kind of figured it 
was something like this.  Do you still want to go ahead?  
If you do, you're going to have to tell this story to a 
lawyer--and the Kerth Committee."

Lois nodded.  "I know."

"You're willing to do that?"

"After this evening, you bet I am."

Perry found himself grinning slightly in sheer admiration.  
"Good for you.  You say Harry overheard the whole thing?"

"That's what he said."

"Good.  It sounds like Claude may have miscalculated a bit.  
I'm going to make a few phone calls, and I'll get back to 
you after I've talked to some people about it."  He paused 
a moment, watching her face.  "Lois, what you told me 
tonight took a lot of courage.  Personally, I think Claude 
Chabert is a first class louse.  He took advantage of your 
youth and inexperience to win an award he didn't deserve, 
and now he's willing to try to destroy your reputation to 
keep it.  I've met people like him--fortunately not often--
and they make me sick.  I re-read that article, yesterday, 
and I knew as soon as I saw it who had written it.  Your 
style is very characteristic.  The only thing in that 
article that's his, as far as I can see, is his name.  I'm 
willing to testify to the fact and I think once the Kerth 
Committee sees samples of your writing style and Claude's, 
they won't have any doubt about the real author--but we'll 
keep Harry in reserve, just in case."

"Thanks, Perry."  She glanced at Clark.  "I guess you were 
right."

"About what?" Perry wanted to know.

"She was worried what you'd think of her," Clark said.  "I 
told her what happened says more about him than her."

Perry gave a bark of mirthless laughter.  "That's for 
sure."  He got to his feet, glancing at his watch.  "Alice 
is at her bridge club meeting and probably will be for a 
while longer.  I still have time to make those calls."

"I guess we better get out of your way, too," Clark said.  
"Lois managed to shake Nunk this afternoon, and he's 
probably staking out my apartment, waiting for me to come 
back.  We shouldn't disappoint him."

"Check for bugs," Perry advised.  

"I will."

"You two and Superman need to get together and think of 
something to convince the Whisper's publishers that Nunk is 
wasting their time and money," Perry said.  "I'm sure the, 
um, three of you will think of something, eventually."  He 
saw Clark cast a sharp look at him and hoped his veiled 
message had gotten through.  "When his readers lose 
interest, he'll have to drop it, you know."  He met Clark's 
eyes for a bare instant.  "If I can help any--besides with 
legal matters--let me know, okay?"

"We will," Lois said.  

A few moments later, he ushered them out and walked slowly 
back to his den.  He wasn't sure he'd been right to hint to 
Clark that he knew, but at least now, the boy would know 
that he could ask for help if he needed it.  Now, for those 
phone calls...

**********

"He knows, Lois," Clark said.  Somehow, the knowledge 
wasn't as scary as he thought it should be.  

Lois glanced back at the house.  "If he does, he won't say 
anything."

"I know."  Clark also turned to look back at Perry's home.  
Lights glowed softly behind the shuttered windows and he 
saw his boss's shadow cross one of them as he headed back 
toward the den.  "For a minute I wasn't sure, but the way 
he looked at me--"

"Well, if anybody would figure it out, he'd have the best 
chance," Lois said.  "He can see most of the newsroom from 
his office and he's had to notice how you take off at 
strange moments."

"I just hope nobody else has," Clark said.

"I doubt it.  Even Nunk must be starting to have his doubts 
by now, if he ever really believed it in the first place."

"I don't think he did.  I think it's just the usual 
sensationalism as far as he's concerned."  Clark moved into 
the deeper shadow of the hedge and spun into Superman.  
"Let's go get your Jeep, shall we?"

She let him pick her up and a few moments later, they were 
above the clouds.  Lois snuggled against him.

"Mm, you're nice and warm."

He grinned.  "Maybe I should take you flying in cold 
climates more often."

She laughed.  "Men!  You're all alike."

"Even me?"

"We...ll, maybe not exactly.  I have to admit you were 
right.  You're not a typical male, even if you have a lot 
in common with most of them."

"Do I?" he asked.

"You bet.  Like you said, you're a normal guy except for a 
few extras.  Must be that Kansas upbringing."

"Well, I was a pretty ordinary kid--at least until I first 
noticed my powers starting to come in.  Then things got 
anything but ordinary."

"I'll bet.  Still, in everything but your super powers, 
you're normal even if you're not exactly ordinary now.  You 
know, there's still a lot I don't know about you.  I guess 
I'll have a long time to find things out, though."

"All your life, if you want to."

"I do," she said.

"Just keep that phrase in mind," he said, daringly.  "I 
want you to remember it when the time comes."

She was silent for a long moment and he was beginning to 
wonder if he'd said too much when she spoke again.  "I'll 
try to--if you're sure you really want me."

"Is there still any doubt?" he asked.  "There's only one 
woman in the world for me, and that's you.  No one else 
even comes close to measuring up."

"What about Mayson?"

Clark shook his head.  "I like Mayson.  She's a good 
person--but if she knew the truth, you know she'd be afraid 
of me.  Besides, I don't love her.  After I saw you, there 
was never a doubt of which woman I wanted for the rest of 
my life.  It's not something that's going to change."

"You mean it, don't you," she said, wonderingly.  "I guess 
I just don't understand why."

He gave her a hug.  "I can give you about a million reasons 
if you have the time to listen, but I think one's good 
enough.  I fell in love with you the moment I saw you.  
There's no other woman on Earth like Lois Lane.  My mom 
knew right away that I'd fallen hard.  Ask her, sometime."

She touched his face with one hand.  "Are other men this 
irrational?"

"I don't know.  But, I'm not 'other men'."

"That's for sure.  I guess I'll have to remember that 'I 
do' thing."

"Don't think I'll let you forget," he told her.  

"I won't." 

They flew in silence for a moment, then Lois spoke.  
"Tomorrow, I'd like to start a little closer examination of 
Hurst--and Neville Elliott's clinic, too.  I think there's 
a good chance we could get a lead on Diana.  If she's about 
to get a new face from Elliott--"

"Yeah," Clark agreed.  "I keep thinking I've heard 
something along that line happening to someone else 
recently."

"You did," Lois said.  "You might not have paid much 
attention.  I didn't either but I've been thinking about it 
and I finally figured it out.  Remember Juan Arista?"

"*That's* what I was trying to remember," Clark said.  "The 
Colombian drug lord who turned up in France a few months 
ago, right?"

"Right.  New identity, new face, new job.  Everyone thought 
he was dead."

"Maybe we've stumbled across a bigger story, here."

"I was wondering about that," Lois said.  "Lex did say 
Elliott had his uses.  Giving criminals new faces would be 
a pretty lucrative sideline."

"It might get a little dangerous--unless you had a 
syndicate like Intergang behind you," Clark said.  "I guess 
we'd better start snooping around tomorrow.  I hope your 
ankle doesn't slow you down."

"It won't if I can help it," Lois said.  "All we have to do 
is figure out a way to shake Nunk again."   

It was now late evening and rush hour traffic had begun to 
diminish somewhat.  When they reclaimed Lois's Jeep from 
the public parking lot, the crush of cars had thinned out 
enough that she had no difficulty making her way back to 
Clark's apartment in reasonable time.  As she pulled the 
Jeep up to the curb, Clark lowered his glasses and glanced 
around.  "There he is."

"Where?--Oh, I see him.  I guess he decided to bring the 
van this time, huh?"

"Well, it's still raining," Clark pointed out.  

"Who's inside?" she inquired.

Clark lowered his glasses and checked again.  "Nunk and the 
cameraman.  They've spotted us, too."

"Remember what Perry said.  Check for bugs."

"You bet I will."  Clark leaned over and kissed her lightly 
on the lips.  "Be careful driving home on these wet 
streets."

"I'll be fine," she said.  "If you-know-who needs to go 
out, can you do it without him seeing you?"

"Yeah, I'll go out the back.  I'll just have to be sure 
there aren't any bugs around to tell him I'm gone.  Call me 
when you get in, would you?"

"Clark, you're being a mother hen." 
    
"Sorry.  I worry about you."

She rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was trying not 
to smile.  "Okay, I'll call you.  Happy now?"

"Well, some."

Lois sighed gustily.  "Men!  Kryptonian men!"

Clark grinned slightly.  "Sorry."

She began to laugh.  "Good night, Clark."

**********

Clark waited on the front steps until Lois had driven off, 
studiously not looking at the unobtrusively parked van 
containing Nunk and his cameraman.  In spite of his 
apparent lack of awareness, however, his super-hearing was 
trained on the occupants of the van.

"What's he doing?" Nunk's voice demanded, impatiently.

"Just standing there, watching Lane drive away," the other 
man's voice replied.  "Look, boss, I think we're wasting 
our time.  This stuff about him being Superman is stupid 
and we both know it."

"If you'd get that mike working, we might have been able to 
hear what they were saying!" Nunk snapped.  "Where did you 
get your certification in this stuff--out of a Cracker Jack 
box?" 

"It *is* working," the other man's voice snarled back.  "In 
case you hadn't noticed, it's raining pitchforks out there, 
we're at least three hundred yards away, the car motor was 
on and their windows were closed.  All I could pick up was 
engine noise.  Besides, what did you want to do--listen to 
a pair of lovebirds while they bill and coo?  Next time 
*you* can listen in when they get back from a date!  You'd 
get some kinda charge out of that, wouldn't you?  You know, 
you're really sick, Nunk."

"Are you working for the right paper, Michaels?"  Nunk's 
voice said.  "We're here to make a story.  Kent's going to 
sell a lot of papers for us.  Trust me, he'll never find 
the bug this time."

"Yeah, right.  You're going to look like an idiot when he 
turns out to be a normal guy.  Kent's no more Superman than 
I am."

"Who cares?  If he is, we're gonna find out and plaster it 
on the front page.  If he isn't, we'll cook up something 
between them.  Either way it'll sell." 
 
"In other words, you're trying to ruin the guy's life."

"So?  It'll sell papers.  We'll get hold of Hank's Photo 
Lab and have 'em doctor up some pics of Kent, Lane and 
Superman in bed.  It'll make a scandal that people will 
want to buy." 

Silence.  Then Nunk's voice said, "Where do you think 
you're going?"

"Out."

"It's raining out there, stupid."

"Yeah, well if I don't get out of here I'm gonna throw up. 
This isn't journalism.  I quit; you can do your own dirty 
work." 

The rear door of the van opened and the photographer 
emerged, wrapped in a raincoat.  He splashed off into the 
darkness without looking back.

Slowly, Clark unlocked the door of his apartment and went 
in.  A thorough scan of the place located Nunk's bug on the 
overhead brick arch near the window seat.  Well, it 
wouldn't do for him to find it too soon but that didn't 
mean he had to let Nunk listen in on his activities.  He 
switched on the television and located an ancient grade B, 
late night horror movie marathon.  Then, with a delicate 
touch, he removed the bug from the arch, laid it next to 
the television and turned up the sound.  Satisfied that 
Nunk would have his fill of screaming damsels-in-distress, 
man-eating zombies and killer slugs over the next few 
hours, he very quietly changed to Superman and departed by 
way of a rear window.  It was time Superman was seen about 
town and if he happened to drop by Lois's apartment on the 
way, that wasn't such a bad thing, was it?  Besides, he 
needed to let her know the latest development.  Things 
seemed to be careening out of his control and how they were 
going to deal with Nunk's latest brainchild he didn't know.  
Maybe Lois could figure out what to do about it.

**********

Lois had barely entered her apartment when she heard the 
tapping on the window and a quick glance showed her the 
silhouette of a tall man floating just beyond the glass.

She dropped her purse on the nearest chair and went to open 
the window.  "Checking up on me?" she inquired as Clark 
floated through and dropped to the rug.

"Nope.  Just a minute."  She saw him turn his head and 
realized he must be scanning her apartment for listening 
devices.  "The place is clean," he said, at last.  "I guess 
we can talk.  I wanted to let you know what I overheard 
before I take off for a patrol of the city.  I eavesdropped 
on Nunk while you were driving away--"  Quickly and 
concisely, he repeated the conversation between the two 
tabloid reporters.  "I stuck his bug next to my TV and left 
Nunk listening to Invasion of the Moss Men.  Do you have 
any ideas about how to deal with this?"

Lois was frowning.  "Hank's Photo Lab?  I've never heard of 
them, but if the Whisper deals with them, they can't be 
very reputable.  They're probably one of those places that 
manufacture phony pictures of aliens talking to the 
President and stuff.  Jimmy would be able to find out.  I'm 
going to give him a call."

Clark glanced at the wall clock.  "It's past ten."

"My bet is that he's still awake.  Besides, this is 
important."

Jimmy answered on the second ring.  "Hello?"

"Hi, Jimmy, it's Lois."

"Oh, hi."  Jimmy's voice was slightly thick as if he were 
chewing something.  She heard him gulp.  "Sorry, I was 
eating popcorn.  What's up?"

"Clark and I need some information.  Have you ever heard of 
Hank's Photo Lab?"

"Hmm--no, I don't think so.  Why?"

"Well, we think we have a little problem.  You know that 
tabloid snoop who's been following Clark around?"

"Leo Nunk?  Yeah, he tried to get me to talk about Clark, 
yesterday morning.  I wouldn't, though."

"Well, Clark heard him talking to his photographer--"

When she had finished, Jimmy didn't speak for several 
seconds.  When he did, his voice had taken on an angry 
note.  "That piece of--"  He bit off the last word.  "I'll 
find out about this Hank's Photo place for you.  Will 
tomorrow morning be soon enough?"

"That would be great.  I hope I didn't wake you up."

"Nah, I napped a while ago.  I'm watching an old horror 
marathon that's supposed to run until three in the morning.  
My favorite is just coming on right now--Queen of the 
Killer Swarm."  

"Sounds interesting," Lois said.  "Try to get some sleep 
too, though."  

"I'm going to bed when it's over," Jimmy assured her.  "I 
always try to see it whenever it's on.  The plot isn't 
much, but the beach scenes are great and the actress who 
plays the queen is really sta--"

"I think I get the picture," Lois said.  "Good night, 
Jimmy."

Clark was sitting on the sofa behind her when she hung up, 
still wearing the bright red, blue and yellow of Superman.  
He gave her a half-smile.  "Well?"

"Didn't you hear what he said?"

He shook his head.  "No."

"He's never heard of the place, but he'll find out about it 
for us by morning.  If it's one of those shops that make 
fake photographs, at least we're a step ahead of Nunk.  
We'll be ready for the Whisper if they do something like 
that."

"So, what do you think we should do?"

Lois sat down next to him.  "I think the first thing is to 
prove to the satisfaction of everyone that Clark Kent and 
Superman aren't the same person.  Then, if the Whisper 
tries a sleazy stunt like Nunk was talking about, we get 
the evidence that it's a fraud and prove it.  I think Perry 
would go along.  You know what he thinks of the Whisper."

Clark grinned.  "That's true.  I feel a lot better, now.  I 
knew I could count on you."

"I do my best."

"I know.  I don't know what I'd do without you."  He got 
reluctantly to his feet.  "I suppose I'd better go.  I want 
to make sure a lot of people see me tonight while Clark 
Kent is supposed to be asleep in his apartment."

Lois stood up and followed him to the window.  "Are you 
going to get any sleep tonight?"

"Yeah.  I don't need as much as other people but I'll sleep 
for a couple of hours when I get back."

She leaned forward and kissed him lightly.  "Be careful."

He slid his arms around her and turned the kiss into 
something a good deal more intense.  When he lifted his 
head, she drew a deep breath.  "Wow."

"Yeah."  He released her.  "I need to get going.  Are you 
picking me up tomorrow morning?"

She took another breath, still feeling slightly light-
headed.  "I'll be there at the usual time."

He frowned slightly.  "Are you all right?"

"Yeah.  You pack quite a wallop, you know?"

He kissed the tip of her nose, smiling a little.  "So do 
you.  I better get out of here while I'm still thinking 
straight.  There isn't anybody listening, tonight."

She watched a few seconds later as he disappeared into the 
darkness, and closed the window against the pounding rain.  
Outside, lightning flashed and was followed a few seconds 
later by a rumble of thunder.  

She'd wondered for a while if she could handle the 
challenge of being the partner and wife of Superman, but 
she was beginning to see why he thought she could.  He 
needed and depended on her far more than she had realized.

Slowly, she walked back toward her bedroom for a quick 
shower before bed, still thinking hard.  She knew she 
wanted him, but had hesitated because of her doubts.  
Filling the role of Superman's partner was a challenge, but 
when had she ever backed off from a challenge?  He had more 
confidence in her than she did, it seemed.  If he was that 
sure he needed her, maybe he was right.  Besides, why 
shouldn't she be a little selfish?  She wasn't going to be 
happy without him and he'd made it pretty clear that he 
wasn't going to be happy without her.  Wasn't it important 
to keep Superman happy and motivated?  The world would 
certainly benefit from that, after all.  It was almost her 
duty, if she thought about it that way.

She was rationalizing, she knew, but this time the activity 
didn't leave her with that faintly uneasy feeling that it 
usually did when she knew underneath that she was wrong.  
This felt right.

"Okay, Clark," she whispered.  "If you're willing to take 
the chance, I am."

**********

The movie marathon was just winding up when Clark returned 
to Clinton Street.  Nunk's van was still parked down the 
street and he checked the inside of the vehicle with his x-
ray vision.  Nunk was still there, all right, sound asleep, 
with a recorder running.  Clark grinned slightly, slipped 
back into his apartment and snapped off the television.  He 
picked up the bug and crushed it in his hand.  When Nunk 
woke up, he'd have a nice audio recording of a bunch of low 
grade monster flicks but that was all.  With luck, his 
enthusiasm for chasing the team of Lane and Kent around the 
city would suffer a setback.

Quickly, he showered, pulled on a pair of sleeping shorts 
and slipped into bed for a couple of hours' sleep.  It was 
going to be a busy day.     

**********

Nunk's van was gone when Lois picked him up the next 
morning.  The storm had diminished to a light mist and the 
clouds were already breaking up overhead.  The day promised 
to be brisk but sunny.  Lois drove through streets washed 
clean of debris by the overnight storm, and past the front 
of the Daily Planet.

"See him anywhere?" she asked.

"Not so far," Clark said.  "I hope he's finding Attack of 
the Brain-Sucking Parasites entertaining."

Lois giggled.  "Me too.  He's got a lot in common with 
them.  I'm going to park in the lot on Bailey Street, 
though.  I know it's kind of a long walk, but maybe he 
won't find the car if it's a ways from the Planet.  All I 
need is for him to mess with it again."

"Don't blame you," Clark agreed.  "How does your ankle feel 
these days?"

"Better," she said.  "I'm supposed to get it x-rayed next 
week.  It's too bad they won't let you do it for me."

He glanced at the ankle and lowered his glasses.  "It's 
getting there.  Another couple of weeks and you can 
probably progress to a sprain wrap."

"That'll be a reli