Without A Superman (Lois Lane's Quest)			
By: ML Thompson <thomplaw@tbaytel.net>
Rated: PG-13
Submitted: March 2004


* * * * * * * * *

This is a fanfic based on the television show, Lois and 
Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. No copyright 
infringement is intended. I'm borrowing these characters 
for a little fun and not for any profit. Special thanks go 
out to the writers of the following episodes: 'The Green, 
Green Glow of Home,' 'Operation Blackout,' 'The Foundling' 
and 'Strange Visitor.' For complete disclaimer, go to: 
http://www.thompsonlawoffice.ca/Disclaimer.htm

I wrote this story in two parts since there are really two 
parts to Lois Lane's quest. However, both parts one and two 
are included in this posting.

My gratitude, as usual, goes out to Gerry Anklewicz and 
Carol Malo for their support and assistance. They are the 
best Beta readers I could hope to have. And my thanks for 
the patience and assistance provided to me by everyone on 
the Fanfic Message Boards. You were incredibly helpful 
answering all of my questions. And my thanks to Jeanne Pare 
for editing this story for the archives.

This story picks up where 'Without A Superman (Clark Kent's 
Quest)' left off. You can find Clark Kent's Quest here: 
http://www.lcfanfic.com/stories/2004/withouta.txt . If you 
don't want to read Clark Kent's Quest or just want a 
refresher, I will give you a brief synopsis which will 
allow you to pick up with this story. Do not read the 
following if you don't want to know what happened in 
'Without A Superman (Clark Kent's Quest)'.

SPOILER FOR 'WITHOUT A SUPERMAN (CLARK KENT'S QUEST)': 
Through the manipulations of Tempus, our very married Clark 
Kent found himself in an alternate universe where he 
discovered that his alternate self, Martha and Jonathan had 
been killed when alt-Clark was eleven. Judging by the story 
Wayne Irig told Clark, it seemed as if Jason Trask was the 
one responsible for his alternate's death and the death of 
his parents. 

In Clark's quest to get back to his own universe, he 
contacted the alternate universe's Lois Lane who at the 
time was engaged to be married to Lex Luthor. Clark knew he 
had to stop the marriage, given how dangerous Lex Luthor 
was bound to be in any universe, and so Clark led Lois 
through an investigation that ended in her discovering the 
truth about the man she was planing to marry. During the 
final stages of the investigation, Luthor was shot and 
killed by the police.

In the end, Clark was taken back to his universe by H.G. 
Wells who had discovered that Clark Kent was in the wrong 
dimension, leaving a heart broken alt-Lois behind. And so, 
we begin our story in this alternate universe with alt-Lois 
as she begins her quest...

Submitted: March 2004

* * * * * * * * *
WITHOUT A SUPERMAN
(LOIS LANE'S QUEST)
By: ML Thompson
thomplaw@tbaytel.net 
PG-13
* * * * * * * * *

* * * * * * * * *
LOIS LANE'S QUEST - PART 1
PG-13
* * * * * * * * *

Lois stood, transfixed by the sight of the coffin, waiting 
for it to be lowered into the ground. She was so lost in 
thought that she wasn't aware that Bill Henderson was 
standing in the rain in order to hold the umbrella over her 
and Catherine. 

Catherine. Lois reached over and slipped her arm through 
the arm of her friend and boss, glad that the woman had 
come with her today. After all, except for Catherine, Bill 
and Jimmy, no one else had bothered - or dared? - to come. 
Except for the press of course - who were so far 
maintaining a respectful distance, cameras focused on the 
pitiful scene. 

It was an ironic ending for the second richest man in the 
world. In life, Lex Luthor had commanded the attention of 
some of the most powerful business, political and religious 
leaders of the day. In death... only Lois' friends had seen 
fit to stand with her in the pouring rain as the once 
powerful man was laid to rest.

Not that any of this surprised Lois. After all, since his 
death, it seemed that every few hours new facts emerged 
about the extent of Lex's criminal activities. At first, 
the revelations had centered around the extent to which Lex 
had been using slave labor in his factories. The ships had 
been arriving for months. And when the people who had been 
smuggled in were found, it became obvious that they were 
being held against their wills, forced to live in subhuman 
conditions and work without pay in Lex's factories. 

Lois had quickly discovered that the refugees consisted of 
both men and women who were being sought by their 
government in connection to the uprising in Tiananmen 
Square only a few years previously. Of course, 
Immigration's initial reaction had been to return the 
people to China. But Lois had contacted Perry, begging him 
to look into the situation. Perry had listened to Lois' 
pleas and had considered the situation, finally deciding 
that political asylum would be granted to whoever wanted 
it.

But the illegal immigrant scheme had turned out only to be 
the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. Lex had been involved 
in so many criminal enterprises that Lois had finally lost 
count. And with the uncovering of another scheme, another 
group of people seemed to disavow ever knowing the man - or 
at least claiming that they had suspected Lex was dirty for 
years.

As a result, it seemed that she was the only one who had 
felt a need to come to his funeral - to say good-bye. Of 
course, she had considered staying away - given some of the 
things she'd learned on the day of his death. But Lex had 
been a big part of her life for the past year and her 
feelings for him had been genuine. And as she thought back, 
she was certain that in his own way, he had loved her, too. 
So now she stood in the rain, Catherine by her side, 
staring at the casket which would soon be lowered into the 
ground.

She gave a small sigh. She felt bad that Lex was dead. That 
certainly hadn't been her intention. But she felt no where 
near as bad about Lex's death as she did about losing 
Clark. A sad smile twisted at the corner of her mouth as 
thoughts of Clark ran through her mind. She was jolted out 
of her thoughts when the bright flash of a lightbulb went 
off in her face. She looked up and glared momentarily at 
the photographer who had just taken a picture.

Just then a minister joined them at the grave side and the 
brief ceremony began.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois stared at the abstract pattern her screen saver was 
making on her computer monitor. It had been two weeks since 
Lex's funeral and it was now official. She had lost her 
edge. Although stories continued to emerge about Lex, 
Catherine had taken her off the story. Given the fact that 
Lex's death and the events surrounding it had been her 
story, she was supposed to have her choice of follow-up 
stories. And there were still plenty of those. But when she 
had arrived at the Planet this morning, Catherine had taken 
her into her office and told her that from now on, any 
stories to do with Lex would be going to Dan Scardino.

Lois had protested, but the protest had been half-hearted. 
Lois knew that Catherine was right. Since Lex's death, she 
had become more and more lethargic about her job. It seemed 
that even reporters from the Star were beating her to 
stories. And what scared Lois the most was that she hardly 
cared. 

Of course, everyone was attributing the change of attitude 
to her 'heartbreak' over Lex. That suited Lois just fine. 
After all, she couldn't very well tell them what really had 
her feeling so empty inside - that she had, in a matter of 
days, managed to fall in love with a man only to lose him 
to an alternate universe, to an alternate version of 
herself. And the worst part was that rather than getting 
easier to live without him, it seemed that each day she 
died a little more inside. 

She was startled out of her depressing thoughts when the 
phone on her desk rang. For a moment, she was confused by 
the sudden noise. It suddenly struck her that she was 
supposed to pick up the phone.

"Lois Lane," she said half-heartedly into the receiver.

"Ms. Lane, this is Sheldon Bender. I was a lawyer for Lex 
Luthor," said the voice on the other end of the line. 

"I think you want to talk to Dan Scardino," Lois 
interrupted. "He's handling all of the Lex Luthor stories 
for the Planet now. Hang on. I'll transfer you."

"No, Ms. Lane. I need to talk to you."

Lois sighed. "Fine. What can I do for you, Mr. Bender?"

"Before he died, Mr. Luthor set up a bank account in your 
name. He called it a little mad money."

"I'm not interested," Lois responded immediately. "Why 
don't you just give it to a charity or something?"

"You don't understand, Ms. Lane. There is two hundred 
million dollars in the account."

Lois was silent for a long moment.

"Are you there, Ms. Lane?" the voice asked, snapping her 
out of her stunned stupor.

"Umm... yeah. Did you say..." She swallowed hard. "...two 
hundred million dollars?"

"Yes."

"In a bank account in my name? And he called it mad money?"

"Yes, Ms. Lane. You're a very wealthy woman. Now I need to 
meet with you as soon as possible to..."

"I don't want it."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't want it. Give it to charity. Or give it to Lex's 
victims. But I don't want it."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"What's to understand? I don't want it."

"Umm... okay," he said after a long moment, as if still not 
quite able to comprehend what she had told him. "I'll draft 
up the necessary releases and send them over for you to 
sign."

"Fine," Lois responded. Without bothering to say good-bye, 
she hung up the phone.

* * * * * * * * *

"You told him what?" Catherine demanded.

"I told him I didn't want Lex's blood money," Lois 
responded. "Why is it that everyone seems to have such a 
problem understanding that?"

Catherine shook her head in disbelief. "Sometimes I really 
don't comprehend how your mind works. If you don't want the 
money, then give it to charity yourself. At least you will 
be able to choose the charity. If you sign it over to that 
lawyer, do you think one penny will find its way to any 
charity? He'll bill it in such a way that all that will be 
left over will be chump change."

"And how is that my problem?" Lois asked. "Besides, it's 
two hundred million dollars, Catherine. Do you really think 
Lex intended to give me two hundred million dollars for mad 
money? There had to be another reason he opened that 
account. I don't like it and I don't feel comfortable 
taking it." Lois took a deep breath. "Look, I didn't come 
in here to fight with you. I just wanted to let you know 
that I think I need a few days off - you know, to get my 
edge back."

Catherine slumped down behind her desk. 

"Are you sure about this, Lois?" she asked softly. "I know 
you've been a little off your game since Lex... Well, since 
Lex. But what will you do with time off? I don't see lying 
on a beach somewhere as being very good for you right now. 
For as long as I've known you, throwing yourself into your 
work has been... What do you call it now?"

"Good medicine," Lois responded. She let out a breath. "I 
just don't think that's going to do it this time. I need to 
get away."

"Where will you go?"

Lois walked over to the window to the newsroom and, for a 
long moment, stood staring at her co-workers rushing 
around. Where was she going to go? She shook her head 
slightly when she suddenly realized where she needed to go. 
She had been able to say good-bye to Lex at his funeral. 
But for Clark, there had been no closure. 

"Smallville, Kansas," Lois finally responded. 

* * * * * * * * *

Lois curled up in her recliner, using the blanket she kept 
on the arm of the chair to cover herself. She closed her 
eyes, attempting to make her mind go blank. Her flight to 
Wichita was tomorrow. From there she would have to drive to 
Smallville. 

She was just starting to relax when there was a knock at 
the door. Confused, she rose from her chair. She wasn't 
expecting anyone. 

She made her way to the door, her eyebrows going up in 
surprise when she saw who was standing on the other side. 
Quickly undoing the locks, she threw open the door.

"Lucy, what are you doing here?" she asked the woman 
standing on her steps, two suitcases and a laptop beside 
her. "I thought you were in Washington."

"Oh, I was. I just decided that maybe it was time to pay my 
big sister a visit."

Lois narrowed her eyes. "Did Catherine call you?"

"Maybe a short call," Lucy responded.

Lois tried to look annoyed, but in truth, she was glad to 
see her sister. They were only a year apart in age. As a 
result, the competition between them over the years had 
been fierce. But, if the truth were told, no sister could 
be prouder of the other's accomplishments. Lucy had, for 
the past few years, been working on President White's legal 
team.

"Are you upset with Catherine?" asked Lucy.

Lois let out a short breath. "No. Actually, it's awfully 
good to see you," she responded, stepping forward and 
getting a much needed hug from her sister.

The next few minutes were spent getting Lucy inside, making 
tea and small talk. They both had their tea and had settled 
in the living room before talk turned serious.

"Catherine told me that you took time off work," Lucy 
began. "It must have really hurt when Lex was killed."

Lois shifted uncomfortably. It was one thing letting 
friends and colleagues think that her listlessness was 
connected to Lex. It was another letting her sister think 
that. Never before had she lied to Lucy about something 
important. 

Should she tell Lucy what was really going on? It would be 
good to be able to talk to someone about everything that 
had happened. And her sister was the logical choice. She 
trusted her sister's opinions and perspectives. But was she 
betraying Clark by talking to Lucy about everything she had 
learned? No. After all, Clark had gone back to his 
universe. And there was no Clark Kent in this universe so 
it wasn't as if she were betraying him. 

Of course, there was always the fear that Lucy would have 
her committed - aliens and alternate universes. She would 
be asking an awful lot of her sister. But she needed to 
talk to someone. And if she couldn't trust her sister, who 
could she trust?

"What is it, Lois?" Lucy asked, obviously sensing her 
sister's distress. "You can tell me anything, you know."

"Can I?" Lois asked in return.

"You know you can. Come on, who else has more blackmail 
material on me than you?"

Lois smiled. "True. Tell me, have you told your husband yet 
what really happened that weekend we went to Lutsen to 
ski?"

Lucy shifted uncomfortably, causing Lois to stifle a 
giggle. Lois' near chuckle was answered by a small giggle 
from Lucy. And suddenly, both women found themselves 
laughing. The laughter escalated and soon the two women 
were laughing uncontrollably, tears rolling down their 
cheeks at the inside joke. 

"It wasn't my fault," Lucy finally said when she finally 
got enough control of her laughter to speak.

"No, of course not. That naked man just ended up in your 
room by accident. That was your story at the time, wasn't 
it?" 

Lucy gave Lois a swat, causing Lois to laugh again. She 
trusted her sister's story implicitly. Lucy knew that - not 
that Lois would ever admit it. It was much more fun teasing 
Lucy about the naked man in her room. 

"You know what happened," Lucy objected right on cue. "Come 
on, Lois. That guy was butt ugly. I never would have..."

"Butt ugly?" asked Lois, before doubling over in laughter 
again.

"You are so bad," Lucy said, trying to sound indignant. "He 
was drunk. He thought my room was his and so, when his key 
wouldn't work, he kicked in the door to my room, stepped 
inside and began stripping out of his clothes. You know 
that. You're the one who came running when I screamed."

"Well, yeah. I came running. But I didn't see him kick in 
the door. How do I know that you didn't..."

"Lois!" Lucy exclaimed before chuckling again. "I must 
admit, although the moment was terrifying, the really 
terrifying thing was..."

"...seeing him passed out, doubled over the couch..."

"...with his naked butt sticking up in the air," Lucy 
concluded. "Tell me, is there a law or something that says 
that you can't have a cute butt if you are going to pass 
out like that in some woman's room?"

"I still have nightmares about it," Lois responded, 
shivering dramatically. "And the look of disgust on your 
face when I rushed into your room to see you staring at..."

"Don't remind me," Lucy said, cutting her off. 

Lois smiled.

"It's good to laugh again, isn't it," said Lucy. When Lois 
nodded, Lucy continued. "You haven't been doing enough of 
that lately, have you? So why don't you tell your little 
sister all about it? Come on, Lois. You know you can tell 
me anything."

Lois nodded slowly. She could tell Lucy anything, but... 
"I'm sort of afraid that you'll have me committed."

"If I recall correctly from law school, there are only two 
things that can get you committed against your will."

"And those are?"

"Being a danger to yourself or being a danger to others. So 
as long as you're not going to tell me something that makes 
me think you're a danger to yourself or others, I can't 
have you committed - no matter how much of a nutcase you 
turn out to be."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. No. I'm not a danger to 
myself. And I'm not a danger to others. But..."

"But...?"

Lois took a deep breath. "You better strap on your seat 
belt, sis, because this is going to be a bumpy ride," Lois 
said before proceeding to tell her sister the whole story. 
Clark Kent. Alternate universes. Flying aliens. The death 
of this universe's Clark. The feelings she had for Clark 
and the role he had played in exposing Lex. Everything. 
Lucy sat mostly in silence throughout - only interrupting 
occasionally to ask for clarification.

"So," began Lois when she had finally finished telling her 
story, "what do you think? Am I ready for the loony bin?"

Lucy narrowed her eyes as she considered Lois' question. 
"There is a quote used by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in his 
books about Sherlock Homes which says: 'When you have 
excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however 
improbable, must be the truth.'"

"And you're telling me this because...?"

"There are, as I see it, only four possibilities."

"Which are?"

"Either you're lying..."

"I'm not..."

"Either you're lying," Lucy reiterated, cutting Lois off, 
"or you're crazy or someone has fooled you or you're 
telling the truth. So let's examine the evidence."

"Why did my sister have to become a lawyer?" Lois mumbled 
just loud enough for her sister to hear her.

Lucy ignored the comment. "Okay, so are you lying?"

"I told you, I'm not..."

"Now I know you've lied to me in the past, but never about 
anything big. Besides, what possible motive could you have 
for lying to me now? After all, if this is a lie, it's the 
craziest lie you've ever told. There is no upside to it, no 
benefit you could hope to derive from telling me this crazy 
story. No. The way I see it is that you aren't lying."

Lois leaned back in her seat, intrigued now by the way her 
sister was working her way through the problem.

"So are you crazy? Did the events surrounding Lex Luthor's 
death cause you to go over the deep end?" She stared 
silently at Lois for a long moment. "No. I don't see that 
happening either. This isn't the first time you've had 
someone close to you die. When our folks died, you were the 
one who was strong for me. Lois, you are probably the 
sanest person I've ever known.

"So then, what's the next possibility? That someone has 
fooled you. Now I've known you all my life and if there is 
one thing I know, it's that it's not easy to pull the wool 
over the eyes of Lois Lane. I suspect that you've already 
asked all the questions, done the research. And if you 
believe that this is true, then I believe that you've done 
the investigation necessary to be sure you aren't the 
victim of some elaborate hoax.

"So, where does that leave us? We've eliminated all the 
impossibilities. That means that whatever remains, however 
improbable, must be the truth. So I guess I have no choice 
but to believe you."

"You believe me?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

A tear slipped slowly down Lois' cheek. "Thank you," she 
whispered, amazed at how much she had needed to hear Lucy 
say that she believed her.

"Hey, don't thank me," Lucy said playfully. "I just 
evaluated the evidence and came to the only logical 
conclusion."

Lois gave a slightly watery laugh causing Lucy to give Lois 
another hug.

"I'm glad you're here, Lucy," Lois finally said, sniffing 
slightly before pulling back to look at her sister again.

"So am I. So what's next?"

Lois let out a slow breath. "I'm booked on a flight to 
Wichita for tomorrow morning."

"Why?"

"I was able to say good-bye to Lex at the funeral..."

"Sorry I couldn't be here for that."

"I understand. Besides, it wasn't that bad."

"So what does that have to do with going to Wichita?"

"Actually, Wichita is just the first stop. My destination 
is Smallville, Kansas."

"And what's in Smallville? Is that a real name?"

Lois gave a slight laugh. "Yeah, it is. I looked it up on 
the map and everything. Smallville, Kansas was Clark's 
hometown. I guess I just think that if I go there, maybe 
visit his grave, I'll be able to let Clark go, too - the 
way I did with Lex." Lois let out a slow breath. "Throwing 
myself into my work hasn't been helping. Maybe it's crazy, 
but I just thought..." She shrugged.

Lucy nodded thoughtfully. "Do you want some company?"

Lois smiled. "Thanks for the offer. I just think this is 
something I need to do alone."

"How long will you be gone?"

"A couple of days."

"Well, I took the whole week off. So what do you say I 
stick around until you get back?"

"Have I told you lately that you're a great sister?"

"Well, yeah. But you can always feel free to say it again."

"You're a great sister." Lois was silent for a moment. "So 
how's that husband of yours doing?"

Lucy chuckled. "I think Bernie is privately going crazy 
that he can't do any research. But when the President of 
the United States wants you for his science advisor, you 
don't exactly say no. But you know him. He's not exactly... 
umm... comfortable about all the functions we have to 
attend. If the discussion isn't about science, he's 
somewhat anti-social. I sometimes wonder if he would be 
happier if he had continued working at Lex Labs."

"But then you wouldn't be able to be together."

"That's what he says, too. But science is so much a part of 
his life. Although I have to admit that when he gets on one 
of his science tangents, even I have problems staying 
interested."

"Sort of like his dad."

"Exactly like his dad."

Lois shook her head slowly. "You know, I sometimes still 
have problems believing that you married Bernard Klein's 
son."

Lucy laughed. "Me, too. But his heart is in the right 
place. And he loves me to death. Sometimes it reminds me of 
the way Dad loved Mom."

Lois nodded. "Yeah. But he's so much like his dad." 

"Except he has more hair."

Lois laughed. "Well, he's young. And given his father's 
hair situation, I suspect it's just a matter of time before 
he loses his hair, too."

"So you're telling me I have something to look forward to," 
Lucy responded with a groan.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois almost missed the turn off to Smallville due to the 
combination of the dark night sky and the rain pelting 
against the windshield of the rental vehicle. She had flown 
into Wichita and then rented a car for her pilgrimage. As 
she slowed the vehicle on the road heading into the small 
community, she found herself wondering about her decision 
to come. It had made perfect sense to her when she had 
talked to her sister about coming here. Now it all seemed 
rather strange.

What was she doing in this hick town? It wasn't even as if 
the Clark she had met had ever lived in this town. And this 
universe's Clark Kent had died when he was eleven. People 
might have a vague memory of him, but surely nothing that 
would give her... Give her what? What exactly did she hope 
this trip would accomplish? 

She spotted a gas station up ahead and looked down at her 
gas gage. She could use a fill. Putting her questions about 
why she had come out of her mind, she pulled up to the 
pump, lowered her window and turned off the engine. She was 
instantly soaked by the pouring rain. 

"Agg," she yelled, fumbling to get the key back in the 
ignition so that she could put the window back up. Didn't 
these people believe in putting roofs over their gas pumps?

"Can I help you?" asked a woman's voice from outside the 
vehicle just as Lois got the window back up. 

She cracked open the door. "Yeah. You could get a hammer 
and nails and build..." She let out a breath. "Could you 
fill it up?"

A young woman nodded and pulled the collar up on her 
raincoat as she turned to the pumps.

Lois took a deep breath as she attempted to brush the rain 
off her clothing. "What am I doing here?" she asked herself 
again.

There was a knock at her window, causing Lois to once again 
open the door.

"That will be twenty dollars," the woman said.

Lois fished in her wallet for a moment. "Could you tell me 
where I could find a place to stay?" she asked.

"What kind of place?"

"You know. Places that rent out rooms for the night. 
They're usually called motels or ho..."

"I just meant, are you wanting a motel or a bed and 
breakfast?"

"Oh."

"Because Maisie has this great little bed and breakfast 
about ten miles up the road. On the other hand, the 
motel... Well, it leaves a little something to be desired."

Lois hesitated. A motel was much more anonymous - assuming 
anyone could be anonymous in a small town. On the other 
hand... "How much to be desired?" 

The other woman laughed. "Trust me. Stay at the bed and 
breakfast."

Lois handed the woman the money for the gas as she in turn 
gave Lois directions to the bed and breakfast. 

"So what are you doing in Smallville?" the woman asked as 
they were concluding their business.

Lois looked around the dinky gas station for a minute 
before responding. "I'm not exactly sure."

* * * * * * * * *

Lois laughed when he slipped his arm around her waist and 
flipped her over onto the bed. Reaching up, she tangled her 
hands in his hair, loving the feel of soft hair between her 
fingers as he looked down at her affectionately.

"Lois," he whispered, the name sounding almost reverential 
on his lips.

Her insides felt as if they were jelly as she pulled him 
forward, sighing softly when his lips began exploring hers. 
He tasted slightly of chocolate, pure, rich, Swiss 
chocolate. Even if it hadn't been her favorite taste 
before, it would be forever in the future. And his scent... 
There was nothing phony about it. Unlike her former fiance, 
he smelled real, natural and so incredibly male. Never 
before had she realized that smell was such a powerful 
aphrodisiac. She almost felt as if it were spinning a web 
around her.

And in a way it was. There were no questions this time. No 
second thoughts. For the first time in her life, she knew 
where she belonged, and more importantly, to whom she 
belonged. It wasn't an act of surrender; it was surrender - 
body, heart and soul. And never had she known that 
surrender could be so absolutely wonderful. 

His lips left hers and he began nibbling on her neck, 
sending jolts of electricity through her body with every 
light nip of his teeth against her sensitive skin. She 
pushed her head further into the mattress and, closing her 
eyes, moaned. She heard a soft growl come from the back of 
his throat in response, causing a tremor to ripple through 
her body. 

She pulled him away from her neck to look into his eyes 
once again. Her hand came up to his cheek as she began a 
slow exploration of the face of the man she loved. He 
patiently allowed her investigation.

"Make love to me," she breathed.

"It's time to get up," he responded.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"It's time to get up," said a distinctly female voice.

Then there was the sound of knocking on wood, pulling a 
reluctant Lois out of her dream. She closed her eyes 
tightly, trying to hold on to her dream for just a few 
moments longer. But it was no use. The sound of the woman's 
voice persisted.

"Ms. Lane, you said you wanted a wake up call at seven. 
Well, it's seven. Are you awake in there?"

"I'm awake," growled Lois, loud enough to be heard on the 
other side of the door. "I'm awake. I'm awake." The final 
two sentences were said under her breath.

"Oh, good. Well, breakfast will be ready in half an hour."

"Thanks," Lois said before rolling over and burying her 
head under her pillow. She closed her eyes, searching for 
the remnants of her dream - but the magic was gone. After a 
moment, she sighed and pulled the pillow down.

She'd had the same dream at least half a dozen times since 
Clark had left almost three weeks ago. And it always ended 
the same - at least in so far as her waking up both alone 
and frustrated.

It was obvious, given what had happened that one night with 
Clark in her apartment, that the man in her dreams was 
Clark. But there was something about the dream that always 
seemed odd. She wasn't entirely sure why, but although she 
knew it was Clark, his face looked different somehow - as 
if she didn't know him. Only his eyes looked familiar. 

She shook off the thought. There was no point in lying here 
puzzling over the workings of the subconscious mind. She 
might as well get up and get on with her day - figure out 
exactly what it was that had brought her to Smallville.

She hesitated for a moment. She knew what had brought her 
to Smallville. She was here to say good-bye. But what if 
saying good-bye ended her dreams? After all, even though 
her dreams left her feeling alone and frustrated, the idea 
of losing him completely, even in her subconscious, was 
unbearable. Maybe she should just forget this pilgrimage 
and head back to Metropolis.

No. She was here now. She would at least visit the cemetery 
where he was buried. She wasn't sure where that would be. 
Maybe Maisie would know the answer to that question. After 
all, when Lois had arrived last night she had definitely 
got the impression that Maisie took pride in knowing 
everything there was to know about Smallville. At least it 
was a place to start.

* * * * * * * * *

The main room of the small lodge had a half dozen people 
helping themselves to breakfast when Lois finally made an 
appearance. It seemed that most knew each other, and all of 
them knew Maisie as she made her rounds among people, 
inquiring after the family or business that had brought 
them to Smallville. Lois suddenly felt a little 
uncomfortable. Maybe she should have stayed at the motel. 
If she had to be in Smallville again tonight, maybe she 
would - inspite of the comments made by the woman at the 
gas station. 

She took a deep breath and headed towards the coffee 
machine.

"Well, Ms. Lane," Maisie bubbled, "I'm glad that you made 
it down. I was afraid that you might have gone back to 
sleep."

Lois gave her what she hoped looked like a friendly smile 
as she poured herself a cup of coffee. This morning maybe 
she'd treat herself by having some cream in her coffee. 
Real cream. He took real cream in his coffee. She sighed.

"Is everything all right?" Maisie asked.

"Hmm? Oh, fine."

Lois picked up her coffee, made her way to a table and sat 
down. 

"We got you checked in so quickly last night that I never 
had a chance to ask what you were doing in Smallville," 
Maisie continued, following Lois to the table.

"No, you didn't," Lois said, offering nothing more as she 
reached over and picked up a muffin off the table. She 
plucked a piece off the muffin and put it in her mouth. 
"These are great," she said when she swallowed, hoping to 
deflect Maisie's inquiries. "Are they homemade?"

Unfortunately, Maisie took the question as an invitation to 
sit down beside Lois.  

"Yes. Not my home, unfortunately, but Betty-Sue Miller 
makes the best homemade muffins in the whole county. She 
makes them for me. I've been trying for years to get the 
recipe from her. But she just won't give it up. Not that I 
can say that I blame her. Did you know that she has won the 
blue ribbon for her blueberry muffins at the Smallville 
corn festival for the past four years?"

"You don't say," Lois responded, trying to keep the sarcasm 
out of her voice.

"Oh, yes. And she's got some stiff competition, too. Why 
just last year Nora Sutter entered a carrot muffin that was 
to die for. So tell me, what brings you to Smallville?"

Lois was taken back by the abrupt change of subject. She 
glanced around. The room, which had formerly been alive 
with conversation, was suddenly deadly silent - as everyone 
seemed to wait for her answer. She hesitated for a moment. 
There was no way she was about to tell a room full of 
strangers that she was visiting the town to say good-bye to 
a man from an alternate universe. 

"Umm..." She sought in her mind for an explanation before 
suddenly being struck by an inspiration. "I'm a reporter 
for the Daily Planet," she began. "Twenty years ago there 
was a tragic fire out at... I believe it was the Kent farm. 
I thought I'd look into it."

"You think there's a story there after twenty years?" asked 
Maisie.

"Well," Lois continued, as the idea began to take hold, 
"the actual story is about unsolved crimes in the past 
which might have been solved if modern day forensics had 
been available." Oh, this was good. On a roll now, she 
continued. "I'm going to find out if there are things that 
would have been done differently today and see where that 
might take me. Who knows, maybe I can even find out who was 
responsible. If I can, maybe I can convince the authorities 
to look into some more of these unsolved cases using modern 
forensic techniques. My editor thought it might make a good 
human interest piece," Lois lied, wondering what Cath would 
think if she found out that Lois had claimed that doing a 
'human interest' piece was her reason for being in 
Hicksville... umm... Smallville.

"Oh, my," said Maisie. "Well, I'll be. I don't think there 
is a person in Smallville who couldn't tell you a story or 
two about that time. It was awful. I can still remember 
when it happened. Don't you, Kyle?" she asked, directing 
the question to one of the guests. 

"Yeah, it was a horrible time," Kyle responded. 

"Well, I was thinking of starting by taking a trip down to 
the Kents' graves," Lois said, deciding that she might as 
well get the information she needed since the whole town 
would probably know the story she had just told within the 
hour. 

"Oh, dear," said Maisie. "Hasn't anyone told you?"

"Told me?"

"There wasn't enough left of the bodies to bury," said 
Kyle. "There are no graves."

Lois felt her stomach lurch. She quickly set down her 
muffin - no longer feeling particularly hungry. It seemed 
that Clark had left out a detail or two about the story, 
assuming that he was even aware of this fact. So what now? 
There was no grave for her to visit. There was no place 
where she could say good-bye.

"Maybe you'd like to take a trip out to visit the house," 
Maisie suggested, as if upset to see her guest looking so 
lost. 

"It's still there?" asked Lois.

"What was left of it after the fire. Kyle, why don't you 
draw a map for Ms. Lane?"

"Why don't you call me Lois?" Lois asked, feeling somewhat 
uncomfortable hearing herself addressed as 'Ms. Lane' when 
these people were being so friendly.

Kyle immediately began drawing a map on one of the napkins. 
Maisie patted her arm in a familial way before getting up 
to pour anyone who wanted it some more coffee.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois reached over and picked up the flowers she had 
purchased on impulse before opening the door of the rented 
vehicle and getting out. She stopped at the mailbox, 
running her fingers absently across the name which was 
clearly visible in spite of the dirt covering the rest of 
the box. She was at the right place.

Raising her eyes from the mail box, she looked at the ruins 
of the old farm house. It was almost peaceful, belying the 
violent act which had caused its destruction. She took 
small steps as she made her way closer.

This was where it had happened. This was where this 
universe's Clark Kent had lost his life. When she reached 
the beginnings of what appeared to be steps, she stooped 
over, silently laying the flowers down before sinking to 
her knees beside the ruin, tears beginning to form in her 
eyes. Reaching up, she hastily brushed them away. 

Still, the tears persisted, forcing her to brush them away 
a second time, and a pain began to form in the back of her 
throat. No. She wasn't doing this. She wasn't going to 
break down. She hadn't broken down at Lex's funeral and she 
wasn't going to break down here. She had just come to say 
good-bye to Clark so that she could close this chapter of 
her life and get on with living. She was not...

A small sob escaped from the back of her throat. To be 
followed by a second one. Not even certain how to put into 
words what she was feeling, she shook her head, trying to 
gain control over her emotions. Her chest felt tight as her 
shoulders began to shake. She forced herself to take 
several deep breaths, trying to calm the involuntary 
reaction she seemed to be having to this place. Closing her 
eyes, she concentrated on breathing, trying to regain 
control. 

But to no avail. Soon the tears came in earnest. Unable to 
stop the tidal wave of emotions, she gave up, finally 
allowing herself to give in to the unstoppable force.

She had no idea how much time passed before the tears 
subsided. But they eventually did, leaving in their wake a 
dull pain in her chest. Letting out a slow, steady breath 
through her mouth, she finally opened her eyes. She relaxed 
slightly, pleased that she now seemed more in control of 
the powerful and unexpected emotions which had been brought 
on by this place. 

She took a moment to allow herself to settle by 
concentrating on the tranquility of her surroundings. A 
slight wind whispered through the surrounding trees. She 
focused on the feel of the gentle breeze on her face. She 
could tell that this had been a good place for a child to 
grow up. She had images of a happy child, perhaps chasing a 
dog around the yard or hunting for buried treasure. The 
thought made her smile. 

Had they grown wheat? Or maybe corn? It appeared that the 
fields around were now being used to grow wheat. But had 
that always been the case? Perhaps they had had animals - 
cows maybe. Or perhaps a horse. She spotted the barn in the 
distance.

Hadn't Clark said that he had spent one night in the 
hayloft? Forcing herself to her feet, she headed towards 
the decrepit building. Pushing the door open, she stepped 
inside. It appeared that the building had been stripped 
bare years ago, leaving only the shell behind. Her eyes 
rose and she looked at the hayloft. It was really the only 
thing worth seeing these days in the old barn. She was 
headed through the shadows to the ladder leading to the 
hayloft when something else caught her attention. There was 
a strange light coming from some cracks in the barn floor.

Walking over, she realized that the light was coming 
through what appeared to be a trap door in the floor. She 
got down on her knees and began pushing dirt out of the way 
until she confirmed her initial impression. There was a 
trap door and emanating from the cracks was a light of some 
kind.

Intrigued now, she began digging out the trap door until 
she was finally able to get a hold of a large iron ring. 
She grabbed onto the ring and, using all her strength, 
pulled. When the door didn't move, she got to her feet and 
put her back into the effort, being rewarded by the door 
slowly moving. Taking another breath, she redoubled her 
efforts. Suddenly, the door gave, swinging open and 
throwing Lois back onto the ground.

She stared mutinously at the door as she recovered her 
breath. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" she finally 
demanded of the silent door. When the door didn't answer, 
she let out a breath and rose to her feet, making her way 
over to the hole which was suddenly left in the floor.

She peered down into the hole for a moment, seeing if she 
could figure out where the light was coming from. When she 
couldn't make that determination, she turned around and 
climbed down the ladder. 

She found herself in a musty cellar. There were shelves, 
still full of canned preserves, probably where Mrs. Kent 
had kept her excess canned items. There were also tools 
down there, unlike the barn which had quite obviously been 
picked dry. But Lois wasn't particularly interested in any 
of it. Instead, she looked around until she spotted a half-
rotten wooden box from which the strange light was 
originating. She quickly made her way over, opening the 
box. 

Much to her surprise, the light appeared to be coming from 
a small globe, which dimmed the instant the box was open. 
She supposed it could be battery operated, but if that were 
the case, why hadn't the batteries gone dead during the 
past twenty years? Almost as if it had read her thoughts, 
the light suddenly went out.

"Great timing," Lois mumbled, reaching through the darkness 
to find the globe with her hands. She knew the instant she 
found it. It was still warm - she suspected as a result of 
the light it had been giving off. 

Determined to figure out what it was, she picked it up 
before turning towards the ladder which had brought her 
down into the cellar. The path back was dark.

"I don't suppose you'd mind glowing again - you know, just 
to help me get out of here?" she asked the globe, but it 
ignored her request.

Letting out a breath through her nose, she began the return 
trip, feeling her way though the unfamiliar cellar.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois blinked when she emerged into the sunlight outside the 
barn. It somehow didn't seem right that the sun should be 
shining. She glanced down at what now looked more like a 
child's toy than anything that might be of interest to her. 
Still, she didn't put it down. There was something odd 
about this toy. How had the batteries managed to stay good 
all these years? Clark hadn't mentioned anything about a 
light coming from beneath the barn. That would indicate 
that someone had been down there recently. Still, that 
didn't make sense either. After all, that trap door had 
certainly not been disturbed in years.

She was still puzzling over the small question when she 
heard something coming down the gravel road. Then suddenly, 
a four wheel drive pulled into view, the markings making it 
clear that it was a police vehicle. When it came to a stop, 
a woman stepped out.

"I'm just looking around, officer," Lois quickly explained.

"You're Lois Lane. Right?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Lois responded.

"Maisie called. She said you were looking into the Kent 
fire."

"That's right," Lois responded cautiously, wondering where 
the officer was going with this.

"Well, I'm the Sheriff around here. Rachel Harris."

"Sheriff Harris, I'm not here to cause any trouble. I just 
wanted to..."

"I used to play with Clark when I was little," Rachel 
interrupted. "I know who you are. You're one of the best 
reporters in the world. If you think you can find out who 
killed Clark... I guess I just wanted to offer you my 
assistance."

Lois felt a moment of guilt. That was the story she had 
given Maisie this morning. But it wasn't true. She had just 
come to Smallville to say good-bye to a good friend. 
Nothing more.

"Listen, Sheriff..." Lois began.

"I'm so glad that someone is finally taking this case 
seriously. It was obvious when the volunteer firefighters 
arrived on the scene that the Kents had been deliberately 
trapped in the house. Yet the Smallville police were taken 
off the case quite quickly twenty years ago. It was turned 
over to the FBI. I tried to look into the investigation 
shortly after I was elected Sheriff - you know, just 
because it was the one major case that had never been 
solved - but the Feds stonewalled me."

Lois had been trying to cut into the Sheriff's speech since 
the woman had started talking, to explain to her that she 
wasn't really looking into the death of the Kents. But 
something about the woman's comments about the Feds 
stonewalling the Sheriff peaked her interest. She was 
seriously listening when Rachel Harris continued.

"I haven't had time to do anything else on the case," 
Harris explained. "But it has always bothered me. Maybe you 
have sources that I don't. You certainly have more 
experience. Usually, I end up looking for some grandpa with 
Alzheimers who has wandered off. Or dealing with a domestic 
assault. You know, that sort of thing. There hasn't been a 
murder here the whole time I've been Sheriff. I don't even 
know where to start.

"Anyway, I assembled a file of all the information I could 
find about the fire," Rachel continued. "If you want to 
follow me back to the station, I'll show it to you. I've 
looked through it a dozen times, trying to find any hints 
about what happened all those years ago. Maybe you'll see 
something I've missed."

"Thank you, Sheriff," Lois said, completely surprised by 
this turn of events. Usually the police saw her as someone 
to avoid whenever and wherever possible.

"Call me Rachel," said Rachel, holding out her hand to 
Lois.

"Rachel," Lois repeated with a smile while taking the 
offered hand. "And I'm Lois."

"Great. Well, if you're finished here..."

Lois glanced around. "Yeah. I guess I am."

Lois absently tossed the globe onto the passenger's seat of 
her rental vehicle and climbed inside. She waited until 
Sheriff Harris started her vehicle and pulled out before 
heading out behind her.

Lois wasn't entirely certain what she thought she was 
doing. But for some reason, she suddenly needed to know who 
was responsible for the death of the Kents as much as the 
Sheriff did. At least, she could take a look at what 
Sheriff Harris had before making a decision about whether 
or not to pursue it. Still, for the first time since Clark 
had left this dimension, Lois felt the familiar stirring in 
her gut which told her she was on to a story. And she had 
to admit that it felt good. Maybe looking for the person or 
people who were responsible for Clark's death was exactly 
what she needed to get back on her game. At the very least, 
it couldn't hurt.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois was confused when, only a couple of miles down the 
road, Rachel's truck turned onto the road to another farm. 
Lois hesitated for a moment, wondering why they weren't 
going back into town, before following the police vehicle.

"Why are we here?" asked Lois when both vehicles stopped 
and their occupants emerged.

"This is the home of Wayne and Helen Irig. They were good 
friends with the Kents. And Wayne was one of the first 
people on the scene at the time. I had the station call 
ahead and they said they could see you now. I thought you'd 
want to talk to them."

"Yes. Definitely," said Lois, amazed once again by what 
appeared to be the best cooperation she had ever received 
from the police while investigating a story. Of course, she 
wasn't actually investigating a story. She pushed that 
little detail to the back of her mind. After all, if she 
did find out who killed the Kents, she was certain 
Catherine would run the story.

As Lois and Rachel approached the house, the door opened 
and an older man and woman appeared in the doorway. Rachel 
took a moment to introduce Lois to the older couple before 
they were invited inside. 

"So we understand you want to know about the fire at the 
Kent's," said Wayne. 

"Yes. I'm hoping to find out exactly what happened," Lois 
responded.

"Funny how that goes," said Wayne.

"What's that?"

"Well, it's just that we had a man here asking questions 
about the fire a few weeks ago," said Helen.

"What?" asked Lois.

"Yeah," Wayne responded. "What was his name again, honey?"

"Umm... Scarson... No. Scardino. I'm sorry I don't remember 
his first..."

"Dan Scardino?" Lois interrupted.

"That's him," said Helen. "Is he connected to you?"

"Umm... No. But..." Her voice trailed off as she attempted 
to get a handle on the possible implications of Dan 
Scardino being there, asking questions about the fire. When 
they had first mentioned someone asking about the fire, she 
thought they were going to tell her that Clark had been 
there. But Dan?

Her mind flashed back to what she had begun to suspect 
about Dan during her investigation of Lex - that he was 
leaking information to Lex. She still had no proof of that. 
And with Lex dead, it hadn't been a high priority. But with 
this new information... The thought trailed off as a new 
possibility struck her.

"What did this man look like?" she asked.

"Thirtyish. Dark. Good build," said Wayne.

"Very good looking," Helen put in, provoking a look from 
Wayne that caused Lois to smile.

"Good build?" Lois asked. Although Dan fit the remaining 
description, he wasn't exactly what she would consider a 
muscle man. 

"Very good build," said Helen. "He could have been a 
professional athlete."

Lois nodded. Clark. It had to be. 

"Anyway," Helen continued, "we told him what we knew and he 
took off out of here like we'd killed his parents."

Lois nodded. Definitely Clark. "What did you tell him?" she 
asked and then pulled out her notepad and began taking 
notes as Wayne and Helen filled her in. 

In essence, she was told about the green crystal Wayne had 
found, how he had sent a piece to Metropolis for testing, 
how government men had shown up the next week asking 
questions, how he had given the rest of the rock to 
Jonathan Kent for safe keeping and then how he had received 
an emergency call in the middle of the night telling all 
volunteer firefighters to get to the Kent farm. 

"Did the government men say what they were looking for?" 
asked Lois when Wayne and Helen finished their recitation 
of the tale. 

"Something about environmental contamination," Wayne said. 
"But I didn't believe it."

"Why not?"

"I grew up on this farm. I know everything there is to know 
about every inch of it. I knew there was no environmental 
contamination. Now, if they were to come by today, I might 
take a different view - acid rain, erosion of the ozone 
layer, illegal dumping of toxic materials. You know, things 
like that. But this was the seventies."

"Can you remember what branch of the government they were 
from - or any of their names?"

"They said they were from the Environmental Protection 
Agency. At the time, I just figured I'd never heard of it 
before, but..."

"But what?"

"Well, the EPA wasn't created until the early eighties. I 
know, because when they announced the creation of the 
agency, it confirmed my thoughts that the men who were 
snooping around back in 1977 weren't legitimate," said 
Wayne.

Lois' eyebrows rose and she glanced over at Rachel who was 
finding Wayne's revelation as interesting as she was.

"Did you tell anyone this?" asked Rachel.

"Who was I going to tell? The investigation had died years 
before. Besides, I told the FBI at the time what I'm 
telling you now - that the men said they were from the 
Environmental Protection Agency. So they could have made 
the connection as easily as I could."

"What else can you tell me? Do you remember any of the 
men's names?" Lois asked.

Wayne and Helen looked at each other for a moment before 
shaking their heads. "Sorry, it was too long ago."

"Would you recognize their pictures?" Lois asked.

"Maybe. I'm really not sure."

Lois nodded. "Okay, well you've been a big help."

"If we think of anything else, should we call Maisie's?" 
asked Helen.

"How did you know... Never mind. I'll probably be working 
out of the police station today. I'm not sure where I'll be 
staying tonight."

"Oh, you're not thinking of staying at the motel, are you?" 
asked Helen, the disgust obvious in her tone.

"Umm..."

"It might be a bit more convenient to the police station, 
but trust me, honey, you don't want to stay there," Helen 
continued.

"No. No. It's not that," Lois lied, not wanting Maisie to 
find out that she had been thinking about staying at the 
motel - not after how helpful Maisie had been earlier. "I 
just meant that I hadn't decided whether I was going to 
stay in Smallville another night. But..." She hesitated. 
She probably would need at least another day to find out 
everything she could in Smallville. "But you're probably 
right. I think I'll need to stay at least one more day. So 
I guess... if you have any information for me and I'm not 
at the station, call Maisie's. But only leave a message for 
me to call. I can't stress enough how important this is. 
You can't give information to anyone else. It could 
compromise our investigation," Lois said, figuring that she 
really had no choice now but to stay at Maisie's. "If I'm 
gone, leave the information with Rachel. I'll make sure she 
knows how to get in touch with me."

Helen and Wayne looked over at Rachel who nodded her 
agreement.

"Well, okay," Wayne responded.

* * * * * * * * *

"Tell me something," said Lois as she followed Rachel into 
the police station. 

"Sure."

"Well, don't you find it sort of odd that the FBI handled 
the investigation? What interest would the federal 
government have with a murder in a small town? It wasn't as 
if it took place on federal property or that there was a 
federal interest of some kind involved."

"I find it very odd," Rachel said. "In fact, I asked the 
federal agent I spoke to about it."

"And?"

"And he said that the Sheriff at the time, George Hines, 
specifically requested FBI involvement - told them he 
didn't have the experience to handle something this big. 
They say they did it as a favor, a gesture of inter-agency 
cooperation."

"A favor?"

Rachel nodded, looking as skeptical as Lois felt. She 
gestured Lois to take a seat at a table as she walked over 
to a large file cabinet and opened it.

"Did you run this by Sheriff Hines?" Lois asked as Rachel 
reached into the file cabinet and removed a manilla file.

"No. Sheriff Hines died in a car accident a few years after 
the murders," Rachel said, closing the file cabinet and 
turning back to Lois.

Lois nodded slowly. "Interesting."

"You don't think there's a connection - between the 
Sheriff's death and..."

"No. Well, I don't know. It's just..."

Rachel took a seat at the table, pushing the file folder 
across to Lois. When Lois reached out to take it, Rachel 
kept her hand firmly on the folder, forcing Lois to meet 
her eyes.

"You know something you're not telling me, don't you?" 
Rachel asked, although it was not exactly a question.

Lois was hit by how sharp this hick Sheriff seemed to be. 
Lois was absolutely certain she hadn't given any hint that 
she might have some inside information - but still Rachel 
had somehow sensed that she was withholding something. But 
could Rachel be trusted - at least with partial disclosure? 
After all, if there was one thing Lois had learned during 
the course of the day was that there was no such thing as a 
secret in a small town. Still, Lois liked Rachel. She had a 
personal interest in finding the men who had killed Clark.

Not that Lois had any intention of telling Rachel the whole 
story. She had got lucky with her sister. She had no 
intention of having this woman think she was crazy with 
talk of alternate universes and flying aliens. Still, it 
might be worthwhile providing Rachel with as much 
information as possible so that Rachel could be as much 
help as possible. 

Glancing around, Lois noticed that the door to the room was 
open. And given the fact that there had been two other 
officers in the station when they had arrived, it might be 
best if they had this discussion behind closed doors. As if 
she read Lois' thoughts, Rachel got up, made her way to the 
door and closed it. 

"Okay," said Lois slowly, gesturing Rachel back to her 
seat. "I had a tip about this case."

"What sort of tip?"

"I can't tell you that. What I can tell you is that this 
source has reason to believe that the military was involved 
in the attack on the Kents. The bureau involved is called 
Bureau 39. Have you heard of it?"

Rachel shook her head. 

"He also mentioned someone named Jason Trask. Does that 
name mean anything to you?"

Rachel furrowed her eyebrows. "He's the man I was directed 
to when I contacted the FBI for information about the Kent 
fire."

"What?" gasped Lois, lurching forward in her chair.  "He 
works for the FBI?"

"I guess. I called Langley and was put on hold while they 
transferred me to Jason Trask. He's the one who stonewalled 
me. You think he's involved in this?"

"My source thought so."

"But why would the FBI or this Bureau 39 want the Kents 
dead?"

Lois shrugged. That question was getting dangerously close 
to the information she was trying to avoid telling the 
Sheriff.

"So what do you have for me?" asked Lois, directing her 
attention to the file Rachel had brought over earlier. 

"Well, there's not a lot in here. We only had the case for 
a few days before the Feds took it over. Fortunately, 
before he handed the case over to them, Sheriff Hines made 
copies of everything he had to that point."

She pushed the file across to Lois who immediately flipped 
it open. She quickly skimmed the first few pages. Then she 
came across something that surprised her.

"Medical reports?" she asked. "I thought... Well, I guess I 
didn't figure there would be any medical reports - given 
the fact that Maisie told me that there wasn't anything 
left of the bodies."

"Nothing left is a bit of an overstatement."

"How so?"

"There were the odd... umm... body parts - seriously burned 
but still identifiable as body parts. Nothing big, of 
course. But they were there, mixed in with the ashes of the 
house."

Lois' stomach lurched. Keeping her eyes firmly on the 
medical report, she fought against the feeling of nausea. 
Suddenly, she noticed something that definitely caused her 
heart to leap into her throat. Forcing herself to calm 
down, she took a moment to make sure she hadn't missed 
something.

"Why are there no DNA reports?" she asked, trying to keep 
her voice from trembling.

"Come on, Lois. This was the seventies. There was no DNA 
analysis."

"But there are only two blood types listed here. What makes 
you so convinced that there were three victims?"

* * * * * * * * *

Lois paced around her room at Maisie's, lost in thought. 
She had finished going through what little Rachel had been 
able to give her, even taking a copy of the entire file. 
Then Rachel had introduced her to everyone who had been in 
some way involved in the investigation at the time. But 
through it all, Lois' mind kept coming back to one very 
simple revelation. There had only been two blood types 
found. 

Of course, Rachel had presented a fairly convincing 
argument for there being three victims. The fire had taken 
place in the middle of the night - when the entire family 
would have been home. No one had turned up afterwards - not 
Martha or Jonathan or Clark. Surely if they had been alive, 
they would have sought help from someone in town. 
Firefighters and police officers had thoroughly searched 
the area around the house, looking for clues. If one of the 
Kents had gotten out of the house and been hurt, surely he 
or she would have been found then - or the body would have 
been found since. 

But there was one small fact that Rachel didn't know. One 
detail that could very well point to a survivor. Clark's 
alien origins. Would he even have a blood type similar to 
humans? That could mean either that they hadn't found his 
blood or that they had and hadn't recognized it as blood. 

Still, Lois couldn't help but feel... or perhaps it would 
be more accurate to say she couldn't help but hope that... 
She couldn't complete the thought - almost afraid that if 
she completed it, all the flaws in her theory would appear, 
making hope impossible. 

So now what should she do? If the survivor, assuming there 
was a survivor, had been Martha or Jonathan Kent, surely 
they would have turned to a neighbor. The only one who 
might not have done so was Clark - not if what he had seen 
those men do to his parents had scared him badly enough. 
But he was only an eleven year old boy. So where would he 
have gone? 

Suddenly, Lois quit pacing. There was another possibility. 
What if Jason Trask hadn't killed Clark but had only 
captured him - to study the alien? The very thought made 
her shiver. After a moment, she shook her head. They 
wouldn't have been able to hold him - not once he had 
developed his powers anyway. 

Unless... Both Clark and Irig had mentioned a green 
crystal. Clark had called it kryptonite and informed her 
that it could kill him. One would assume that meant it 
could incapacitate him as well. Nothing in the file she had 
received from Rachel had mentioned anything about some 
strange, green crystal being found at the scene. So Trask 
could have found it and taken it with him - couldn't he? 
And if that were the case, it was entirely possible that 
Trask had taken Clark and been keeping him captive all 
these years - treating him like a lab rat, studying him, 
testing him. The thought made Lois almost hope that Clark 
was dead.

So now what did she do? Jason Trask. The FBI. Bureau 39. 
She had to find out if they had Clark. But how did she do 
that? Her thought trailed off as an idea began to form. 
Making her way to the phone, she picked it up. 

* * * * * * * * *

"What?" asked Lucy.

"There is a possibility that Clark is still alive," Lois 
reiterated into the phone. 

"But if that's true, where has he been all these years?"

"I think he might have been taken by the government bureau 
I told you about. Listen, I need your help."

There was a long moment of silence. Lois held her breath as 
she waited for her sister to evaluate what she had been 
told.

"What do you need me to do?" Lucy finally asked.

Lois let out her breath. "Do you know anyone at the FBI who 
owes you a favor? Surely in your job in Washington there 
have been times when you've done business together."

"And if I know someone like that, what do you want me to 
do?"

"Have him check out Jason Trask. In Clark's world, he was a 
member of a military bureau. I suppose it's possible that 
here he works for the FBI. Either way, I need to know."

Lucy let out a long, slow breath. "Okay, I'll see what I 
can do."

* * * * * * * * *

Lucy stared silently at the phone for a long moment. She 
had accepted her sister's comments about alternate 
universes and flying aliens the other night because she had 
realized how important it was to Lois to be believed.

But now that her sister seemed intent on doing more than 
simply visiting a graveyard and saying good-bye, Lucy was 
beginning to have second thoughts. It felt a little as if 
she had entered the twilight zone. How far exactly should 
she let her sister pursue this matter? 
				
Her hand landed on the phone as she continued to think. It 
was just a phone call, after all. And maybe it would put 
this matter to rest. 

Besides, she knew just the person to call at the FBI. She 
was fairly certain the man had a crush on her. He was 
always falling all over himself to impress her. Not that 
she shared his feelings. He was kinda cute, but she loved 
her husband too much to consider cheating on him. Still, 
Corbin's crush had its uses. She picked up the phone and 
dialed a familiar number.

"FBI. Can I help you?"

"May I speak to Johnny Corbin, please?"

* * * * * * * * *

Lois made her way down to the main room in Maisie's bed and 
breakfast. It was late, but she really could use a bite to 
eat - chocolate, preferably. She hadn't seen any place 
where she could buy a Double Fudge Crunch bar, but maybe 
Maisie could point her in the appropriate direction. 

The main room was empty when Lois arrived. She heard noises 
coming from the kitchen and made her way over. She 
hesitated slightly. It was obvious that the kitchen was off 
limits to guests. 

"Hello," Lois called. 

"I'm in here," Massie responded, giving Lois unvoiced 
permission to enter the kitchen.

When she did, she was confronted by an unexpected smell - 
and boy did it smell good. Her stomach gave a slight 
rumble. Maisie looked over her shoulder from where she was 
buried in her cooking. 

"Fudge," she said, giving Lois a wink. "It isn't finished 
yet but... Well, I need someone to clean the bowl. Are you 
up to it?"

"Definitely," Lois said, making her way closer. Maisie 
finished pouring the liquid fudge into a pan and then 
handed the bowl and spoon to Lois. "You have no idea how 
much I need this," Lois said, raising the spoon to her 
lips. "Mmmm," she moaned, closing her eyes and allowing all 
of her senses to enjoy the moment. "This is better than a 
Double Fudge Crunch bar."

Maisie laughed. "I'm glad you like it. By the way, I wanted 
to say that we all thought it was very sweet what you did 
today."

"Did today?"

"You know. The flowers. Sandy Bower called this afternoon - 
she's the woman who owns the flower store. Anyway, it was 
really thoughtful of you to take flowers with you when you 
went to the Kent house."

"Oh. Umm... Thanks," Lois responded, feeling more than a 
little sheepish. It wasn't exactly the professional image 
she wanted to portray. Why had she bought flowers, anyway?

"It's just that so many city folk come out here, thinking 
that we're just a bunch of backward hicks and don't seem to 
realize that we care about each other, take care of one 
another. Your gesture told us that you're one of us. 
Between that and your efforts to find out who killed the 
Kents... Well, if there is ever anything you need, you just 
feel free to let us know. You'll always have friends in 
Smallville."

A small lump formed in Lois' throat. She directed her 
attention back to the bowl of fudge, running a finger 
inside to collect some of the sweet substance. She 
stuttered out an embarrassed expression of gratitude. She 
wasn't at all sure why she felt so touched by Maisie's 
words, or the idea that she had been accepted as an 
honorary member of the Smallville community.

"Oh, there's one more thing," said Maisie. "When I was 
looking for my fudge recipe, I came across something I 
thought you might like."

She walked over to a counter and picked up two four by six 
index cards and brought them back over, handing them to 
Lois. "Do you cook?" Maisie asked.

"Yeah."

"One is Martha Kent's recipe for oatmeal raisin cookies. 
The other, her recipe for lasagna. They are both 
delicious."

"Thanks," Lois responded, looking carefully at the recipes. 
Both looked simple enough and for some strange reason, she 
could hardly wait to find out what kind of cook Martha Kent 
had been.

* * * * * * * * *

Tempus, known to this universe as J.D. Templeton, caressed 
the document as if he were running his hands over a woman's 
body. He finally had it. Luthor Towers was now his. All 
his. And later tonight he would be meeting with the 
demolition expert to plan how and when the building would 
be leveled. Oh, there were still those nasty permits to 
take care of, but Templeton wouldn't let anyone or anything 
stand in the way of turning that testament to Lex Luthor 
into a pile of rubbish. 

After all, this was the reward for his brilliance. He had 
manipulated the other universe's Clark Kent into destroying 
this universe's Lex Luthor. Destroying Lex Towers was 
Templeton's reward for a job well done. And he intended to 
enjoy every moment. Besides, his brilliant plan had managed 
to accomplish so much more than the destruction of Lex 
Luthor.

A slow smile made its way across his face. Not only had he 
managed to destroy Luthor, he also had dismantled the 
threat known as Lois Lane. She hadn't produced a single 
quality story since Luthor's death. Templeton wasn't 
entirely sure whether it was the death of her fiance, the 
knowledge that Luthor had made such a fool of her or 
meeting and then losing the other universe's Clark Kent. 

Kent. He had to wonder exactly what had happened between 
Lane and Kent in this universe. If he had been thinking, he 
would have installed surveillance cameras in Lane's 
apartment before 'inviting' Kent to this dimension. Of 
course, it was no big loss. After all, the Kent of the 
other universe had been married, and Templeton doubted that 
the big blue boy scout would have taken advantage of having 
another woman throwing herself at his feet. But he had to 
admit he was curious. After all, would the two women make 
love the same? Or were those the types of things that would 
differ with each universe? And most importantly, did Clark 
Kent now know the answer to that question? If Templeton had 
set up a camera, he would now know. And he was certain he 
could find a way to sneak such a tape back to the other 
universe's Lois Lane.

He sighed at the thought of the missed opportunity. 

Oh, well. It had still proven to be a brilliant plan. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing from the phone 
on his office's desk. Making his way over, he pressed the 
intercom button.

"Yes?" Templeton asked, somewhat annoyed about being 
interrupted in his musings.

"Excuse me, sir," said his secretary over his intercom. 
"But there is a man named Nigel St. John here to see you. 
Do you have time to see him?"

Templeton's eyebrows rose. What did Luthor's number one man 
want? Intrigued, he responded. "Send him in."

Only seconds later, Nigel entered Templeton's inner 
sanctuary. Templeton walked behind his desk and took a 
seat, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on 
his desk. "So what does Luthor's number one henchman want 
with me?" he asked, pursing his fingers in front of him.

"I seem to find myself recently unemployed," Nigel 
responded. 

"And what does that have to do with me?" Templeton asked. 

"I was wondering if I might be of service to you."

"And why would I hire a man who let his employer go down in 
smoke - or gunshot, so to speak. I'm not looking for a 
trash collector at the moment. After all, with the death of 
your boss, I don't have any competition left in this city. 
So why would I need someone with your unique... talents?"

"That's true, sir. But one need not have competition to 
find that dangers lie beyond every corner."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Templeton responded, his 
feet finally leaving his desk to settle on the floor.

"Lois Lane."

"Pfff," Templeton responded. "In case you haven't heard, 
Lois Lane isn't quite herself these days."

"So I have heard. But you and I both know that it's only a 
matter of time before she's back. And when she does come 
back, you will continue being her target."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I'm the one responsible for making you her target 
in the first place."

"And you think this is going to convince me to give you a 
job?" asked Templeton, somewhat amused.

"Actually, I do, sir. Given my past activities, I could be 
a most valuable asset to you. I have a source close to Ms. 
Lane. You would always know what she was working on so that 
you could cover your tracks before she became a serious 
problem. And I know many of her sources. In fact, most of 
them work for me. Those could be used to direct her 
attention elsewhere.

"Besides, I'm sure I have other talents you might find 
particularly useful," Nigel continued. "Before I worked for 
Mr. Luthor, I was employed for MI6."

"And you want to work for me now?" Templeton asked, 
settling back into his chair, impressed by the lengths 
Luthor had gone to in order to control that troublesome 
reporter. 

"For the right price."

"And just what price would be right?"

"I need employment, sir."

Templeton pursed his fingers together again. He knew from 
the history books that Nigel St. John had betrayed Luthor 
in the other universe. That meant that the man could not be 
trusted. On the other hand, his offer was intriguing. He'd 
always thought it might be nice to have a man Friday. There 
was only one problem.

"Is there anyway authorities can track Luthor's activities 
back to you?"

"No, sir. Trust me, any loose ends have been tied up. I'm 
very thorough."

Templeton smiled. "Have a seat, Nigel. We have to discuss 
the details of your new job."

* * * * * * * * *

"You're giving up?" asked Rachel of the woman in front of 
her later the next afternoon. There was no mistaking the 
disappointment in her voice.

"No!" Lois responded immediately. "I just think it's time 
for me to go back to Metropolis. I have a few leads to 
follow up. And I think I've got all the information here 
that I can. I've talked to so many people now who remember 
that time that I feel a little overloaded. It's time to 
follow up on what I have. I can do that best from 
Metropolis."

Rachel nodded slowly, if a bit skeptically. 

"I will find out who did this, Rachel," Lois said, keeping 
her eyes firmly on the other woman's. 

"Sorry," Rachel finally responded. "We're just used to 
hearing that a lot. There was so much hope when the FBI 
took over the investigation. That was the end of what we 
were told. When I ran for Sheriff, one of my main goals was 
to try to find out what happened to the Kents. You're the 
best chance we've had in years."

Lois nodded, wondering if people in Metropolis would still 
desperately want those responsible brought to justice after 
twenty years if she were killed. 

"If there is anything we can do to help, please let me 
know," Rachel continued.

"Thanks, Rachel," Lois responded. "I will. I certainly 
wouldn't be anywhere at all without the help you've given 
me so far."

"I don't know if this goes against your professional 
ethics, but I'd really appreciate if you would keep me 
informed about your investigation."

Lois opened her mouth to say that she would, but then 
hesitated. How could she promise that? She wasn't even 
telling Rachel everything now. And after how helpful Rachel 
had been, Lois couldn't justify lying to the woman.

"I'll do my best," Lois finally responded.

* * * * * * * * *

Lucy paced back and forth in Lois' apartment at 344 Clinton 
Ave., staring at the papers in her hands. Lois was due back 
any minute. As soon as that happened, Lucy was determined 
to confront her sister about this development. Had Lois 
completely lost her mind? 

Hearing noise outside the apartment, Lucy turned towards 
the door just in time to see the door pushed open and Lois 
step into the apartment, in one hand her suitcase, in the 
other a bag of groceries. 

"Would you mind explaining this?" Lucy demanded 
immediately, holding the papers up in the air in 
accusation.

"Umm... Hello to you too, sis," Lois responded setting down 
her suitcase and carrying the groceries into the kitchen.

Lucy let out a breath. 

"Hi," Lucy conceded. "Now would you mind explaining exactly 
what you think you're doing?"

"Trying to get the groceries put away?"

"Ha, ha. No. I mean these," Lucy said, waving the papers in 
the air once again. "They arrived about an hour ago."

Lois made her way to her sister. Taking the documents, she 
looked at them before rolling her eyes. "Oh, that."

"What the hell does that mean? Lo, I can't believe that 
you're giving that much money to some lawyer."

Lois made her way back to the kitchen. "You're a lawyer."

"Yeah, well. If you wanted to leave it to me, I might have 
a different perspective. But do you even know this guy? If 
he was Lex's lawyer, chances are he's dirty. Why would you 
give him the money to..." She grabbed the documents back 
from Lois and flipped through them for a moment before 
finding the phrase she was looking for. "...dispense with 
as he, in his sole and absolute discretion, deems 
appropriate?"

"So?"

"He's planning to dispense the money to himself."

Lois closed her eyes. Why was everyone giving her such a 
hard time about this? "Lucy..."

"I want you to think about this for a moment. Lois, you're 
a reporter. That's not exactly a high profit profession. 
Are you telling me that you couldn't put this money to 
better use than some scumbag lawyer?"

"Lucy..."

"At least tell me you'll think about this before signing 
these documents?"

Lois let out a long slow breath. "Fine. I'll think about 
it."

Lucy looked at Lois for a long moment before nodding.

"So what did your friend at the FBI have to say?" Lois 
asked.

Lucy let out a breath. This conversation wasn't over. But 
for now, having Lois promise to think about what she was 
doing before signing those papers was enough. "Apparently 
there is no one named Jason Trask working for the FBI."

"So it's a dead end," responded Lois, the defeat in her 
voice obvious.

"Not exactly."

"What?"

"Well, he did a little additional research and found out 
that there is a standing memo that if anyone inquires about 
the fire at the Kent farm, they are to be forwarded to a 
man named Jason Trask who is connected with military 
intelligence."

"So if a person were to call the FBI asking about the Kent 
fire, they would be connected with Trask - thinking that 
they were still talking to the FBI?"

"That's the gist of it."

"Is this common?"

"Not according to Corbin. In fact, he doesn't know of any 
other case where anything like that is done."

Lois chewed on her lower lip as she considered the new 
information. "Military intelligence, huh? Isn't that kind 
of a contradiction in terms?"

"Lois, what are you thinking?"

"Does Corbin know the exact number these calls are 
forwarded to?"

"I suspect he could get it. Why?"

"Well, I'm thinking that a little snooping might be in 
order. And if I have the phone number, I can back trace it 
to an address."

"Lo, breaking and entering is still a crime."

"Pfff."

"And if I'm understanding you correctly, you're thinking 
about breaking into a military installation."

"I have to know, Luc."

Lucy looked at her sister for a long time before 
responding. "I'll call Corbin," she said, making her way to 
the phone.

Lois smiled. "Thanks, sis."

"One of these days I expect to get a call from you saying 
that you've gone one step too far and need me to bail you 
out of jail."

"You'd do that for me?" asked Lois, a mocking humor in her 
voice.

"It would depend on whether or not I had something better 
to do - like washing my hair." There was a moment of 
silence before Lucy spoke again - this time into the phone. 
"Johnny Corbin, please."

"Look, while you make your call, I think I'm going to try a 
new lasagna recipe I got."

* * * * * * * * *

Lois straightened her tight fitting skirt and stepped out 
of the rental car. She picked up a pack and swung it over 
her shoulder. Popping open the hood, she used the rod to 
hold it up. Almost instantly, the sound of screeching tires 
could be heard. Lois glanced up in time to see a pick-up 
truck come to an abrupt halt on the street next to her. She 
sighed. It was too early. Besides, the young man was not 
what she was looking for.

"Can I be off any assistance?" he asked, his eyes slowly 
undressing every portion of her body.

"Yeah, you can call my husband at the next gas station."

The young man seemed to lose interest and a moment later 
the pick-up truck disappeared down the road. Lois shook her 
head and turned back to the engine. Reaching inside she 
removed the distributor cap, took out a screw driver and 
loosened one of the screws underneath. Fastening the 
distributor cap again, she returned to the car and tried to 
start it. Nothing. Perfect. 

Getting out of the car, she removed her gloves and stuck 
them in her pack. Once again she buried her head in the 
engine, as if trying to figure out what was wrong. 

Only a minute or two later another vehicle could be heard 
approaching. She glanced up to see an army jeep making its 
way down the road in her direction. Perfect. Smiling, she 
pulled her head out of the engine, stepped further into the 
road and waved down the approaching vehicle. 

A soldier pulled to a stop. Lois smiled. He couldn't be 
much more than the eighteen years he had to be to enlist. 
He was exactly what she was looking for. 

"Thanks for stopping," Lois said, using her best 'dumb 
blonde' voice. "I seem to have a teensy-weensy problem. My 
car won't start. And I don't have a clue how to make these 
things work. Could you help me?" She smiled helplessly at 
the young man who was quite obviously hesitant.

"I really can't help. I was ordered to go..."

Lois put her best pout on her face, running a hand down her 
hip to emphasize her curves. His eyes followed the course 
her hand was taking. "Please? I'm sort of scared being 
stranded out here alone."

The young man looked her over for a moment before pulling 
the army jeep off to the side of the road and putting it in 
park. "Okay," he said, stepping out of the vehicle, "what 
seems to be the problem?"

"Well, I just don't know." She followed the young man to 
the front of her car. "It just quit."

She waited until he was checking the engine before slipping 
quietly towards his jeep. A moment later, she was driving 
away. She could hear the man yelling after her, could see 
him chasing her in the rearview mirror. She hit the gas and 
was soon out of sight of the man still following her. 

She drove another ten minutes down the road before pulling 
off to the side. Taking a quick look in the rearview 
mirror, she proceeded to open the pack she had brought with 
her. It only took her a minute to get changed into the army 
uniform she'd had made years ago while conducting an 
investigation at Fort Truman. It had gained her access to 
the base then. She hoped it would again. After all, when 
she had traced the number Johnny Corbin had given her 
sister, it had led her to the same military base - one 
which coincidentally was located just outside Metropolis. 
Given the fact that she knew the base as a result of her 
previous adventure, she was fairly certain she knew which 
building to investigate. All she needed to do was to 
convince the officers on guard outside the military 
installation that she had a right to be there.

Reaching into the pocket of her uniform, she withdrew the 
phoney orders she had obtained from Billy Ink-Fingers that 
morning. She checked them one final time before putting the 
jeep back in drive and heading towards Fort Truman. She 
just had to remember the correct hand for saluting. That 
was what had given her away the last time. She just hoped 
that no one at the base remembered her.

She rounded a corner and came to a screeching halt. No more 
than twenty feet in front of her, in the middle of the road 
were a flock of wild geese. She honked her horn, but that 
accomplished little more than provoking a couple of dirty 
looks from the geese. Slowly stepping on the gas, she 
inched forward, eventually chasing the geese out of the 
way.

Shaking her head, she continued towards Fort Truman.

* * * * * * * * *

Ducking into the shadow between file cabinets, Lois held 
her breath as the voices got closer. Getting onto the base 
and into the warehouse had been easier than anticipated. 
The problem seemed to be how to get back out. 

When she had first entered the warehouse, she had been 
stunned. The building had been filled with odd, dust 
covered metallic piles of junk. But it was junk as she had 
never seen. Most of the items appeared to be space ships. 
But whether or not they were, Lois had no idea. Only when 
she turned back one sheet and discovered a small craft, 
only big enough for a very small child, did she know she 
was on the right track. On the hood of this particular 
craft was a predominantly displayed symbol, the same symbol 
she had seen on Clark's chest when he had spun into the 
Superman suit for her. 

In addition to the 'crafts,' if that was what they were, 
were rows of filing cabinets. Opening the first one, she 
saw photos of what appeared to be U.F.O.s. Again, real or 
not, she had no idea. But she continued to search through 
the cabinets until she came across a file marked 
'Smallville 1966.' Her heart had raced as she'd removed the 
file.

She again felt for the file she had stuffed under her shirt 
when she had heard the sound of people approaching the 
room. She wished she'd had time to read it before taking 
refuge in her hiding place. In fact, she could hardly stand 
staying hidden, waiting to read it. After all, this file 
might well tell her where they were holding her Clark. She 
closed her eyes briefly wondering when he had become her 
Clark. 

Of course, there was always the possibility that this file 
would confirm that Clark was dead. Even if he hadn't died 
at the house, there was nothing saying that they couldn't 
have killed him later - after they had finished with their 
experiments. She quickly shook the thought off. Until she 
had definitive proof to the contrary, Clark Kent was alive. 
She refused to believe otherwise.

The thought retreated to the back of her mind as the voices 
which had forced her into her hiding place entered the 
room. 

"But what makes you think that the intruder was looking for 
this place, Colonel Trask?" the first man asked.

"Our contact at the FBI tells me that someone accessed the 
computer last night to get the phone number here. The only 
thing that number is used for is to redirect inquiries into 
the Kent fire. That a woman hijacked an army jeep this 
morning and entered the base is too much of a coincidence 
to believe the two events are not connected," came the 
reply.

Lois chanced a quick glance around the file cabinet. She 
really wanted to see what this Trask character looked like. 
Unfortunately, the two men were facing away from her.

"Any idea who was making the inquiries?"

"Not yet. But we better find out fast. If the truth ever 
came out... Well, let's just say that the American public 
doesn't have the stomach to do what needs to be done to 
protect the planet. That's why they assign the job to 
people like us. And that's why we don't give them the 
details of our activities. But those same people wake up 
safe everyday because of the work we do."

"And the Kents, sir?"

"Collateral damage. Regrettable, but unavoidable."

The two men took one final look around the room before 
heading off to search elsewhere. Lois let out a breath. Now 
there was just the problem of getting out of the complex 
without getting caught. But, hey, that was her specialty. 

She glanced at her watch. Her sister should be driving her 
jeep past this place in about thirty minutes. That gave her 
some time to get out of there. Now, if only she knew how to 
accomplish that.

* * * * * * * * *

Lucy sat in Lois' parked jeep, looking at her watch every 
ten seconds. Lois had given her very specific instructions. 
It all depended on her following the time line Lois had 
given her to the second. Lois had even insisted that they 
synchronize their watches before starting. Although exactly 
how Lois could know how long stealing a jeep, breaking into 
Fort Truman, searching for classified documents and busting 
out again was going to take, Lucy had no idea. Still... she 
checked her watch again.

At least for the first time, Lucy was actually being 
trusted behind the wheel of Lois' baby. She reached out and 
gently patted the steering wheel. Of course, was that 
really enough to make up for the fact that Lucy would get 
disbarred if she were caught helping Lois in this 
adventure? Then who would bail her big sister out of jail 
when she was charged for breaking and entering? 

This whole adventure was getting more and more out of hand. 
The problem was that Lois seemed capable of making the idea 
that Clark Kent was alive seem... almost plausible. There 
were only two blood types found at the scene. Surely 
someone would have picked up on the idea that a third blood 
type was... alien. Then there was the whole matter with the 
FBI. Lois had mentioned a Jason Trask before that name had 
come up in her investigation. And if Lois was right about a 
man - maybe not human, but a man nonetheless - being held 
against his will for scientific experimentation... Well, 
the idea didn't sit any better with Lucy than it did with 
Lois.

The problem was that Lucy didn't think Lois was exactly on 
an errand of mercy. How much were the feelings Lois had 
developed for the alternate Clark affecting her decision to 
search for this Clark? And was that healthy? After all, if 
this Clark Kent had by some miracle survived, what type of 
man might he be? Years of captivity, experimentation and 
even torture had to have left some pretty deep scars. Was 
Lois only setting herself up to get hurt? 

Lucy checked her watch again. Only a few more minutes 
before she was supposed to go. 

What was Lucy supposed to do if this search didn't provide 
the information Lois needed? Did Lucy continue helping 
Lois, even though the search itself was somewhere just 
north of pure madness? Or did she try to intervene? Not 
that she necessarily could anyway. But the idea of watching 
her sister's obsession with a man she didn't even know 
worried Lucy. On the other hand, when she had first arrived 
at Lois' apartment, Lucy had been scared by the lack of 
color in her sister's face and the lack of animation in her 
eyes. This quest, or whatever it was, that Lois seemed to 
be on was giving her sister purpose. Did she really have 
the right to take it away? 

Well, there was probably no point in borrowing trouble. 
Maybe this trip to Fort Truman would give Lois what she 
needed. If not... Well, was there really anything else that 
could be done in this investigation? One way or another, 
wasn't this their final lead?

Lucy checked her watch. Time to go. Her only hope was that 
her sister was on schedule. After all, she didn't 
particularly relish the idea of waiting down the road from 
Fort Truman in hopes that her sister would show up.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois crouched down beside the building, wishing the sun 
wasn't quite so bright this afternoon. Still, the afternoon 
shadows appeared to be providing her with some cover beside 
this building. 

She could tell that security at the front entrance of the 
military post had been doubled. There was no way that she 
was going to be able to bluff her way out. On the other 
hand, she doubted that they would shoot if she were to make 
a run for it. Trask might, of course. But then Trask wasn't 
there. At least, she didn't think he was. She hadn't been 
able to get a look at his face. But no one matching his 
build, hair color and rank appeared to be present. So if 
she timed this just right, maybe there was a chance that 
she could get out of this. 

She checked her watch again as the final seconds ticked 
off. She hoped her sister hadn't been delayed somehow - by 
a wayward flock of wild geese perhaps? This adventure was 
also dependant on whether her estimations of the time it 
would take her sister to drive to the base were correct.

Time. Taking a deep breath, she began the final run towards 
the front entrance to the base. Fortunately, although the 
number of men at the entrance had increased, the only 
barrier was still the pole that went across the road. She 
kept her eyes focused on the road on the other side of the 
barrier as she put all of her strength into her running. 
She could hear voices shouting in the background. In her 
peripheral vision, she could see men running in her 
direction.

The pole crossing the road continued to get larger. Only a 
few more yards now. She felt a hand grasp onto the shoulder 
of her uniform. She refused to slow her pace, feeling a 
little like a football player trying to run through a 
tackle. The material at her shoulder pulled tight, she put 
her arms back and continued racing forward. She felt the 
material go tighter still until, suddenly and unexpectedly, 
the buttons on the poorly made uniform ripped open and the 
shirt pulled off her body, leaving only the low cut black 
shirt she had used to flag down the man with the jeep 
earlier. 

Her run continued. She jumped the pole and a white Jeep 
Cherokee slammed to a halt only a few feet in front of her. 
She didn't look back as she tore open the door and threw 
herself across the back seat. 

"Go!" she yelled without pulling the door closed. 

Lucy didn't hesitate. She hit the gas, sending Lois further 
into the seat and closing the jeep door. Lois closed her 
eyes and sighed as the jeep picked up speed, taking her and 
her sister further away from the angry voices.

Lucy didn't give her sister more than a moment to recover 
before beginning the inquisition. "Did you get it?"

"Yes."

"Well? Is he alive?"

"I haven't had a chance to look. But..." Lois reached down 
and pulled out the file which she had taken care to ensure 
was not only tucked safely in her army top, but was being 
held in place by her black shirt, her belt and even by her 
bra. She shoved it between the seats so that Lucy could 
clearly see the brown manilla file with 'SECRET GOVERNMENT 
DOCUMENTS - EYES ONLY' written on it.

"Great," muttered Lucy. "Not only are we guilty of breaking 
and entering. But now you've added theft of classified 
documents to the list."

Lois chucked in satisfaction.

"Does anyone know it was you?" Lucy continued.

"Na. The car wasn't rented in my name. The kid who stopped, 
allowing me to... borrow his jeep, doesn't know my name. 
And the men who were chasing me don't know my name."

"So unless they got the license plate number..."

"They didn't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Oh, right. I forgot to mention. I... borrowed someone's 
license plates. I need to return them."

Lucy groaned. "What about the car rental? Surely they have 
your name."

"No."

"And how did you accomplish that? Or wait! Do I want to 
know?"

"Probably not. But during the trip I made to see Billy Ink-
Fingers, I sort of picked up some other identity documents. 
That's what the rental company was shown."

"And fraud," Lucy muttered.

"You can be such a kill-joy. Did you know that? When did 
that happen? I thought my sister was more fun than this. It 
was that 'becoming a lawyer thing' wasn't it? What you call 
'breaking and entering,' I call... snooping. What you call 
'fraud,' I call pretending. It's all a matter of 
perspective."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "So where to?"

"My place. I'm dying to take a look at this file. I've got 
a really good feeling about this. I think we're only hours 
away from finding my Clark."

"Since when did he become 'your Clark?'"

Lois didn't respond.

* * * * * * * * *

"Well?" demanded Trask when his second in command entered 
his office.

"The plates on the jeep were stolen," Major Edward Dawson 
responded. "So no indication of who broke onto the base 
from that."

"And the rental car?"

"There were no prints inside the car. The woman must have 
been wearing gloves. And the identity documents used to 
rent the car were phoney."

"So we have no idea who was here?"

"Not exactly. I got the rental agreement."

"And?"

"Fingerprints."

"Who."

"Lois Lane."

"Reporter for the Daily Planet? That Lois Lane?"

"Yes, sir."

* * * * * * * * *

Lois' eyes closed as her head sank into her hands. Dead. 
How was that possible? She had been so certain that he was 
alive. There wasn't exactly anything definitive that she 
could put her finger on as the reason for her belief. It 
was more a... feeling than anything else. 

Not that she usually believed in feelings. In fact, until 
this moment she would have denied that her intellect was in 
any way being affected by her feelings in this case. But 
the documents she had found seemed pretty definitive. This 
universe's Clark Kent... her Clark Kent was dead. 

Apparently, Jason Trask and some others, under the orders 
of a General George Thompson, had gone to Smallville to 
check out a meteor find, as a result of Wayne Irig sending 
a piece of an unknown crystal to Luthor Labs. They had 
found a space ship which would hold a creature no larger 
than a human infant. As a result, they had become convinced 
that an alien could be found in that small, backwoods 
community known as Smallville. 

After learning about the green crystal, Trask didn't take 
long to come to the conclusion that the Kent child, a child 
who had come from nowhere at the time of a meteor shower in 
1966, was the alien. His belief had been reinforced by the 
reaction the creature had to the green crystal. As a 
result, they had approached the Kents with the intention of 
taking the alien for study and, eventually, dissection. 
What they hadn't anticipated was the ferociousness with 
which the Kents had chosen to protect the 'child' - even 
when confronted with the knowledge that the 'child' they 
were hiding was actually the frontrunner of an alien 
invasion, sent to grow up and blend in on Earth in order to 
prepare it to lead an invading alien force.

Shots had been fired and both Martha and Jonathan had been 
killed. The child had been captured and the fire had been 
started with the express purpose of covering up the crime. 
Unfortunately, Trask and his men hadn't exactly been 
experts at making a fire appear accidental. They had 
removed the bullets which had killed the Kents - to ensure 
that they would not be found - but had then proceeded to 
use gasoline to start the fire.

Then the unexpected had happened. The alien, even though 
weakened by the green meteor they had discovered, had 
dashed into his house apparently in the hopes of saving the 
humans who had given it aide and comfort - and never came 
out. 

Trask and his men had watched from the surrounding fields 
as the Smallville volunteer firefighters had arrived at the 
scene. As a result, they had seen the entire building burn 
to the ground. It wasn't until the firefighters had left 
that Trask and his men had again approached - only to 
discover that the fire had consumed everything - the house, 
the furniture, the humans and the alien. 

They had taken the meteor - in order to ensure that they 
had a weapon when the masses followed the alien later. But 
otherwise, their only remaining option had been to sweep 
the case under the carpet. That had taken a little finesse. 
But it had worked. No one had questioned the involvement of 
the FBI. No one had questioned the conclusion that the 
perpetrators were drifters who would likely never be 
caught. In point of fact, no investigation had ever been 
done. All the evidence sent by the Smallville Sheriff's 
office had been destroyed. And all inquiries about the case 
had been directed to Bureau 39 - and subsequently buried.

Lois had cringed every time she had come across words like 
'creature,' 'it,' and 'alien.' But she had nearly broken 
down when she had realized that the papers were proof of 
Clark's death.

"I'm so sorry, Lo," came Lucy's voice as she sat down next 
to Lois and handed her a glass of brandy. 

Lois looked at the brandy for a moment before downing the 
entire contents of the glass. 

"I know how much you wanted him to be alive."

Lois looked at her sister and half attempted at a smile. 
When the effort failed, she turned her eyes back to her 
empty glass - as if staring at it would give her something 
to focus on other than the deep, cutting pain inside. 

"Look, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to turn in," 
said Lois.

"That's probably a good idea."

Still, Lois continued to sit there, staring silently into 
her empty glass. Where did all this pain come from? How 
could she be hurting so deeply over the death of a man she 
had never met? For all she knew, he was nothing like the 
Clark Kent from the other universe. How could he be? Even 
if he had survived, been captured by Trask, the experience 
would have forever scarred him. She shook her head 
slightly. Still... what she wouldn't give to look in his 
eyes just once.

"I'm going to bed," said Lois again, this time rising to 
her feet and slowly making her way towards her bedroom, 
each step feeling as if she were trying to climb Mount 
Everest. She stumbled slightly and suddenly, her sister was 
there, helping her, steadying her. Loving hands pulled back 
the covers on the bed and it wasn't long before Lois felt 
her clothes being gently removed and being settled in bed. 
The blissful darkness came almost immediately.

* * * * * * * * *

Dawson handed the address to his two men.

"What do we do if the broad tries to stop us?" asked 
Parker.

"Whatever is necessary. Just make sure you don't kill her. 
Colonel Trask doesn't want the cops probing around into her 
murder. She's too high profile - what with being a reporter 
and the 'widow' of Lex Luthor."

"But roughing her up a little is all right?" asked Freddy.

"Just get the file," Dawson growled before turning and 
leaving the room. 

"Well, pal, up for a little midnight snooping in the 
apartment of a beautiful woman?"

"Only if I get first dibs on her underwear drawer."

"Fine. But I get first dibs on the woman," Parker 
responded, giving a gesture that clearly communicated his 
attention. "After all, Dawson did say we could rough her up 
a little."

Freddy laughed, nodding vigorously. It was good to have fun 
with one's job.

* * * * * * * * *

Lucy's hand hovered over the phone. The information Lois 
had managed to obtain was definitely damning. There were 
incriminating, hand-written or signed documents linking 
George Thompson, Jason Trask and a number of other 
individuals to the murder of Jonathan, Martha and Clark 
Kent. There was also enough in that file to justify a 
congressional investigation into the branch of the military 
known as Bureau 39.

Okay, so the FBI were involved. But exactly who was 
involved and what their role was, Lucy didn't know. But 
then she didn't need the FBI to follow up on this. She knew 
people in the Attorney General's office.

There was only one thing holding her back. Lois. She really 
should talk to Lois before making this call. She backed 
away from the phone. She would talk to Lois in the morning. 
There was no reason this call needed to be made tonight.

* * * * * * * * *

It was always safer to search an apartment when no one was 
there. On the other hand, it was much more exciting when a 
beautiful woman was inside who might wake up at any moment. 
With that in mind, Parker and Freddy made their way up the 
steps to Lois Lane's apartment. 

The living room lights had gone out some time ago - 
indicating that the woman inside must have gone to bed. 
Dawson had told them she lived alone, so if the file they 
were looking for was in the living room, they should be 
able to be in and out before she even knew they were there. 
It got tricker if she had taken the file into her bedroom. 
On the other hand, 'tricky' merely meant 'more of a 
challenge.' And it wasn't as if either Parker and Freddy 
didn't know what to do with a beautiful woman - especially 
one who was fighting back.

Freddy removed a couple of small tools and knelt down in 
front of the door while Parker looked around, cautiously 
evaluating any threats from without. The only sound was 
when the small click announced that Freddy had managed to 
get the first lock on the door undone.

* * * * * * * * *

Lucy opened her eyes briefly. What was that clicking sound? 
Looking into the darkness, she dismissed the sound as a 
product of her half-asleep mind, rolled over and closed her 
eyes.

* * * * * * * * *

The door was soon unlocked. Very cautiously, Freddy turned 
the handle and both he and Parker stepped noiselessly into 
the apartment.

* * * * * * * * *

Trask waited impatiently to hear from his men. Getting up 
from behind his desk, he began to pace. 

"How badly can that file hurt us?" came a voice from the 
doorway.

Spinning towards the voice, Trask looked at the man 
standing in the doorway. 

"George," Trask said in acknowledgment of George Thompson's 
arrival at his office. "Don't worry. I've got two of my 
best men on it."

"That wasn't what I asked," Thompson growled. "How badly 
can it hurt us?"

"We'll get it back."

"What was it still doing in existence, anyway? I thought I 
told you quite some time ago to destroy everything we found 
in Smallville."

"We don't know when the rest of the creature's species will 
show up. For all we know, their life span might be a 
thousand years. It is critical that future generations have 
all of our information for when the invasion begins. We 
can't destroy it."

Thompson let out a slow breath. "Then how did you let it 
fall into the hands of that reporter?"

"Would you relax? We'll get it back."

* * * * * * * * *

Inspector Bill Henderson stepped cautiously into the 
apartment and looked around. The place looked as if it had 
been completely trashed, as if World War III had suddenly 
erupted in this small corner of the universe and demolished 
only one apartment - or more accurately, one room of one 
apartment. As far as he could tell from his position near 
the door, the bedroom looked fine. 

"Anyone want to tell me exactly what happened here?" he 
asked.

Lois and Lucy looked at each other sheepishly. 

"Do you mean, why my apartment is a mess? Well, that can be 
explained by my poor housekeeping techniques," said Lois. 
"Or are you referring to why there are two men tied up in 
the middle of my living room?" asked Lois. "That's simple. 
It's just the Lane sisters on the prowl again."

"Yes, Inspector," Lucy continued with a slight giggle, 
"this is just our idea of dating."

"Hmph," Henderson responded, stepping further into the room 
and taking a look at the two men lying unconscious on the 
floor. "Well, so much for questioning the suspects." He 
squatted down next to them and checked pulses.

"They'll be fine, Inspector," Lois said. "We never kill our 
dates. Just maim them a bit."

There was another chuckle from Lucy. 

"Okay, if you two are done with feeling pleased with 
yourselves, how about some straight answers?"

"Sorry, Inspector," said Lucy. "It's my sister's fault. She 
seemed to bring out the worst in me. These two men broke 
into her apartment while we were sleeping."

"And?"

"Well, our dad always insisted that his daughters know self 
defense," Lois said.

"Smart man, your dad. So you two went from fully asleep to 
fighting these two and winning?"

"It wasn't much of a fight," Lois responded. "In case you 
didn't know this, Henderson, men have a weak spot. We 
just..." Lois began, starting to raise her knee in 
explanation.

"...took advantage of it," Lucy completed, giving Lois a 
swat.

"A couple of well placed hand movements more and..." Lois 
pointed to the two unconscious men on the floor. "So we 
tied them up and called you."

"Any idea if they were after anything in particular? Or was 
this just a random break and enter?"

Lucy looked over at Lois. This was her decision. After all, 
Lucy had no idea whether Henderson could be trusted - given 
the apparent government involvement in the Kent murders. 
Only Lois could answer the question of how much information 
to give Henderson.

"I suspect they were after this," Lois said without 
hesitation, walking over to the kitchen table where the 
file was lying. She picked it up and handed it to 
Henderson.

"And what's this?"

Lois and Lucy shared a look before Lois gestured Henderson 
to take a seat. This was going to take some time. Lucy let 
Lois take the lead. After all, there were certain... 
elements to the story which were probably best left out. 
Bill Henderson didn't appear to be the type to be overly 
impressed by alternate universes or flying aliens. On the 
other hand, the look on his face as Lois filled him in on 
what the file proved told Lucy that he was the type to be 
very interested in an unsolved triple homicide.

"So you think the Kents were killed because these deranged 
alien hunters, authorized by the government, thought that 
this family were aliens?" asked Henderson in disbelief when 
Lois had finished her explanation.

"Not the entire family. They only thought the child was an 
alien. But yes. That's why they did it. And that file 
proves it."

"Wow!" Henderson said, looking at the file. "I guess these 
guys were real nuts. Anyway, can I take this?" asked 
Henderson, indicating the file. "It seems that they know 
you have it. If it is as damaging as you say, they will try 
again. I'd rather not have the evidence here. In fact, I 
suggest that the two of you find other accommodations for 
the next couple of days."

"I think we'll be fine..."

"I think that's a good idea, Inspector," Lucy interrupted, 
giving her sister a silencing glare. "If you need to get 
hold of us, we'll be spending the rest of the night at the 
Lexor."

"I do need a copy of that file, Bill," said Lois. 
"Catherine would kill me if I let a story like this just 
go."

Henderson smiled and then nodded. "I thought you were off 
work for a while. How did you stumble across this?"

"It's a long story."

"It always is," Henderson responded. He glanced down at the 
file. "Well, however you happened across it, thanks. It's 
out of my jurisdiction, but I'll be sure the original falls 
into the right hands." He rose to his feet.

"Thank you, Inspector. And could you give the Sheriff in 
Smallville a call? She was incredibly helpful in uncovering 
this. I'm sure she'd appreciate being kept in the loop," 
Lois concluded, rising to her feet as well.

* * * * * * * * *

The bed seemed incredibly empty. Lois curled up at the side 
and buried her face in the pillow, allowing it to sop up 
the silent tears which seemed to go on forever. He was 
dead. In fact, at this moment Henderson was probably 
obtaining arrest warrants. Murder in the first in the 
deaths of Martha, Jonathan and... Clark Kent. A small sob 
rose in the back of Lois' throat. Closing her tear-filled 
eyes, she buried her head even deeper in the pillow - 
determined to lose herself to the oblivion of sleep. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" came a strong, gentle voice from the 
doorway.

She glanced up just in time to see him take a seat on the 
bed beside her.

"You're alive," she breathed. 

He smiled. His beautiful, devastating smile. 

"I thought..." Her voice trailed off.

"I'm not that easy to kill," came the response. 

Suddenly, his large hands were on her face. With the pads 
of his thumbs, he gently brushed away her tears before 
lowering his head to hers. 

The kiss was soft, a gentle brushing of lips against each 
other - reassurance that he was indeed alive. He pulled 
back slightly to look again in her eyes. Her hand came up 
and buried itself in the hair on the back of his head in 
order to pull him to her again. 

This second kiss was unlike the first, full of unspoken 
passion. Her tongue brushed not so gently against his lower 
lip, demanding a response. He gave it, opening his mouth to 
allow her to taste him. 

She moaned. God, she loved the way he tasted. But this 
time, his taste was more intoxicating than she remembered. 
She had thought him dead. The fact that he wasn't, that he 
was safely in her arms, was like an aphrodisiac. Her free 
hand began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, undoing 
them so that she could slip her hand inside. He groaned 
when her hand conformed itself to the shape of his chest, 
gliding easily over the smooth planes. He was hard and yet 
yielding. She could feel his muscles flex under the gentle 
pressure of her hand. She traced her hand over every muscle 
before allowing her second hand to join the first in 
running over his stomach.

"God, Lois," he breathed, breaking contact with her lips 
and sucking in air - although she had the distinct 
impression that a lack of air was not what was making him 
breathless. 

She slipped her arms around him, underneath the confines of 
his shirt, and pulled him to her. He came willingly, 
conforming his body to fit with hers. She could feel the 
warmth of his chest through the thin confines of her sleep 
apparel, enforcing in her mind the simple truth that he 
wasn't dead. He was here - with her. He was exactly where 
he should be. Finally. 

It felt as if she had waited her whole life for this 
moment. It was right. She knew it. Her hands began to move 
across his back as she sought to know every inch of his 
body by touch. His head dropped into the sensitive skin of 
her throat and he began nibbling. Her entire focus became 
centered on the activities of his lips on her neck. She 
tilted her head to the side and whimpered, silently begging 
him to continue, to explore further, to persist in 
provoking these endless sparks of electricity in her body. 
A series of soft moans escaped from the back of her throat 
as he continued to find new territory to investigate.

She felt his hands begin maneuvering their way under the 
edge of the t-shirt she was wearing as he sought greater 
contact with her body. The broken whimper she gave in 
response seemed to further encourage his actions and his 
hands became bolder as he sought to know every inch of her. 

"Yes," was her single breathed word before all was lost in 
the tidal waves of sensations poured on top of sensations 
which flooded through her body, wiping all further 
conscious thought from her mind as she allowed herself to 
simply feel and respond to his increasingly intimate 
caresses and demands of his body, and her own.

After that, images faded to be replaced by flashes and 
feelings.

* * * * * * * * *

Templeton stared for a long, silent moment at the man in 
front of him.

"Smallville, Kansas?" he repeated, just to be sure that he 
had heard the man correctly.

"Yes, sir," Nigel responded. "My source overheard a 
conversation between Ms. Lane and her boss."

"Do you know why?"

"No, sir. I could put some resources on into finding out, 
though, if you like."

Templeton leaned back in his chair and considered the 
question. He supposed it was natural that Lois would decide 
to make a trip to Smallville. After all, Templeton didn't 
know exactly what the other universe's Clark Kent had told 
her about where he came from. And besides, even if she did 
go to Smallville, it wasn't as if she was going to be able 
to find Clark Kent. Templeton had been very careful in his 
research before deciding to settle in this universe. There 
was absolutely no doubt that this universe's Clark Kent was 
dead.

When he had arrived in this dimension, Templeton had even 
gone into the future to make sure that there was no mention 
of Clark Kent in the history books. And given the fact that 
he was absent even there, Templeton had no doubts about 
Lois Lane's inability to find her 'hero' in Smallville. And 
if she were in Smallville as Nigel was indicating, she 
wasn't bothering him. So Smallville was as good a place for 
her as anywhere.

"Na. It doesn't matter. What matters is that she's not in 
Metropolis. I do want to know, however, the moment she 
returns to the Daily Planet."

* * * * * * * * *

For the first time since the Clark Kent she had known had 
left this dimension, Lois Lane didn't wake up in the 
morning feeling lost. She felt... content. For the first 
time, her dream had left her feeling complete. Of course, 
it was also the first time that their relationship had 
actually been consummated before she had woken up. Not that 
she could remember any of the details, of course, but the 
feeling of contentment was still there. She purred and 
slowly stretched, looking around the unfamiliar room. The 
Lexor. They had come to the Lexor. Right. 

Just then, the door joining her room to that of her 
sister's opened. 

"You awake," asked Lucy from the doorway.

"Yeah, sis. Just woke up."

"I was just going to order some breakfast. You up to having 
something to eat?"

Lois sat up in bed and stretched again. "I'm more than up 
to it. I need something to eat. And then I've got to think 
about what my next step is."

"Next step?"

"For finding Clark."

"Lo, Clark's dead."

"Why do you think that? Because of some file written by a 
bunch of xenophobic Nazis? Pfff. He's alive, Luc. I know 
it. I just need to figure out where he went after his 
parents were killed."

Lucy stared at her in disbelief.

"So what are you waiting for? Go order us some breakfast. 
I've got to start figuring out my next move."

* * * * * * * * *

Lois was scribbling on the pad of paper in front of her as 
she took a bite of the bagel. If Clark had somehow escaped 
Trask, where would he have gone? He was only eleven. That 
meant, according to the other Clark, that he didn't have 
all his powers yet. And if the other Clark were anything to 
go by, it seemed that Clark's thinking processes were much 
like those of any human - whether that meant that 
kryptonians and humans thought the same or that being 
raised by humans made Clark that way, she didn't know. 
However, what that did mean was that she had to think like 
an eleven year old boy. Since she had never been an eleven 
year old boy, that did present something of a challenge. 
What did an eleven year old boy think about? Sex? No, he 
would have been too young for that - wouldn't he? Besides, 
even if he did think about sex, how did that help her find 
Clark? 

"Where would an eleven year old boy go if his parents were 
killed?" Lois asked, looking up at her sister.

"Lo, this is crazy. He's dead. You've got to come to terms 
with..."

"No! Lucy, he's not dead. You didn't feel it. My dream last 
night. It was so real. I woke up just knowing that..."

"Would you listen to yourself? Have you lost your mind? 
It's been twenty years. He would have let someone know..."

"Not if he saw his parents killed because they were trying 
to 'protect the alien'." The last phrase was emphasized by 
Lois cocking her fingers. "He might very well have decided 
that he couldn't risk any other lives."

"He was eleven. Do you really think he would have been 
worrying about his neighbors' safety?"

"Okay, then. How about this? He didn't know who he could 
trust. He just wanted to get as far away as possible. So 
he..."

"I don't believe this. I was hoping you were right when you 
went to Bureau 39. But he's dead, Lois. I know you think 
he's the great 'love of your life,' but..."

"This isn't about me." Lois let out a breath. "Okay, so 
maybe it is a little. I just need to know. One way or the 
other. Maybe I'll meet him and think he's the biggest jerk 
who ever walked the face of the earth. Or maybe I'll find 
out that he's some criminal or..." Her voice trailed off.

"What?" asked Lucy.

"That's it."

"What is?"

"He was a boy. He couldn't get a job. He would have had to 
steal food to live - wouldn't he? He might have a criminal 
record. Even if he doesn't, his fingerprints might have 
turned up somewhere. A driver's license. The army. 
Somewhere."

"So?"

"His fingerprints. If he and the other Clark are exact 
duplicates physically, and judging by what he knew about my 
body, I'm guessing they are..."

"You never mentioned this."

"It's not important. The important thing is that they 
probably have the same fingerprints."

Lucy leaned back in her chair and looked at her sister as 
if she had lost her mind. "It's been... What, three weeks 
since he went back to his universe. Where are you going to 
get his prints?"

Damn! Good question. It wasn't as if she had saved his wine 
glass on the off chance that she might need his prints. 
She'd washed the glass. She'd remade the sofa bed - her 
sister had even spent a few nights there. Anything he would 
have touched at the Daily Planet would have been touched by 
others a hundred times since then. 

"Look, Lo, I've tried to support you in this. I've been 
understanding, I've even done things which could get me 
disbarred. But it's over. I know you don't want to accept 
this, but Clark Kent is dead. You've got to let this go."

"He's not dead. I told you my dream..."

"Are you even listening to yourself? A dream? What's next? 
Cutting open lambs and reading entrails? This isn't the 
Lois Lane I know. The one I know is a pro at finding the 
facts - at keeping her emotions, her feelings and most 
especially her dreams out of her investigations. I can't 
keep supporting this."

"If I could prove that he is still alive..."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"If I could, would you support my continuing the search?"

Lucy hesitated. Even if Clark Kent were alive, finding him 
might take years. Did she really want to encourage her 
sister to throw her life away chasing this shadow?

"Even if he is alive, how would you go about finding him? 
One person on a planet of six billion - or is that seven 
billion? In any event, if what you told me is true, if he 
really can fly, he could be absolutely anywhere. 

"And what are you going to do? Do you really think you will 
be able to hold down your job at the Planet and conduct a 
world wide search for a man who doesn't want to be found? 
Where are you going to get the funds for this? It's not 
exactly as if you've been able to save a lot of money 
during your years as a reporter."

Lois listened to her sister's comments. She raised some 
good points. A man who could fly could be anywhere on the 
planet. He might not have been able to fly when he was 
eleven, but now... He could be living in seclusion in the 
middle of the Sahara desert. There was no way, even if she 
could discover where he was living that she would ever be 
able to afford to travel to most of these places. Hell, 
she'd just managed to save enough last year for a trip to 
Tahiti. She was currently working on saving enough for a 
trip to Hawaii. 

"Lex!" Lois exclaimed.

"What?"

"The two hundred million dollars."

"I thought you weren't prepared to take any of that money."

"Well, I am entitled to change my mind, aren't I? Hey, 
you're the one who's been pushing me to reconsider."

"To make your life a little easier. Or to decide what 
charities to give it to. Not to finance some wild goose 
chase all over the world."

"I thought it was my money - to do with whatever I see 
fit."

"It is. I just..." Lucy's voice trailed off.

"Then if I can prove to you that he's alive, will you 
support me?"

Lucy let out a slow breath, informing Lois that she had 
outmaneuvered her sister. 

"To a point," Lucy finally responded.

Lois jumped to her feet. "Well, come on. We need to get 
dressed. I know where we can find his fingerprints."

"Where?"

"My Pulitzer. Clark touched my Pulitzer. I knew that award 
would come in handy someday."

* * * * * * * * *

Lois was just finishing up in the bathroom when the phone 
in her room began to ring. "Could you get that, Luc?" she 
yelled through the door.

"Got it," came her sister's response. There was a moment of 
silence before Lucy spoke again. "Lo, it's for you. 
Inspector Henderson."

"Great! Just the man I needed to talk to," Lois responded, 
pulling open the bathroom door and making her way to the 
phone.

"Bill?" she asked when she took the phone from her sister. 
"Why are you calling at this time in the morning?"

"I thought I should let you know that arrest warrants have 
been issued and that most of the culprits are in custody."

"Most? Who escaped?"

"We can't find Jason Trask or his second in command, Edward 
Dawson. But I don't want you to worry, we expect to have 
them in custody by the end of the day."

"That's great, but..."

"What?"

"It's just... Well, I need a favor."

"A favor? From me?"

"Yes."

"Is this a personal favor or a work type favor?"

"Personal."

"So I take it you want this off the record. Quite a switch 
coming from a reporter."

Lois let out a slow breath.

"Are you okay, Lois?" came the suddenly serious voice on 
the other end of the line, as if taken back that she hadn't 
responded with some smart-ass come-back.

"Yeah. I just need some help."

"What do you need?"

"If I bring something to you, can you have it dusted for 
prints and then trace the prints for me?"

There was a moment of silence, during which Lois held her 
breath.

"Bring it by," Henderson finally said.

"Thanks, Bill," Lois responded, unable to believe quite how 
much of a relief it was having him agree to do this. She 
supposed she could always hire a firm. But she trusted 
Bill. He and Catherine had been good friends to her for 
years. If there was anyone she could trust as much as her 
sister, it was them.

Feeling re-energized, she headed back to the bathroom to 
finish getting ready. Time to prove that Clark was still 
alive.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Please let him 
be alive," she breathed, voicing the fear she hadn't 
admitted to her sister.

* * * * * * * * *

"Would you sit down?" demanded Lucy. "You're beginning to 
make me nervous."

"I'm okay. I'm just wondering what is taking so long," Lois 
responded, stopping only long enough to respond to her 
sister before starting her restless pacing in Bill 
Henderson's office again. The Inspector had left them there 
over an hour earlier. Since that time, Lois had fingered 
every picture and nick-nack the inspector had in his 
office.

"Well, first they had to dust the frame for prints," Lucy 
continued. "Then I suspect they have to run them through a 
number of different fingerprint databases. After all, I 
doubt there is some sort of central fingerprinting 
database. Then..."

Lucy's voice trailed off when Bill Henderson opened the 
door and stepped into the office.

"Well?" asked Lois, her heart in her throat.

"I'm not sure why you want this, but..."

Lois didn't wait. Seeing the handwritten paper in his 
hands, she grabbed it, scanning the document for herself. 
After a moment, she closed her eyes and seemed to 
recommence breathing. 

"Charles King. Born February 28, 1966. It's him," Lois 
said, finally seeming to recover the power of speech. She 
looked over at Lucy. "He's alive."

"What exactly does it say?" asked Lucy.

Henderson was the one who answered. "The prints were traced 
to the youth record for a Charles King. I'm not sure if 
it's what you want, however. It is between fifteen and 
twenty years old."

"When exactly?"

"August of 1978 was the first conviction - which suggests 
he was actually charged sometime before then. His last 
conviction was in May 1983 - when he was seventeen."

"Where is the record from?" asked Lucy, rising to her feet. 

"Rapid City, South Dakota. I'm sorry it took so long. But 
youth records are sealed. Fortunately, I have a friend who 
works for the Rapid City Police Department. Although they 
can seal records, they can't seal police officers' 
memories. So I called my friend and he did some digging. 
That's what he came up with," he concluded, pointing to the 
handwritten criminal record Lois had swiped from him. 

"He is still asking around, trying to get more information 
surrounding this kid's record. If you look at what he was 
able to tell me, you'll notice that