Curiosity Killed the Reporter
By ML Thompson <thomplaw@tbaytel.net>
Rated: PG-13
Submitted: April 2005

* * * * * * * * *

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. For a complete disclaimer, go to: 
www.thompsonlawoffice.ca/Disclaimer.htm  Special thanks to the 
writers of Honeymoon In Metropolis, which is the episode where I 
begin this story. You'll notice that the first few pages include 
a regurgitation of the dialogue at the beginning of that episode 
- with a few small modifications for the purposes of my story. 
But don't worry, I go my own way from there.

Once again, I would like to express my gratitude to Gerry and 
Carol for all their hard work. They caught grammatical errors, 
found plot holes and gave me some much needed encouragement. 
Thanks so much, ladies. I am also very grateful to everyone on 
the Fanfic Message Boards (http://www.lcficmbs.com/index2.html) 
who answered my silly question. You'll note that, although I 
originally intended to use Spanish, I ended up using Canadian 
French. Also, I'd like to thank everyone responsible for giving 
us the episode scripts (available at the Fanfic Message Boards ­ 
see url above). They saved me a lot of time looking up details 
from other episodes to use in my story. Oh, and thanks to David 
for use of the word 'thwap' <g>. Finally, thanks to Janet (Toc) 
for editing this story for the archives.

* * * * * * * * *

Curiosity Killed the Reporter

* * * * * * * * *


* * * * * * * * *
FRIDAY
* * * * * * * * *

Lois turned off her computer and put away her files. She switched 
off her small lamp before reaching under her desk to pull out the 
overnight bag which had been hidden there all day. She could 
hardly believe how much she was looking forward to this weekend. 
She had just risen to her feet when a familiar voice drew her 
attention towards the owner.

"Lois, are you going somewhere?"

She glanced over to see Clark making his way towards her, 
followed by Jimmy and Perry.

"Yes, I am," she responded, slightly annoyed that Clark had not 
only noticed, but commented on the fact that she had her 
overnight bag. She had hoped to slip out quietly, without having 
to explain anything about her plans, slightly afraid that if they 
knew what she was planning to do, it would ruin her 'Mad Dog 
Lane' reputation. But it was five o'clock on Friday afternoon. 
She had every right to relax for a weekend of complete self-
indulgence - a luxurious hotel suite, room service, spa 
treatments, massages and one of the most luxurious pool and 
exercise rooms in Metropolis. If anyone knew how to build a 
hotel, it was Lex.

"Where?" Clark asked.

"I don't mean this to sound rude, Clark, but it's none of your 
business."

"You've got a scoop, don't you?" he continued.

Before she knew what was happening, Perry, Jimmy, Clark and Cat 
were all surrounding her desk. 

"It's the revolution in South America, isn't it?" said Jimmy. 

"Nuh-uh," Cat cut in. "The riots in Miami."

"Five bucks," responded Jimmy.

"You're on," said Cat, exchanging some sort of weird handshake 
with him.

Lois glanced, stunned, between the two of them. Now they were 
even betting on what Lois Lane did with her weekend off - and it 
seemed none of them were even considering that she might actually 
be planning to do something fun. What was she? A mule that one 
ties to a pole and makes walk in a circle, all day, every day?

"Lois, you're going to have to clear this with the budget 
office," Perry put in, listening to the exchange from the 
sidelines and simply accepting the options Jimmy and Cat were 
putting forward.

"I'm not going on a story. I do have a personal life," Lois said, 
feeling a little incensed that thought hadn't even occurred to 
any of them. Maybe she was a workaholic, but that didn't mean she 
couldn't have fun, too. Still, none of them looked convinced. 
"All right," she finally said, "if you must know, I'm on my way 
to check into the Lexor Hotel for a weekend of pure relaxation."

"It's a prison break upstate, isn't it?" said Perry immediately, 
as if not at all fooled by her claim that she was planning to 
take the weekend off.

Exasperated, she reached into the front compartment of her 
overnight bag. "Do you want to see my reservation?" she asked, 
holding out the paper.

"Yes," Clark responded, grabbing it from her hand almost before 
she had the ability to let go.

"Honeymoon suite?" he asked, looking back at her, eyebrows 
raised.

She instantly felt annoyed. She'd forgotten the reservation told 
what room she'd be staying in. She was even more annoyed that 
Clark had not only spotted that but had also announced it for all 
the world to hear. "It was the only thing available," she 
muttered, snatching her reservation back from Clark.

"Lois Lane in the honeymoon suite?" scoffed Cat.

"Stranger things have happened," said Jimmy.

"Name one."

"Thank you all very much. I'm leaving now," said Lois, turning to 
pick up her overnight bag.

As if sensing her displeasure, Perry spoke. "Now, Lois, you've 
got to admit that the idea of you spending an entire weekend just 
relaxing is a bit... well... far fetched."

"Oh ye of little faith," Lois responded, grabbing her coat from 
the rack and heading for the elevators without as much as a 
backwards glance.

She didn't care what they thought. She really didn't. This 
weekend was going to be the first time off she'd had since that 
whole pheromone disaster - and she was going to treat herself, 
forget work, forget her colleagues, forget Cl... forget that man 
who was too good looking for her own peace of mind and just 
relax. After throwing herself at Clark for two whole days, and 
then learning that she was suffering from some kind of 'animal 
magnetism' towards her partner, she had realized she really 
didn't get out enough. And so tonight... that was exactly what 
she was going to do. She'd regain her balance and then be back at 
work once the weekend was over - her dangerous attraction to her 
partner firmly a thing of the past.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois got out of the cab in front of her apartment building. If 
she was going to relax for the weekend, she needed a good book. 
And she knew just the one. Why hadn't she thought to bring the 
book when she'd packed the previous evening? Taking a deep 
breath, she trudged up the stairs to her apartment and went 
inside.

She found the book quickly - the latest Stephen King fic. 
Mystery. Intrigue. Pure terror even. But no romance whatsoever. 
Perfect. Stuffing it in her overnight bag, she assured herself it 
was an emergency measure only. After all, she was a little 
concerned that it had been so long since she'd taken a weekend to 
relax that she wouldn't remember how to do it. And there was no 
way she was going to allow Clark, Perry, Cat and Jimmy to be 
right. She could take an entire weekend off. She would prove it.

On impulse, she changed out of her work clothes and slipped into 
her sweat suit. Maybe a good jog on the way to the hotel would 
help relax her - and it certainly would save her the cost of a 
taxi. Reaching into the front compartment of her overnight bag, 
she pulled out her reservation and stuck it in her pocket. Then 
she stuffed her purse into the bag, slung the bag over her 
shoulder and headed out of her apartment at a jog, only taking 
long enough to lock the door behind her.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois looked at the items in the gift basket provided by the 
hotel, finally deciding on a bag of chips. Making her way over to 
the bed, she pulled open the bag and took a seat before turning 
on the television. As she relaxed on the bed and ate a chip, she 
watched the screen. Some sort of old movie was playing. Normally, 
she really liked old movies, but this one just seemed... corny 
somehow. She rolled her eyes when the actress on the screen made 
an inane comment, obviously meant to impress the man. Please! Who 
wrote this drivel? When the two characters kissed, Lois looked 
everywhere but at the screen. This was not what she needed right 
now. After all, she was here to put thoughts of men... one man in 
particular... out of her mind. She changed channels, only to turn 
the television off in disgust when she spotted another couple 
kissing on the next channel.

Rising from the bed, she made her way towards the heart-shaped 
tub, slipping out of the white, cuddly bath robe provided by the 
hotel and allowing it to fall to the floor. She moaned in 
contentment as she sank into the warm water. Now this was 
relaxing! She closed her eyes and played absently with the 
bubbles, a smile making its way onto her lips. Who needed a man? 
This was as good as sex any day - better even.

The ringing phone caused her to open her eyes. Reaching for the 
noisy item located on the side of the tub, she picked it up.

"Yes?"

"Working hard?" came Clark's question on the other end of the 
line.

"No, Clark. I'm relaxing." She emphasized the final word as she 
closed her eyes again, refusing to be drawn out of her state of 
bliss. In truth, she'd been feeling bored. Not that she intended 
to tell him that, of course. And she couldn't say she was 
bothered by the interruption - even though her subconscious mind 
reminded her that the person on the other end of the line was the 
very person she was supposed to be forgetting about with this 
weekend of relaxation.

"Yeah, right," he replied. He sounded skeptical, but his tone 
held no malice. That was one of the things she liked most about 
Clark. He might tease her, but he was never mean. "How is the 
view?" he asked without waiting for her response.

The view! It suddenly occurred to Lois that she had not yet 
looked at the view. Of course, he didn't need to know that. "It's 
wonderful," she said, turning to find a window she could see 
through. "It's... It's..." Her voice trailed off when she noticed 
the lights come on in a luxurious suite across the way and a 
number of beautiful, provocatively dressed young women and older 
men in expensive business suits walk in. She thought she 
recognized one of the men. "I don't believe it," she muttered to 
herself.

"You don't believe what?" Clark asked. She ignored him. "Lois?" 

"Where are those?" she mumbled, searching frantically through her 
purse which was lying to the side of the oversized tub while at 
the same time trying to keep the phone at her ear. The task was 
not easy, but soon she had what she was looking for - a small 
pair of binoculars. "Yes!" She removed the item and turned back 
towards the window, nearly dumping the phone into the water in 
her effort to get a better look. "Yes, it's wonderful. It's..."

"Lois? Are you okay?"

 "Congressman Harrington?" she asked in disbelief when her 
suspicion about whom she had seen in the neighboring suite was 
confirmed. "Yes... yes... I'm..." She turned back towards her 
purse. She needed her camera.

"How's the bed?" asked Clark, obviously unable to understand her 
previous comments.

"The bed?" she asked, reaching into her purse and withdrawing her 
camera. "The bed is just great, Clark. It's... uh..." Finally 
trying to hold the phone to her ear and take pictures was too 
much for her. "I'm in the Jacuzzi, Clark. Could you hold on a 
second?" Without waiting for a reply, she set the phone on the 
side of the tub and began snapping pictures. When she finally had 
what she needed, she again retrieved the phone. She had been able 
to hear Clark calling her name since she'd put the phone down. 
She placed it back at her ear. "Yes, Clark, yes."

"Lois, is the TV on because..."

"What? No. I mean, yes. The TV. Yes. The TV. It's on." She 
managed to snap off a couple more pictures. 

"Have a good night's sleep." She could hear the confusion in 
Clark's voice.

"Uh... I will."

Then his voice lightened. "Lois, I didn't think you had it in 
you."

"What?"

"Well, the ability to take an entire weekend off." He hesitated. 
"I... Congratulations."

"Clark, I got to go now. I've got to get back to relaxing."

She was so distracted by the events taking place in the suite 
across the way, she dropped the phone in the water. With a small 
screech, she began searching for the phone. She didn't dare 
imagine what Clark was thinking on the other end of the line. 
Hopefully he had already hung up. Not wanting to try to explain 
to him what had happened, when she finally found the phone, she 
hung it up without another word.

She quickly dismissed her concerns that Clark might think she was 
a total idiot, turning her attention back to the suite. Some sort 
of party was obviously going on over there. The women looked like 
high-priced call-girls and the men... well, one of them was a man 
holding public office, so who were the others? A couple of the 
men looked familiar, but at the moment she couldn't put names to 
the faces.

Normally, Lois wasn't interested in sex scandals, but since this 
one appeared to be playing itself out right in front of her... 
Besides, if memory served her correctly, the congressmen who had 
come to Metropolis for the Congressional Inquiry starting on 
Monday were staying in an apartment complex in this area of town. 
Was it possible that they were in the building across from her? 
The very one she was staring into right now?

She watched as Harrington reached for one of the women, pulling 
her onto his lap. Lois let out a breath of righteous indignation. 
She'd met that man's wife, for crying out loud! And here he was, 
giving the whole city a view of... It suddenly occurred to Lois 
that if she could see clearly into their suite, they could 
probably see into hers.

She set down the camera on the side of the tub before making her 
way to the far side, being careful to maintain her cover of 
bubbles. Reaching as far as she could, she was able to grab her 
robe. Glancing over her shoulder to ensure that no one from the 
other suite was looking in her direction, she rose, quickly 
wrapped the robe around her and dashed for the light switch, 
bathing the room in darkness.

She made her way back to the window, pulling the curtains until 
only a crack was left open for her to see out. She cringed in 
disgust as she watched the obvious sex party. She raised her 
camera and took pictures of a few of the other men - just in case 
it turned out to be important. And then she made her way to the 
bed. There was no story there - at least not one she wanted to 
write. Letting out a sigh, she crawled into bed, falling asleep 
quickly.

She slept for... she wasn't entirely sure what the time was when 
she jerked awake in a strange room, in an unfamiliar bed. It took 
a moment for her to figure out where she was. When she did, the 
memories of what she'd witnessed before going to sleep came 
flooding back. She turned over, trying to fall back to sleep. But 
this time she couldn't sleep. Her mind kept coming back to one 
subject - that men were pigs. Harrington had a beautiful and 
well-educated wife at home. The woman had sacrificed her career 
as a doctor in order to stand by her husband's side, promoting 
him at one political rally after another. She made speeches and 
spoke pleasantly to people she probably couldn't stand - all in 
order to further her husband's ambitions. And how did he repay 
her? Lois shook her head.

She wasn't sure why anything a man did surprised her anymore. All 
she needed to do was to look at her own father to know that men 
were pigs. Not that she should be too hard on them. Maybe they 
were biologically incapable of fidelity. She gave a small snort 
and rolled over in bed. That was why it was best to stay away 
from men in the first place - particularly any man one had to 
work with following his infidelity. She'd learned that with 
Claude after all. Not that Claude had cheated on her, of course. 
He'd simply dated her until she'd finally given him what he was 
after - her story and her body. The problem was that he'd also 
taken the one thing he apparently hadn't wanted: her heart. Then 
he'd been on his way. That was why this weekend was so important. 
She had to get a grip on her dangerous and potentially disastrous 
attraction to Clark.

She pushed back the covers and rose from the bed. Slipping into 
her robe, she began wandering around the darkened room. She knew 
intellectually that she couldn't get involved with Clark. Still, 
after last week, she had to admit, even if only to herself, that 
there was... something there, at least on her part. It was 
possible Clark didn't feel the same way. After all, he'd also 
been sprayed with the compound and he hadn't fallen for her. She 
wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if she hadn't noticed the way he 
would often look at her - and unless she was way off on reading 
men's looks, he was definitely interested. She sighed.

What troubled her almost as much as her idiotic attraction to 
Clark was that while under the influence of the pheromone 
compound, she'd barely noticed Lex. Yet Lex was the one she was 
dating - at least when they both had the time. Since the 
incident, she'd been forced to concede that while Lex was the 
type of man she knew she should be attracted to, Clark was the 
one she was attracted to - a guy too good looking to be anything 
but a scoundrel where women were concerned. Obviously, she was 
still attracted to the wrong kind of guy.

Not that Clark had acted like the typical scoundrel - at least as 
far as she was concerned. Still, Lois could certainly remember 
his brief tryst with Cat. She crinkled her eyebrows. She 
remembered that incident almost too clearly. She could remember 
the pain she'd felt when Cat smirked at her the next morning. She 
remembered how she'd seen Clark and Jimmy whispering together, 
only to have Jimmy rise and say, 'great piece of journalism 
there, C.K.' before walking away when she approached. She knew at 
that moment that Clark had given Jimmy all the intimate details 
of his night with Cat. 

Clark had denied sleeping with Cat, but that was to be expected. 
He was smart enough to know not to brag about his conquests with 
one woman to another - especially to one he still had hopes of 
taking to bed. It surprised her to realize how much that entire 
incident still bothered her. Had she been attracted to Clark even 
then? She pushed the question to the back of her mind as 
irrelevant. The question was what to do about her attraction to 
Clark now - not when this attraction had first begun.

Of course, there was more to Clark than just being a lady's man - 
way more. That was the problem. He was smart and funny. He never 
slowed her down when they were working on a story. In fact, he 
challenged her to try harder, to be the best that she could be. 
He was supportive and endured her mood swings. Not to mention 
having a killer body.

"No! No! No! No!" She was definitely not going to go there. 
Whatever she did she was not going to think about that body or 
the time she'd seen Clark in nothing more than a towel.

Clark in a towel. She would swear that image was tattooed on the 
insides of her eyelids. She saw it practically every time she 
closed her eyes these days. It plagued her when she couldn't 
sleep at night. It came to her in her dreams. Only in her dreams, 
she would reach out and give the towel a quick tug and then watch 
as it dropped to the floor revealing... She gave her head a quick 
shake, scattering the image. She had checked into this 
extravagant room for the weekend to forget about Clark - and that 
wasn't going to happen if she kept thinking about that body.

She was almost relieved when, in her peripheral vision, Lois 
caught sight of the suite where the 'party' had been going on 
earlier. She made her way to the window. The party appeared to be 
mostly over now. She could still see Congressman Harrington, his 
shirt open, his hair tousled, and... a woman was standing 
slightly behind him wrapped in a sheet. In front of the 
congressman stood two men. One was short and stocky, had grey 
hair and was obviously exchanging heated words with the 
congressman. Lois was suddenly extremely curious about what was 
happening. The man beside the short one was much younger. He 
looked to Lois like a typical punk - young, solid, much like a 
brick wall, with an ugly scar running down his cheek. She 
suspected his body, unlike the one she had been thinking about 
previously, was covered with tattoos - one of which, unless she 
very much missed her guess, was undoubtedly of a naked woman.

Lois flinched when the grey-haired man pulled a gun from inside 
his jacket. She saw Harrington and the woman back up until the 
woman was out of sight. Lois was changing positions, attempting 
to see where the woman had gone, when she saw Harrington's head 
snap around, apparently looking at the woman himself, before 
turning back to the man with the gun, fear clearly written on his 
face. Had the man fired at the woman? Lois wasn't entirely sure. 
She hadn't heard a thing. Of course, given the fact that she was 
in a different building, she really wouldn't have expected to 
hear it.

Lois knew she needed to do something, but for a moment nothing 
came to mind. So with her mouth open, she stood staring as the 
two men, obviously having convinced Harrington to accompany them, 
left the suite. And then the room across from her went dark.

Lois pulled in a breath when she suddenly realized that she 
hadn't been breathing. Had what she thought transpired in that 
room actually happened? She didn't know. She supposed she could 
call the police. Except that she really didn't know if anything 
had happened. In fact, she probably didn't know enough to allow 
the police to get as much as a search warrant. After all, she 
didn't know that anything had happened to the woman. Maybe she 
had simply gone to bed. And, in spite of pulling a gun earlier, 
the man with the gun had put it away before Harrington left with 
them under his own power. No. She had to find out for sure.

In her haste to act, Lois tripped slightly, feeling her foot kick 
against something. She heard a splash and realized she had 
managed to kick something into the tub which she hadn't emptied 
after last night's bath. But she didn't pay it more than a 
passing thought as she threw on her sweat suit, put her hair up 
under a wool cap and attached the money belt she used while 
jogging around her waist. In the money belt, she stuck a small 
amount of cash, her room key, her lock picking equipment, a small 
flashlight and her press pass before heading out of the room. She 
had to hurry. If the woman had been shot, she might still be 
alive. And if that was the case, she would need help immediately. 

Lois pushed the button to the elevator and waited impatiently for 
only a matter of seconds before heading towards the stairs.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois checked to be sure the hallway was empty before turning her 
attention to the door which she guessed led to the suite across 
from hers. Taking a deep breath, she knocked. When there was no 
answer, she bent down in front of the door and, removing her lock 
picking equipment from her money belt, turned her attention to 
the door. 

She was relieved when the telltale click told her the lock had 
surrendered to her ministrations. She quickly opened the door and 
stepped inside. As expected, the lights were off. She withdrew 
the flashlight from her pouch, turned it on and glanced around 
the room. It didn't take her long to realize she was in the wrong 
room. She took a look out the window and found her room. From its 
location, she estimated that she needed to be in the suite next 
door.

She turned off the flashlight and headed for the door, hoping 
that if there was someone asleep in this suite, she could escape 
before he or she woke up. She had just opened the door when she 
heard someone coming down the hall. She closed the door until it 
was only open a crack and listened, hoping whoever was outside 
would pass by quickly so she could slip out. What she would do if 
they were coming into the room where she was currently hiding, 
she had no idea.

"So what do you want done with the body?" a man's deep voice 
growled.

Lois pulled the door a little further open - it was amazing how 
soundproof these suites seemed to be - before putting her ear 
closer to the crack as she strained to hear the response.

"Bury it. But be careful not to disturb the DNA. Harrington knows 
that if the police find her body, he'll be the number one 
suspect. After all, he was seen with her earlier. Then when they 
find his DNA... Well, let's just say that he really doesn't want 
that to happen. And as long as we can lead the police to her 
body, he'll do whatever we say."

"But can't he just tell the cops that you shot her?"

"He could. But killing her isn't his only problem. If the voting 
public finds out about him cheating on his wife with a high-class 
call girl, not to mention her being killed immediately after 
sleeping with him, he doesn't stand a chance of being reelected - 
not to mention ending his dream of taking a run at the White 
House one day. After all, what is it they say? There are only two 
things that can kill you in politics: being caught with a live 
boy or a dead girl."

The voices disappeared when a door opened into the suite next to 
the one in which Lois was currently hiding. She waited until she 
heard the door close before stepping into the hall. She came to 
an abrupt halt when she found herself standing face to face with 
the grey-haired man she'd seen with Harrington earlier. Behind 
him was the muscle man who had been with him earlier.

"I thought that door was open," the older of the two said, his 
voice anything but friendly. "So tell me, my dear, just how much 
of our conversation did you hear?"

"Excuse me?" Lois asked in response, trying for all the world to 
look as if she was just coming out of her suite to go for a jog 
and was a little annoyed about being confronted by a couple of 
strangers in the hall.

The older man's dark grey eyes flashed dangerously as he moved 
closer to her. "Don't play coy with me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Now if you don't 
mind..." She attempted to push her way past the man she instantly 
nicknamed, 'Grey Eyes.'

"Oh, I think not," he replied, grabbing her arm.

"Hey, what do you think..." Her voice died when, with his free 
hand, he removed a gun from under his jacket and stuck it in her 
ribs.

"You won't make a sound, my dear. And you'll just come with me if 
you know what's good for you."

She allowed fear to show in her eyes and relaxed her muscles, 
trying to look as defeated as possible. When he began to tug her 
towards the suite next door, she didn't put up any resistance. 
Then, as suddenly as a cat pouncing on a mouse, she spun, 
dislodging both the gun and his hand, kneed him in the groin and 
took off at full speed towards the stairs, hoping that he 
wouldn't want to risk having a gunshot heard in the halls.

"Get her!" Grey Eyes snarled at his minion while he himself took 
a moment to recover from her well-placed attack.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois' lungs burned and her muscles ached as she crouched behind a 
large garbage bin in an alley outside the apartment building. She 
had to make a conscious effort to keep her breathing under 
control, trying not to let her body's need to catch its breath 
give away her position. It briefly occurred to her to call for 
Superman, but she dared not, lest she reveal her position only to 
discover that he was on the other side of the world battling a 
volcano or some other such nonsense. Didn't he know that he was 
supposed to hang out in Metropolis just in case she found herself 
hiding behind a dumpster in a dark alley trying to avoid 
detection by the most persistent goon she had encountered in a 
long time?

She was only one building away from the Lexor. As soon as she 
caught her breath, she'd make a dash for it. If she was able to 
get inside, there would be people there - employees anyway. She 
doubted the goons following her would try anything in front of 
other people. And without leaving the lobby, she'd call Clark - 
oh, and maybe the police, too. She'd heard them talking about a 
murder - that should be enough for the police to get a warrant 
for the suite where the murder had taken place.

Satisfied with her plan, she listened for footsteps. Maybe she 
had finally given the man she'd dubbed 'Muscle Head' the slip. 
Sticking her head carefully around the dumpster, she took a look 
around. When she couldn't see anyone, she rose silently to her 
feet.

"Going somewhere?"

Lois froze when she felt the barrel of a gun in her back. She 
slowly raised her hands, her mind moving quickly as she sought to 
figure out her next move.

"Sup..."

A hand clasped over her mouth instantly silenced her attempt to 
yell for her hero.

"Oh, I don't think you wanna do that," said Muscle Head. "'Cause 
you yell for him, I'm going to have ta get out of here fast. And 
to do that, I gotta pull this trigger. Not even Superman can get 
here before this bullet is buried in your gut."

Lois instantly stilled. He was right. The barrel of the gun was 
jammed against her. Unless Superman was a few feet away, he 
wouldn't be able to get there in time.

"Okay, now that we have an understanding, I'm gonna take my hand 
off your mouth." He waited a moment, as if giving time for his 
warning to sink in. "Good," he said, as his hand cautiously left 
her mouth. "Now, turn around, very slowly - and keep your hands 
where I can see 'em."

Lois did as instructed. She would have to wait for the right 
moment. It would come - after all, it always did. And then she'd 
be out of there.

"You've got her."

Lois looked in the direction of the voice to observe the older 
man approaching. She fought back a smirk when she noticed he was 
limping slightly.

"Ya," Muscle Head responded, being sure to keep the gun against 
Lois. "She's a sneaky little devil, though - tried to yell for 
Superman."

"As long as you made her understand exactly what a deadly thing 
that would be for her to do," the man said, his eyes flashing 
with pure hatred. 

"I think she got the picture."

"Good," Grey Eyes said. "So why don't we get acquainted?"

"Good idea," Lois responded. "Why don't you start?"

Lois was stunned when the man backhanded her across the face.

"Search her," he commanded the younger man while withdrawing his 
own gun.

Lois automatically began struggling against the rough hands of 
her captor, protecting more vulnerable body parts from his 
probing. 

"Hey, I got somethin'," the younger man said. Tearing her money 
belt from around her waist, he handed it to the older man.

Grey Eyes stepped back slightly where there was more light and as 
her captor put the barrel of the gun back against Lois' side, 
Grey Eyes opened the pouch. "A key to a room at the Lexor," he 
said, removing the first item. "Lock picking equipment?" he 
added, his eyebrows going up as he looked back at Lois.

Lois knew the gig was up even before he withdrew her press pass. 
She glanced briefly at the man holding her. Noticing he was 
watching Grey Eyes, she used her best tae kwon do move to knock 
the gun out of his hand. As she heard the gun hit the pavement, 
she gave him her best kick and took off at a run before he could 
recover. 

"She's a reporter! Stop her!"

Lois didn't look back. She ran as fast as possible towards the 
street. She could hear the sound of feet behind her as she ran 
onto Water Street, which ran along the bank of the West River. It 
was better lit than the alley, making it easier for her to see. 
It also, unfortunately, made her an easier target for the two men 
with guns following her.

Which came first, she didn't know: the sharp pain in the back of 
her leg or the sound of a gun being fired. She stumbled slightly, 
searching desperately for something to grab onto to keep herself 
from collapsing. Her leg betrayed her, crumpling beneath her. She 
reached out to grab onto the cast-iron railing that ran along the 
edge of the water, trying to pull herself back to her feet. Just 
a few more steps and she'd be at the front doors of the Lexor. 
She couldn't give up now. 

As she regained her footing, her free hand went to her leg, 
touching it briefly. She glanced down at her hand, seeing the 
sticky red substance which confirmed what she already knew - that 
she had been shot. The bullet must have gone straight through 
her. She'd never realized just how much getting shot would hurt.

She continued to pull herself along the railing. Just a little 
further and she'd be at the doors of the Lexor. Once inside, 
she'd dive behind one of the oversized sofas in the lobby and 
allow herself to collapse - not before. Calling on every ounce of 
strength she still possessed, she continued pushing forward. The 
footsteps behind her slowed, telling her that they had caught up 
to her.

Having no choice, she turned to face her attackers. Maybe she 
could still find a way to stall until another chance to escape 
presented itself. As she turned, her eyes first landed on the gun 
no more than a foot away from her chest. She felt as if she were 
in a dream as her eyes followed the trail upwards from gun to 
hand to arm to shoulder before meeting the grey eyes of the man 
before her. And in that instant something passed between them, 
some unspoken understanding of murderer and victim.

"Sup..."

Bang.

She felt a sharp pain in her chest. Her hand came off the railing 
and she lost her balance, tumbling over the railing and plunging 
into the river.

"Sup..."

Her yell was cut off by water entering her lungs, causing her to 
gag. She tried to swim, but as if Poseidon himself reached up 
from below the surface of the dirty water, she felt a tug on her 
legs, pulling her down. She fought him, but the surface seemed to 
get further away. Still, there was hope. All she needed was get 
to the surface and yell for Superman. He would not let her die.

With fresh resolve, she struggled even harder against the forces 
conspiring against her. She held her breath, knowing that she had 
to reach the surface before relieving the burning in her lungs as 
her body cried out for oxygen. It was so cold. The pain in her 
chest and leg was unbearable. Still she fought against her 
injuries and the unforgiving power of Poseidon. She refused to 
let him defeat her. Yet it felt as if lead were attached to her 
feet. She kicked against her runners, but they remained firmly on 
her feet.

Which way was up? She was no longer sure. She forced a small 
amount of gas from her lungs but in the dark couldn't see the 
bubbles well enough to know which way they were going. She was so 
cold. Suddenly, the need to breathe overwhelmed her and she 
involuntarily sucked water into her lungs. The pain was 
extraordinary. And then everything was all right. She no longer 
felt cold. She no longer felt anything, except an unexpected 
sense of euphoria as Poseidon claimed her.

* * * * * * * * *
SATURDAY
* * * * * * * * *

Clark bounded down the ramp into the newsroom. In spite of the 
overcast weather, he was in a good mood. Maybe it had been the 
good sleep he'd enjoyed the previous night. Maybe it had been the 
brief phone conversation he'd had with Lois. Of course, the 
conversation had been a little... odd. Still, it was good hearing 
her so obviously enjoying herself. It was a side of Lois he 
hadn't seen before - and he felt as if he knew her just a little 
bit better as a result.

Too bad she had the entire weekend off. He would have liked to 
see her today. A small smile creased his lips as an idea suddenly 
occurred to him. Maybe near the end of the day, he'd give her a 
call and see if she'd like to grab some supper with him. He was 
sure he could make it sound casual - not date-like at all, just 
friends. After all, he knew that anything that even hinted of a 
date would frighten her off. But friends... he thought he might 
just be able to pull that off. And seeing Lois while she was 
relaxing... after last night's phone call, he was completely 
intrigued with the possibility.

He wasn't sure where this new found courage came from. Up until 
now, he'd been too afraid of losing Lois' friendship to ask her 
out, even as a friend - as if she would see it as a violation of 
some sort of unspoken agreement between them. Maybe the change 
was a result of Lois' reaction to him while under the influence 
of the pheromone compound. On some level, even if she didn't 
recognize it herself, she was as attracted to him as he was to 
her. That thought in itself gave him hope that if he took things 
very, very slowly, worked at establishing a solid friendship with 
her, maybe in time she would come to see him as something more 
than just her friend or work partner.

"Clark! My office - now!"

Clark immediately changed direction, heading towards his boss' 
office. "What's up, chief?"

"Shots fired. A report came in over the scanner last night." 
Perry handed Clark a piece of paper. 

"Do we know if anyone was hurt?"

Perry shook his head.

"Then what makes you think there's even a story there?"

"This shooting took place in one of the better sections of town. 
Lots of rich penthouses. Lots of rich tourists. It's bound to get 
media attention. I don't want the Planet to miss out."

"Where is it?"

"On Water Street."

Clark crinkled his brows. "Isn't that the street that runs past 
the Lexor?"

"I think so."

"Well, chief, don't you think Lois is all over this by now?"

"Right," said Perry thoughtfully. "She was staying at the Lexor 
this weekend, wasn't she."

"Well, why don't we wait to see what she finds out - then we can 
decide if there's a story there."

"Clark, it's Lois' weekend off. We can't count on the fact that 
she might be there to cover it."

Clark let out a breath. In some areas of the city, shots being 
fired was just another horrible fact of life. Part of him 
resented being sent on this assignment while other areas of the 
city where shots had been fired wouldn't receive any press 
coverage - areas which were in desperate need of media attention 
and the potential changes which might result from such coverage.

"Why don't you send Ralph?" Clark said, attempting to hand the 
paper back to Perry.

"I decide on assignments, Kent," Perry growled.

"I know that, Perry. But this..." He held up the paper. "Well, it 
just doesn't seem to me as if there's a story there. And I have a 
lot of things I want to get finished up today."

Perry eyed him suspiciously.

"I told Lois I'd try to get the follow up story on Miranda 
today," Clark continued. "You know, the woman who tried to spray 
all of Metropolis with her pheromone compound. Anyway, yesterday 
we got a call from the Assistant District Attorney - some new 
woman named Mayson Drake. I had a call into the D.A.'s office, 
hoping to find out what Miranda was being charged with and 
whether they knew if Miranda was planning to plead guilty, and 
Ms. Drake called back yesterday. She didn't have time to meet 
with us then, but she suggested I stop by today."

Perry nodded slowly. "You're probably right. This shooting 
incident probably isn't going very far anyway. And I guess that's 
what we have Ralph for."

Clark smiled, thankful that Perry wasn't going to make him cover 
what was obviously a loser story. "Thanks, Perry."

* * * * * * * * *

Ralph crawled out of the cab, tossing some money at the cabby as 
he headed without a backward glance towards the group of people 
congregating around the police barrier.

"Jerk!" 

Ralph ignored the yell of the cabby. Those guys were always 
wanting a tip. Well, if they wanted a tip, they should learn to 
drive. Daily Planet expenses only paid for the cab - not the tip. 
And as long as that was the case, they shouldn't expect extra 
money from him just because they got him to his destination in 
one piece. A tip was meant to be a reward for extraordinary 
service - not a routine addition to someone's wages.

Ralph was already feeling annoyed. He'd wasted a trip going to 
the police station - figuring the investigating officers would 
have returned to the station already - only to be told when he 
arrived that everyone was still on Water Street. The least Perry 
could have done when assigning him this story was to inform him 
of that fact.

"Move aside. Move aside. Reporter coming through," Ralph said, 
pushing his way past a number of incensed citizens to get to his 
destination. He stopped at the police barricade and took a look 
at the scene. He couldn't see a dead body - or a coroner's van. 
Damn. Without a dead body, this wasn't going to be much of a 
story. Now a dozen or so bodies... Lane would be so jealous if he 
got a story like that. He could just see it now - 'and the winner 
of this year's Kerth for best journalistic reporting is...' Lane 
and Kent would be sitting on the edge of their seats. '...Ralph 
Summers.'

He sighed. Since he didn't see any dead bodies, he guessed this 
wasn't the story destined to win him that Kerth. Maybe he'd have 
better luck next time.

Pushing his daydream to the back of his mind, he directed his 
attention to getting the story. After all, the sooner he could 
get this stupid story written up, the sooner he could give White 
the slip and sneak out to enjoy the rest of his weekend.

He noticed a moderately attractive female police officer on the 
other side of the barrier. He took a moment to straighten his 
tie. 

"Hey, babe," he called.

She glanced at him, giving him a quick once over before turning 
away. He smiled. She'd obviously noticed him. "I'm with the Daily 
Planet. You wanta see your name in print?"

She turned back towards him, her expression unreadable, before 
making her way over to where Ralph was standing. "You're with the 
Daily Planet?"

"Yeah," he said, running his eyes down her body in appreciation. 
"I need some information for my story. How about you and I go get 
a drink and discuss it?"

"You want information, go talk to our official media person." She 
gestured towards a man surrounded by reporters a few feet away, 
obviously answering questions, before turning around and walking 
away.

"Dike," Ralph muttered before making his way over to hear the end 
of the press conference. He took one of the press releases and 
read through it.

Apparently, a few people had called 9-1-1 the previous night in 
relation to some gunshots. The general consensus was that there 
were two shots. They had not found any victims. They also did not 
know who had fired the gun. No one had reported any intrusions 
into their homes and the police wanted to assure people that this 
was still the safest district in the city - and to assure 
visitors to the great city of Metropolis that they were in no 
danger.

Ralph looked back at the theoretical crime scene and rolled his 
eyes. He figured he had about all he was going to get. He turned 
around and noticed the same cab he'd just gotten out of was about 
to drive off.

"Hold that cab!" he yelled, rushing towards the cab. He swore 
when the cabby, after having glanced over at him, squealed his 
tires, leaving Ralph staring at his taillights. "Now that would 
be a useful story," muttered Ralph to himself. "Maybe a story 
about the ignorance of Metropolis cabbies is something that would 
shake things up. Maybe I'll mention that to Perry." Having ended 
his monologue, he glared at a person nearby who was staring at 
him as if he had lost his mind.

* * * * * * * * *

Perry was surprised when a beep on his computer informed him that 
Ralph had just sent him the story on the Water Street shooting. 
He read through the story, making a number of editorial changes. 
It appeared Clark was right. No victim. A couple of gunshots. No 
real crime. It was just as well he hadn't wasted Clark's talents 
by sending him down to check out the situation.

He was just about to send the story to printing - a few inches to 
bury well inside the paper - when he stopped. When Ralph had 
first arrived back at the Planet, he'd mentioned that the police 
had a section of the street cordoned off. Now... if there was no 
victim, why had they done that? It made no sense unless...

Perry rose from his chair and made his way to the door to his 
office. "Ralph!" he called into the newsroom. Everyone turned and 
looked - everyone that was, except Ralph. Ralph was nowhere 
insight. "Damn that boy," Perry muttered. There was something 
going on down on Water Street - he could feel the familiar 
feeling brewing in his gut telling him a story was there. He just 
needed... "Clark!"

* * * * * * * * *

Clark was amazed by the number of cops on Water Street when he 
arrived. Given what Perry had told him, he'd expected to see a 
section of the street cordoned off. But why were at least a dozen 
cops milling around? Perry was right. There was a story there. A 
few gunshots being fired wouldn't normally get such a large 
police turnout. He spotted Inspector Henderson in the crowd. The 
attendance of someone of Henderson's rank was even more 
startling. Oh no. There was a much larger story there than the 
one Ralph had written. 

Since Clark had already spoken to Mayson Drake and obtained the 
information he needed to wrap up the pheromone story, he 
certainly had time to follow up on this. Mayson, as she had 
insisted on being called, had been very pleasant - not at all the 
stuffy lawyer type Clark had come to expect from the D.A.'s 
office. It was a nice change. He suspected she and Lois would 
really like each other.

He glanced at the building on his right and all thoughts of 
Mayson instantly left his mind. The Lexor - where Lois was 
staying. Once he had obtained the information he needed for this 
story, maybe he would go in and check to see if Lois would like 
to go for supper with him tonight.

In fact... he glanced around again, surprised when he didn't see 
Lois already prowling around. If she looked out of the building 
and saw this, no day off would keep her away from finding out 
what was going on. She had the most overdeveloped sense of 
curiosity of anyone Clark had ever known. On the other hand, it 
was late morning. He wasn't sure whether Lois was naturally a 
morning person or a night person. And since it was her weekend 
off, it was entirely possible that she was still tucked in the 
big bed in the honeymoon suite. At least he assumed the honeymoon 
suite had a big bed. He shook his head. It was not a good idea to 
let his mind head in that direction.

Clark spotted Bill Henderson slipping under the police barrier 
and heading towards a couple standing nearby. Clark left the 
crowd and approached the officer, hoping to get a word with 
Henderson before he went back to the crime scene. 

Still, unlike Lois' 'bull in a china shop' style, Clark kept his 
distance, allowing Henderson to question the couple while he 
waited for his chance to talk to the officer. Still, that didn't 
stop him from listening in on Henderson's conversation as he 
patiently waited for his moment to approach the inspector.

"I understand you're one of the people who called 9-1-1," 
Henderson said, pulling out his notebook and pen.

"My husband was," the woman standing next to an older man 
responded. "We both heard the shots."

"What time was this?"

The woman looked at her husband. "About two?"

"Closer to two fifteen," the man responded. "We had been out for 
the evening. We had just parked our car in underground parking 
and gotten out when we heard a man yell something. Do you 
remember what he yelled, honey?"

"It was muffled. But it was something like... I didn't catch most 
of it. But at one point it almost sounded like he said, 'Report 
her.' I looked at Jeff, but before I could ask him what he 
thought was going on we heard the first shot."

"What happened then?" asked Henderson.

"Well, we weren't about to hang around to find out how many 
gunshots were fired," said the woman defensively, as if expecting 
Henderson to judge them for not running into the middle of a gun 
fight. "So we headed as fast as possible for the building."

"That was when we heard a second shot," the man added. "We called 
9-1-1 as soon as we were safely inside."

Henderson nodded as he looked around. "Did you see anything or 
anyone when you were driving into the parking garage?"

"No," the man answered before looking at his wife. She briefly 
met his eyes before shaking her head as well.

Clark cocked his head to the side, not entirely sure he believed 
their last response.

"Are you sure? You didn't see anything?" Henderson asked. 

By the tone of Henderson's question, Clark realized the inspector 
was also having problems believing the couple's last answer.

"Well..." the woman said. Once again, husband and wife shared a 
look before the wife seemed to make a decision. "We didn't see 
anything when we were driving into the garage. But when we were 
heading for the doors to the building, I glanced back, through 
the entrance to the garage."

"And?" asked Henderson.

"I thought I might have seen someone fall into the water."

"Did you get a look at him?"

The woman shook her head. "Not really. He might have been wearing 
a sweat suit and a wool cap. But it was dark. I couldn't even 
tell you the color of his sweat suit."

Henderson nodded, completed his notes and then turned to head 
back to the crime scene.

"Inspector Henderson," Clark called, finally jogging forward. 
Henderson glanced back at him.

"Kent," Henderson said in acknowledgment before looking around. 
"So where's that partner of yours?"

"She's off for the weekend."

"Lucky you."

Clark smiled. "Do I take by your question that she hasn't been by 
pestering you today?"

"You take it correctly." 

"So what can you tell me, Bill?" asked Clark, nodding his head 
towards the area where the police appeared to be collecting 
evidence.

"We got three 9-1-1 calls early this morning. All of them saying 
approximately the same thing. Shots fired. Two said they thought 
they saw someone fall into the river. One claimed they saw 
someone shoot the person before they fell. So..." He gestured 
Clark to follow him as he headed under the yellow rope holding 
spectators away from the area. "...we came down here and this is 
what we found." He walked over to the cast-iron railing that ran 
along the river bank. The drop over the railing was steep into 
the dark water below. Clark took a look over the side, briefly 
pitying anyone who fell over that rail.

Redirecting his attention to what Henderson had obviously brought 
him over to see, Clark noticed bloody hand prints on several 
places along the railing. And drops of blood could clearly be 
spotted on the sidewalk for a space of about ten feet on one side 
of the hand prints and then following the prints, ending in a 
larger amount of blood on the sidewalk next to the final hand 
print. In the final pool of dried blood was a partial shoe print.

"Looks like a running shoe," said Clark.

"A small one. Yeah. Right now we're thinking the victim may have 
been a teenager. Too small for a man's anyway."

"Have you found a body?"

Henderson shook his head. "Not yet. Although given the current, a 
body that went in here could be found a long ways down river. Or 
it could have snagged on something on the bottom. Or even been 
victim to one of the boats that regularly use this river."

"Or the kid could have survived. Has anyone checked hospitals for 
a gunshot victim?"

"Not yet. But we're just getting started."

"Any word on who the shooter might be?"

Henderson shook his head. "But the mayor is afraid a mugging so 
close to so many expensive hotels might have a negative effect on 
tourism. And so..." He gestured to all the police officers.

"Are you sure this was just a random mugging or could it have 
been... something else?" Clark asked.

"Like what?" asked Henderson, obviously wondering if Clark was 
getting at something.

"I don't know. Like..." He glanced around, wondering what else 
might be going on. He spotted the building next to the Lexor. He 
looked at the address on the building and suddenly was searching 
his memory to figure out why that address seemed to ring a bell 
for him. Suddenly it hit him. "Like political complications."

Henderson raised his eyebrows. "Political complications?"

"There is a Congressional Inquiry about to start here in 
Metropolis. A lot of the head honchoes are apparently renting 
suites in this apartment building." He pointed to the apartment 
building next to the Lexor. "Not to mention staff and other 
workers."

Henderson's eyebrows shot up. "The Congressional Inquiry into 
organized crime?" He waited for Clark to nod before continuing. 
"Well, that is something worth looking into."

"Inspector, I think you should hear this," said a police officer 
a number of feet away.

Both Clark and Bill turned towards the officer who was standing 
next to a young man in his late teens. Two older people, 
seemingly his parents, stood nearby.

"Excuse me," said Henderson, leaving Clark to head towards the 
officer.

Clark let Henderson go alone, but using his special hearing 
abilities he listened to the conversation.

"This young man was on his way back to the hotel shortly after 
two when he saw something I think you should know about."

"What's your name?" Henderson asked.

"Stan Young."

"Okay, Mr. Young. What did you see?" Henderson asked.

"I went to the Pearl Jam concert last night with some friends 
from the city. It was really rocking. Anyway, it was late when I 
got back. I was just getting out of a cab when I saw two men 
leaning over the railing over there." He pointed towards the 
railing where the bloody hand print had been found. "They seemed 
to be looking for something. But I didn't think anything of it. 
One of them was short with grey hair. The other was younger. A 
big guy in a black leather jacket."

"Do you think you'd recognize them if you saw them again?"

Young hesitated. "I don't know. It was pretty dark."

Henderson nodded. "Would you be willing to take a look at some 
mug-shots, maybe work with our sketch artist?"

"Yeah, cool," Young responded, as if thrilled to be involved in a 
police investigation.

"Inspector," said another voice, directing both Henderson and 
Clark's attention to a police officer standing near the railing.

Henderson quickly directed the young man to whom he'd been 
speaking to another officer - one who would take him downtown to 
review mug shots and, if necessary, talk to their sketch artist. 
Then he made his way over to the officer who had just called him. 
Clark followed behind.

"I just found this."

Henderson bent down to take a look at the wooden post at the end 
of the railing. He studied a small hole he could see there. "Take 
some pictures and then see if there's a bullet in there."

Clark lowered his glasses down his nose and peered over top of 
them, confirming the existence of a bullet, before looking around 
to see if he could spot anything else that might shed light on 
this mystery. A small tool of some sort was half buried in the 
dirt on the far side of the railing. Clark moved closer to take a 
look. It appeared to be one of the tools from a lock picking kit 
- almost like one that Lois... Suddenly, Clark got a sinking 
feeling in his stomach as everything he'd learned so far began to 
fall into a disturbing pattern. No. That was crazy. It couldn't 
be. He glanced towards the hotel.

"Did you find something?" asked Henderson, approaching Clark from 
behind. 

Clark pointed at the small tool. Henderson motioned a 
photographer over to take a couple of pictures before leaning 
over to pick it up with a handkerchief. But Clark was no longer 
thinking about the officer. Instead his mind continued to work 
overtime. 'Report her.' Small shoe print which could very well 
belong to a woman. Lock picking equipment. Lois in the honeymoon 
suite. Lois not prowling around the crime scene.

"Looks like a lock picking tool," said Henderson, examining the 
item. "Maybe the perpetrators were caught breaking into someone's 
apartment and when he woke up and tried to escape, they shot him. 
Got to get this down to the lab right away to check for prints. 
It's awfully small - but still, we might get lucky and pull a 
partial."

"Excuse me, Inspector," said Clark, heading at a brisk pace 
towards the hotel.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter while the 
hotel employee assisted a couple who were in the process of 
checking out. He glanced towards the elevators. He knew Lois was 
staying in the 'honeymoon suite'. But was there more than one? 
And would the room have 'honeymoon suite' on the door - if not, 
what was the number? And what floor of the building was it 
located on?

He didn't know if the lock picking tool he'd found at the crime 
scene belonged to Lois. But that combined with the fact that Lois 
had not yet put in an appearance left a huge hole in his gut. He 
had to know she was all right. After all, if anyone could find 
herself in the middle of trouble while taking a weekend off to 
relax, it was Lois. Not only that, but Clark wasn't sure he'd 
ever met a person who had as many enemies as Lois. The list of 
people wanting revenge against her was almost as long as... the 
people wanting revenge against Superman.

Of course, he had spoken to her last night - and she hadn't given 
any indication she was doing anything other than relaxing. Or was 
that true? His mind suddenly flashed back to a comment she'd made 
last night that had confused him. 'Congressman Harrington.' At 
the time he had thought the television must be on and that she 
was responding to something she was seeing on TV. But what if 
that wasn't true? Could Harrington have been in her room? He 
didn't see how, but... 

He glanced back at the man behind the desk, silently willing him 
to hurry up. 

"Can I help you?" the man finally asked as the other couple 
turned to leave.

"Yes. Could you tell me what room Lois Lane is in?" Clark tried 
to keep the panic he was beginning to feel from coming through in 
his voice. After all, he didn't know anything. He was probably 
overreacting. Still, he just had to see Lois - to know that she 
was all right.

"I'm afraid giving out room numbers is against hotel policy," the 
man answered.

"But..."

"What I can do is call her room for you. What's your name?"

"Clark Kent," Clark answered, clenching and unclenching his fist.

Not seeming to notice Clark's building frustration, the man 
turned towards the computer on the counter. Clark quickly glanced 
around. Spotting a metallic plaque on the wall behind the 
computer, he lowered his glasses down his nose and focused on the 
reflective surface. He changed his position slightly until he 
could see the screen of the computer on which the man was typing. 
He enlarged the image and when Lois' name came up, found the 
number of her room.

The man picked up the phone, but Clark was no longer there. 
Ignoring the elevators, he ascended the stairs at superspeed 
until he was standing in front of a door which had a 'do not 
disturb' sign hanging on the doorknob. He hesitated for a second, 
wondering if he was just overreacting. If everything was all 
right, how might Lois react to his appearance at her hotel door? 
For a moment, he was tempted to sneak a peek through the wall.

No. His best bet was just to knock. In all likelihood, she was 
still sound asleep in bed, enjoying her time off. He had no right 
violating her privacy by looking through the door. She might 
think he was crazy for worrying. In fact, at this moment he might 
even welcome her annoyance at his overprotectiveness. It was a 
hundred times better than the alternative. 

He knocked on the door and was shocked when it swung open under 
the force of his fist tapping against it. At first, he thought he 
had misjudged his strength, given his increasingly fearful state. 
His heart leapt into his throat when he realized the door hadn't 
been properly closed in the first place.

Trying to ignore the blood pounding in his ears, he slowly pushed 
the door open the rest of the way.

"Omigod," he breathed when he looked inside the ransacked room. 
It was only a matter of seconds before he was again making his 
way through the police barrier to talk to Henderson.

* * * * * * * * *

"The honeymoon suite?" Henderson asked for clarification.

Clark nodded.

"Lois Lane in the honeymoon suite?" Henderson asked again, as if 
not quite able to reconcile those two concepts.

Clark let out a breath. "Bill, this isn't about where Lois 
chooses to get away from it all. The point is, Lois is missing."

"Slow down, Kent. Don't you think that you might be jumping to 
conclusions here? She isn't in her room so... what? You think 
that she's somehow... our victim here? Or are you trying to tell 
me she was the one doing the shooting?" When he realized he'd 
ruffled Clark's feathers with his final comment, he rushed to 
continue. "Be reasonable, Clark. I know she's your partner, 
but..."

"I'm not overreacting," Clark cut in, surprising both the officer 
and himself by the force of his comment. He took a deep breath to 
calm himself. "Think about it, Bill. Lois finds trouble like a 
magnet finds metal filings." When Henderson opened his mouth, 
Clark raised his hand. "The break-in tool we found... Lois has 
one just like it."

Henderson's eyebrows shot up. "You do know even possessing those 
is illegal."

Clark ignored the comment. "If Lois left that hotel this morning, 
she'd have immediately come here to see what was going on."

"That's true enough."

"That shoe print..." He pointed at the print in the blood. "It 
could belong to a boy - like you said. But... couldn't it also 
belong to a woman?"

"I suppose, but..."

"From what I heard, none of your witnesses could give a 
description of the person who went into the water - so couldn't 
it have been a woman?"

"Sure. But that doesn't mean..."

"Also, one of your witnesses heard someone say something like, 
'Report her.'"

"You heard that?"

Clark ignored the question. He was too concerned about Lois at 
the moment to worry about giving his secret away. "What if she 
heard 'Reporter?' So I went to Lois' room. It's been ransacked."

Henderson was moving towards the Lexor almost before Clark 
finished his final word. "Take me to her room," he demanded.

When Clark nodded, Henderson called over to two of his best 
evidence collectors. "Serge... Mike... Come with me."

* * * * * * * * *

Clark felt like a caged animal as he watched police officers 
prowl around Lois' hotel room. Henderson had told him that 
although they would dust for prints, a hotel room often had 
hundreds of prints so there was little chance of finding the 
perpetrators in that manner. On the other hand, if they had a 
suspect, and on the off chance he hadn't worn gloves, they might 
be able to prove he had been in the room - when exactly he had 
been in the room would be another question.

Clark had spent the first part of the time on the phone, calling 
Lois' apartment, calling Perry to see if she had checked in 
there, even scoping out the entire hotel with his hearing and 
supervision. He had considered calling Lois' folks, but didn't 
want to worry them - especially when, knowing what he did about 
Lois' relationship with her parents, he didn't think she would 
have gone to see either of them. Even his call to Perry had been 
as casual as possible, trying not to pass on his fears to Perry - 
although he was fairly certain Perry knew something was up.

Now he could think of nothing else to do. His eyes landed on the 
large, heart-shaped tub in the bedroom. That was where Lois had 
been when he had been talking to her on the phone the previous 
night. He walked slowly closer, in his mind picturing Lois in 
that tub, completely naked except for the bubbles, which somehow 
only served to make the image even more erotic. The bubbles in 
the tub had long since disappeared, although Lois had obviously 
never emptied the water. Clark sighed slightly when he finally 
arrived at the edge of the tub. He really could imagine her 
there, soaking in the bubbles, a gas fire jumping in the 
fireplace, soft music playing in the background, slow music, 
romantic music.

He gave his head a quick shake, trying to bring his mind back 
from the direction it seemed to be taking. He was just about to 
turn away from the tub when the hint of something black in the 
water caught Clark's attention.

"Inspector," he called.

Henderson came up behind him. "What is it, Clark?"

"What do you think that is?"

Henderson bent beside the tub and reached his hand, one covered 
with a plastic glove, into the water. When he withdrew his hand, 
he was holding a small camera. He turned and looked at Clark, 
eyebrows raised. "Any ideas?"

"It's Lois' camera."

Henderson looked back at the camera, turning it over in his 
hands. "Well, it does seem to be waterproof. Why would Lois have 
a waterproof camera?"

Clark shrugged. "You know Lois. Why does she do anything?"

Henderson chuckled. "But how would it have ended up in the tub?"

"I don't know. Maybe she knocked it into the tub in her effort to 
leave the room in a hurry."

"Well, until we can ask her, I guess the only thing we can do is 
to get the film developed and then..."

"Umm... Inspector..." Clark's voice trailed off. Considering 
where the camera had been found, the content of the film was 
somewhat questionable. Clark couldn't imagine Lois posing for 
nude photos. But then... how much of what had transpired the 
previous night had been her decision? But given that Lois had to 
work with the police...

"I'll make sure one of our female lab techs develops the photos. 
And I'll make sure no one sees them unless I deem it necessary," 
Henderson said as if reading Clark's mind.

"Thanks, Bill."

"Inspector," called a tech from the direction of the washroom.

"Yeah, Serge?" Henderson called back.

"Does Kent know if this is Lane's hair brush?"

Henderson looked over at Clark. Clark shook his head. "Sorry. I 
just don't know."

"Well, chances are it is - so take it."

"Bill?" asked Clark.

"If that is Lois' hair, we should be able to get a DNA sample to 
compare with the blood we got from the railing on Water Street."

Clark felt as if he'd been sucker-punched. It must have shown on 
his face, because Henderson rushed to continue.

"Even if it is her blood, we still haven't found a body - so 
that's good news."

Clark's head suddenly snapped up, wondering why that thought 
hadn't occurred to him before. "Would you excuse me, Bill? I'd 
like to see if I can find Superman. If Lois did go into the river 
and was able to climb out, Superman might be able to find her. 
And if she was shot, she might need help immediately."

* * * * * * * * *

Clark collapsed on the riverbank, completely exhausted. He'd 
spent hours exploring every building, every alley and even every 
dumpster for several miles down river from the Lexor and had been 
unable to find anything. Not that he could be sure he hadn't 
missed something. Some drop of blood. Some torn article of 
clothing. Something. Anything that might lead him to Lois. Still, 
he'd found nothing.

Actually, that wasn't exactly true. Beside a dumpster in the 
alley near the Lexor, he'd found Lois' money belt. He'd 
recognized it immediately and inwardly cringed at the further 
confirmation that Lois had been outside the hotel the previous 
night. He tried and failed to find a reason why Lois would have 
left her money belt outside that didn't involve foul play. He 
wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or terrified that her 
money was still inside. What it did prove was that whatever had 
happened to Lois hadn't been a simple mugging. He supposed the 
one good thing about it not being a mugging was that if this was 
some move against Lois herself, they might not have wanted her 
dead. They might have taken her somewhere. He closed his eyes and 
fought the urge to groan at the very idea that Lois being held 
hostage was almost a relief. But the truth was that if Lois was a 
hostage, she was still alive. And if there was any possibility 
she was alive, if it took the rest of his life and all of his 
energy, he would find her. He would search heaven and earth if he 
had to.

It was getting dark before Clark, after taking Lois' money belt 
to Henderson and doing a quick check of her apartment, his 
apartment, and the Lexor in hopes that she had turned up, finally 
headed towards the Daily Planet, unsure exactly what he was going 
to tell Perry and dreading that encounter.

* * * * * * * * *

"What the Sam Hill is going on, Clark?"

Clark flinched when he saw his boss. He wasn't sure if Perry's 
comment was because he had already heard that Lois was missing or 
if it was because Clark hadn't checked in with him all day and 
had no story to submit for the paper. "I'm sorry, Chief. I..."

"Henderson called about an hour ago," Perry continued, cutting 
Clark off. "He said to tell you that the hair from the brush they 
found in the honeymoon suite was a match to the blood on the 
railing. I guess he thought I knew what was going on because when 
I asked what the hell he was talking about, he hesitated and then 
said that he needed to come by - and would tell me then."

Clark put out his hand, searching desperately to find something 
to steady himself against as confirmation that the victim of this 
attack was indeed Lois penetrated his brain. He'd been holding on 
to the hope, no matter how small, that the ransacking of Lois' 
room and her apparent disappearance were unconnected to the 
events on Water Street - that she was somewhere in hot pursuit of 
a completely different story.

"Son?" asked Perry, coming over and grabbing onto Clark as he 
swayed slightly. "Let's go to my office."

Clark gave a brief nod as he allowed Perry to guide him in the 
appropriate direction. His legs only seemed to last long enough 
for him to plop into a chair in his boss' office. He dropped his 
head into his hands as the full weight of the situation sank in.

"What's going on?" asked Perry, taking a seat on the corner of 
his desk.

Clark glanced up at the older man, only realizing too late the 
anguish that must be on his face when he noticed Perry's face 
turn white. 

"Lois?" Perry breathed.

Unable to find his voice, Clark simply nodded as tears began 
congregating in the corners of his eyes. 

"Perhaps you should start at the beginning, son," Perry said, his 
voice suddenly husky with emotion. 

Clark knew it was killing Perry not to know, and that he was 
assuming the worst right now. But it wasn't as if he was going to 
be comforted by Clark's information - so maybe there was no rush 
in taking away any remaining hope. He glanced through the windows 
into the newsroom, looking for Lois' desk, hoping against hope 
that this was all just some bad dream and he would see Lois 
typing furiously into her computer. What he saw instead was Jimmy 
pacing nervously, looking continuously at Perry's office.

"Jimmy should be in here," said Clark, knowing that the kid would 
want to be in the loop on this one and realizing he wouldn't be 
capable of repeating the story twice.

* * * * * * * * *

Both Jimmy and Perry were absolutely silent when Clark finally 
finished telling them the entire story. Clark was amazed that 
he'd managed to explain everything without breaking down. Oh 
sure, he'd had to clear his throat a few times and his voice kept 
having a tendency to crack. Still, he'd managed to fill Perry and 
Jimmy in with minimal interruptions. Clark's eyes met those of 
Perry and saw there the same fear he knew was in his eyes. It 
occurred to Clark that Perry was suddenly looking every one of 
his years.

"So no one has found her body yet - not even Superman?" asked 
Jimmy, finally breaking the silence.

"No," Clark confirmed, breaking eye contact with Perry.

"So there's still hope that she's alive," said Jimmy.

A sad smile pulled at one corner of Clark's mouth. "There's still 
hope," he confirmed, although he couldn't say he felt very 
hopeful at the moment. He rose to his feet. 

"Where you going, Clark?" Perry asked.

"To check the waterfront again. Maybe Superman missed something. 
Maybe if I..."

"Sit down," said Perry.

"I can't, Perry. I've got to... I've got to..."

"I know, son," said Perry, guiding Clark back to his chair. "And 
we will. But there's no point running around like chickens with 
our heads cut off. We need to come up with a plan."

Clark closed his eyes and clenched his fists. A long moment 
passed before he finally nodded. He was the strongest man in the 
world - and yet now, when it counted the most, he was helpless. 
He forced himself to pull himself together. Lois needed him to be 
strong now, stronger than he'd ever been before he suspected - 
her life might very well depend on it. Finally, he opened his 
eyes. "Where do we start, Perry?"

As if he had been waiting for Clark to regain control, Perry 
finally spoke. "Well, has anyone checked local hospitals for 
gunshot victims?"

"I can do that, chief," Jimmy said, turning towards the door.

Clark almost got the impression the kid was as anxious to get 
away from the tension in Perry's office as he was to find Lois. 
He quickly dismissed that thought as uncharitable. Lois was 
Jimmy's friend, too. In fact, Clark suspected Jimmy was half in 
love with the woman. "Thanks, Jimmy," he said, forcing himself to 
give Jimmy a reassuring smile as he left the room.

* * * * * * * * *

Henderson entered the Daily Planet and looked around. The 
majority of the staff had called it a night. There were some 
notable exceptions. Jimmy Olsen, whom Henderson had only met 
once, was seated at a desk, a phone book in front of him, and 
Perry White and Clark Kent were engaged in a discussion in the 
editor's office.

Taking a deep breath, Henderson headed towards White's office. He 
only hoped Clark had already filled Perry in on the situation - 
otherwise Henderson was going to have to be the one to tell White 
that his star reporter was in all likelihood the victim of a 
shooting incident. And he really wasn't looking forward to that. 
His impression was that White was very fond of his feisty 
reporter. Breaking this news to him would not be a pleasant task. 
Still, there really was no other option. In order to confirm that 
Lois was the one whose blood they had found, they really needed 
to obtain a fingerprint. After all, although it was logical to 
assume that the hair in the brush at the honeymoon suite belonged 
to Lois, there was a chance, however small, that the brush had 
belonged to a previous occupant.

"Henderson," Perry growled huskily, directing Clark's attention 
to the officer as well. 

The grim expressions on the faces of both men told Henderson that 
Perry was now aware of the situation.

"Mr. White," Henderson said, his normally gruff voice sounding 
suspiciously soft. He stuck out his hand, taking Perry's when 
Perry rose from behind his desk. "I take it Kent, here, has told 
you what's going on."

"So what are you doing to find my top reporter?" Perry growled, 
ignoring Henderson's question and yet at the same time answering 
it.

"Well, officially, we're still trying to find out if it is your 
top reporter we're looking for."

Perry snorted. 

"I don't know if Kent told you, but we found a camera in Lois' 
hotel room."

"A camera?" asked Perry, looking at Clark who nodded to confirm 
Henderson's statement.

Henderson handed a brown envelope to Perry. Clark rose, 
approaching Perry as the older man opened the envelope and 
removed the enclosed pictures. 

"We've managed to confirm that these pictures were taken through 
the window of the honeymoon suite of the Lexor - into a suite in 
the apartment building next door. Suite 1110, 1726 Water Street. 
Kent said the camera belonged to Lane." He paused for a moment. 
"So what was Lane actually working on? Kent said she was taking a 
few days off, but those..." He pointed to the pictures. "... seem 
to tell a different story. I assume you had her working on 
something without Kent's knowledge. At least I wouldn't think 
Kent here would lie to the police - at least about something that 
might affect our ability to find his partner."

Perry continued flipping through the pictures. "I didn't have her 
working on anything. But Lois doesn't go anywhere without her 
camera. When she saw what was going on, and who was in that room, 
she must have decided to take the pictures. On the other hand, I 
suspected she had a lead on a story when we found out she had 
reservations in the honeymoon suite at the Lexor. But this..." He 
pointed to a picture which was particularly suggestive of a sex 
party. "...this isn't Lois' type of story - no matter who the 
politicians are."

Henderson crinkled his eyebrows as he took a closer look at the 
pictures. "Do you know the identities of the men in those 
pictures?"

Perry nodded. "That's Congressman Harrington. And Congressman 
Spencer."

"I think this man is a congressional aide," added Clark, looking 
at the pictures over Perry's shoulder. "I'm not sure which 
congressman he's attached to - Bower, maybe."

Perry pointed to another picture. "And this... this... I'm 
surprised to see him there."

"Who is it?"

"Bill Church Jr."

"Who is he?" 

"Bill Church Sr. is the owner of the Cost Mart chain. Junior 
works for his father. I don't know how he would even know the 
congressmen - although a man like Bill Church Sr. probably knows 
a lot of politicians. But Harrington, Spencer and..." He looked 
at Clark. "Bower?" He waited until Clark nodded before 
continuing. "All three of those men are here for the 
Congressional Inquiry into organized crime in this country. Of 
course, they could all just be friends of Junior."

"So what are you saying? This gathering might just be a... social 
occasion? Maybe Church Jr. was just blowing off a little steam 
with the guys after a long day's work? No connection to the 
Inquiry?"

Perry thought about that for a moment. He'd known Bill Church Jr. 
all his life. He'd bounced him on his knee as a child, for crying 
out loud. But then... why was Lois missing? "I guess I really 
don't know," said Perry. Normally he'd be defending Church. But 
with Lois missing, no one was above suspicion. "Maybe you're 
right. Maybe Lois discovered that Church and the congressmen were 
up to no good. Maybe they saw her taking pictures and came after 
her."

Henderson nodded. "Okay, then I'll talk to Harrington, Spencer, 
Bower's aide and Church tomorrow. I'll be sure to keep you 
informed about what I find out."

"Good," Perry said, still lost in thought. Maybe he'd do a little 
digging around as well. After all, once upon a time he'd been 
quite a reporter himself.

"I also had an idea," said Clark. "I was thinking I'd write a 
story saying that the Daily Planet is missing its star reporter. 
Put Lois' picture with it - although I don't think we should 
connect it to the shooting on Water Street. Anyway, if I write 
it, can you get it in the morning edition?"

"Yeah. I'll tell them to hold the presses."

"And I spoke to Superman earlier. He said to tell the public that 
Superman will consider it a personal favor if anyone with 
information calls the Daily Planet or the MPD. Why do you look 
like you don't approve, Bill?"

"You do realize that if you run this, you will be swamped with 
phone calls from loonies and glory-hounds trying to cash in on 
their fifteen minutes of fame."

"If it gives us even one good lead, it will be worth it."

"Then you better take the MPD reference out of that article. You 
might be willing to be swamped with phony leads, but we don't 
have the manpower for it."

Clark looked over at Perry.

Perry nodded. "Let's do it." He hadn't really considered that 
aspect of it. The suits upstairs would... Screw the suits 
upstairs! If he had to hire some temp workers, that's what he 
would do. His top reporter was missing, after all. And he'd be 
damned if he'd let a little money keep him from doing everything 
in his power to get her back.

"Anyway, the reason I'm here is that I'd like to try to get 
Lane's fingerprints to compare with the prints we got from the 
rail earlier. I was hoping you'd agree to let us dust her desk 
for prints."

Perry hesitated for a moment. Letting the police get Lois' 
fingerprints could have detrimental, long-term consequences to a 
reporter who had a habit of skirting the edges of the law, 
sometimes even stepping over the line, to get a story.

"I promise they will only be used to confirm that they're Lois' 
prints on the rail," said Henderson, as if realizing the reasons 
for Perry's hesitation.

"They'll be destroyed after Lois is found?" Perry asked for 
clarification.

"I'll see to it myself."

Perry looked at Clark who nodded his approval.

"Then be my guest, Inspector."

Henderson turned to Clark. "Could you show me which desk belongs 
to your partner?"

"Sure," said Clark. 

"Oh, and Kent, before I forget, I was wondering if you might have 
some way to get ahold of Superman," said Henderson.

"I might. Why?"

"Well, it would be a big help if he could drag the river for us - 
see if he can find Lane's bod... well, if he can find anything."

"Superman will not waste his time looking for Lois' body," Clark 
responded, his voice rising. "All of his energy is going into 
finding her - alive! She's not dead! And I... he will not give up 
on..."

"If he wants us to find her alive, the best thing he can do right 
now is to drag the river," Henderson interrupted. 

Clark was stunned. He glanced at Perry, who looked just as 
confused as he, before looking back at the inspector. "I don't 
understand."

"Dragging the river... which according to protocol has to be our 
next step, will take hundreds of man hours. Man hours we could 
use trying to solve this case... and finding Lois, if she's... 
Well, you know what I mean."

Clark stared at the inspector in disbelief. Did he have any idea 
what exactly he was asking of Superman... of Clark? The very 
thought of spending his time in the murky waters of the river 
searching for Lois' lifeless body... How was he supposed to cope 
with that? But hundreds of police hours which could be used to 
solve this case... He closed his eyes, fighting to retain control 
of his emotions. "I'll see if I can find him," said Clark when he 
thought his voice was steady enough. He turned to Perry. "About 
that story, Perry..."

"I'll write it, Clark. It will be on the front page of the 
morning edition of the Daily Planet."

Clark nodded and turned to head out of the newsroom.

"Oh and Clark..." Perry waited until Clark looked back before 
continuing. "Stay with Superman until he's finished, would you? 
Doing this is going to be very hard on him. He'll probably 
appreciate having you there."

Clark wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. If Perry suspected he 
was Superman - and a part of him had often wondered if Perry did 
- then he'd just given Clark the perfect excuse not to return to 
the Planet until this assignment was complete. On the other hand, 
if Perry didn't know, then he'd just reinforced in Clark's mind 
what it would cost him to do this. He couldn't believe how much 
he wished he had a friend around who could help him cope with 
what this search was bound to do to him. In fact, at this moment 
he'd give almost anything for Lois to be the one to fill that 
void in his life. Of course, were she here, there wouldn't be a 
need for.... He gave his head a slight shake. Without a word, 
Clark turned around and headed towards the stairs. 

* * * * * * * * *

Clark sank down on the edge of the roof of the Lexor, dangling 
his feet over the side. He'd dived what felt like hundreds of 
times beneath the murky surface of the West River. At first, he 
simply dove haphazardly, too upset by the assignment to approach 
it logically. But after the first dozen dives, he had forced 
himself to calm down and follow a grid pattern. He had done a 
survey of the river from above, but with all the muck in the 
water, diving down had been the only way to ensure that he didn't 
miss anything - even with the advantage of x-ray vision. After 
all, unlike x-raying a wall where, once his eyes had seen through 
the barrier, he had a clear view of everything on the other side, 
he had to be careful when x-raying through mucky waters. If he 
wasn't, it was all too easy to accidentally x-ray through the 
very thing he wanted to see. This time, he couldn't take that 
risk.

He wrapped his cape around himself, using it to protect himself 
from the chill of the night air. Normally the cold didn't affect 
him - but this night was anything but normal. He shivered. If it 
was this cold in the air, what must it have been like for Lois, 
shot, bleeding, plunging into cold water? When he closed his 
eyes, he could see her fighting against the currents, her body 
battered and bloody. He could see the terror in her eyes. He 
could hear her gasping for air, battling to breathe. He could 
feel her desperation as she struggled to live. Why hadn't she 
called for him? He would have dropped everything, not that he'd 
been doing anything anyway, to rescue her. Didn't she know that?

Once he'd finished searching the river, at least as much as he'd 
been able to do without going completely mad, he'd checked in 
with Perry. Perry was digging up everything he could about 
Congressmen Harrington, Spencer and Bower as well as Bill Church 
Jr. and Cost Mart stores. Jimmy had checked all the hospitals and 
morgues and had found no sign of Lois. Then he'd broken into 
Lois' computer files - trying to figure out if she had been 
working on something connected to her disappearance. 

When Jimmy had finished, Perry had sent him to spend the night at 
Lois' place. Clark shook his head, recalling the moment Perry had 
pulled a whole set of keys out of a hiding place in Lois' desk. 
Keys to her apartment, he had explained. All three men had stared 
for a long time at the keys, each lost in their own thoughts and 
memories about the number of locks on Lois' doors - and what that 
said about the missing woman. Then Perry had handed them to 
Jimmy, instructing him to spend the night at Lois' apartment, 
just in case she returned there.

Clark was glad Perry had suggested that Jimmy be the one to stay 
at Lois' apartment for the night. Clark wasn't sure he could 
handle being there right now - being surrounded by reminders of 
Lois. He suspected Perry had understood that. Clark wondered if a 
normal person would notice it, but with his sense of smell, he 
would always know he was in Lois' apartment, even without his 
sight, just because of the way it smelled of her. He wasn't sure 
he could handle that tonight. So instead, he was waiting on top 
of the Lexor, just in case she found her way back to her hotel 
room.

Her hotel room was currently a crime scene - which was why it was 
absolutely critical he be there if she arrived. After all, when 
she realized she couldn't get into her room, she would 
undoubtedly leave again. And if she was hurt... No. Someone had 
to wait for her at the Lexor.

He glanced across the city to the large clock which was clearly 
visible on the top of City Hall. It was nearly three o'clock in 
the morning. He really should go inside. If he simply sat down 
outside the door to her hotel room, even if he fell asleep, if 
she found him there, she was certain to wake him. Still, from his 
current location he could hear if anyone went remotely near her 
room. And he needed a moment more of looking out over the city, 
hoping the illusion of peace brought about by watching the city 
from above at night would calm him.

But his thoughts remained anything but calm. They were a swirl of 
images and emotions - all of them revolving around the most 
incredible woman he had ever met. From the moment he'd first laid 
eyes on her, he'd been hooked. It wasn't just that she was a 
beautiful woman - although she certainly was.

Before meeting Lois, he had thought he was more attracted to 
blondes. Now... Now he was firmly in the brunette camp. It amazed 
him how one woman storming into his life had instantly changed 
everything. Her eyes twinkled with such a depth of emotion - 
whether it be anger, or mischief, or excitement. Her eyes had 
first informed Clark how much more there was to the woman than 
she wanted people to see. Her face was perfect - high cheekbones, 
a button nose and a smile that could make his heart come to a 
complete standstill. She could give him a look that would freeze 
his blood or cause it to heat to dangerous temperatures. And her 
body... a slow smile made its way across his face as he thought 
about that perfect body, a body he could almost believe had been 
made specifically to his specifications. He'd never been sure if 
he was a leg or a breast man - but with Lois he hadn't had to 
make a choice. Legs that went on forever beneath those short 
skirts she seemed to favor. Well toned and perfectly muscled. And 
her chest... For some reason whenever he looked at Lois' chest, 
he was reminded of a Seinfeld episode he'd seen about a year ago: 
'They're real and they're spectacular.'

Yet it hadn't been her looks that had hooked him that first day. 
After all, he'd met lots of beautiful women in his life. It had 
been her spirit. After their brief encounter in Perry's office, 
he felt as if he'd been standing in the direct path of a tornado. 
Her spirit was the first thing he'd fallen in love with.

That last thought caught him off guard. In love. Was he really in 
love with Lois? The answer hit him just like a proverbial ton of 
bricks. Yes. He'd never quite allowed himself to use that 
expression when thinking of Lois until now. He knew he adored 
her. He knew she made him feel alive. He missed her when they 
were apart and felt excited at the thought of seeing her. And he 
knew that he'd give her the world if she would only ask. But in 
love? Those were scary words. But now, this night, sitting alone 
looking out into the dark, terrified that he'd never again be 
able to look into her eyes, he realized that he'd been in love 
with her all along. Before now, to actually allow himself to 
think that he was in love with her... It had been a terrifying 
thought. Although at this moment he really wasn't entirely sure 
what he'd been so scared of. 

He focused on that thought for a moment. When he'd asked Lois out 
while they had been investigating their first story, he hadn't 
thought much about it. It had been... kind of an impulse 
decision. He hadn't repeated the invitation immediately 
afterwards because of the fight which had resulted on that 
occasion. But why hadn't he asked her out since? Why was he so 
scared to let her know that he'd like to see what else might be 
possible between them? He had always told himself he was afraid 
he'd lose her friendship if he did. But did he really think she 
would allow an invitation to supper ruin their friendship or 
their partnership? No. If he were honest with himself, she wasn't 
the only one scared of pursuing a relationship. The truth was 
they were both scared of letting anyone get too close. She, 
because of her fear of getting her heart broken. He, because of 
his fear of letting anyone know about Superman.

He gave his head a slight shake. He knew he had nothing to fear 
from Lois as far as Superman was concerned. She would never 
betray him or his folks for the sake of a story. She was fiercely 
loyal where her friends were concerned. His fear was due to 
something different. He had told himself he had to know if she 
would love him for himself and not for the powers, but he knew 
Lois wasn't that shallow. What she loved about Superman was what 
he stood for - because she stood for the same things. He had 
always been afraid, not that she would think more of Clark, but 
that she would think less of Superman. How would she feel about 
her hero if she found out that he was as fallible as any ordinary 
man? If he were honest with himself, his fear was that she would 
quit loving Superman. It was that, more than anything else, that 
had kept him from actively pursuing Lois Lane as plain old Clark 
Kent. Having her love only part of him was better than not having 
her love him at all.

It all seemed so stupid and selfish to him now. He snorted. Leave 
it to him only to realize his own fears were the real reason he 
hadn't pursued Lois until he lost... He closed his eyes and 
clenched his jaw. All the time he had been searching the river, 
he'd been telling himself he was only doing it to prove she 
wasn't dead, that he was freeing up the MPD so they could 
concentrate on finding her. It had been the only way to keep his 
sanity during the search, afraid any second he could discover her 
bloated, lifeless body. And then when he hadn't found her body, 
he'd tried to tell himself it was because she was still alive. 
The problem was that given the power of the current in the West 
River, her body could easily have been carried into Hobbs Bay, or 
by now, even the ocean.

The search had easily been the worst thing he'd ever had to do. 
The stench of the river, even now, seemed to cling to every 
molecule of his body, rising into the air as if it were the reek 
of death itself, reminding him of every excruciating minute of 
that search. He had approached every shape and form with his 
heart in his throat. On more occasions than he could count, he 
had reached out to pull something out of the way only to watch 
his hand tremble. Every shadow had been Lois. He had never before 
known such terror. It penetrated every fiber of his body, leaving 
his legs feeling weak, his head in a fog, unable to focus for 
long on any one thing, and his heart pounding painfully.

His heart still hoped... believed... it believed Lois was alive. 
His head was the part of his anatomy giving him problems. If she 
was alive, where was she? Why hadn't she contacted him or yelled 
for Superman? Hell, he was currently so in tune with her that if 
she as much as breathed his name, he was certain he would hear 
it. And yet, there had not been the slightest sign of her - 
except those that pointed towards her being dead. 

He had finally found someone special. Someone able to accept 
those aspects of his life which had always made him different. 
Someone who was his equal. Someone with whom he could laugh, 
fight and maybe, just maybe, have a future. Someone who he could 
love with his whole heart. Someone he just knew would be able to 
understand and support him. Someone who caused every nerve ending 
in his body to come to life just by entering a room. Yet before 
he had even acted on his feelings, it was entirely possible she'd 
been taken from him. It felt as if someone had torn a gigantic 
hole in the center of his chest, leaving only a vacuum where his 
heart had once been.

He would keep searching. He would search for the rest of his life 
if he had to. But... what if she were dead? Dead. His heart sank. 
What if Lois were dead? He'd never even bothered telling her how 
incredible he thought she was, how just one sight of her in the 
morning, one whiff of her perfume, even just the sound of her 
heartbeat made him feel alive in a way he never had before. What 
if she were gone and all he was left with was regrets, regrets of 
things he'd never said, things they'd never done together - would 
never do together? A tear trickled down his cheek to fall 
unheeded to the ground.

She made him feel alive. She was like a force of nature, 
transforming the world around her by the sheer power of her will. 
It was as if he had been born the moment she'd stormed into 
Perry's office only a few months before. Everything before that 
was a reflection, a poor imitation of living. If she were dead, 
everything he would do from now on would be done in the shadow of 
a moment when he'd stood in the light of her sun.

He was being melodramatic. He knew that. But that didn't stop the 
deep ache in his soul. It was almost a physical pain, a crushing 
sensation in his chest. He had to do something. But what?

What would Lois do if their situations were reversed? Not that 
that was a terribly good example. After all, she didn't feel for 
him the things he felt for her. Still, if she were in his 
situation, if she had lost someone she loved with her whole 
heart... What would Lois do? Clark raised his head and set his 
chin in determination when he knew what Lois would want him to do 
now, what she'd kill him for not doing. She'd want him to pursue 
the story, find the people who had done this to her and bring 
them to justice. Well, that was exactly what he would do. He 
couldn't let the bastards get away with whatever they had done to 
Lois. He'd find them. He'd bring them to justice. And he would 
find Lois. And together they would write the story - and no 
one... no one would get there first.

* * * * * * * * *
SUNDAY
* * * * * * * * *

The early morning sunlight was streaming in the window as Lex 
Luthor settled into his chair at the large mahogany dining table 
and picked up the napkin, placing it carefully on his lap. In 
front of him was his breakfast - two eggs, sunny side up, 
perfectly crisp bacon, fresh strawberries, flown into Metropolis 
that very morning specifically for his breakfast, and a freshly 
baked croissant. Beside his breakfast sat a cup of coffee - his 
own special blend, made with beans which had just been ground 
that morning.

Nigel entered the room and placed a couple dozen newspapers on 
the table next to Luthor.

"Thank you, Nigel," Luthor responded before reaching over to 
rifle through the pile until he found the one he was looking for 
- The Daily Planet. Nigel had always been very careful to provide 
his boss the papers in the order he read them. But things had 
recently changed for the billionaire. 

Prior to last week, he'd always started out his morning by 
looking at The Wall Street Journal. But once he'd realized that 
he was in love with Lois Lane, his reading patterns had changed. 
Now the first paper he was reading every morning was the Daily 
Planet. He was going to need to mention that to Nigel.

Luthor looked up when he heard someone else enter the room - a 
curvaceous blonde who was slipping into her coat.

"Are you sure you won't join me for breakfast, my dear?" asked 
Luthor, more out of politeness than any real desire to spend more 
time with the woman - at least for the time being.

"I can't, pookie," said the woman in a very flirtatious, almost 
baby voice as she came over and gave him a kiss. "I've got to go 
home to feed my puppy. He'll be wondering where mommy's been all 
night."

"Of course," responded Luthor with a smile. 

"Besides, you've got all these nasty papers to read." She ran her 
finger over the top of the pile in such a way as to leave the 
average man panting for air. Even Luthor, who was hardly the 
average man when it came to sexual experience, was not totally 
immune.

"At least have one of these," Luthor said, holding up a 
strawberry for her. She leaned over, revealing a generous amount 
of cleavage. Taking the strawberry halfway into her mouth, she 
took a bite. Her tongue instantly darted out to lap up a small 
amount of the juice which had escaped her mouth. She closed her 
eyes, chewed slowly and then moaned softly as she swallowed. A 
small smile stole onto Luthor's face as he appreciated the show 
which she was putting on for his pleasure. 

When she opened her eyes, she smiled at him, obviously seeing 
something in his expression that told her she'd received the 
reaction she was wanting. Reaching out, she playfully tapped his 
nose.

"Call me, pookie," she said before heading for the door. 

He turned to watch as she made her way out of the room. He 
smiled. He always appreciated the nights he spent with Mindy 
Ramshaw. He wasn't fooled, of course, by her flirtatious act. She 
had obviously learned quite well that her best asset was her 
looks and she knew how to use those looks to her full advantage. 
And the fact that she was... talented when the lights went out 
only served to further her powers. Luthor briefly wondered if, 
like Cleopatra of old, she'd realized her greatest advantage was 
her ability in the bedroom and had thus learned her trade at the 
feet of a professional. One night with the woman would make any 
man believe that was a very real possibility.

What he was certain of, however, was that Mindy Ramshaw was 
hungry for power. That meant his time with her was limited. After 
all, once she realized that he had no intention of sharing his 
power with her, she'd be off to seek out another sucker. He had 
to take advantage of all her assets while he could. 

It never even crossed his mind to wonder about the ethics in 
bedding one woman while in love with another. Such concerns were 
for those of the middle class. People of Luthor's station in life 
were above such considerations.

As he popped the remainder of the fresh strawberry in his mouth, 
he glanced down at the paper he'd withdrawn earlier. When he 
noticed Lois' picture on the front, his earlier thoughts about 
Mindy were wiped instantly from his mind. Under the picture was 
the headline: 'Daily Planet Reporter Missing.'

"Nigel!" Luthor yelled.

"Sir?" asked Nigel, quickly appearing from nowhere.

"Get the car!"

* * * * * * * * *

Clark collapsed into a chair in Henderson's office. It had been a 
long night. He'd only slept for about forty-five minutes - and 
that while sitting beside the door to the honeymoon suite. 
Although he didn't need much sleep, he did need some. And 
considering that the lack of sleep was also accompanied by the 
highest levels of stress and grief he had ever experienced, he 
felt as if he had been run over by a bus.

When he'd been unable to sleep, he'd wandered around the hotel, 
showing Lois' picture to the night staff to find out if they had 
seen or heard anything unusual. He'd only been able to find one 
man, a bellboy, who could remember seeing Lois the previous 
night. The man had apparently helped her check in and had then 
seen her heading out for a jog sometime after one a.m. When asked 
why he thought she was going jogging, the bellboy informed Clark 
that she was in a sweat suit and a wool cap - the same outfit a 
witness had said the person who had fallen into the river was 
wearing. One thing the bellboy was clear about, however, was that 
Lois had left the hotel alone and under her own power. Clark 
supposed that was a good thing.

The information had momentarily infused Clark with new resolve - 
and had sent him out to scour the riverbank once again, looking 
for any signs that might indicate that Lois had climbed out of 
the river. It had been a fool's errand, however. There was 
nothing he hadn't seen earlier.

He had taken a few quick flybys of Lois' apartment during the 
course of the night. But all he'd been able to see when he'd x-
rayed the roof was Jimmy sound asleep on Lois' couch. And he'd 
flown by his own place several times on the off chance that she'd 
gone there. Every time, as he approached either place, he found 
his heart was in his throat, only to plunge into his stomach when 
there was no sign of Lois. Still, he couldn't seem to stop 
himself from continuing to check.

"How you holding up?" asked Henderson, walking into his office 
with two cups of coffee and handing one to Clark. 

"I'm fine. I'm just wondering if you've found anything new about 
Lois."

Henderson gestured to the mug, silently encouraging Clark to take 
a sip. Clark complied. Henderson then pulled a small brown paper 
bag from inside his desk and handed it to Clark.

"What's this?" asked Clark.

Henderson gestured for Clark to open the bag. Clark did and found 
a donut inside. He looked up at Henderson in confusion.

"If you want answers from me, you'll eat the donut."

"You found Lois?" Clark asked, springing forward in his chair.

"No," Henderson responded immediately. "But if we're going to 
find her, you're going to have to keep your strength up. You look 
like death warmed over at the moment. So you eat. I'll talk."

Clark stared absently at Henderson for a moment before glancing 
back at the small bag.

"Eat," said Henderson.

When Clark realized that Henderson was waiting for Clark to take 
a bite before he was prepared to talk, he immediately complied.

"Well, we checked the fingerprints we found on Lane's keyboard 
with those we found on the railing. And it's a match. I think we 
can safely say that it is Lois we're looking for."

Clark closed his eyes. This information was nothing new. He 
already knew it was Lois. But every single piece of confirmation 
still felt like another knife being plunged into his stomach. 

"So what did you find out last night?" Henderson asked. 

After Clark filled him in, the two men were silent for a moment. 
Finally, Clark let out a breath.

"It's just so frustrating. Everything we've found tells us the 
victim is Lois. But that doesn't tell us where she is or who did 
this to her. It doesn't get us any closer to finding her," said 
Clark.

"Unless Lois suddenly walks through those doors, it's going to 
take time."

"Don't talk to me about time, Bill. I'm not an idiot. I've worked 
missing persons cases before and I know the first forty-eight 
hours are critical. And if Lois was shot..." Clark's voice 
suddenly trailed off, unwilling to complete his final thought.

"Tell me something, Clark."

Clark met the inspector's eyes.

"What's your relationship with Lois?"

"We're partners."

"And...?"

"And... friends."

"And...?"

"I don't know what you're getting at, Bill. And furthermore, I 
don't know the relevance. We should be looking for Lois, not 
talking about my relationship with her."

"Knowing about your relationship could be critical to finding 
her."

"I don't see..."

"For example, would she contact you? Should we put someone at 
your apartment in case she tries to call..."

His voice trailed off when a light came on in Clark's eyes. He 
watched as Clark grabbed the phone, snatching it from the cradle, 
and punched in a number. Clark listened for a moment and then 
punched in a few more numbers and listened again. And as suddenly 
as the light had lit up Clark's eyes, it went out.

"What?" asked Henderson when, without saying a word, Clark hung 
up the phone.

"I just realized you might be right. Lois might have tried to 
contact me. So I checked my answering machine."

"I take it there were no messages."

Clark gave a sad half-smile. "Just one from my folks."

"Sorry. So I take it you think she might have tried to contact 
you. Does that mean that you two were involved?"

Clark let out a breath. "I told you, Lois and I were partners and 
frien..." His thought was cut off by a jagged breath when he 
suddenly realized what he'd done. It seemed Henderson noticed, 
too, because he cut in immediately.

"Look, Clark, don't beat yourself up for referring to Lois in the 
past tense. Under the circumstances..."

"She's not dead, Bill," Clark instantly responded. "It was just a 
slip of the tongue. And I'm not beating myself up. We're going to 
find her. She is..." He emphasized the word. "...a tough, 
resourceful woman. If anyone can survive this, it's Lois. And if 
it takes me the rest of my life, I'm going to find her," Clark 
said, not entirely sure who he was trying to convince.

"Well, to that end, we do have a lead. I have some pictures I 
want you to..."

"Henderson."

A man's voice saying Henderson's name drew the attention of both 
him and Clark towards a man standing in the doorway.

"Mr. Luthor?" asked Henderson, rising to his feet. "What can I do 
for you?"

"They tell me that you're the one looking into Lois Lane's 
disappearance."

"I am," said Henderson.

Clark slowly rose to his feet, remaining in the background as his 
mind began to work overtime. His first thought was to question 
why Luthor was there. His second was to wonder how Luthor knew 
Lois was missing. It took a moment for him to remember that Perry 
was putting a story saying that Lois was missing on the front 
page of the Daily Planet.

"So what are you doing to find her?" asked Luthor.

"This is a police investigation. I'm not at liberty to give out 
that information. But trust me when I tell you we're doing 
everything that can be done."

"If you can't give out that information, what's Kent doing here?" 
Without waiting for a reply, Luthor continued. "So, Inspector, 
can you tell me when you'll be bringing Lois home?"

"We haven't..."

"That's what I thought. You've got nothing! All the powers of the 
Metropolis Police Department behind you and you've got nothing! 
I'll have you know that I do not find that acceptable. And if you 
don't find her within the next twenty-four hours, I promise you, 
Inspector, I will have your badge."

"Now wait a minute..." began Henderson, but he was cut off by 
Clark speaking for the first time since Luthor had entered the 
room. 

"I've been working with Henderson on this since yesterday 
afternoon," said Clark. "And I can confirm that he's doing 
everything that can be done."

"Well now, that's a comfort," Luthor responded sarcastically, 
glaring at Clark. "And you've been a reporter... how long now, 
Kent? Two months? Three months? So hearing from you that 
everything that can be done is being done, well now, that's a 
great comfort."

"And what business is it of yours, anyway?" asked Clark, moving 
closer to Luthor.

"Lois and I are... involved."

"Involved," Clark scoffed, although he secretly couldn't help but 
wonder exactly how involved Lois and Luthor were. "She sometimes 
'tolerates' your company. Other than that, I'm her partner. I'm 
her friend. I'm the one she comes to when she needs help."

"So did she come to you when she needed help this time?" asked 
Luthor.

Clark felt as if he'd been slapped. "Did she come to you?" he 
shot back, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Luthor turned towards Henderson slightly. "Mr. Kent here is under 
the delusion that a woman as remarkable as Lois could see him as 
something other than an errand boy."

The tension, the fear, the lack of sleep and the mere two bites 
of donut and single sip of coffee, not to mention spending half 
the night scouring the West River for Lois' body finally caught 
up to Clark and he felt something snap inside him. "And by the 
way, Luthor, how do we know that you aren't responsible for Lois' 
disappearance?"

"What?" asked Luthor.

"What?" gasped Henderson, looking more stunned than Luthor by the 
accusation.

"Yeah," said Clark, moving even closer to Luthor as the idea 
began to take hold. "We have reason to believe that Lois was 
looking into something to do with the upcoming Congressional 
Inquiry into organized crime. Maybe she got a little too close. 
Maybe she was about to blow your cover and expose you for the 
criminal scumbag you are."

"You're delusional, Kent. I'm one of the most respected 
businessmen on the eastern seaboard - not to mention the country, 
maybe even the world. I won't be talked down to by a wannabe who 
is as delusional as that kid who sometimes does work for Lois... 
Joey or somebody... if you think Lois Lane would ever consider a 
nobody like you..."

Luthor never managed to finish the insult because his voice was 
cut off by Clark's fist plowing into his face. Luthor stumbled 
back, lost his footing and fell to the floor.

"Hey!" yelled Henderson, jumping forward to grab Clark, holding 
him back before he could do any further damage.

Police officers, seeing the kerfuffle, rushed to the doorway.

"I want him arrested and charged with assault," growled Luthor, 
rising from his undignified position on the floor of Henderson's 
office, one hand over his eye. 

"Listen," said Henderson, using his 'let's all calm down' voice, 
"I know tempers are running a little hot here, given the 
circumstances, but..."

"That man assaulted me," said Luthor, refusing to be calmed by 
Henderson's words. "I'm in a police station. How many officers 
saw it? I want him arrested and charged with assault."

"Mr. Luthor..." Henderson began again.

"If he isn't arrested immediately, I'll file a complaint with 
your Chief of Police."

Henderson let out a breath, turning to Clark. "You are under 
arrest. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that 
right, anything you say can and will..." As he continued to read 
Clark his rights, Luthor turned towards the door. 

"Find Lois Lane!" Luthor demanded before disappearing through the 
doors that led to the main part of the station.

* * * * * * * * *

Nigel, halfway up the stairs to the police station, stared at 
Luthor coming towards him. 

"What happened to your eye?" asked Nigel.

"It's not important. I have an idea about who might be behind 
Lois' disappearance."

"Sir?"

"You know how we've been concerned about how amiable Church Jr. 
has been with the congressmen in town for the inquiry."

"You've been worried that he might be trying to direct the 
inquiry away from Intergang's activities by sending them in your 
direction. Especially given how peculiar it is for Intergang to 
come to Metropolis - given your control of the city. I've been 
working on that, sir. But what..."

"Kent was at the station. He made a comment which leads me to 
believe that Lois was covering the inquiry. And since I know I 
didn't order her killed..."

"You're thinking Junior might have."

"Get me everything you can on Bill Church Jr.'s activities since 
he arrived in Metropolis."

"Certainly, sir."

Luthor nodded slowly, looking off into the distance. "I want to 
know if Lois stumbled onto something Church had going on."

"I'll get right on it, sir."

Luthor nodded before accompanying Nigel down the steps to the 
police station. Luthor was just about to crawl into the limo when 
a voice calling his name stopped him. He turned around to see 
Henderson coming out of the station.

"Mr. Luthor," Henderson said as he arrived at the bottom of the 
steps.

"What is it, Inspector?"

"I'm hoping to convince you to reconsider your request to have 
Kent charged with assault."

"Kent is a danger to..."

"He's also doing everything in his power to find Lois," 
interrupted Henderson. "And so far, he has been very helpful in 
this investigation."

"If the Metropolis Police Department can't handle..."

"What do you think Ms. Lane will think if she comes back to find 
out that you had her partner arrested while he was trying to help 
find her?" Henderson asked.

Luthor was silent as he thought about that. Henderson was right. 
Although he'd prefer to keep Kent out of this investigation, he 
didn't want to have to explain to Lois why he'd had Kent arrested 
at a time like this. "Let him go," he said, not happy but not 
seeing an alternative. 

Without another word, Luthor turned and climbed into his limo. 
Keeping Kent in jail wasn't the way to keep Kent out of this 
investigation.

On the other hand, Luthor had no intention of letting Kent find 
Lois. He needed to be the one to find her, to be her hero. He had 
no doubt that he could. After all, his finances weren't the only 
thing he had at his disposal to accomplish this task. His 
connections in the underworld were unparalleled. If anyone could 
find her, it was he. 

But before doing that... He let out a slow breath as the car 
pulled away from the curb. He still needed someone inside the 
Daily Planet - just in case Kent got lucky. He suddenly had an 
inspiration about how he might be able to achieve that.

"Where to, sir?" asked the chauffeur.

"The Daily Planet."

* * * * * * * * *

Grey Eyes climbed into the passenger's seat and waited until 
Muscle Head pulled away from the curb before taking a look at the 
story on the front page of the Daily Planet.

"So what's the story say, boss? Do they know what happened to 
Lane?"

The older man was silent as he read the story, ignoring the 
question. Once he'd finished the story about Lane's 
disappearance, he continued looking through the Sunday edition. 
He stopped on page thirty-three when he saw a story called 'Shots 
Fired On Water Street' by Ralph Summers. He quickly read through 
that story as well before allowing himself to smile.

"It seems they haven't made the connection between the events on 
Water Street and Lane's disappearance," he finally said. "They 
don't know whether she's alive or dead - or just off working on a 
story."

"So things are lookin' good?"

Grey Eyes nodded. "And the body of the hooker?"

"Taken care of. And I did what you said and went back to the 
suite and cleaned up the blood."

"Good."

The car pulled to a stop in front of a run down apartment 
building. 

"Remember that we have a meeting with our contact this 
afternoon," said Grey Eyes. "Pick me up at three."

"Will do."

Muscle Head waited until the older man got out of the car and 
headed towards the building before reaching into his shirt pocket 
and removing Lois Lane's press pass. Smiling, he hung the press 
pass from the rearview mirror before pulling away from the curb.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark sank down onto the side of the hard cot and buried his head 
in his hands. He couldn't believe he'd hit Luthor. What was wrong 
with him anyway? Not that Luthor hadn't deserved it, but Clark 
knew that he couldn't afford to lose control... ever. The only 
thing to be grateful for was that he had not used his 
superstrength or he could have hit Luthor clear into next 
Thursday.

He had no idea what had caused him to hold back on the use of his 
superpowers. He was only grateful that he had. He could be 
sitting here right now contemplating a murder charge - not to 
mention the thought of having to live with taking a human life - 
even if the man in question was Luthor.

He was supposed to be looking for Lois and yet there he was, in a 
small cell, contemplating how dangerous it was for someone with 
his powers to have attacked another human being - even if that 
human being was the most evil and manipulative person Clark had 
ever known.

A noise caused him to look up. He rose to his feet when he saw 
Henderson approaching his cell. He was silent as Henderson 
unlocked the cell door.

"What's going on?" Clark asked.

"Luthor decided to drop the charges."

"I don't want any favors from Luthor," said Clark, sitting back 
down on the edge of his cot and looking defiantly at Henderson.

Henderson let out a breath. "Would you just get out here?"

"I hit him. I deserve to be charged with assault. And the last 
thing I want is to be indebted in any way to that man."

"So do I take it you don't like him?"

Clark's eyebrows shot up. He thought he'd already made his 
feelings about Luthor fairly obvious.

"Dumb question," said Henderson. "Still... he might be an 
arrogant prig, but he is concerned about Lois... just like you 
are."

"The only person Luthor cares about is Luthor. If he wants to 
find Lois, it's because he thinks there's something in it for 
him."

Henderson leaned against the door. "You really don't like him, do 
you? Care to tell me why?"

"Because Luthor is no better than a common criminal. The great 
humanitarian act of his is just that - an act."

"And what were you talking about when you accused Luthor of being 
responsible for Lois' disappearance? Or was that just hyperbole? 
Maybe you just don't like the fact that he's dating Lois." When 
Clark glared at Henderson, the inspector continued. "I've seen 
the society pages. I've seen him and Lane together on those 
pages. So is that what this feud is all about? A couple of 
adolescents having a pissing contest to see which one can impress 
the girl?"

When Clark just glared at him, Henderson continued. "I need to 
know what's going on between you two, Clark. After all, if you're 
not just blowing smoke and Luthor is behind Lois' disappearance, 
this could be an angle worth pursuing. But if this is just some 
vendetta between the two of you, then we could waste a lot of 
time following a dead lead."

"So you're suggesting we investigate him?" asked Clark, rising to 
his feet.

"No. I'm asking you if we need to."

Clark let out a breath, making his way to where Henderson was 
standing. "To tell the truth, Bill, I really don't know. I've got 
reason to believe that Luthor's dirty. But is he behind Lois' 
disappearance? I don't have any reason to suspect he is. Not that 
I think he'd hesitate for a moment to kill her if he thought she 
was a threat to him."

Henderson nodded slowly as he considered that information. "Okay, 
then let's just follow the evidence that we have at the moment 
and see where it takes us. If it looks as if it's leading us 
towards Luthor, then we'll follow it there. If not..." Henderson 
began walking away, leaving the cell door open behind him, 
obviously expecting Clark to follow. When he didn't, Henderson 
turned back around and looked questioningly at Clark.

"I told you. I don't want any favors from Luthor."

Henderson let out a frustrated breath, walking back to the cage. 
"Let me put it this way. Lois Lane is missing. Now you can sit 
there and be all noble and make me waste a lot of time doing 
paperwork or you can get out of here and we can start working our 
butts off to find Lois. Which one is it going to be?"

Clark struggled for a moment with the dilemma before the defiance 
left his expression and he meekly followed the inspector back to 
his office. 

* * * * * * * * *

As Henderson watched Clark get settled in a chair in his office, 
he found himself marveling that the same technique he'd used to 
get Luthor to drop the charges against Kent had worked to get 
Kent to accept Luthor's charity. Unless he very much missed his 
guess, both men, in very different ways, granted, were in love 
with Lois Lane. He wondered if she had known that. 

Kent and Luthor were such completely different men that, had he 
not known Lois Lane, he would have found it hard to imagine the 
woman who could bridge that gap. It was a shame that she was 
probably dead. He could only hope he was not the one who would 
eventually have to force either man to face that fact. But the 
truth was that if Lane were alive, it was likely she would have 
contacted someone by now - more than a day after the events by 
the river and given the fact that her face would be staring back 
at her from every newsstand in the city. Still, since Superman 
had dragged the river and not found a body, operating procedure 
dictated they treat this case as a missing persons/assault with a 
weapon, possibly even an aggravated assault, but not as a 
homicide - at least for the time being. 

"Oh, something I should mention," said Henderson. He waited until 
Clark looked at him before continuing. "I got a call from a 
Mayson Drake at the D.A.'s office this morning. By the way she 
spoke, I got the impression she knows you and Lane."

"I've met her. But she doesn't know Lois."

"Oh. Well, anyway, she said that she wants to be kept up to speed 
on the investigation - something about owing both you and Lane 
for your work on the pheromone case. She said you were both very 
helpful and had it not been for you two, they never would have 
stopped Miranda in time. Anyway, as a result, she wanted to make 
sure that everything was done to try to find Lane and that 
whoever had done this was caught and prosecuted to the full 
extent of the law."

"That's very nice of her," said Clark distractedly. "You 
mentioned something before the whole Luthor incident about having 
pictures for me to... I assume to look at?" he asked instantly 
changing gears, obviously anxious to redirect their energy to the 
search for Lois.

"Right! You remember the kid from last night who saw a couple of 
men looking into the river?"

Clark leaned forward in his chair. "Yeah?" There was definite 
hope in his voice.

"Well, we had him look at hundreds of mug shots and got nowhere. 
But..." Henderson reached into his desk and pulled out a couple 
of drawings. "These are what he came up with when working with 
our sketch artist. I was wondering if you recognized either of 
these men."

Clark took the pictures and studied them carefully before shaking 
his head.

"You're sure? Could either of them be someone you and Lois were 
investigating? Or maybe had investigated?"

"I'm sorry, Bill. But... well, if I can take a copy of them, I'll 
see if anyone at the newsroom recognizes them. If they were 
investigated in the past by Lois, Perry might know who they are."

Henderson nodded his head.

"Anything else you can tell me?" asked Clark.

"Not much. We've still got a couple of irons in the fire, but... 
Well, it isn't looking really good at the moment."

"For example?"

"For example, we're running the bullet we found through 
ballistics to see if we can match it to any other shooting 
incidents. But we don't expect the results back until later 
today."

"Well, since Lois was taking pictures of the suite across from 
the Lexor, is there any way you can get into that suite to 
examine it?"

"Uh... well, we now know that the suite isn't being rented. So 
I'm planning to talk to Bill Church Jr. since he owns the 
building. Hopefully he will give us permission to search the 
suite."

"Would you mind if I go with you?"

Henderson studied Clark for a long moment before responding. 
"It's not standard procedure to involve civilians in our 
investigations. I've been giving you more information than I 
normally would because you're Lane's partner, but..."

"Please, Bill. I'm prepared not to print a word of this 
investigation until you say it's okay, but I have to be 
involved."

Henderson narrowed his eyes. "Can I be sure that you won't lose 
your temper the way you did with Luthor?"

Clark let out a breath. "I promise. I'll be on my best behavior."

Henderson rose from behind his desk, picking up his jacket and 
slipping it on. "So...? Are you coming?"

* * * * * * * * *

Luthor scowled as he read a copy of the police report about the 
shooting on Water Street - at least a copy of those sections not 
currently in Henderson's possession. Nigel had obtained it for 
him while Luthor had been in talking to Henderson. He only looked 
up when his limo came to a stop in front of the Daily Planet. He 
took a moment to compose himself, ensuring that he emanated the 
appropriate amount of worry and concern. He stopped when he 
realized that this was one time when no act was necessary. He was 
sincerely worried about Lois - terrified in fact. And that fear 
had only increased by reading the police file.

He took a deep breath, realizing almost instantly that this fear 
did have its disadvantages. Although it certainly allowed him to 
approach this situation without acting, it also made it difficult 
to think clearly enough to ensure that he benefitted the most 
when Lois was eventually found. And she would be found! If it 
cost him a fortune, she would be found. He would find her. And 
then he'd find a way to ensure that she didn't take such risks in 
the future - even if he had to destroy the Daily Planet to do it.

Still, before he concentrated on that, it was time for him to pay 
an obligatory trip to console the 'grieving father' - Perry 
White. Luthor was certain when Lois was found, White would be the 
best person to tell her how worried Luthor had been. And he 
needed to find a way to get a source in the Daily Planet to 
report back on Kent's investigation.

He waited until the door to the limo was opened by his chauffeur 
before exiting the vehicle and entering the Daily Planet.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark glanced around his environment as he and Henderson stood in 
the entranceway to the luxurious penthouse suite on the top floor 
of the apartment building next to the Lexor. He hadn't seen a 
penthouse as opulent except perhaps on those few occasions when 
he'd been inside Luthor's suite. All around were paintings and 
other works of art which, even to Clark's untrained eyes, 
appeared to be originals - and, without a doubt, very expensive. 
He wondered if Church was a true connoisseur or simply liked to 
be surrounded by the best that money could buy.

"Mr. Church," Henderson said when Bill Church Jr. entered the 
room. "I'm Inspector Bill Henderson. And this is Clark Kent. 
He's..."

"A reporter for the Daily Planet," Junior cut in, offering his 
hand to both men. "I normally don't talk to the press. We have a 
press spokesman for that."

As Clark shook Bill Church's hand, he found himself thinking that 
the man reminded him of Luthor - very rich, very well-spoken, 
very well-dressed, even very good looking. As a result, he 
couldn't tell if the reason he distrusted the man was because he 
was hiding something or if his dislike for Luthor was affecting 
his judgement.

"Mr. Kent has a personal interest here," Henderson said, 
explaining Clark's presence. "And he's assisting me in an 
investigation."

"Uhh... an investigation?" said Church. He gestured Clark and 
Henderson into a sitting area. "I'm always happy to do whatever I 
can to help our boys in blue. So what's this investigation 
about?"

"A missing person," Henderson responded.

Church gestured them to chairs, keeping his eye on Clark. "I 
assume, since Mr. Kent is here, that it's about the disappearance 
of Ms. Lane. I read about it in the Daily Planet this morning. 
Although I'm not sure how I can be of assistance."

Clark met Church's eyes, trying to see if Church showed any 
discomfort. After all, the picture Lois had taken from her hotel 
room had Church in it. But Church's eyes gave nothing away and 
his heart rate remained slow and steady.

"Could you tell us where you were last night?" asked Henderson.

Clark noted that Church's eyes immediately left his and met 
Henderson's. To Clark, he looked genuinely shocked.

"Am I a suspect?" asked Church.

"Not at all. But I imagine you are aware of gunshots fired down 
on the street last night. And knowing where you were could be 
helpful in determining what you might know."

"Is the shooting incident connected to Ms. Lane's disappearance?"

"That's what we're trying to determine."

Clark silently studied his fingernails, wondering if his coming 
had been the wisest decisio