Home V: Obsession
By Nan Smith <hachiban@earthlink.net>
Rated: PG
Submitted: May, 2005

Introduction:  This story is part of the Home series and will make 
more sense to anyone who has not read the previous stories if you 
read the short story, "Home".  Quickly summarized, it is a 
Soulmates-type of story, wherein Lori Lyons is the next 
incarnation of Lois Lane at the end of the 21st Century.

Disclaimer:  The familiar characters and settings in this story 
are not mine.  They belong to DC Comics, Warner Bros., December 
3rd Productions and whoever else may have any legal right to claim 
them, nor am I profiting by their use.  Any new characters, 
settings, and the story, itself, belong to me.

**********

Home V: Obsession
By Nan Smith

The Valentine Festival in Metropolis's Old Town was in full 
swing.  Lori Lyons looked appreciatively up and down the street, 
decorated in cotton-candy pink, candy-apple red and lacy white.  
It was funny to think that when her husband had been a young man, 
Valentine's Day had been a minor holiday.  These days it was an 
important event that was celebrated for a week prior to the actual 
day.  Clark had told her the real history behind that, of course -
- something that wasn't actually covered except as a three-
sentence paragraph in the history books.  The governments of the 
world hadn't wanted it known, for fear of panic, he'd told her, 
and had suppressed the information.  It had been near the end of 
the Decade of Unrest when the birth rate of the planet had dropped 
drastically, due to the work of a deranged New Reich scientist who 
had managed to sterilize three-quarters of the women on Earth.  
The leaders of many nations had gone to great lengths to promote 
an increase in the birth rate, which had resulted in a drastic 
realignment of many of the marriage customs of humanity, and, 
among other things, included elevating Valentine's Day to the 
status of a major holiday.  The chaos of those days was now a 
footnote in the history books but the importance of the holiday 
remained, though few actually knew why.   

Clark Kent escorted his wife into the little bistro and approached 
the reservations desk.

The woman behind the desk was a willowy blond, Lori saw, dressed 
attractively in a low-cut dress of Valentine red that showed off 
her figure to best advantage.  She looked Clark directly in the 
eyes, which, Lori thought, was a distinct improvement over the way 
many women eyed her handsome husband.  She had no doubts 
whatsoever about his faithfulness to her, but she didn't really 
enjoy it when some female stood there ogling him and practically 
drooling while Lori was standing right next to him.  Even then, 
however, the knowledge that he was exclusively *hers*, was a heady 
feeling.

"Yes sir," she said briskly before he spoke.  "Do you have a 
reservation?"

"Yes," Clark said.  "Table for two.  Clark and Lori Kent, for 
eight o'clock."

She glanced at her computer readout.  "Yes, Mr. Kent.  Your table 
will be ready momentarily.  Have a seat and you'll be called."

"Thank you," Clark said.

Lori glanced around appreciatively as he led her into the seating 
area.  "This is nice, Clark."

He smiled down at her.  "It's designed with a late Twentieth 
Century theme," he agreed.  "There are a few inaccuracies, but 
they're pretty minor."  He indicated the single seat available.  
"Sit down, honey.  Would you like something to drink?  They serve 
some really good non-alcoholic cocktails here."

"Sure.  Why don't you get me my usual," she said.

"Be right back."  He made his way to the old-fashioned bar and she 
saw him speaking to the bartender.

She sat back in the padded chair, glancing down at herself and 
feeling slightly self-conscious.  This evening, when Clark had 
announced that he was taking her out for a Valentine's Day dinner, 
she had discovered that the dress clothing that she had chosen was 
too tight around the middle, and every other dressy outfit in her 
possession had the same defect.  Several of her in-laws had 
presented her with maternity clothing, since their announcement of 
the upcoming event, and she had finally decided that the dinner 
dress given to her by Marilyn Olsen would be suitable.  It was a 
beautiful dress, but since it was unquestionably designed for a 
lady in her condition, it advertised to the world that she and 
Clark were now expectant parents.  She hoped she didn't run into 
anyone from the Daily Planet, since they hadn't made the official 
announcement at their place of work yet.  So far she had gotten by 
at the office by wearing loose clothing that concealed the slight 
thickening of her waistline, but it was clear that she was not 
going to be able to hide her incipient motherhood much longer.

Clark's reaction hadn't surprised her for an instant, however.  He 
had taken one long look and produced a wolf whistle, and hadn't 
been able to stop smiling since.

"Here you go."  Clark was standing beside her when she glanced up, 
holding a pair of drinks in his hands.  Hers was an exotic 
tropical concoction, bristling with colorful fruit.  His was a 
more standard Scotch on the rocks, which he sipped with slow 
appreciation.  Lori smiled.  Her husband liked the taste, which 
was why he frequently chose the drink.  The alcohol, of course, 
had no effect on Superman.

"Hey, Clark!"  The cheerful voice was that of Barry Marston, the 
business editor in their office.  Lori sighed.  It looked as if 
Murphy's Law was operating in fine form tonight.  

Clark lifted a hand and Barry spoke to his attractive female 
companion, then the two of them crossed the waiting area to Lori 
and Clark.  Lori folded her hands across her middle and tried to 
be inconspicuous. 

"Hi, Barry."  Clark greeted his coworker cheerfully.  "Out for a 
Valentine dinner?"

"Yep," Barry said.  "This is a friend of mine, Deirdre Monitor.  
Dee, I'd like to introduce you to the Planet's star team of 
investigative reporters.  This is Clark Kent."

Clark extended a hand.  "Pleased to meet you."

Deirdre smiled and took his hand.  Lori caught the barest glance 
as she gave Clark a quick once-over.  Oh well, it wasn't 
surprising, she thought in resignation.  Clark was definitely 
worth looking at.

"And the lovely lady sitting next to him is his wife and partner, 
Lori Lyons," Barry concluded.  He glanced down at Lori with a 
smile, and then took a second look.  Lori took Deirdre's hand to 
acknowledge the introduction, aware that their secret was out.

Barry's eyebrows went up.  "So, Clark; I see you and Lori have 
been keeping the office in the dark."

Lori felt her face burning.  Clark smiled with just a hint of 
pride.  "We were planning on making the announcement in a couple 
of weeks."

Deirdre smiled at Lori.  "Congratulations.  When is the baby due?"

"The first week in July," Clark said.

"Boy or girl?" Deirdre asked.

"Don't know," Clark said.  "Lori wanted it to be a surprise."

Barry grinned.  "Don't blame you.  This is great.  There's been a 
pool going for months about when you two were going to start a 
family.  Looks like I won."

Lori couldn't help laughing.  "Why does everyone hear about these 
things but me?"

Clark laughed too.  "Us, honey.  I didn't know about it either."  
He turned back to Barry.  "Do you mind not mentioning this until 
we make the announcement?  It won't be more than a few days."

Barry grinned.  "Not a problem," he said.  "I won't breathe a 
word."

"Kent, party of two," a voice announced.  "Your table is ready."

"Wups, that's us," Clark said.  He gave Lori a hand up.  "See you 
later, Barry.  It was nice meeting you, Ms. Monitor." 

"It was nice meeting *you*," Deirdre said.  "Have a nice dinner."

**********

"It was a wonderful evening, Clark," Lori said, as they touched 
down on the carpet of their living room.  Clark floated upward to 
close the skylight again and dropped beside her.  "You pamper me."

He grinned, beginning to peel off her coat.  "I like pampering 
you.  And the evening isn't over yet.  This *is* a Valentine's Day 
celebration you know."

"Just what I was thinking," Lori said.  Her hand gravitated to the 
top button of his jacket.  "In a few months things will be 
different.  We won't be able to just do this kind of thing 
whenever we feel like it.  I want to make the most of our time 
until then."

He leaned forward to kiss her.  "I agree.  You're not regretting 
that we're starting our family so early, are you?"

"Of course not," Lori said.  "Still, it's going to be a big 
change.  It will take a little getting used to, but --"  She 
rested her hand over her abdomen.  "I *want* to have your little 
boy or girl, Clark.  I just can't believe sometimes that I've been 
so lucky.  You won't think I'm ugly when I get farther along, will 
you?  Some of the guys I used to know never wanted to have kids 
because they couldn't stand the way women looked when they were 
pregnant."

He leaned down and cut off the rest of what she might have been 
going to say with a thorough kiss.  "Not on your life, 
sweetheart.  Just the thought of you with my baby growing there 
..."  He put his hand over hers.  "It's a real turn on.  I think 
it makes you sexier than ever, and you weren't exactly a slouch in 
that department before.  It's all I can do to keep my hands off 
you when we're in public."

Lori discovered that somewhere between the beginning of his 
sentence and the end they had made the transition to the bedroom, 
and from clothed to unclothed, and giggled breathlessly before his 
mouth descended on hers again.  There were definite advantages to 
being married to Superman, she thought.  But then, she'd been of 
that opinion for some time.

**********

Lori finished her article just under the deadline, sent it on to 
John Olsen for editing and leaned back in her chair, stretching 
her arms above her head.  Her neck and shoulders were stiff and 
her head was throbbing in time to her heartbeat.  She pinched the 
bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, willing the pain to abate.

It was late afternoon and she was definitely looking forward to 
going home and catching a nap.  She would never admit it to Clark, 
but besides the fact that she seemed to be unable to pass a deli 
or a candy machine without stopping to buy some form of edible, 
she was also tired most of the time.  

Rhonda Klein, besides being a family practitioner, also maintained 
a small, private obstetrical practice, which consisted of herself 
and three other members of the Kent clan, for a select group of 
clients: the members of the Superman family.  She had adopted Lori 
as her own personal patient at Clark's request, and Lori had 
become much better acquainted with Clark's granddaughter as a 
result.  Rhonda had explained to her that super-babies required 
extra nutrients and a lot of energy from their mother.  This 
wasn't a problem when the mother in question was one of those with 
the super powers, but when, like Lori, the mother had no super 
powers, it was necessary for her to eat a great deal more than 
would be recommended for the mother of a non-super baby.  It was 
also necessary that she rest a good deal, and take extra vitamins 
for the developing fetus.  Her grandfather, Bernard Klein, had 
determined these facts when Clark and Lois had first come to him 
to ask for help with Lois's pregnancy, and had developed the 
routine that was now standard for the mothers of future super-
powered children.

Lori did her best to follow the guidelines but there were times, 
like today, when the demands of her job were intense.  She had 
attended a political fundraiser for Metropolis's local congressman 
who was now making a run for the Senate, and had scheduled an 
appointment for a personal interview on the following day.  Then 
she had reported on an emergency at one of the local power plants, 
which had shut down, leaving over a million people without power.  
Then she had raced to a location in a section of Metropolis not 
far from the apartment that she had rented for the first few 
months that she had been employed at the Daily Planet.  A resident 
had discovered the body of a woman barely half a block from the 
Hobs Health and Fitness Center where Lori and Clark had just 
enrolled in the Expectant Parents Fitness Class.  Following that, 
she had hardly had time to send her report in to the rewrite desk 
when there had been a police chase involving the occupants of a 
stolen aircar who had refused to surrender. When the car had been 
brought down in the bay by a nullifier in the hands of the police, 
it turned out that the fugitives were a child abductor and his 
girlfriend, whose latest victim was locked in the trunk of the 
car.  The two-year-old had nearly drowned before the SWAT team 
managed to take the felons into custody and search the car for the 
missing child.

Superman had been involved in a massive search and rescue 
operation in the Sierra Nevada and had been unable to help her, so 
Lori had done the job for both of them, but now the stress of the 
day descended on her full force.  The terror of the little boy 
tore at her, and although he had been unharmed in the end, her own 
incipient motherhood gave her a more personal view of the incident 
than she had ever had before.  By the time she had returned to the 
Daily Planet she had developed a throbbing headache.  She had had 
plenty of those recently.  Rhonda had told her they were due to 
stress and fatigue, and to give herself more rest and recuperation 
time, but that was going to have to come later.

A hand set a cup of coffee -- light on the caffeine, heavy on the 
chocolate -- down on her desk.  She glanced up to see her editor 
gazing at her with concern.  "Are you all right, Lori?"

She nodded and then regretted it as the throbbing in her temples 
increased.  John Olsen eyed her closely.  "No, you're not.  You're 
off for the day.  Now."

She pinched the bridge of her nose again and squinted up at him 
through the sparks that seemed to be shooting through her range of 
vision.  "Did anyone ever tell you how much like Clark you are?" 
she mumbled.

"Well, that's not surprising, considering," he said.  "In my 
office.  There's a very comfortable couch in there and you can 
take advantage of it for a while.  March."

When her boss spoke like that, Lori knew better than to argue.  
She got carefully to her feet, feeling as if her head was going to 
explode, and made her way toward the Editor's Office, aware of the 
fact that several persons were giving her odd looks.  Andrea 
Waltham took a couple of steps toward her.

"Are you all right, Lori?"  The society columnist sounded 
uncharacteristically concerned.  It wasn't surprising.  Up until 
the last couple of months, Lori had never complained about 
anything, including a roughing up by a pair of muggers on the 
slidewalk.

"Migraine," John Olsen said, briefly, answering for her.

Andrea made a face.  "Ooh."

John was right.  The couch looked incredibly inviting.  Lori 
settled carefully down on it and gave a faint sigh of relief.  She 
was barely aware of John leaving his office and closing the door 
behind him.

"Lori?"  Her husband's voice woke her some time later.  She 
blinked up into his concerned face, thankfully aware of the fact 
that the blinding headache was gone.

"Hi," she murmured.  "Did you find him?"

"Huh?"

"The hiker." 

"Oh, yeah.  He'd holed up in a cave and was fine.  Are you?"

"Yeah."  She sat up, rubbing her eyes.  "I guess I was tired."

"John said you had a bad headache."

She shrugged.  "Yeah.  I'm okay, Clark.  I probably need to get 
more rest, like Rhonda said."

"Hmm."  He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the 
subject.  "I think the time has come."

"Time for what?"

"For the announcement."  He gave her a hand up from the couch.  
"Do you want to make it public, or just start mentioning it?"

"I'd rather not make a big fuss."

He nodded.  "Why am I not surprised?  Low key seems to be your 
watchword.  Okay, but from now on it's official.  Ready to go 
home?"   

"I guess so," she said, "since I'm not going to be allowed to do 
anything else, anyway."

"You finished your articles, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Then there isn't anything else to do.  Let's go."

"Did you finish your piece on the rescue operation?"

"All done."  He smiled at her.  "Taking care of yourself now 
doesn't mean you're not as good a reporter as you always were, 
honey.  It just means you have to be a little easier on yourself 
in the immediate future.  You have a healthy baby to grow.  That's 
at least as important as getting a story."

"I guess you're right.  I'm sorry, Clark."

He put an arm around her.  "You really don't need to prove 
anything, you know.  Everybody knows the kind of investigative 
journalist you are."

"My mother doesn't," Lori muttered.

Clark frowned.  "When did you talk to her last?"

"Yesterday."  Lori ducked her head.  "She thinks I'm going to let 
my professional credentials slide because of the baby.  There was 
some friend of hers who had to take extended medical leave until 
her baby was born because of a threatened miscarriage.  I guess I 
wanted to show I could still do the job as well as ever."

"Hmm."  Clark didn't answer but there was a slight frown on his 
face.  "Look, honey, your job is in no danger, but if you aren't 
careful you could hurt yourself.  You're pregnant with a half-
Kryptonian baby, and you need to cut yourself some slack.  Your 
mom doesn't understand the unusual circumstances here.  I'm sure 
she wouldn't want you to have complications because you were 
trying to prove a point.  Even Rhonda took things a little easier 
while Oliver was on the way."

"I know.  I'm sorry, Clark."

He hugged her.  "No, I am.  I should have been here to help."

She shook her head.  "You were where you needed to be.  I'll try 
not to let Mom's hangups affect me after this.  I know better; I 
just wasn't thinking."

They were in the elevator when Lori's wrist talker beeped.  She 
lifted it to her lips.  "Lori Lyons."

"Lori?" her mother's voice said.

"Hi, Mom."

"Your father and I wanted to let you know that we're going to be 
in Metropolis for four days, starting tomorrow.  Your father has a 
conference to attend, and we're celebrating our anniversary during 
Metropolis's Valentine Festival."

She cast a despairing look at her husband.  "Will you be staying 
with us?"

Rob Lyons's voice chimed in, "No, we're staying at the Lexor, but 
we'd like to see you while we're in town."

"I'm sure we can arrange that," Clark said.  "Lori and I will be 
working all the rest of the week, but we can meet for lunch or 
dinner.  Would you like us to pick you up at the shuttleport?"

"No, there's a car reserved for us," Rob said.  "We'll be in 
tonight at around twelve, so it would be a little late for you to 
meet us."

"Give us a call when you get here," Lori said.

"We will," Mariann said.  "I'd like to see your place of work 
while we're there, Lori.  I've never seen the headquarters of the 
Daily Planet before."

"No problem," Clark said.  "I'll tell John we'll be bringing you 
by."

When her parents had signed off, Lori leaned back against the 
elevator wall.  "Oh, this is just great."

**********

Lori awoke at the insistent chiming of the vidphone.  Clark's side 
of the bed was empty, although the imprint of his head was on the 
pillow.  It looked like his Superman duties had called him away.  
She sat up.

"Answer," she told the vidphone.

The screen lit up with the faces of her mother and father.  "Hi, 
Mom; hi, Dad.  I guess you're here."

"We're at the Lexor," Rob said.  "Room 2768."  He appeared to be 
looking past her.  "Where's Clark?"

"He's meeting a source," Lori said, automatically.

Her mother's eyebrows went up.  "At this hour?"

Lori told herself not to bristle at the implied criticism.  That 
was just her mother's way with anything that didn't meet her own 
set of expectations.  "Some of our sources don't work nine to five 
jobs, Mom.  Some of them won't show their faces by daylight.  I'll 
give you a call in the morning and we can arrange to meet for 
lunch, all right?"

"That will be fine," her father said.  "Good night, honey."

Five minutes later she heard a whoosh and an instant later Clark 
walked into the bedroom and made a beeline for the shower, leaving 
the scent of chemicals and combustion behind him.  Lori lay down 
and waited.  She heard the shower come on, then go off, and a 
moment later, he stepped out of the bathroom, a short towel around 
his hips.  Lori wolf-whistled.

"Thank you, madam," he said, reaching for his sleeping shorts.  
"Your appreciation is appreciated."

His skin was cool and slightly damp when he slipped into the bed 
beside her, and his hair smelled of shampoo.

"Messy job?" she inquired.

"Chemical spill in the harbor," he told her.  "Fortunately Henry 
and I were able to get it all mopped up before it could go very 
far."

"What happened?"

"A freighter collided with a barge.  The freighter was carrying 
volatile chemicals and started leaking."

Lori grabbed her recorder from its spot on her nightstand.  "Let's 
have the details, Superman."

He gave her a succinct description of the event and the names of 
the ships involved.  Lori asked several pertinent questions, 
tapped into her database to fill in the background, and a moment 
later transmitted the story to the night editor at the Planet 
under the Kent-Lyons byline.  Finished with her task, she snuggled 
down in her husband's arms.  "Mom and Dad called while you were 
out.  You were meeting a source," she said.  "Better make sure you 
know who you were meeting when Mom quizzes you about it."

"Will she?"

"Count on it."

He chuckled.  "It's a good thing I went through this with Lois's 
mom," he said.  "I got pretty fast on my feet."

"That would have been Ellen Lane, right?" she asked.

"That's right.  Ellen was definitely an education for a naïve kid 
from Kansas."  He settled his pillow at a more comfortable angle 
and re-adjusted his arms around her.  "She and my mom were like 
night and day.  My mom figured I knew my own business best and 
only gave advice if I asked for it.  Ellen loved Lois but didn't 
know how to show it, and it always came out as criticism.  It 
drove Lois crazy."

"Sort of like Mother," Lori said.  "At least she didn't scare you 
off."

"Not a chance," Clark said.  "The only person who could have 
gotten rid of me was you."

"I wish I'd known your parents," Lori said, wistfully.  "I think 
I'd have liked them."

"They'd have loved you," Clark said.  "Just as they loved Lois.  I 
still miss them sometimes."

Lori put an arm across his middle, resting her head on his 
muscular chest.  "Well, maybe their souls came back the way Lois's 
did," she said.  "If it could happen to me, maybe it happens to 
other people too."

"I'll have to tell you about that sometime," he said softly.  "But 
that's a subject for another time.  Good night now, honey."

"Good night," she said.  "But don't think you're going to get away 
without explaining after a remark like that."

"I wouldn't dream of it.  Go to sleep."

********* 

Lori and Clark had barely stepped out of the elevator on the 
newsroom floor when John Olsen opened the door to his office.  
"Staff meeting in Conference Room One in ten minutes!"

"Sounds like the day is off and running," Lori said.

Clark helped her remove her coat and hung it with his on the coat 
rack.  "Did I tell you today that you look beautiful, honey?"

Lori glanced down at the trim, fashionable maternity business 
ensemble that she had put on this morning.  It did look smart, she 
had to agree, but it also left no doubt about her condition.  Of 
course that was one of the reasons that Clark was more 
appreciative than usual of her appearance.  "I think you said so 
six or seven times, but you can say it again if you like," she 
said.

Andrea, crossing the pit, nearly fell over her feet with a double 
take as Clark and Lori passed her on the way to their desks.  
"Lori?"

"Good morning, Andrea," Clark said, and Lori could swear that his 
chest stuck out just a little bit farther than usual as the 
society columnist took in Lori's outfit.

Andrea's lips split in a wide smile.  "Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Lori said.  "We decided after yesterday that there was 
no point in trying to hide it anymore."

"I guess not.  I was kind of wondering, what with all those loose 
outfits you've been wearing recently.  This is wonderful.  When is 
the baby due?"

"The first week of July."  Clark put an arm around Lori's waist.

Andrea laughed.  "I guess this should cool Brendon's jets.  He was 
figuring your contract would be up soon.  I told him he was nuts, 
but he didn't believe me."

Lori glanced at Clark in surprise.  "Brendon?"

"Oh sure.  He's been talking about wanting to try his luck with 
you," Andrea said with a wider grin.  "He's had his eye on you 
since the Mayflower investigation.  He figures you're his shortcut 
to a Kerth."

"Just to end the speculation," Clark said, "Lori and I have a 
lifetime contract.  She won't be available in the foreseeable 
future."

"I thought as much," Andrea said.  She nudged Lori.  "Nice work, 
honey.  If I'd caught one like him, I'd have tied him up for life, 
too."

Lori could feel her face burning, but Andrea winked at her and 
crossed to her desk to retrieve a sheaf of hardcopy before she 
headed for the conference room.

Lori and Clark stopped at their desks to deposit their briefcases 
and for Lori to pick up her palm computer.  As the conference room 
door slid open in front of them, Greg, the new hire on the city 
beat, glanced at Lori.  "Been eating watermelons, Lyons?" 

Lori didn't answer.  Greg was unofficially the "office wit" and 
everyone came in for his share of ribbing.  Unfortunately, her 
ravenous appetite had provoked more than the usual amount of jabs 
aimed at her seeming inability to pass the doughnut box or the 
candy machine without stopping to get something to eat and the 
joke was beginning to wear thin.  Clark pulled out a chair for her 
without comment and departed to get them both coffee.

Barry Marston glanced at Lori and grinned.  "I'm a lot richer 
today thanks to Lori," he remarked.  "Too bad, Greg.  Better luck 
next time."

**********

John Olsen had seated himself at the head of the conference table 
in anticipation of the meeting, and was watching his staff filter 
in.

Clark Kent and Lori Lyons entered the room, and John raised his 
eyebrows a fraction of an inch in reaction to the fact that today 
she hadn't dressed in the loose clothing that she had taken to 
wearing lately to disguise her thickening waistline.  Instead, the 
trim, professional suit that she was wearing was unmistakably 
designed for an expectant mother.  It looked as if it was finally 
official, and about time too.  Clark somehow looked taller today 
as he escorted Lori past several of the other occupants of the 
newsroom and John had to work not to chuckle.  His great-
grandfather might be the one and only Superman, but in most ways 
he was like every other man John knew.  He had a beautiful wife, 
who made him the envy of most other men, and a baby on the way, 
and was understandably proud of it.

Clark pulled out a chair for Lori and made sure she was seated 
comfortably before he headed for the snack table in search of 
coffee and doughnuts for both of them.  John looked down at his 
palm notebook to keep from grinning as Clark selected his usual 
plain cake doughnut along with a thick chocolate one with 
chocolate icing and chocolate sprinkles for Lori.  He returned 
with the items and two cups of coffee a moment later and set his 
offerings in front of her.  She accepted them with a smile, and 
John saw her bat her eyelashes playfully at her husband.  John had 
to work harder to keep his face solemn.  Little did Lori know the 
difference that she had made in Clark Kent's life.

Clark had always been an outstanding reporter, but since Lois's 
death Clark seemed to have lost the joy of living that had always 
characterized him during John's younger years -- until Lori Lyons 
had burst onto the scene.  John had seen Clark come suddenly and 
magically to life in a way that he hadn't known for a very long 
time, and it had given the Daily Planet a crack team of 
investigative reporters the like of which the news service hadn't 
seen since the days of Lane and Kent.  There had been good ones, 
to be sure, but none of their caliber.  Even more remarkable, it 
had taken his somewhat grim and obsessive ancestor and made him 
young again.  John liked the transformation.

Slowly, the remaining people filtered in and finally John rapped 
on the table for attention.

"Okay, people, let's get this show on the road," he announced, 
parking his elbows on the table.  He glanced at Barney Farrel.  
"What's the word at City Hall?"

Barney rubbed his nose.  "The City Council is still wrangling over 
the allocation of money," he reported.  "Measure A provided funds 
for the city's repair of the sewer system, but there's a move to 
postpone that in order to transfer funding to construction of a 
new stadium for the Tigers, and they're already talking about 
another initiative for this year's ballot to make up the funding  
..."

"Make sure you bring that out in your article.  The next time 
there's a sewer blowup in downtown Metropolis, they're going to 
want more money to fix it.  We're supposed to be the watchdogs for 
these people," John said.  "They've been playing fast and loose 
with the taxpayers' money for long enough."

"Wasn't there supposed to be some kind of accounting measure that 
would prevent the City Council from diverting the funds again?" 
Clark asked.  "I could have sworn that was on the ballot when they 
were pushing the initiative two years ago."

"Tell that to *them*," Barney said.  "This has happened six years 
in a row.  They always promise to use the money to fix the system, 
and it always goes somewhere else -- and they've always got a good 
excuse.  Once the money is in the General Fund, there's nothing to 
prevent them from using it any way they want."

John figuratively shook his head.  Fixing the sewer system, of 
course, wasn't nearly as glamorous as building a new stadium, but 
if it didn't work correctly the city would have big problems.  "I 
think it's time we called them to account," he said.  "I imagine 
those aren't the only funds they've diverted for other projects.  
I want you to dig a little deeper.  That's your main assignment 
while you're covering the rest of the happenings at City Hall.  
It's high time the City Council tended to the city's business.  
It's an election year; maybe we can use that to get some 
concessions out of them." 

Barney nodded, his expression brightening slightly.  He had wanted 
award-winning assignments and ended up with the sewer system 
story.  Not exactly something that a reporter thought of as Kerth 
material, John knew.  Now, however, if he could prove fiscal 
irresponsibility and/or mismanagement and maybe even corruption at 
City Hall it could lead to better things for his career.  John 
turned to Kent and Lyons.  Lori was munching on her doughnut, 
making notes on her palm computer with her free hand.  "Lori, I 
want a follow-up on that child abduction, yesterday," he told 
her.  "Wasn't the guy a repeat offender?"

She nodded.  "Three time offender, on parole, subject to good 
behavior.  I already called Lieutenant Chow this morning.  I have 
an interview with Timmy's parents right after lunch, and one with 
Moore's lawyer this afternoon."

"Good.  Now, the story on the Jane Doe over on Unger Street ..."

"They've identified her.  My source is supposed to call me back 
with more details later."

"All right.  Don't let him forget.  Now, about the story you were 
on, Clark: the missing hiker ..."

"I'll have the follow-up for you by this afternoon," Clark said.

"Now, politics.  Congressman Bradford ..."

"His secretary called me this morning," Lori said.  "They're 
postponing the interview because of an 'unforeseen commitment'."  
She grinned slightly.  "I know when a politician's avoiding me.  
Don't worry, I'm not going to let him wiggle out of it.  I'll keep 
after him, and if he keeps dodging me, I'll let him know that I 
intend to write an article about how he's afraid of an interview 
... more delicately phrased, of course.  He'll talk to me."

John hid a grin.  Lori had grown a good deal more self-confident 
in the time she had been at the Planet.  Congressman Bradford 
didn't stand a chance of avoiding her.  "Andrea, the allegations 
about Councilman Waters' relationship with the call girl?"

"He's denying them," Andrea said.  "I have a meeting with my 
source in an hour.  She claims he hired the girls from her ... 
association ... to entertain at private political events, and that 
she has the proof.  We'll see what she has."

"Just make sure that we're not open to a lawsuit over it."

Andrea tossed her platinum head.  "Leave it to me."

John nodded briefly, beginning to grill the Events editor on his 
feature in the evening edition.

John's wrist talker vibrated slightly and he paused for a moment 
to tap the "accept" button.  "Olsen."

"Mr. Olsen," a male voice said, "this is Bill Verney, in the lobby 
-- Security, sir.  There are a Robert and Mariann Lyons here to 
see the newsroom.  They claim to be relatives of Ms. Lyons."

"Yes, thank you," John said.  "Send them up."  He glanced at 
Lori.  "Your parents are on their way up.  We'll be done in a few 
minutes."  He tapped his wrist talker.  "Ned!  Lori's mother and 
father are on their way up.  Show them her desk and get them some 
coffee and doughnuts until we're through."

Lori nodded.  "Thanks," she said.  "They wanted to see where I 
worked while they were in Metropolis."

"No problem."  John returned to his cross-examination of the 
Events editor.  Finally, he closed his palm computer.  "Okay, that 
about covers it.  Conyors, make sure your sources about the former 
Prime Minister's sex change are absolutely reliable.  We don't 
want to be open to a lawsuit.  And get the details on the wedding 
next month."

"Will do, Chief."

John stood up.  "Let's get a move on, people.  We have some space 
to fill up."

**********

Mariann and Robert Lyons stepped out of the elevator and looked 
around the newsroom.  It seemed oddly quiet, Mariann thought, 
compared to the representations of news offices that she had seen 
on the vidscreen.

A slender young man approached them with a tentative smile.  "Are 
you Ms. Lyons' parents?"

Robert nodded.  "Yes."

"I'm Ned.  Mr. Olsen told me to show you where she works.  They're 
in the morning meeting right now.  It should be over in a few 
minutes."

"I see.  Well, lead on."  Robert glanced around the huge space.  
"So this is the Daily Planet."

Mariann followed their guide down a short ramp and across the big 
office.  Ned escorted them to a pair of desks sitting at right 
angles to one another, separated by some space from the others, 
and Mariann saw Lori's name on one of the desks.  The other 
belonged to Clark Kent, she noted.

Mariann sighed.  It was too bad that her daughter had seen fit to 
marry, but Lori had always been headstrong.  She sincerely hoped 
that her unfortunate marriage to Clark wouldn't adversely impact 
her career.  Still, Robert was right.  Mariann hadn't appreciated 
her father's attempt to force her into the life that he had wanted 
for her, and although she would never mistreat Lori as her father 
had mistreated her, Robert had pointed out that Lori's idea of 
what was best for her might not coincide with Mariann's.  If she 
really loved Lori, she would let her live her own life the way she 
wanted, rather than try to force their daughter into her own 
mold.  Such a course, her husband had said mildly, would be bound 
to push Lori into a full-scale revolt and might end up with her 
excluding them from her life.  She loved her daughter and wouldn't 
wish that, but she couldn't help wanting the best for her.  It was 
unfortunate that what Lori considered the best for herself 
included Clark Kent.  Clark was a charming man and Mariann 
couldn't help liking him, but his presence in Lori's life was 
bound to hold her back.

A door at the rear of the room opened and a crowd of people 
spilled out.  Mariann recognized John Olsen, the editor.  Clark 
Kent let Lori exit ahead of him, and Mariann blinked at her 
daughter's crisply professional image.  She looked a good five 
years older than she had appeared the last time they had spoken on 
the vidphone.  Even the business suit designed for an expectant 
mother failed to subtract from her air of competence.  She waved 
to them, spoke to her husband, and crossed the floor to her desk.

"Hi, Mom and Dad," she greeted them.  "You're here early."

"We wanted to have a chance to see you before you went off to do 
whatever you do during the day," Mariann said.  She glanced around 
as Ned reappeared with the doughnut plate.  "Why, thank you."

Lori helped herself to a chocolate doughnut.  "Have one.  Who's 
got the doughnut run this morning, Ned?"

"I do, Ms. Lyons.  Is there anything in particular that you'd 
like?"

She nodded, picking up her shoulder bag.  "If you could get me a 
box of assorted doughnuts and pastries, I'd appreciate it.  Half 
chocolate," she added.  "Just leave it on my desk if I'm not 
here."

"Of course."  Ned smiled, accepting the bills she held out to 
him.  "Oh, by the way, congratulations."

"Thank you," she said.

Ned departed in the direction of the editor's office.  Mariann 
glanced after him.  "Are you sure you should be eating all that 
sweet stuff, Lori?  As I recall when I was expecting, the doctor 
made me watch my calorie intake very strictly.  It won't do you 
any good to have a hundred pounds of weight to lose after the 
baby's born, you know."

Lori didn't answer.  She bit into the doughnut.  "Come on," she 
said, "let me give you the grand tour.  I'm expecting a call from 
a source in a few minutes, and I have to get hold of Congressman 
Bradford's secretary to reschedule an interview.  He ducked out on 
me, earlier.  I have a few questions to ask him about some of the 
local issues that he's been dodging questions on for weeks.  If 
he's going to run for Senator of New Troy, he's going to have to 
give the people of the state a few answers."

She led the way across the room.  "This is Mr. Olsen's office.  
You know he's our Editor-in-Chief, of course.  And over here we 
have the Business desk.  This is Barry Marston, our business 
editor ..."

Mariann followed her daughter around the room, a little stunned at 
her brisk confidence, and at the obvious liking and respect 
accorded her by her colleagues.  Her daughter seemed almost like a 
different person here in her own environment.  Was this the Lori 
Lyons that her peers saw every day?  Unexpectedly she felt the 
urge to sigh in regret.  Her baby wasn't a little girl anymore.  
She had grown up and, married or not, was obviously the success 
that Mariann had wanted her to be.

"These are pictures of some of the Daily Planet's most famous 
reporting teams over the last century and a half," Lori was 
saying.  "This is Norcross and Judd, receiving an award, and 
across from them is the team of Lane and Kent ..."

Mariann raised her eyebrows at the name and looked more closely at 
the picture.  "He'd look a lot like your husband, if not for the 
glasses," she observed, indicating the man in the picture.

"That's the first Clark Kent and his wife, Lois Lane," Lori said.  
"They're receiving a Kerth in that picture.  It was taken in 
1998.  Clark's family has a lot of ties to the Daily Planet."  She 
added, "A Kerth is an award for outstanding investigative 
journalism, like the one they gave Clark and me last year.  Ours 
was for our investigation of the theft of the Westhaven diamonds a 
few months after I came to work at the Planet.  We've been 
nominated for one this year, too, but the results won't be 
announced for another month."

"I thought that was a Meriwether Award," Mariann said.

Lori shook her head.  "No, we were nominated for one of those, 
too, but the Herald beat us out."

Robert had leaned forward to look at the picture more closely.  
"She looks a little like you," he observed, "only a few years 
older.  Did you say Lois *Lane*?"

Lori nodded.  "They were one of the Planet's top reporting teams."

"That's interesting," Robert said.  "My Great-grandmother Lucy's 
maiden name was Lane.  I wonder if there's any relation."

"It's possible," Mariann said.  "It would probably account for the 
resemblance.  So, Lori, have you given in and asked about the 
baby's sex yet?"

Lori shook her head.  "No.  Clark and I want it to be a 
surprise."  She finished the last of the doughnut and glanced 
around as her husband approached. 

Clark nodded cheerfully at Mariann and Robert.  "How are you this 
morning?"

"Fine," Robert said.  "We're going to be touring Metropolis's Old 
Town.  I have a business meeting this afternoon at the Lexor, and 
then I'm free until tomorrow.  How are you, Clark?"

"Fine," Clark said.  "If you go to Old Town, be sure you check out 
the Bazaar.  They have some terrific shops there that sell custom 
jewelry, pottery, exotic candles and incense ... and, of course, 
souvenirs.  Just watch out for some of the merchants.  They're 
sharks."

"We plan to," Robert said.  "We wanted to see where the two of you 
work, though, early enough so as not to interfere with your jobs."

"Lori and I are an investigative team, so we don't have to worry 
particularly about set hours," Clark said.  "Has Lori shown you 
everything?"

"Well, not everything," Lori said, "but most of it."  Her wrist 
talker beeped at that moment, and she stepped away from the three 
of them.  "Excuse me.  Lori Lyons," she said to whoever was 
calling.

Mariann fell silent as Robert and Clark exchanged small talk, and 
strained her ears to hear her daughter's conversation.

"... Victim was an instructor at the Hobs Fitness Center," the 
voice from the wrist talker said.  "I'll email you the 
information."

"I'd appreciate that," Lori said.  "Thanks."

"No problem."  The caller signed off and Lori returned to Mariann 
and the two men.

"That was my contact at police headquarters," Lori said to her 
husband.  "She's sending me the information about yesterday's 
stabbing victim."

Clark glanced at his chronometer.  "I have a call to make, too."  
He turned back to Robert.  "Should we make a date to see you at 
lunch or dinner?"

"Lunch would be nice," Mariann said.  "Do you have a 
recommendation?"

"Mamacita's is excellent if you like Mexican food," Clark said.  
"Or, if you'd like a nice family restaurant, Kerry's is a good 
one."

"That sounds like it would be best," Mariann said.  "What time 
should we meet?"

"How about eleven?" Lori said.  "Clark can give you the address.  
We'll phone in, and be sure they have a table for all of us."  She 
glanced at her wrist talker.  "I need to pick up that email from 
my contact at Metro PD."

"You're not getting into anything dangerous, are you?" Mariann 
asked, while her husband was writing down the address of the 
restaurant.  As much as she wanted her daughter to make a success 
of herself, the thought of her dealing with anything violent was 
frightening.  The memory of the Christmas Killer still made her 
blood run cold.  Somehow, when she'd dreamed about her youngest 
daughter's brilliant future career, she hadn't envisioned Lori 
being involved with anything risky, but then, she had wanted Lori 
to be an attorney.  Lori had unequivocally turned the idea down 
and all Mariann's further arguments had had no effect. 

Lori shrugged at the question.  "I doubt it," she said.  "There 
was a knifing last night over in the area of my old apartment.  
It's a seedy part of town.  Anyhow, I'm just doing the follow-up 
on it today.  I don't really expect to be chasing down any muggers 
or anything."

"Don't worry," Clark said.  "Most of this stuff is just dull 
research."                                                        
                                                                  
                                                                  
                                                                  
                                                                  
                                                                  
                                                                  
                                                                  
             

Robert took her arm.  "Come on, dear," he said calmly, "let's 
leave Lori and Clark to do their job."

Mariann turned reluctantly toward the elevator.  The urge to warn 
her daughter to be careful was strong, but then the greatest risk 
that Mariann had ever taken on her own behalf was to run away from 
home at the age of sixteen.  Lori, on the other hand, and, of 
course, Clark Kent, had helped foil the sabotage of the first star 
ship, assisted in the recovery of an internationally famous 
jewelry collection and Lori had actually caught a dangerous pair 
of drug dealers single-handedly, and saved the life of John 
Olsen's daughter.  She and her husband regularly made headline 
news that was picked up by the other news services.  Somehow, 
cautioning her to be careful seemed inadequate.  Much as she hated 
to admit it, Lori Lyons of the Daily Planet was already the 
success that Mariann had wanted her to be.  Happily married and 
with a baby on the way, she seemed to have it all.  Her only real 
problem seemed to be the fact that she ate enough for three 
women.  She had never appeared to worry about her weight, but 
Mariann had noticed at the Christmas party that Lori's appetite 
seemed to be completely out of control.  She really needed to 
speak to her about it.  If nothing else, her husband wouldn't 
appreciate it if she gained so much weight that she lost her 
svelte figure.  Men tended to regard a woman's physical appearance 
as important, Mariann knew.  Much as she disapproved of her 
daughter's marriage, Lori would be heartbroken to lose him.  She 
had to do something before that happened.

**********

"That went well," Clark said hopefully a short time later, as the 
elevator doors closed behind Lori's parents.

"So far," Lori said, with a certain cynicism.  "Let me check my 
email, then we can head over to that first interview.  Moira said 
she'd send me the details on the stabbing over by my old 
apartment."  She took her seat in front of the computer and called 
up the email.  "Let's see what we have ..."  She leaned forward, 
reading the information on her screen.  "Not much here.  Name, 
age, occupation.  No suspects, at least so far."

Clark read over her shoulder.  "A woman was killed over by your 
old apartment?  Have I mentioned that I'm glad you moved out of 
there when you did?"

"A few times," Lori said.  "Anyhow, since I was there when the 
call came in, I covered it.  It happened about half a block from 
the Hobs Fitness Center, where she worked.  Remind me not to go 
walking around there after dark."

"Maybe we should have signed up at a different fitness club," 
Clark said. 

"Maybe, but you know why I wanted this one," Lori said.  "Connor's 
an old friend of mine.  He graduated a year before I did, but he 
worked for the NTSU Clarion while I was the editor."  She 
grinned.  "He wrote the exercise advice column.  'Fitness and You' 
by Connor Cooper."

"What kind of parents would give their child a name like that?" 
Clark said.  

"I always wondered about that, myself," Lori said.  "Name or not, 
though, he's a very good instructor, and he's really working to 
get his health club off the ground -- in a business sense of 
course."  She picked up her shoulder bag and stood up.  "Let's 
go."

"Lead the way." Clark retrieved her coat from the rack as they 
passed it on the way to the stairs.

He held the coat for her while they waited for the elevator.  "So 
I guess you want to help him?" he remarked.

"Well, since I know him, and I'm a 'famous journalist' --"  She 
rolled her eyes.  "-- At least according to him, I thought a 
little publicity for his business venture couldn't hurt.  You 
know, take the maternal fitness course and write up my experiences 
in the class."

There was a soft chime and a door in the bank of elevators opened 
invitingly for them.  Clark let Lori enter first and followed 
her.  It was empty, and Clark took the opportunity to slide an arm 
around Lori's shoulders as it slid smoothly into motion once more.

"Actually, it's a good idea," he said, continuing the conversation 
of a moment before.  "Did your friend explain why *I'm* supposed 
to be doing maternity fitness, too?  I understand the part about 
childbirth classes, but maternity fitness?  Not that I mind; I'm 
just a bit curious."

"Couples are supposed to go through it together," Lori said.  
"You're supposed to learn how to help me with some of the 
exercises, including the stretching.  It's designed to help me 
stay fit for the delivery."  She made a face.  "I've heard all 
kinds of horror stories about that.  I hope they're not true."

"All the old hands like to tell stories about labor and delivery 
to the newbies," Clark said.  "I was with Lois all four times, and 
I've delivered a few babies myself in emergencies, you know.  We 
found out that when I was there, holding her hand, she got through 
it a lot easier than when I wasn't.  Bernie Klein always thought 
it had something to do with the aura, and the bond.  Ronnie 
subscribes to the theory, herself."

"Well, you're going to be there with me," Lori said, in her no-
argument tone.  "The others can cover for you, because I want you 
with me every second.  I don't believe in this new trend to 
'preserve the mother's dignity' by keeping her husband out.  What 
idiot thought that up, anyhow?"

"Some guy whose wife never had a baby, I suspect," Clark said.  
"Just like the child experts who don't have any children of their 
own.  I guess that makes it easy to be an expert.  Anyway, that 
was the accepted practice in the early Twentieth Century.  You'd 
be surprised what couples had to go through to finally get 
hospitals to 'allow' husbands to be with their wives during 
childbirth."  He added, "Fortunately, by the time CJ was born the 
battle was already won, but a friend of my Dad's got arrested 
because he wanted to be with his wife while she was having their 
baby.  He had to handcuff himself to her to get in the delivery 
room, and the hospital had him arrested for trespassing after it 
was over."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope.  Fortunately, Dad said they dropped the charges when a 
reporter got hold of the story and decided to give it some 
publicity.  Prosecuting a man because he wanted to be with his 
wife while their baby was being born didn't make the hospital look 
very good."

"I'll say," Lori agreed.  She hesitated.  "You and Ronnie have 
mentioned Bernie Klein before.  He was Ronnie's grandfather, 
right?  I feel silly asking this, but he wasn't *the* Bernard 
Klein, was he?  The scientist that everyone reads about in the 
history books in sixth grade -- the one who developed the anti-
gravity field and all that other stuff?  The names are just a 
coincidence, aren't they?"

"I'm afraid not," Clark said with a faint smile.  "Bernie was 
unique; the kind of person you meet once in a lifetime.  I knew 
him better than almost anyone, and I've never known anyone else 
quite like him.  I wasn't a bit surprised when he made it into the 
history books.  He deserved it."  He grinned.  "Bill Klein reminds 
me of him sometimes, but he resembles his mom more than his dad."

"Wow," Lori said, after a startled instant.  "No wonder Ronnie's 
so smart."

"You mean I'm not?" Clark asked, striving to sound hurt.  He must 
have succeeded because Lori gave him a sharp look.

"Clark, you're the smartest man I ever knew," she said.  "You 
don't think I ..."

He hugged her.  "I was just teasing," he assured her.

"Don't kid about things like that," she said, and he was horrified 
to see tears in her eyes.

"Honey, it was just a joke," he told her.  "Don't cry."

"Sorry."  Lori sniffled and wiped her eyes determinedly.  "It's 
these darned hormones, I think.  I start crying over really dumb 
things."

"I should have known better," he said.  "I'm sorry."

"Why should you have?" she asked.  "Even *I* don't know what's 
going to make me cry.  I feel so silly."  The elevator doors slid 
open at that point and they exited into the tall parking structure 
where Lori had parked the Jeep.

"Well, *I* should know better," Clark said.  "Lois used to call it 
the 'nine-month nutsies'.  It was her way of poking fun at her 
hormones."

Lori gave a slightly watery giggle.  "'Nine-month nutsies.'  I 
like that.  And I'll only have them for about four or five more 
months.  Do you think you can stand me that long?"

He hugged her again.  "A lot longer than that," he said.  "I'd 
tell you to kick me the next time, but you'd hurt your foot."

Lori giggled.  "I'd never kick you, even if you weren't 
invulnerable," she said.  "I only kick bad guys."

"No, you hit them with golf clubs," Clark contradicted.  "And very 
effectively, too."

"Hopefully I'll never have to do that again, either," she said.  
She triggered the lock to the Jeep's doors.  "You can drive if you 
like.  I think I'm almost past the nausea thing."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.  "It's about time you got used to driving again."

Clark shrugged.  "Okay.  Your wish is my command, my dear."

"Don't be an idiot."

**********

Velma Chow looked around at the sound of someone calling her name 
as she left the 12th Precinct.  Metropolis's crack reporting team 
of Kent and Lyons was hurrying toward her and she stopped, waiting 
for them to catch up.

Velma would never admit it, but she envied Lori Lyons somewhat.  
If she had been younger, and the marrying kind, Kent would have 
been the ideal partner.  He was intelligent, well-educated, 
charming, and his looks were enough to catch even her cynical 
attention.  Lyons, of course, was nearly young enough to be her 
daughter, but she had won the reluctant -- and sometimes 
exasperated -- respect of Velma and her superiors with her almost 
intuitive deductive skill.  Despite the traditional antagonism 
between the police and the Press, Velma liked both Lori and Clark, 
among other things because they always gave her men a fair shake 
and never twisted a quote to make it mean something other than had 
been intended.  Other journalists often did that just to stir 
controversy but these two seemed to value truth even over selling 
their news service's subscriptions and making themselves famous, 
which they seemed to do without any difficulty at all.  If other 
reporters would adopt those standards, she thought, they would 
have less difficulty getting the police to talk to them.

The two journalists arrived and Chow raised her eyebrows at Lori 
Lyons' ensemble.  "Congratulations," she remarked, dryly.

To her amusement the younger woman's cheeks flamed red.  "Thanks," 
she said.  "Do you have time to talk for a minute?"

"I'm on my way over to the courthouse to give a deposition," she 
said, "so if you don't mind going along with me ..."

"No, that's fine," Kent said.  They joined her on the slidewalk a 
moment later.  The traffic wasn't heavy at this hour in the 
morning, and only a few scattered individuals could be seen.  
Kent, she noted, kept a hand lightly on his wife's arm as the 
moving walk bore them along at a steady four miles an hour. 

"What can I help the Press with today?" she inquired.

"You were investigating that stabbing over on Unger Street, 
yesterday," Kent said.  "We were hoping you might have some more 
information than the victim's name, age and job.  Any suspects?"

That case was a special one, or might be.  Velma hesitated, but 
from experience, she knew that these two could be trusted to keep 
information quiet until given permission to release it.  Besides, 
if she didn't tell them what they wanted to know, Lyons would 
undoubtedly dig it up herself.  It was just as well, she 
reflected, that the woman had chosen to become a reporter rather 
than a cyber-criminal.  She would have been a major headache for 
the cyber crime task force.  "This information is strictly off the 
record," she said finally.  "At least for now.  Is that clear?"

"Oh?" Kent said.  "All right."

"She may be another victim in a string of killings we've been 
following in the last three years."

"Another serial killer?" Lori asked.

"We aren't sure.  There's a tenuous link between this one and the 
killings of four other women, but it's not enough to label it a 
serial killing."

"What's the link?" Lori asked.

"Every one of them knew the same man."

"You think he's the killer?"

Chow shrugged.  "If he is, we haven't been able to prove it.  Two 
of the victims were killed when he was known to be elsewhere, with 
several witnesses present, and there hasn't been any physical 
evidence to tie him to the crimes.  Alibis often don't really mean 
much, but this time they seem to be airtight.  Naturally, however, 
he remains a 'person of interest'."

"I can see that," Kent said.  "Can you tell us his name?"

Velma shrugged.  "I don't see why not.  I don't have to tell you 
that this is sensitive information.  The guy is innocent until 
proven guilty, remember.  His name is Connor Cooper.  He owns the 
Hobs Fitness Center."

**********

"I can't believe Connor had anything to do with any murders," Lori 
said flatly.  "I know him pretty well, remember.  He wouldn't hurt 
a fly."

Clark made a left turn onto Melon Street, two blocks from 
Kerry's.  It was nearly the lunch hour and the traffic was 
noticeably heavier than it had been half an hour before.  "I 
didn't say anything," he pointed out.  "If Velma had enough 
evidence, your friend would be in jail.  Besides, in two of the 
cases, the killing apparently took place while he was somewhere 
else -- and with a bunch of witnesses.  Still, that doesn't mean 
there's no connection at all."

"He's not a killer," Lori said.

"Okay, I'll take your word for it," Clark said mildly.  "But if he 
isn't the killer, then what *is* the connection?  I take it you 
don't think it's coincidence, do you?"

"I don't see how it *can* be," Lori said reluctantly.  "I suppose 
it's barely possible that that's all it is, but I don't believe in 
coincidences like that."

"Neither do I."  Clark turned into the parking lot for the 
restaurant and took the last parking spot.  "I guess I can't talk 
you into taking a fitness class at some other place."

Lori cast a sideways glance at him.  "You guessed right.  Since we 
were enrolled in the class before the killing, it's a perfect 
cover for some snooping."

He cut the engine.  "That's what I thought.  I gave Ned a call 
while you were over at the snack machine.  He's going to dig up as 
much information on the cases as he can find."

"You agree with me, then?" Lori asked.

"Well, let's put it this way.  I trust your judgement, and the law 
says he's innocent until proven guilty -- and if I don't help you, 
you'll investigate on your own, anyway, so I might as well give in 
gracefully."

Lori put a hand on his arm.  "Thanks, Clark.  I knew I could count 
on you."

He lifted the hand to his lips.  "Always," he said.

She blinked back the infuriating tears that seemed to appear with 
annoying regularity these days.  "I love you, Clark."

"And I love you," he said.  He fished the handkerchief from his 
pocket and dabbed at the single teardrop that had leaked onto her 
cheek.  "But if you go in there with smeared makeup, your dad's 
going to wonder if I'm mistreating you."

She giggled and leaned forward to check her face in the mirror.  
"Or Mom will hope we're getting a divorce.  I think I look okay, 
don't you?"

He looked her over critically.  "Well, I think you're beautiful 
with or without makeup, you know, but I guess you'll pass 
inspection."

"Then let's go.  I'm hungry."

"Big surprise there," Clark said.  He opened his door and got 
out.  A quick glance at the restaurant told him that Lori's 
parents had already arrived and were waiting in the seating 
section.  "Your mom and dad are here," he added.

Lori took a deep breath, and he could hear her heart rate speed 
up.  She was nervous, he realized in surprise.  "What's the 
matter?" he asked.

"What else?" she asked in a wry tone.  "I think Mother's picked up 
on my appetite."

"Oh, you mean that doughnut comment this morning?"

"Yeah.  She thinks I eat too much sweet stuff."

"Well, order something healthy while we're here," he advised.  
"You can pick up anything else later."

She cast him a skeptical look.  "You don't know Mother, do you?  
She's got that 'I'm on a mission' look in her eye."

He chuckled.  "Well, they'll only be here for four days.  You 
certainly look slim enough to me."

"Clark, I'd look slim to you if I was fifty pounds overweight!"

"Well, maybe, but you aren't, and it doesn't matter how much you 
eat while you're pregnant.  Junior there will burn it up and then 
some without any problem at all.  Has Ronnie spoken to you about 
supplements yet?"

"She says she's starting them next month."

"Okay.  Anyway, since your mom will be back in LA, you'll be able 
to eat what you want."

"All right."  She took a deep breath.  "Lead the way."

Clark took her arm and they proceeded around to the front door.

Robert and Mariann Lyons were seated along with several other 
customers along the wall, and Robert got to his feet as they 
entered.  The lunchtime crowd was heavy, and Clark could smell the 
aromas of the superbly prepared food wafting around him.

"Smells good," Lori said.

"It certainly does."  They crossed to her parents, and Robert 
gestured to his chair.

"Here, honey, sit down."

"Thanks, Dad."  Lori took the chair beside her mother, and Rob 
turned to Clark.

"I told the hostess that we were waiting for two more people."

"Okay."  Clark raised a hand as Amy, the owner's daughter, 
appeared.

"Hi, Mr. Kent."  Amy glanced at Rob.  "Is this the rest of your 
party?"

Rob nodded.

"Okay, right this way."  Amy looked at Lori and her smile grew 
wider!  "Oh my!  Congratulations, both of you!"

Clark saw his wife's cheeks turn pink and grinned.  Since the days 
of the enormous drop in the birthrate, the population had 
stabilized once more, but the legacy remained.  A baby was a big 
event, even more than it had been when he had been a young man.  
"Thank you," he said.  "Amy, these are Robert and Mariann Lyons, 
Lori's parents.  Rob and Mariann, this is Amy Burns.  Her parents 
own this restaurant."

Rob nodded to acknowledge the introduction.  Amy smiled cheerfully 
at them, picked up four lunch menus and led the way toward the 
back of the little establishment.

"Is this table all right?" she asked, indicating a corner booth.

"Fine," Clark said.

"Someone will be by in a minute to take your order," she said.

Clark saw to it that Lori was seated on the outside, in case she 
needed to leave the table for any reason, and opened his menu.  
Rob glanced around the restaurant.  "Nice place."

"They seem to know you here," Mariann said.

"We come here a lot, Lori said.

"I brought Lori here on our first date," Clark said.

"I didn't even know it was a date," Lori said.  "Someone had 
broken into my apartment.  Clark came over and fixed my door and 
then brought me here for dinner."

"Did you ever find out who did it?" Rob asked.

Clark nodded.  "Gaia's Children," he said.  "They were after the 
information that Brad gave her.  They didn't find it because Lori 
had asked our editor to keep it for her in his office safe.  That 
was actually the evening she and I decided we needed to 
investigate them more thoroughly."

"I'm surprised you asked the office intern to help you with such 
an important investigation," Mariann said.

Clark shook his head.  "Lori was already doing some research on 
them for me, and I knew she was pretty smart.  As it turned out, 
it was a winning combination."  He opened his menu.  "Anyway, I'm 
glad we decided to work together on the investigation.  The last I 
heard from EPRAD, the ship is on course and right on schedule.  
They've received reports regularly that everything is going 
according to plan."

"That's good to hear."  Rob had also opened his menu.  "What do 
you recommend?"

"Anything you like," Clark said.  "The food here is excellent."

A girl of about seventeen appeared beside them with napkins and 
silverware and proceeded to set the table while they studied their 
menus.  Clark smiled at her.  "Hi, Josie.  How's your Math class 
going?"

"Pretty good," Josie said.  She set water glasses in front of 
them.  "Somebody will be here in a minute to take your order."

"Do you know *all* the employees here?" Mariann asked, sounding a 
little sharp.  Clark saw Lori roll her eyes.  He shook his head.

"No, but we met Josie last week.  She's new."

"Clark has a good memory for names and faces," Lori said.  "It's 
one of the things that makes him a good reporter."

"Speaking of reporting," Mariann said, "you weren't home when we 
called last night.  Who on Earth would you be meeting at that 
hour?"

Clark took a sip of water.  "He goes by the name of Motormouth 
Marvin.  Marv is one of our most reliable informants, but he's 
been lying low recently.  One of the persons we've been 
investigating apparently is looking for him, and he doesn't want 
to be found."  This was quite true, only that meeting had actually 
taken place two nights before.  Still, he hadn't exactly said that 
he'd met the man last night.

"Why on Earth not?" Mariann asked.

"It would be bad for his health," Clark said, mildly.  "He 
wouldn't say any more."

Mariann glanced at her husband, but Rob merely began to scan the 
lunch choices available.  Clark put a hand over Lori's under the 
edge of the table and squeezed.  She squeezed his hand back and 
laid her menu on the table.  "I think I'll have the bacon, lettuce 
and tomato sandwich," she said.  "And maybe Cole slaw instead of 
fries."

Clark nodded, aware that she was cutting back on the size of her 
usual order considerably for the sake of her mother's presence.  
He was going to need to take her somewhere else after lunch to 
make up the difference.  "Don't forget the milk," he said, letting 
his eyelid flicker in a wink that only she saw.  "You know what 
the doctor said about getting your calcium."

She kicked him lightly under the table.  "Yes, dear."

Clark saw the corners of Rob's mouth twitch.  Mariann was nodding 
wisely.  "Clark is right, Lori.  You need to watch your nutrition 
very closely while you're expecting."

"I am, Mother," Lori said.  "We're also taking a maternal fitness 
class starting this evening, on my doctor's recommendation."

"Oh really?  That's a very good idea.  Who is ..."

A young man approached the table.  "Are you ready to order?"

**********

"I'm glad he interrupted us," Lori said quietly to her husband as 
they walked out to the Jeep an hour later.  Ahead of them, Rob and 
Mariann were getting into the rental car that was their 
transportation while in Metropolis.  "The last thing I need is 
Mother getting nosy about which fitness center we're going to and 
who my doctor is.  I don't want to have to explain that my doctor 
is in Houston and that I fly out to see her once a week."

"No kidding," Clark agreed.  Metropolis was the largest city in 
North America, and, despite the drop in the world's population, 
three or four times the size it had been when he had first set 
foot in it a century ago, with plenty of obstetricians and 
specialists in the various problems that could arise during a 
pregnancy.  Mariann would be bound to get either suspicious or 
worried, or both, and start asking even more awkward questions if 
she were to discover that her daughter was seeing a specialist in 
Houston when there were hundreds of perfectly competent doctors 
available in her home city.  Of course, the only specialist in the 
world in her particular complication resided in Houston.

Lori waved to her parents as they pulled out of the lot and let 
out her breath.  "So far, so good."  She glanced at her wrist 
talker.  "I have two interviews this afternoon.  I'm due at the 
first one in forty-five minutes and I want to stop somewhere on 
the way for a hamburger or something."

"Thought you might," Clark said.  "Why don't you go through 
McFeegle's drive-through?  They're only a couple of blocks from 
here."

"I think I will," Lori said.  "What's your schedule for the next 
couple of hours?"

"I have to interview the head of yesterday's search team, but 
that's all," he told her.  "After that, I can call you."

"I wouldn't mind having you with me when I interview the lawyer," 
Lori said.  "Last I heard, he was claiming police entrapment for 
his client."

Clark raised an eyebrow.  "Right.  That was why a couple of dozen 
cars chased him across the bay and they had to use a nullifier to 
bring him down.  All right, I'll call as soon as I've finished."  
He opened the passenger door for her.  "Do you mind if I drive you 
to the first interview?  Superman can leave from there."

"Sure."  Lori climbed into the passenger seat.  "Any specific 
reason?"

He closed her door and a moment later was climbing into the 
driver's seat.  "Nothing in particular.  I just happen to enjoy 
your company."

Lori grinned.  "I'm hardly likely to object to that."

**********

Clark unlocked the door to the top-floor apartment that he and 
Lori shared.  He had chosen a high security building when he had 
decided to return to Metropolis, as it made things that much more 
difficult for intruders to get into his home, which was important 
considering his second job.  The fact that it was on the 
building's top floor with a convenient skylight was also a 
definite plus for his Superman identity.

"The class orientation starts in an hour," Lori said, glancing at 
her wrist-talker as Clark closed the door behind them.  "Any calls 
for help?"

He shook his head.  "I notified the others that this particular 
time is reserved for you and me," he explained.  "They know about 
the fitness class."

"That's convenient," Lori said.  She flopped down on the sofa and 
pulled off her shoes.  "These things should be condemned as a 
hazard to navigation," she added, rubbing her toes.  "I don't see 
men wearing instruments of torture on their feet."

"Fashion isn't fair to women," Clark agreed.  "Maybe you should 
get a pair of that new kind we saw them advertising the other 
evening.  You know -- the comfortable business shoe for women 
executives."

"I just might," she said.  "I've had it with these things.  
They're rubbing a callus on my heel."  She tossed the shoes onto 
the coffee table and stood up, flexing her toes on the carpet.  
"That feels better."

Clark glanced at the clock.  "Maybe I should give you a foot rub."

She shook her head.  "Last time you did that, we forgot about a 
dinner engagement.  Your foot rubs are dangerous."

"Well, it wasn't the *foot rub* exactly," he pointed out.

"No, it was what it turned into," she replied, with a grin.  "And 
that may have been where Junior here came from."  She patted her 
stomach.  "Maybe you could give me one after we get back from the 
class.  In the meantime, I'm going to get into my gym clothes."

He laughed.  "Killjoy.  Okay, the class it is, but I'll keep that 
foot rub option in mind."

"Do that."  Lori headed for the bedroom to find her gym clothes.  
"At least I'll be wearing gym shoes.  The only problem with them 
is they make me look so short."

"Who cares?" Clark asked.  "Nobody in their right mind would think 
your height made a difference."

"Oh yeah?  You don't have to worry -- you're six feet tall.  I'm 
five feet four inches in my bare feet."

"Look at it this way," he remarked.  "It might make the next bad 
guy underestimate you.  Not that I want to see you facing down any 
more bad guys."

"Clark, it wasn't my fault I walked in on a jewelry store robbery 
the day after New Year's.  And I wasn't about to let him take me 
hostage."

He couldn't help a snort of amusement.  "He found out the hard way 
that it wasn't a good idea.  You gave *me* deja vu that time.  I 
think it's part of your karma or something."

"Probably it was just as well that he was a first-timer," Lori 
said.  She shed her blouse, wiggled out of the slacks and hung the 
clothing over the back of a chair.  "Not to mention that 
Superwoman and Blue Lightning showed up five minutes later, ready 
to tear him apart.  Poor guy nearly had a nervous breakdown on the 
spot.  I almost felt sorry for him."

"I didn't," Clark said.  "Besides, you probably dissuaded him from 
a life of crime."

She giggled, pulling open her bottom drawer to dig out her gym 
clothing, but didn't answer.  Clark held the sleeve of her shirt 
when she groped blindly for it, the garment over her head.  "I 
only wish trouble didn't just seem to find you so easily," he said 
as her head emerged from the depths of the clothing.  "I know you 
don't go looking for it, but it happens to you all the same."

**********

The Hobs Fitness Center was a large, nondescript building 
originally intended to be a warehouse, Clark saw as he touched 
down in the shadows of an alley across the street from the 
establishment.  A sign had been erected over the doorway 
announcing the Hobs Fitness Center, and a row of cars pulled up 
against the side of the structure showed that it was indeed open 
for business.  The area immediately around the building was well 
lighted: not a bad precaution to take, he thought, considering the 
seedy nature of the neighborhood.  That was why he and Lori had 
elected to fly this evening.  She had been unwilling to risk their 
vehicle to the uncertain conditions obtaining in this section of 
the city.

He set his wife on her feet and took her hand.  "Shall we go, Ms. 
Kent?"

"Let's," she responded, looking him up and down with an 
appreciative lift of her brows.  "You look good in sweats, Mr. 
Kent.  I'll be the envy of every woman in the class."

He grinned, reflecting that a number of the men in the place would 
probably have better builds than he did, if they worked out there 
at all frequently.  Lori could have been reading his mind.

"You're built just right," she told him.  "Not underdeveloped, and 
not overdeveloped, either.  Some of the body builders I've seen 
look positively grotesque.  You look just the way you should."

Well, at least he wasn't grotesque, he reflected as they crossed 
the street.  Still, it didn't matter how much or how little he 
worked out.  His body always remained exactly the same when it 
came to muscular development, so it was just as well that Lori 
liked him as he was.

He glanced down at his petite wife and smiled.  In spite of her 
attempt to suck in her middle, her rounded tummy gave away her 
condition for all to see.  He knew she had trouble understanding 
it, but it made her all the more beautiful to him.  He slipped an 
arm around her waist.

"Clark Kent, you are a completely hopeless romantic," she said, 
with disconcerting accuracy.  "Do me a favor and don't change, 
okay?"

"Not on your life."  He pushed open the unpowered door and they 
stepped into the Hobs Fitness Center.  The young woman at the 
receptionist's counter looked up and her face lit up with a smile 
of recognition.

"Mr. Kent!  Ms. Lyons!  I didn't expect to see you again so soon," 
Deirdre Monitor said.  "I take it you're here for the maternal 
fitness class?"

"That's right," Lori said.

"You're a little early," Deirdre said.  "If you like, I can have 
someone show you around while you wait."

"Lori!"  Clark turned his head at the yell, and saw a tall, 
muscular young man with a crop of shoulder-length blond hair and a 
handlebar mustache of truly magnificent proportions charge across 
the room toward them.  He engulfed Lori in a hug, sweeping her off 
her feet.  "Baby, it's *great* to see you!"

Connor Cooper, Clark surmised, as the young Atlas set Lori back on 
her feet.

"It's great to see you too, Connor," Lori replied, unruffled by 
the exuberant greeting.

"Let me guess," Connor said, surveying Clark critically.  "This 
must be the lucky guy you married."

"Well, he's the guy I married, anyway.  This is Clark Kent," Lori 
said.  "Clark, I'd like you to meet Connor Cooper."

Clark extended a hand, only to find it engulfed in Cooper's, being 
enthusiastically shaken.  Connor Cooper was at least six inches 
taller than he, Clark thought, and would have out-massed him by a 
good forty pounds if he had been human.  He made Clark think of 
one of the traditional Viking warriors of old, who should have 
been swinging a battleaxe, not running a gym.

"Great to meet you," Connor was saying.  "I figured you had to be 
some kind of super man to convince Lori to actually marry you.  
She always said she wasn't going to get married until she got her 
first Pulitzer."

Clark raised his brows and looked at his wife, who had turned 
red.  Connor laughed.  "I've been reading your stuff since the 
Mayflower deal.  I wasn't surprised.  I figured Lori'd shake up 
any news service that hired her."

"You were right about that," Clark said.  "You worked on the 
college paper with her, didn't you?"

Connor nodded.  "That's right.  She joined the Clarion staff a 
year after I did, and two years later, she was the editor.  Conned 
me into writing a health and physical fitness column for the whole 
last year."

"I figured you'd write best about what you really enjoyed," Lori 
said.  "I was right, too.  If you don't mind, I thought we'd take 
your maternal fitness class and write about our experiences here."

Connor grinned.  "That'd be great," he told her.  "I can use the 
publicity to get this place off the ground.  Lots of guys have to 
be talked into this kind of class," he added with a glance at 
Clark.  "Your other half looks like he knows his way around a gym, 
though."

Lori nodded.  "Clark's pretty athletic," she said, straight-
faced.  "He didn't argue about the class, though."

Clark laughed.  "Well, I have a part in this, too," he pointed 
out.  "If I can learn how to help Lori get in shape for this whole 
thing, it's the least I can do."

"Good attitude," Connor said.  "Lots of women let the physical 
fitness part slide during a pregnancy, but the best thing she can 
do to give herself an easy delivery is to stay fit.  That's why we 
offer the class.  Doesn't hurt the expectant dad to keep in good 
condition, either, and the two of you taking it together is good 
for both of you.  Lori'll do a lot better with you to help than by 
herself."  He wrapped an arm around Lori's shoulders and steered 
her toward the other persons who had been watching their meeting 
from the reception counter.  "Come on.  I want to introduce you to 
the other instructors here.  Our receptionist is Deirdre Monitor 
..."

"We met the other night," Lori said.  "I didn't know she worked 
here, though."

"Okay.  I don't think you've met my instructors, though."  Connor 
pulled her forward.  "Guys, this is Lori Lyons and her other half, 
Clark Kent.  She works at the Daily Planet now, but she used to be 
my editor at the NTSU Clarion."  Connor indicated a short, 
muscular man with closely cropped dark hair and a set of shoulders 
as wide as his own.  "Lori, this is Paul Brown, who's in charge of 
the weight room.  This," he continued, indicating the remaining 
woman, dark-haired and tanned, "is Marcella Evans.  She's going to 
teach your class."  Marcella, Clark thought, looked fit and trim, 
and if she carried any extra fat, he couldn't tell.  "Marce was a 
phys ed major at NTSU like me," Connor continued.  "We were in the 
same class.  And this is Jacob Prince."  He indicated the second 
man, a taller, leaner version of Brown.  "Jake instructs Aerobics, 
and is assisting Marce with the maternal fitness class.  Clark and 
Lori are going to take the class and do a piece on it for their 
news service," he added to his employees.

"Pleased to meet you," Paul Brown said, sticking out a hand.  "I 
guess you must know any new business always has a problem getting 
started.  We can sure use the free publicity."

Lori took his hand.  "I know.  Connor got hold of me a couple of 
weeks ago and told me about his gym.  I figured that, since my 
doctor had recommended a class, this was the perfect opportunity 
to help him and myself at the same time.  Besides, this is 
something a lot of women don't seem to know much about."

"I guess you two were pretty good friends at school?" Marcella 
said.

Connor grinned.  "She was more a drill sergeant than an editor," 
he said.  "I ended up writing that fitness column because of 
her."  He dropped an arm over her shoulders.  "Me, writing, of all 
things!"

"It got you through your English requirement, didn't it?" Lori 
said, giving him a jab in the ribs with one elbow.  "Do you have 
any idea how hard I had to work to convince your English professor 
to give you credit for that?"

Connor nodded.  "Seriously, I owe her a lot," he said.  "Anyway, I 
wanted you all to meet the lady who helped me get where I am.  
Come on, Lori, let me show you and Clark around before the class 
starts."

**********

The class was slowly breaking up, and Lori experimentally flexed 
an arm.  The exercises hadn't been particularly strenuous, but her 
muscles knew they'd been working.  Clark got smoothly to his feet 
and gave her a hand up.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Of the class?  I think it's going to put me in good shape.  Do 
you remember all those stretches I have to do every evening?"

He tapped his forehead.  "All memorized."

"Naturally," Lori said.  "What was I thinking?"  She glanced over 
her shoulder at the two instructors, who were answering questions 
from several of the students.  "I guess I'll get interviews with 
them next time.  Or maybe I can come by here tomorrow when they're 
not so busy."

"Give them a call in the morning," Clark advised.  "Right now 
you'd have to fight for time with them."

"Yeah."  Lori picked up her towel.  "Are you ready to head for 
home?  I want to write up my impressions while they're still fresh 
in my mind."

Clark nodded.  "All set.  You can write and I'll fix us something 
to eat."

"Something healthy, I hope," Connor's voice said from behind 
them.  

Lori turned around.  "You still haven't broken that habit, I see," 
she said.

"What habit?" Clark asked.

"Sneaking up on people from behind and scaring them out of their 
pants," Lori said, fixing Connor with an accusing stare.

He grinned.  "You can't intimidate me with that look anymore, 
Lyons," he told her.  "Actually, I was wondering if you have a few 
minutes to talk," he added in a lower voice, becoming serious for 
a moment.  "The gym closes at ten, but I'm off in a couple of 
minutes.  There's a coffee shop down the street where we could 
talk privately.  It's called Marge's Coffee Corner."

"Do they mind having people coming in in their sweats?" Lori 
asked.

"Nope," Connor said.  "I go there for dinner a lot.  They know 
me."

"No problem, then," Clark said.  "Shall we wait and go with you or 
meet you there?"

"I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes," Connor said.

**********

"I wonder what's up," Lori said as they left the gym a few minutes 
later.

"Good question."  Clark said.  "I guess we'll find out."  He led 
the way into the nearest alley, and a moment later, Superman 
flashed upward fast enough that even someone who was watching 
carefully would have seen only a blur, and certainly couldn't have 
identified his passenger.  Marge's Coffee Corner was a little 
establishment at the end of the block, frequented, it seemed, by 
working class men and women with jobs in the nearby areas.  Only a 
few older ground cars were parked in the lot behind the coffee 
shop and no aircars at all.  Clark landed in the shadows provided 
by a burnt-out street light, and a moment later he and Lori 
entered Marge's Coffee Corner.

There was an empty booth in the far corner, and Clark led his wife 
directly to that one.  As they took their seats, Lori took out a 
notebook.  "I need to make a few notes," she explained, "before I 
forget what I wanted to say about tonight's class."

"Go ahead.  I'll watch for Connor," Clark said.

"Thanks."  Lori began to scribble furiously.  

A waitress appeared with silverware and water.  "Would you like to 
order something to drink?" she inquired.

"Two coffees for now," Clark said.  "And a extra-large nachos for 
an appetizer."

Lori barely glanced up.  "Extra guacamole, sour cream and cheese," 
she said.  "And an order of breaded mozzarella sticks with dipping 
sauce.  And a glass of milk," she added as if in afterthought.

"Connor will be scandalized," Clark observed.  He glanced at the 
waitress.  "We're waiting for someone, so we'll order the rest of 
the meal after he gets here."

"All right," she said.  "That was extra guacamole, sour cream and 
cheese?  *And* mozzarella sticks?"

"That's right," Clark said.  "And a large milk."

"You're from the Fitness Center?" she asked, glancing 
appreciatively at Clark.

"Yes," Clark said.  "Do people from the gym come here often?"

"Sure," she said.  "All the time.  If you can eat like that and 
still stay in this kind of shape, I gotta sign up."

Clark didn't comment.  Lori made a final note and closed the 
little book.  "There," she said.  "I think that covers everything 
for tonight."

The waitress departed and Clark glanced toward the front of the 
restaurant just as the door opened to admit Connor.  He raised a 
hand to attract the man's attention.  "Connor's here," he said.

Lori looked up, as Connor slid into the seat opposite them.  
"Thanks for coming," he said without preliminary.  "I need to talk 
to you.  After what happened yesterday, I knew I had to find 
someone who could help me.  You two are investigative reporters, 
and I need someone who understands this stuff."

"Are you talking about  --" Lori began.

"I saw your article about the woman who was stabbed last night not 
far from the gym," Connor said, keeping his voice low.  "Her name 
was Ginnie Talbot.  The police were questioning me about her this 
morning, Lori.  Since you wrote the article, you probably know she 
was one of my instructors."

Lori nodded.  "I talked to the police today."

"What you may not know, however," Connor said, "is that there have 
been four other murdered women in the last three years, and all of 
them knew me!  I'm a suspect, and I don't blame the cops a bit.  
The only reason I'm not under arrest is that for two of them, I 
was teaching a class and couldn't possibly have been the killer, 
but there's got to be some connection to me.  It's too much of a 
coincidence otherwise.  I need you to help me find out who's doing 
this and stop him before he kills anybody else!"

Clark glanced at Lori, then back at Connor.  The body builder was 
looking pleadingly at them, and Clark could hear the man's pulse 
pounding fast and hard.  

"Lori and I are investigative reporters, not police," he said.  
"We can try to find this killer for you, but we don't have their 
resources.  And, of course, we have no proof that you're not 
somehow involved."

Connor nodded jerkily.  "Yeah.  I realize you don't know me from 
Jack," he said, "but I know *your* reputation, Mr. Kent.  People 
say you're a straight shooter, and besides, Lori married you."  He 
bit his lip.  "If she trusts you, I do.  Please, I need someone 
who can investigate and maybe find out some stuff that the police 
haven't.  Whoever this guy is, he's killed five women who knew 
me.  I don't know why, but I want it to stop.  You guys have a 
reputation that won't quit, and a legitimate reason to hang around 
the gym.  Will you help me?"

"When you put it that way, I don't see how we can say no," Clark 
said.  "All right, tell you what.  We probably shouldn't talk 
about this in a public place.  Come over to our apartment after we 
eat and you can tell us everything you know about the murdered 
women and your relationships with them.  We'll start from there."

Connor blew out his breath.  "Thanks," he said.  "I appreciate 
this."

"Don't thank us until you see what we can manage," Lori said.  
"I'll try to get the police reports on the killings by tomorrow."  
She lifted her head.  "Here come our appetizers."

Connor raised his brows as the waitress set the nachos and breaded 
mozzarella sticks on the table before them and followed it with 
two cups of coffee.  "Are you ready to order?"

Connor glanced at the food and then at Lori.  "Still on your usual 
health food kick, I see."  He looked at Clark.  "I never could 
convince her to eat healthy food.  Maybe you'll have better luck."

Lori gave a tiny smile and opened the menu.  "I'll have the steak 
and fries, please, with green beans."

"Choice of bread?" the woman asked.

"Garlic bread," Lori told her.  "And the milk, of course."  She 
looked innocently at Connor.  "See?  I'm getting my calcium."

Connor rolled his eyes.

The waitress gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh 
and turned to the two men.  "Are you ready to order?"

**********

"Well, I'd call this an interesting development," Clark said.  
They were flying through the chilly night air toward their 
apartment after bidding good night publicly to Connor.  "Still, I 
don't blame him.  If he's innocent, he certainly doesn't want 
women dying because of him."  He saw her slight frown.  
"Personally, I think the probability is that he's telling the 
truth, but I have to keep the slight possibility in mind that he 
might not be."

"What could you tell about him while we were talking?"

"He was nervous," Clark said, "but that isn't exactly surprising."

"I could tell that myself, without super hearing or smell," Lori 
said.  "What did he smell like?"

Clark grinned.  "Nervous," he said.  "I also think he was 
genuinely happy to see you."

"Yeah, that was kind of obvious.  Connor and I were pretty good 
friends when we worked on the Clarion.  I even dated him a couple 
of times, but there was nothing between us.  He was just fun to be 
with, and I was too focused on my studies to let myself get 
involved with anyone.  Lots of girls chased him while he was at 
New Troy State, but I don't think he took any of them seriously."

"Then I guess I don't need to worry," Clark said.

"Definitely not," Lori said.  "There isn't a man on the planet who 
can measure up to you, at least for me."  She cupped his jaw with 
her free hand and stretched up to kiss him.  He responded with 
enthusiasm, and then had to correct his flight sharply as he 
nearly clipped the corner of a building.

"Oops!"

Lori giggled.

**********

"Nice place you have here," Connor said.

"Thanks."  Lori waved him to the big armchair that sat at right 
angles to the couch.  "Sit down.  Can we get you anything to 
drink?"

"Sure."  The body builder sank into the armchair.  "This is nice.  
You have chairs for real people.  Most of the time I'm afraid I'll 
break the chair."

"Herbal tea, right?" she asked.

"That's right."

On cue, Clark emerged from the kitchen with the teapot and cups.  
"Lori tipped me off in advance," he said, setting the tray on the 
coffee table.  "Help yourself."

"Thanks."  Connor did so.

Lori waited until he set the teapot back down and had settled back 
in his chair, then broached the subject.  "So," she said, "what 
can you tell us about this situation?"

Connor cautiously sipped his herbal tea, seeming to gather his 
thoughts, then he set his cup down carefully.

"I've been trying to figure out exactly what happened," he said.  
"I dug out my old diaries ..."  He broke off, looking 
embarrassed.  "Yeah," he said, "I keep a diary.  Don't spread it 
around, okay?  Anyway, after it finally dawned on me that this 
somehow had something to do with me, I got them out and re-read 
what happened, trying to figure out what might have been behind 
it.  You can probably get the police reports and everything, but I 
didn't know what else to do.  It's no fun to have a friend killed 
like that."

"I know," Lori said.

"The diaries didn't really help," he said.  "I mean, I can't see 
any connections, but I'm not a detective or --" he smiled briefly, 
"-- an investigative reporter.  It doesn't make any sense, but I 
can't ignore the fact that it's happened, and the police are 
watching me.  It's got to be stopped.  Outside of the fact that I 
don't want to be arrested for something I didn't do, I don't want 
anyone else to get killed."

Clark could hear his heart thumping like a drum, and it was clear 
from his other bodily reactions that the man was genuinely 
distressed.  If he was guilty of the crimes that Lieutenant Chow 
had told them about, then he was the best actor Clark had ever 
met.  No, unless something very extraordinary had taken place, 
Connor Cooper was an innocent man.

"Why don't you tell us about your relationships with the murdered 
women," he said.  "We can read the police reports, but that's 
still a long way from a personal viewpoint.  Maybe you'll tell us 
something that will help without knowing it."

Connor gulped the remainder of the cup of tea and Lori refilled it 
without comment.  "Okay, but if you can pick anything useful out 
of it, it's more than I can.  The first murder happened just after 
I graduated -- about a month later, actually.  I'd gone to work 
part time for a health club -- the Metropolis Fitness Center.  One 
of my instructors at NTSU knew the owner wanted a couple of people 
who were looking for a beginning spot, who could do general 
cleanup and basic maintenance on the equipment, and help out 
teaching the occasional class.  He recommended a couple of us, and 
the owner offered us a job.  It didn't pay enough to live on 
really, so I worked part time at the Metro Quality Pre-Owned Air- 
and Groundcar Dealership, too."

"The ones that got busted six months ago for failure to meet 
minimum safety standards," Lori said.

"Yeah," Connor said.  "I didn't know about that part, though.  I 
worked as a detailer.  Anyway, Dolly worked in Parts and 
Maintenance.  We went out to lunch a couple of times.  She was 
just a nice, friendly girl.  Three weeks after I went to work 
there, she was apparently stabbed to death when she entered her 
apartment house.  It was pretty bad."

"Did you have any reason to think she might be afraid for her 
safety?" Clark asked.

Connor shook his head.  "No.  She lived in a pretty decent part of 
the city.  Not the best, but not the worst, either."  He looked 
grim.  "The day it happened, she'd come over to the gym after 
work.  I'd been trying to talk her into taking a fitness class, 
and she was thinking about it.  Whoever killed her was apparently 
waiting for her when she went into her place.  The police called 
it a botched robbery attempt."

"You don't think it was?" Clark asked.

"I did then," Connor said.  "Now, I don't."  He gulped the liquid 
in his teacup, draining it.  "I only started to wonder later, 
though.  It just seemed awfully coincidental."

"So, what happened next?" Lori asked.

"Well, I'd quit work at Quality and gone to work flipping 
hamburgers at the local McFeegle's," he confessed.  "I don't know 
-- I didn't want to work there anymore after Dolly was killed.  
Gave me the creeps.  Anyway, her name was Mercedes Young.  She was 
an assistant manager at McFeegle's.  We actually dated a couple of 
times, but we were a long way from getting serious.  She'd started 
working out at the gym -- trying to work off all those hamburgers, 
she said --" He smiled briefly.  "Anyway, a couple of months after 
our second date, she was stabbed to death apparently when she was 
getting into her car.  The police said she'd been stunned and then 
stabbed."  He had begun to wring his hands, and stopped when he 
noticed what he was doing.  "I was teaching a class at the exact 
time, subbing for another instructor who had called in sick."

"Had she said anything to make you think she was worried for her 
safety?" Clark asked.

Connor shook his head.  "No, nothing.  I just thought it was a 
horrible coincidence, but it kind of spooked me."

"It would spook me, too," Lori said.  "Go on."

Connor nodded.  "Nothing much happened after that. I'd kind of 
sworn off dating, anyway.  I was wondering if I had some kind of 
curse on me, or something.  I mean, I was friends with lots of 
people, but two women who'd dated me had been killed.  I mean, how 
many people do you know that have had one friend murdered, much 
less two?"
 
"None," Lori said.  "Except you, of course."

"Exactly," Connor said.  "It scared me.  Anyhow, I was working 
three jobs for a while.  I didn't really have time for a social 
life.  I'd always intended to start my own gym, you know, but I 
figured it was going to be years before I could actually do it."  
He shrugged.  "Anyway, about a year later, I'd stayed at the gym 
to teach a class, like I always did on Thursday nights.  Just as I 
was leaving, the police showed up, wanting to know where I'd been 
for the past hour.  It turned out that one of the tenants in my 
building -- the woman who lived across the hall from me -- had 
been killed the same way as Dolly and Mercedes.  I had plenty of 
witnesses who had seen me in the gym the whole time, and it 
obviously couldn't have been me -- but the police weren't really 
convinced."

"I don't see how they could have connected that one to you," Lori 
said.  "Except by the fact that she was killed the same way as the 
others, that is."

Connor shrugged.  "I couldn't, either," he said.  "She and I had 
exchanged hellos when we passed each other in the hall a few 
times, but that was it.  We barely knew each other."

"How about now?" Clark asked.  "Any ideas?"

"Maybe, but it seems awfully far-fetched."

"Never mind how far-fetched it is," Lori said.

Connor shrugged.  "Okay.  There was one tenant there -- Mr. 
Whittaker.  You know how gossips can take anything and turn it 
into a scandal?  He used to watch everybody in the building, and 
had the wildest stories about all of us.  As far as he was 
concerned, the whole apartment was a hotbed of scandal and illicit 
love affairs.  One of them involved me and Mary Roberts.  
Everybody used to laugh at the whole thing -- until she was 
killed.  The police picked up on it, of course -- but they 
couldn't prove anything, because there wasn't anything to prove."

"You're right," Lori said, "that's pretty far-fetched.  You're 
sure there wasn't any other connection?"

"Absolutely positive," Connor said.  "And, of course, I didn't put 
it together until much later.  I mean, I knew about the rumor, but 
nobody in his right mind would have taken it seriously, any more 
than they took all the others the guy spread around seriously.  
Everybody knew Mr. Whittaker."

"Okay," Clark said.  "And you weren't dating anybody at this 
time."

Connor shook his head.  "I didn't have the time," he said.

"Okay," Lori said.  "Go on."

"Well, about eight months ago," Connor said, "I got promoted to 
instructor at the gym and got a raise, so I was able to quit my 
job at McFeegle's.  I got a job a couple of days a week at a 
convenience store to make ends meet, but I started spending most 
of my time at the gym.  I worked a split shift lots of days -- 
three hours in the afternoon and three in the evening.  I went to 
a nearby coffee shop to eat dinner a lot so I wouldn't have to go 
home and then come back, since I lived across town.  The people 
there got to know me pretty well, especially one of the 
waitresses."

"I think I see where this is going," Clark said.

"Yeah.  I used to look forward to seeing her on the days I worked 
the split shift, but I was careful to keep it casual.  I didn't 
want her to be killed too!"  Connor poured himself more tea and 
gulped it down in two swallows.  "You can call me stupid, but I 
still didn't actually realize what was happening.  I still hoped 
that the other killings had been some kind of horrible 
coincidence, but I was getting kind of superstitious about it, so 
I didn't ask Lily for a date or anything, although she was kind of 
hinting she wouldn't say no if I did.  One day she didn't come to 
work.  That evening, the police showed up to question me.  She'd 
been stabbed to death in the parking lot behind the building while 
I was sitting inside, waiting for her.  They said she'd been 
stunned first and then stabbed.  I think the only reason they 
didn't arrest me then was that a couple of the staff were pretty 
sure I hadn't left the table during the window of time when she 
must have been killed.  They wanted to; I could see that, but they 
couldn't find anyone who had seen me leave, and there was a time 
stamp on the bill."  He shuddered convulsively.  "I think they had 
me under surveillance for a while after that.  I wish they hadn't 
given up."

"Why?" Lori asked.

"Ginnie Talbot," Connor said.  "My Uncle Connor died suddenly five 
months ago.  He didn't have any kids, and it turned out that he 
left me some money in his will.  I was able to start my health 
club a lot sooner than I'd expected to -- we've just been in 
business a couple of months.  When I set up the gym, I hired 
people I knew at college or had met while I was working at the 
gym.  Ginnie was one of my best aerobics instructors.  She left 
work last night as usual, but never made it home.  She'd been 
stunned and stabbed.  Naturally, the police immediately suspected 
me."  He set his teacup with a clink in its saucer.  "If they'd 
been watching me, maybe they would have been able to prevent it.  
Maybe they would have discovered whoever is doing this.  Somebody 
is killing women who know me -- and I don't even know why.  It has 
to be someone I know, someone who knows about my life.  If the 
police had been watching me, maybe they would have discovered 
something.  Maybe Ginnie wouldn't have had to die."  

**********

"You know," Lori said, "this is a really weird case."

She reached for the toothpaste, dabbed some of the substance on 
her toothbrush and began to scrub her teeth thoroughly.  Clark 
finished drying his face, leaned forward and proceeded to remove 
the five o'clock shadow that coated his chin.  "I agree, it's 
weird," he said.  "Whoever is behind it must have known Connor for 
a long time -- at least since he was at New Troy State.  I suppose 
it could even be someone he knew there.  An instructor, or maybe 
another student."

"Maybe," Lori said doubtfully.  "Still, there weren't any murders 
while he was there.  It started after he left."

"Yeah.  Well, I guess we could hunt up school records and check 
out who his classmates were.  Maybe we could interview some of 
them.  It seems like a long shot, though."  Clark slapped 
aftershave onto his cheeks and chin.  "It could easily have been 
someone he knew that wasn't even in his class."

"Maybe.  He and I were pretty good friends, but nobody tried to 
kill me.  There was the mugging that night we met, of course, but 
that was eight months after Connor graduated, so I don't think 
there was any connection."

"Probably not," Clark said.  "It didn't fit the pattern, anyway.  
The murdered women were all stunned and then stabbed."

"Yeah."  Lori shivered slightly.  "Whoever is doing this must be a 
real nutcase.  Why do you suppose Metropolis has so many insane 
killers, anyway?"

"Well," Clark said, "in any population there are a certain 
percentage of people that are unbalanced.  Metropolis is the 
biggest city in North America, and the second-largest in the 
entire world.  If you take that into account, the same 
*percentage* of people are criminally insane as everywhere else, 
but in sheer numbers there are a lot more of them."

"I guess," Lori said.  "It sure looks to me like one of them has 
targeted Connor, though." 

"I think you're probably right," Clark said.  "After this evening, 
I don't really think he's a killer."

"Oh?  What made up your mind?"

"I was listening to his pulse while he was talking to us.  He 
smelled scared, too, and -- well, a number of bodily reactions 
that normal people aren't aware of unless they use pretty 
sophisticated technology to detect it.  Plus, I trust your 
judgement, and you don't think he's guilty."

"Oh," Lori said.  

Clark put an arm around her and pulled her against his bare 
chest.  "One thing, though, that I hadn't thought of before.  
Since we don't know why the killer targeted these particular 
friends of Connor's, did it occur to you that now *you* might be a 
target?"

Lori stared at his face, reflected in the mirror.  "No, I hadn't.  
Do you really think someone would go after me just because I'm a 
friend of his?"

"A pretty good friend of his," Clark said.  "Someone sure doesn't 
seem to like Connor's female friends."

"Yeah."  Lori bit her lip.  "I'm married, though."

"We don't know that being married matters," Clark said.  "Promise 
me you'll be careful, honey."

"I will," Lori told him.  "Believe me, I will."

**********

"Ms. Lyons!"  Lori and Clark stepped out of the elevator and Lori 
turned her head at the instant hail.  Carla, the new intern, was 
waving several sheets of hardcopy at her.

"Wow," Lori remarked to her husband, "things sure seem to be 
starting off fast this morning."  

"It's the police reports you asked for," he said quietly.  "Looks 
like Velma pushed it through for you in a hurry."

"That was nice of her," Lori said.

"Practical," Clark said with a grin.  "She knows you pretty well 
by now."

Carla hurried across the room and presented the papers to Lori. 
She was a petite, very pretty girl with blue eyes and dark brown 
hair, who had been employed by the Planet for exactly a week, and 
been gratifyingly in awe of Lori for the entire time.  Lori was 
somewhat embarrassed to be the object of such intense hero-
worship, but Clark found the situation amusing.  He observed that 
today the intern had a new hairdo suspiciously similar to Lori's.

"It's a bunch of police reports," she informed her idol 
breathlessly.  "All about women murdered the same way as the one 
night before last."

"Thanks," Lori said, trying to be nonchalant.  "I was waiting for 
this."

Carla glanced at Clark.  "Is it some kind of serial killer?" she 
asked.

Lori shrugged.  "We don't know, yet.  We're just getting started."

Carla shivered.  "It must be exciting being an investigative 
journalist," she said, a little enviously.

"Sometimes it is," Clark said.  "Most of the time it's dull 
research.  Speaking of which, I need you to find out the names of 
all employees of the Metropolis Fitness Center for the last three 
years."

Carla looked slightly crestfallen, but rallied at once.  "I'll get 
on it as soon as I can, Mr. Kent."

"Thanks," Clark said, smiling at her.  "Lori and I will be out of 
the office most of the morning.  If anything else comes through 
for us, give us a call, okay?"

"Will do, Mr. Kent," Carla said.

Lori's wrist talker beeped softly at that moment. She excused 
herself and stepped away to take the call.

"Lori Lyons," she said.

"Lori?" her mother's voice said, "your father's in a business 
meeting this morning.  I wondered if you'd like to have a cup of 
coffee with me before you start your day."

Lori sighed.  Knowing Mariann, it was going to be more than 
coffee.  From a couple of the things her mother had said the day 
before, Mariann had focused on Lori's appetite, and had 
undoubtedly decided that Lori needed some motherly advice.  She 
couldn't refuse without hurt feelings, but she couldn't restrain 
the slight sinking feeling in her middle.  "Sure, Mom.  Clark and 
I have a couple of interviews this morning, but I guess I can 
spare fifteen minutes for coffee.  Where would you like to meet?"

"How about that little coffee shop right across from your office," 
Mariann's voice said.  "I just happen to be there right now.  
Clark can pick you up right afterwards and you can go on to 
whatever you have to do from there."

"All right," Lori said.  "I'll be there in five minutes."

She ended the call.  Clark, she noticed, had gotten rid of Carla 
in the meantime, and was waiting for her to finish her 
conversation.

"I guess that was your mom?" Clark said, unnecessarily.

"Yeah," Lori said.  "I have the feeling I'm in for a mother-to-
daughter lecture."

"Yeah, I noticed your mom seemed a little worried about what you 
were eating yesterday," Clark said.  "Shall I come with you?"

She shook her head.  "She more or less told me she didn't want you 
there -- that remark about picking me up afterwards."

"I caught that," Clark said.  "If you like, I can play the dense 
spouse who can't take a hint."

"No, I might as well get it over with.  If you'd listen in and 
interrupt if things get too tense, I'd appreciate it, though.  
Besides, I need to get something to eat before we head for that 
interview.  I'm starving."

"Say no more," Clark said.  "My ears will be peeled.  And if I 
pick you up a little early, well, that wouldn't hurt, either, 
would it?"

"Just what I was thinking," Lori said.  "I'd better go."  She 
stood on tiptoe to peck him on the cheek and turned toward the 
elevator.

**********

Mariann Lyons was sitting in a booth at the rear of the coffee 
shop, a cup of coffee in front of her.  The seat opposite her was 
vacant, of course, but a cup of steaming coffee sat waiting for 
Lori, a couple of containers of low fat coffee creamer and two 
packets of sugar substitute lying beside it.  She slid into the 
seat, observing the preparations for her arrival.  Her mother 
wasn't even trying to be subtle.

"Hello, Mother," she said.

Mariann bit her lip.  "You have that tone in your voice again," 
she said.

"What tone?" Lori asked.

"The one you used to get when I lectured you as a teenager, and 
you didn't want to listen."  Mariann sighed.  "Lori, I hope you 
know I only want the best for you."

"I know that, Mother."

"I just ... "  She hesitated.  "I never wanted you to marry.  I 
was so afraid it would somehow have a detrimental effect on your 
career -- but you chose to marry Clark.  Don't get me wrong; Clark 
is a charming man, but he's still a man."

"Yes, he is.  But --"

"Lori, men place a great deal of emphasis on physical appearance.  
I know how much you care for him, and since he seems so important 
to you, I don't want you to lose him.  I realize your pregnancy is 
causing your appetite to spiral out of control, but if you put on 
a tremendous amount of weight, is he going to want to stay married 
to you?  He's a very attractive male specimen.  I'm certain he 
wouldn't find it difficult to replace --"

"Mother," Lori said, reminding herself sharply that Mariann didn't 
have all the facts, "Clark isn't going to leave me."

"How can you *know* that, though?  He married a slim, attractive 
girl.  If you let your weight get out of control --"

"My weight isn't out of control, and neither is my appetite," Lori 
said firmly.  

"I have trouble believing that," Mariann said.  "I saw how you 
were eating yesterday." 

"Mother, please trust me on this," Lori said.  "Clark and I know 
what we're doing, really."  She reached for the sugar canister and 
took four packets.  "And you know I can't use that substitute 
sugar stuff.  It makes me break out."

"I thought that was Marcy," her mother said.

"She breaks out too," Lori said, dumping the sugar into her cup.  
"Neither of us can use it."  She poured the non-fat creamer into 
her coffee.  "Mother, I appreciate your concern, but you don't 
need to worry, really.  Clark isn't going to leave me.  *He* was 
the one that said first that he wanted a lifetime contract.  He's 
not going to change his mind now that I'm pregnant.  And I'm not 
going to get fat."

"Am I interrupting?" Clark's voice said from behind her.

"No," Mariann said, biting her lip.  "Please sit down, Clark."

He slid into the booth beside Lori, glancing at the containers 
that had held the creamer.  "Nonfat?  You know what your doctor 
said, honey.  You need to gain weight."

"Sorry," Lori said.  "It was all that was here.  I'll try to pick 
up something else after we interview the Congressman."

"All right," Clark said, managing to sound skeptical.  "You know, 
Mariann, you really need to talk to Lori about taking care of her 
health.  She's had low blood sugar for most of her pregnancy so 
far, and her doctor specifically said no dieting right now.  She 
doesn't want the baby to be underweight."  He added, "She's lost 
three pounds this month alone.  Her doctor told her to eat more."

Lori barely restrained the impulse to turn and stare at him.  She 
covered her reaction by taking a sip of coffee.  "I promise," she 
said.  "I'll eat."

"If that's the case," Mariann said, "perhaps you should have a 
sandwich before you go to this 'interview'."

"I had breakfast," Lori protested feebly, wondering how this whole 
thing had turned around so quickly.  "I'll get a snack right after 
the interview.  I promise."

The waitress appeared with a tray, on which resided a thick 
chicken sandwich, a scoop of potato salad and a bowl of 
applesauce, accompanied by a tall glass of milk.  She glanced 
questioningly at Clark.

"Right here," he said, indicating the spot in front of Lori.  
"Thanks."  He waited until the food had been deposited before his 
wife and the waitress had gone.  "I noticed you didn't have time 
for more than a glass of orange juice and a piece of toast this 
morning," he said blandly.  "I figured you had to be starving, and 
since you were already here ..."

Mariann was nodding.  "Clark is right," she pronounced.  "Take a 
few minutes to eat, Lori.  You have to take care of yourself while 
your baby is on the way."

"I knew I could count on you to back me up," Clark said to Lori's 
mother.  Lori jabbed him with one finger under the table and then 
rubbed the offended digit against her side.

"I'm going to have to box some of it up to take along," she said.  
"Otherwise we're going to be late.  I've got an interview with 
Congressman Bradford this morning," she told Mariann.  "He was the 
one who's been trying to avoid an interview with me, so I don't 
want to give him an excuse to dodge me again."

"Why doesn't he want you to interview him?" Mariann asked.

"He knows I'm going to ask him questions he'd rather not answer," 
Lori said.  "He's going to have to take a position for once.  
Which," she added, "is just too bad.  If he wants to be Senator 
Bradford, then people have a right to know where he stands on 
certain issues.  If he doesn't want people to know, then they have 
every reason to vote for his opponent."  She bit into the 
sandwich.

Clark glanced back at Mariann.  "Lori has the reputation for being 
a tough interviewer," he explained.  "She doesn't let these guys 
dance around her question and get away without answering.  
Naturally, politicians don't like that."

"Naturally," Mariann said.  "If you need to be going, let's get 
this boxed up for you.  Clark, you'll be sure she eats it, won't 
you?"

"Count on it," Clark said.

**********

"It's times like that," Lori said, munching on the second half of 
the sandwich between mouthfuls of potato salad, "that I remember 
the advantage you have over us ordinary mortals.  You could teach 
an applied psychology course, and I'll bet you never took any, did 
you?"

"Well, I took a semester of basic psychology way back when," Clark 
said as he maneuvered their vehicle through the morning traffic.  
"I needed it for some requirement or other.  Your mom doesn't know 
I can hear what she's saying from across the street, and I've 
lived long enough to know how people will react most of the time -
- except you, for some reason.  And I didn't lie."

"No, but you sure as heck implied a lot," Lori said, around a 
mouthful of applesauce.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

"Not a bit," she said.  "Now I can eat all I want -- except now 
she's going to be bugging me to eat *more*!"  She laughed.  "Poor 
Mom.  At least Dad got her to go into counseling over her control 
thing.  She finally seems to be coming around to accepting you and 
Ryan, anyway."

"Which," Clark said, "will make everyone happier, especially her.  
Do you know who she reminds me of?"

"No, who?"

"Ellen Lane, Lois's mother.  She does things a little differently, 
but the more I see of her, the more I see the similarities.  Ellen 
was a recovered alcoholic, though.  At least that's one thing your 
mom didn't have to cope with."

"Thank heavens for small favors," Lori said.  She finished the 
last bite of the chicken sandwich and took a final forkful of 
potato salad.  "There.  That should hold me until I finish the 
interview, anyway.  Maybe by then Carla will have that stuff on 
the Metro Fitness Center for us.  If Connor got some of his 
employees from the Metro gym, it's possible we're looking for 
someone from there.  After all, a couple of the murdered women 
were killed after going to the gym."

"Naturally, the school turned down my request for records," Clark 
said.  "Do you by any chance, still have your way of getting into 
their computers?"

"Sure," Lori said.  "I set it up while we were hunting for 'The 
Professor', if you remember.  I'll do it after we get back from 
talking to Bradford."

"We need to match them up against Connor's employees," Clark said, 
"and the current employees of the Metro gym, too."

"Yeah," Lori agreed.  "Maybe it will give us some kind of starting 
point.  Maybe we can talk to the employees of the restaurant where 
Lily worked, too.  Somebody may have seen something and not 
realized it.  Maybe we could get pictures of the employees at the 
Hobs Fitness Center and show them to some of them.  Someone is 
bound to have seen the actual killer, without realizing why he was 
there, but didn't know it."

"It's possible," Clark said.  "The question is, would they 
remember after all this time.  Not everybody has the kind of 
memory you do, sweetheart."

Lori glanced at him with a little smile.  "I never thought of 
myself as a sweetheart."

"You're *my* sweetheart," Clark said firmly.

"And you're mine," she said.  "That's a good combination, 
especially during Valentine's Week."

"Sure is," he agreed.  "I was talking to your dad yesterday just 
before we left Kerry's, by the way.  He wondered if we could get 
together tomorrow evening for dinner and maybe a play at the Metro 
Performing Arts Center.  I said I'd have to check with you, but I 
didn't see why not."

"Sure," Lori said.  "It sounds like fun."  She glanced back at the 
sound of a horn but was only in time to see the driver behind them 
give the driver of another car who had apparently tried to cut him 
off the one-finger salute.  Surprisingly the driver of the green 
groundcar didn't reply in kind.  Lori turned back.

"What was it?" Clark asked.

Lori shrugged.  "Bad manners."

"Plenty of that to go around," Clark said.  "I'd like to go over 
to the gym later this afternoon.  We could interview the 
instructors and look around.  Maybe try to get some idea of who 
was there night before last, when Ginnie Talbot left work."

"I agree," Lori said.  "Maybe Superman could do a little snooping, 
too.  Like if anybody there keeps a knife in their locker or 
something."

"Not likely," Clark said.  "The police would be bound to find it."

"Oh, I know.  But you know what I mean.  Who knows what he might 
find?"

"Yeah," Clark agreed.  "You never know.  This whole thing seems 
like a long shot, though.  There isn't likely to be another 
attempted murder this soon after the last one -- at least, I hope 
not.  The police are watching Connor again, too."

"That's probably not a bad thing," Lori pointed out.  "If somebody 
*does* try to kill anybody else, Connor will have an alibi.  And 
maybe, if there is, you or I -- or the police -- will find 
something to uncover who this killer really is."

"I think we're all hoping that," Clark said.  "Just make sure that 
whoever it is doesn't go after you, honey.  Remember what I said 
last night."

"I'm not likely to forget," she said.  "I don't think it's too 
likely, though.  I'm obviously very much married to you."

"Don't forget, just because you're pregnant doesn't make you off 
limits," Clark pointed out.  "Some guys prefer a pregnant woman.  
It means she can bear children.  The rate of female sterility is 
still higher than it should be, even if it's getting better.  That 
was why the Mayflower Project only allowed couples with children."

"Well, yeah, but how likely --"  Lori broke off.  "You're right.  
I'll be careful."

"That's all I want to be sure of," Clark said.  "I'm going to talk 
to Arnie about giving you something a little less obvious than a 
wrist talker to signal for help, just in case anything happens."

Lori frowned.  "Do you really think it's that dangerous?"

"I don't know," Clark said, "and I don't want to have to find 
out."

**********

It was early afternoon.  Lori had finished a convoluted interview 
with the aspiring Senator Bradford, in which the politician had 
utilized every trick in the politician's playbook to avoid 
answering the difficult questions Lori asked.  At last, she had 
clicked off her recorder and looked the man squarely in the eye.  

"Mr. Bradford," she said, "let me say something off the record.  
I've asked you the same question three times, and so far I've 
gotten a tangent about the current Federal safety regulations, one 
about the instability of the monetary system, and third, a 
dissertation about the political wrangling over the jobs bill 
working its way through the House.  I didn't ask about any of 
those.  If you can't give me a straight answer, I'm going to print 
this interview in its entirety, and point out to the readers 
exactly how you've dodged my main question each time I asked it.  
Then they can make up their own minds about whether you can be 
trusted with a seat in the Senate.  Personally, I wouldn't give a 
politician who can't give a straight answer to a simple question 
the time of day."

The man had stared at her for a second, then raised a respectful 
eyebrow.  "You don't mince words, do you Ms. Lyons?"

"No," she said.  "Not when it involves my job -- which, among 
other things, is that of watchdog for the citizens.  It's my job 
to keep the governing class honest.  Now, do you think you can 
give me a straight answer, or am I wasting my time?"

The man laughed dryly.  "You win."

"All right, let's try again."  Lori clicked her recorder back on.  
"Congressman Bradford, I realize this is a very controversial 
topic, but what is your stand on the illegal trade in bootlegged 
organs grown in unsanctioned laboratories, and how would Senator 
Bradford deal with the high cost of replacement organs that would 
result if these labs are closed down?"

Clark hadn't said a word.  He'd watched and listened to the 
interview and she'd seen his lips twitch once or twice, but he 
didn't interrupt.  When they walked out the door, headed for their 
groundcar, Lori glanced at him with her eyebrows raised.  "What 
was so funny?"

"Nothing," he said.  "When I see you in attack mode, I get deja 
vu, that's all."

"Like what?"

"Oh, facing down the Congressman.  Lois didn't like people who 
thought they could fool her, and she didn't trust lawyers.  She 
didn't even cut President Garner much slack -- even when we saved 
his Presidency from John Doe.  She thought most politicians were 
basically con men."

"Well, so do I," Lori said, reasonably.  "I guess that kind of 
makes sense.  You know, you made a remark the other night that you 
promised to explain, though, and you never did."

"Oh?" her husband said innocently.  "Which remark was that?"

"When you were saying that Mom reminds you of Lois's mother, and I 
wondered if *I* could come back, could other people.  You said 
you'd explain, but you haven't yet."

"We haven't had much time," Clark pointed out.  "Still, it's not 
complicated -- at least I don't think it is.  I told you Lois and 
I met a time traveler.  His name was HG Wells."

"The *writer*?"

"Yep."  Clark nodded.  "His book 'The Time Machine' may have been 
fiction, but the concept wasn't.  Anyway, he traveled in time, 
back and forth from the past to the future, and he also met a time 
traveler from the far future who had a device that allowed him to 
track people's souls, for want of a better word, through time.  He 
tracked mine, and discovered that wherever mine was, yours was 
also there, always together.  Lois and I went back through time 
twice with his soul-transfer machine, and wound up in the bodies 
of former versions of ourselves.  I told you a little about that.  
The thing we also discovered while we were doing that was that a 
lot of our friends were also tied to us somehow.  Jim Olsen was 
there, Perry White, my mom and dad -- and probably plenty of 
others that we didn't have time to discover.  There was also one 
man who was an antagonist of ours, an enemy time traveler from the 
future named Tempus, who apparently was destined to be our 
opponent in at least some of the time periods.  I haven't met him 
in a long time, but that doesn't mean anything.  Anyhow, the gist 
of it is, other souls also return.  It's actually possible that 
your mom was Ellen Lane, but if your dad was Sam Lane, then he's 
learned a lot since then."

"What do you mean?"

"Sam was a philanderer.  He cheated on Ellen and left his family 
to go it alone.  Of course there's no rule that I know of that 
says she had to meet Sam in her future lives."

"Oh."  Lori was silent for several minutes, thinking that over.  
"Well, isn't it possible that some of the things you learn in one 
life carry over to the next?  Otherwise, what would be the point?"

"That's a thought," Clark said.  "Ronnie said herself that there's 
a lot that science can't explain -- like why you remembered 
certain specific things from your life as Lois.  There must be 
some carryover."  He shrugged.  "Anyway, that's the story."

"So do you think some of the others have come back?"

Clark shrugged again.  "It's possible.  There's no way to know for 
sure, though.  There tends to be some physical resemblance, 
although it's not exact.  You look a *lot* like Lois, but you're a 
little shorter than she was."

"My dad says his Great-grandmother Lucy was named Lane," Lori 
said.  "Do you think there's any connection?"

"I heard that," Clark said.  "It's possible.  Lois's sister was 
named Lucy.  She married and had three children, all of them 
daughters."

"Wow," Lori said.  "I learn something surprising from you every 
day.  Now I'm going to be wondering which of my friends I knew in 
a previous lifetime.  I don't suppose I'll ever know."

"Probably not.  Aaron might be Jimmy Olsen, for instance.  He 
looks a lot like him, which isn't surprising since he's Jimmy's 
great grandson as well as mine.  But he also runs a computer firm, 
and made a fortune from it.  Jimmy was the office computer guru, 
so it's an interesting coincidence.  I always went to my mom and 
dad for advice when I ran into a knotty problem, and I sort of 
instinctively go to Rhonda and Mason now.  It wouldn't be 
impossible, I guess.  I'd kind of like to think they are.  And of 
course John reminds me a lot of Perry White, even if they don't 
look much alike.  John has hair, for one thing, but he also kind 
of treats you like his protegee, which was how Perry thought of 
Lois.  Or Perry could be a copy boy who will turn up in the office 
five years down the road.  I don't know of any way to tell."

"Still, it would be nice to know," Lori said.  "I don't suppose 
you have any way of contacting your friend, Mr. Wells.  Would he 
know?"

Her husband made a face.  "You don't want to," he said.  "Take it 
from me.  Whenever Herb showed up, trouble followed.  It wasn't 
his fault, but it happened all the same."

"Still, meeting a time traveler would be incredible," Lori said.  
"Traveling in time?  You could go back and see the great 
historical events.  It would be a journalist's dream."

"Well," Clark said, "I haven't seen Herb in nearly a hundred 
years.  He wouldn't have any way of knowing that I'm still alive 
in this time period.  I made certain that there was no record of 
that anywhere, so unless someone spills the information somewhere 
down the line, he'll never know."

"I suppose," Lori said.  "Everyone I know always assumed new 
superheroes take the place of the old ones, but they don't.  It's 
not something you want to advertise."  She smiled at him.  "Maybe 
someday I'll get to meet your Mr. Wells, but right now we've got 
other things to keep us occupied."

"Like tracking down a killer," Clark agreed.  He opened the door 
of the Jeep for her.  "I guess we should go over to the gym and 
talk to people."

"That seems like the best next step," Lori said.

"Well, I can't think of anything else right now," Clark said.  
"I'd like to know who left work at about the same time she did."

"It might not be someone who was working at the same time," Lori 
pointed out.  "Maybe it was someone who works a different shift, 
or who had the day off."

"Let's just find out what we can," Clark said.  "We'll figure out 
the different possibilities later."

"Yeah," Lori said.  "I just get angry at how this person has 
killed five perfectly innocent women whose only crime that we know 
of was that they were acquainted with the same guy."

"That might be all there is behind it," Clark said.  "Jealousy is 
a pretty powerful motive for murder."

"I get the feeling," Lori said, "that you've already formed a few 
ideas about why someone might be targeting Connor's female 
friends."

"Sort of," he said as he started the motor.  "It's pretty obvious 
that the women who were targeted were potential girlfriends, or 
there was a rumor that they were.  Or at the very least," he 
amended, "there was reason for an outside observer, especially 
someone who was already jealous and suspicious, to think they were 
potential girlfriends.  Don't tell me you didn't see that."

"Well ... yes," Lori admitted.  "I was