Meet Sam Wayne
By: Cindy Leuch <isuleuch@hotmail.com>
Rated: PG-13
Submitted: September 2006

----------------------

This is the next installment in my "Dawn of Discovery" next gen.
series. 
Continuity-wise, it takes place after "I'll Be You For
Christmas," although it's a couple years later. All familiar
characters are property of Warner Bros. and DC Comics. All the
Kent kids and associated significant others are mine, though. I
owe a big thank you to Annie Riley, my wonderful and gracious
beta reader. Hope you enjoy.

*****************************************************************

*~*~*
The line it is drawn, the curse it is cast
The slow one now will later be fast
As the present now will later be past
The order is rapidly fadin'
And the first one now will later be last
For the times they are a-changin'.
-Bob Dylan
*~*~*


CJ sighed as he slid his backpack off his shoulder and settled
into a seat by the window. The first flight of the day was going
to be a full one, he could tell already. Gotham City was little
more than a stone's throw from Metropolis by air, but for the
business travelers and families that were packing into the
airplane, the short flight offered enough time savings to make
it worthwhile. Still, CJ thought with a smile as he watched his
fellow travelers board the plane, if they knew who his family
was, they would be giving him funny looks and wondering why he
was there at all.

It was a good question, he supposed. Many a flight had been
taken by more private means between Gotham City and Metropolis.
And his car was certainly familiar with the stretch of
interstate between the two cities. But today's visit to Gotham
wasn't a summer move, or a social visit, or an old superhero get
together. Today's visit was the official start to his new,
post-college life in Gotham, and it was to be entirely
above-board. First he would have his official interview with
Wayne Industries, who coincidentally was financing his trip,
followed by lunch with his future employer. Then he would peruse
a few of the apartments available in the city, before spending a
night at Wayne manor. Hopefully, by the end of his second day in
town, he would have everything set up so that he could
effortlessly make the transition to his new home and his new
job, with his new family.

CJ smiled and turned to look out the window, not really paying
attention to the flight attendants as they went through their
pre-flight ritual and the plane began to taxi for takeoff.
Unconsciously, his left thumb reached for his ring finger,
feeling for the band of gold that had only recently been placed
there. It had only been a few days since he had last flown in
the conventional sense, when he and his new wife had returned
from their Caribbean honeymoon cruise. The whole last month had
seemed like a wonderful dream, between college graduation, the
wedding, and the honeymoon. All the images seemed to blur
together in his mind, and he knew that the full weight of
everything that had happened during that time and what it meant
for both him and Jennifer wouldn't hit him for a while. For now,
he didn't really

have time to stop and reflect on it all, at least not outside
this short flight. There was still too much to do before he
could evaluate his life and where it was headed.

As they took off into the air, CJ chuckled slightly, then leaned
back into his seat and closed his eyes. Air travel. How quaint.
He knew that people all around the cabin were looking intently
toward the ground, trying to find all the familiar Metropolis
landmarks as they passed below. The view of the city from the
air was something that he knew even with his eyes shut, and it
was much more spectacular from out there than it was from the
oval aircraft windows. It would be nice to be out above the
clouds on his own, away from the hustle of terminals, security,
and stuffy aircraft cabins, but he couldn't be upset about the
fact that he wasn't able to. There were too many other wonderful
things in his life to let the absence of one little superpower
bother him. And he certainly wasn't going to inconvenience the
rest of his family and tear them from their jobs just so he
could attend to some business. So he had to commute just like
any normal guy...no big deal. He just wished his wife was here
with him.

The plane continued skyward and on a course that took them over
the Atlantic Ocean, the normal buzz of conversation picking up
again and blending with the rustle of newspaper and the light
beeping of a child's video game somewhere to the rear of the
cabin. Through it all, CJ found himself drifting off to sleep.
Jenny was back home, taking care of finalizing things in
Metropolis, but the thought of her kept him company. It was her
face that danced in his vision as he let the hum of the aircraft
engines fade into the background. Visions of their honeymoon
taunted him, comforted him. The sweet nothingness of sleep
quickly embraced him, and he was almost completely lost in his
dreams when a sound lurched him back to reality. Immediately,
his eyes popped open.

The sound had been something that a normal person surely
wouldn't have been able to hear. During the normal course of
flight, the airplane made noises, especially as the cabin was
pressurized and depressurized. He was accustomed to those
sounds, but what he heard now wasn't anything that he had ever
heard before. It was a sound of fatigue, of something on the
verge of failure. As he sat up in his chair, the sound came
again, this time followed by a deafening bang. Not even the most
oblivious passengers in the cabin could ignore the sound this
time, but before anyone had time to panic, another bang came,
and the cabin suddenly and explosively depressurized. The oxygen
masks dropped down from the panel above, but CJ ignored them as
he searched for the source of the noise. He could now hear the
groan of metal under strain, and the horrible sound of something
coming apart. It was the airplane, he realized as his eyes found
the problem.

Around him, people scrambled to get oxygen masks on those who
had already passed out. The flight attendants were helping in
the task, while trying to calm people down. But they didn't know
the extent of the problem. A body panel on the belly of the
plane had somehow come loose, and the explosive depressurization
had ripped it off, taking part of another panel with it. Cracks
had formed in the frame, stretching away from the original
failure point and becoming progressively larger. It was only a
matter of time before the plane itself came apart. Worse than
that, some hydraulic lines ran through the failure area, and all
had been shredded by the blast. The plane was essentially
crippled and there was no prospect for a happy ending, given the
circumstances. Something had to be done, CJ thought as he looked
around at the men, women, and children around him. If the plane
went down, he would be fine, but they would surely perish. But
what could he do to save them?

With a start, his eyes located the air phone. Saving this plane
would take the skills of someone who could fly, and he knew just
who to call. As he reached out for the phone, the plane suddenly
pitched downward at an alarming angle. Muffled screams from
around him caused the goose bumps to rise all over his body,
followed by a small irrational jab of terror at the thought of
what came next. None of this helped his concentration, and he
found himself fumbling with the phone. Darn all the stupid
features, he thought as he impatiently scrolled through the menu
system. No, he didn't want to send email or look up news. It was
looking more and more like he was about to be news, BAD news if
he couldn't dial the phone. The airplane's velocity was rapidly
increasing as he was finally able to dial the number of the
Daily Planet. After one ring, he was prompted to enter an
extension, which he did by memory.

"Come on, pick up," he said as he was transferred, but his only
reply was the regular ringing of the phone on the other end. The
plane was going frighteningly fast now, and as CJ looked back
toward the failure location, he could see a large crack opening
up through the cabin, large enough that luggage from the
overhead bins was beginning to be sucked out of the void. There
was no time, and no Superman at the other end of the line. That
meant that if they had any prayer of survival, he would need to
be the one to save the aircraft. CJ screamed as he threw the
phone down and reached up, putting his hands on the underside of
the storage bin. He closed his eyes and asserted his will,
desperately hoping that whatever meager flight abilities he did
have would be enough to help, but nothing happened. Through the
earpiece of the phone, now on the cabin floor, CJ could hear his
father's standard voice mail message, followed by a beep.
"HELP!" he screamed, his voice desperate, his hands making
indentations in the bins above him as the man in the next seat
watched wide-eyed. The cry for help segued into a grunt as he
pressed against the aircraft, but it was at that moment that
they met the water.

CJ watched, horrified, as the plane exploded around him with the
force of impact. At the speed they were traveling, hitting the
water was like hitting a brick wall. Almost in slow motion, the
wings of the plane shattered, and the already significant crack
on the cabin wall broke open, splitting the body of the plane
apart. The separate remains of the aircraft rapidly slipped
below the waves, taking everyone who was still strapped in. CJ,
still belted into his seat, was pulled into the water so rapidly
that he barely had time to catch his breath. Quickly, he
unlatched his belt and kicked free from the wreckage. The water
was murky and the light fading as the fuselage slipped deeper
into the ocean, but he could still see well enough to get a
clear assessment of the situation. The man who had been seated
next to him was still staring wide-eyed into the space above his
seat, but CJ realized now that those eyes had probably gone dim
even before the plane had hit the water. The human body was
fragile, and between the lack of oxygen, the G forces on the
plummet to earth, and the force of impact as the plane hit the
water, it would be a miracle if anyone else was still alive. The
optimist in CJ had hoped to see some signs of life, some
evidence of people struggling to get free from their seats to
escape to the surface, but he saw neither.

For a moment, he remained stationary in the water and watched
the cabin fall, too stunned to do anything. It only took a
moment for his instincts to kick in, though, and he began to
swim toward his fellow travelers as quickly as he could. If
there was even the slightest chance that someone down there
could be saved, he needed to help them. As he reached the first
row of intact seats, he started unbuckling people as quickly as
he could. He had expected them to start floating upwards, but
the turbulence in the wake of the sinking airplane was enough to
keep them below the water. With a frustrated frown, he realized
that he had to be the one to bring them to the surface. The
human brain could only be deprived of oxygen for a few precious
minutes before bad things began to happen, he knew, and it
wouldn't do any good to free passengers from the wreckage if he
couldn't get them any life-saving oxygen. It was hard to stomach
the thought that the remaining passengers that he hadn't been
able to reach would be lost to the depths of the ocean if he
abandoned them, but if he didn't, those he had freed wouldn't
have a chance, either. Concede and save some passengers or
continue on and save none? It was a dilemma that nobody should
have to face, especially not someone who called himself a hero,
but as frustrating as it was, he knew that there was only one
choice. His mind made up, CJ swam toward the freed passengers,
gathered as many as he could, and started for the surface.

He broke through the surface of the water with a gasp of breath.
Without thinking, he immediately turned to his charges, making
sure all their heads were above water before starting CPR as
best he could. He braced one arm under the person's back while
trying to do chest compressions with his free hand, but in every
case he was met with failure. A quick peek inside any one of
them could have told him the damage was done, but he ignored the
reality of the situation, continuing on in vain, talking to his
patients, urging them to take a breath. After a few minutes of
frantic action, even the eternal optimist inside of him
recognized that it was useless. CJ gave out a frustrated cry as
he flopped onto his back and stuck his arms out to the side,
turning his attention to the nearly cloudless blue sky above. He
didn't want to look at the water around him, at the bodies and
floating luggage and debris, the last remains of a doomed plane.
It was all so surreal, so terrible. The sky, at least, looked
like it always had, a tenuous link to reality in a world that
had now been turned upside down. He tried not to think about the
fact that everyone on that aircraft had been alive not half an
hour earlier, looking forward to vacations or business trips or
whatever else brought them to that airport. But now....

His thoughts were mercifully interrupted by two specks shooting
across the sky. CJ brought his arm up to signal them, and it was
only a moment later that his brother's hands grasped his, and he
was being pulled out of the water and into the air.

"CJ?" Jon asked, the surprise evident in his voice. "How did
you...? Did anyone survive?"

CJ shook his head. "Not that I can tell," he answered after a
moment. Their flight quickly brought them toward the shore,
which was only a few miles away from the crash site. As he
looked back toward where the plane had hit the water, he could
see a trail of debris strung out along the flight path, although
to look at it, one would never guess that it was the last
remnants of a major airliner. The rest had simply been consumed
by the ocean. "Nobody survived except me. Nobody could've," CJ
said, his voice sounding weak even to himself.

Jon stayed prudently silent. There was little doubt that he'd
seen similar things since donning the Crimson Superman costume,
and he probably knew it was true. CJ turned his attention back
toward their destination, which was rapidly approaching. The New
Troy coast was well-populated, the morning sun glinting off the
numerous houses that lined the shore. Docks pushed out into the
sea in regular intervals, and many of them were packed with
people trying to see the spectacle. Jon seemed to be veering
away from the crowds, though, toward a scrubby portion of
shoreline at the mouth of a large creek. "Where are we going?"
CJ asked.

"I'm going to put you down someplace quiet, isolated. Someplace
where you won't be seen," Jon answered with a nod toward their
destination. The nearest house was about a mile away, surely far
enough to ensure that there wouldn't be any unwelcome visitors.
The brothers quickly descended, landing amongst the trees.

"Are you going to be all right?" Jon asked as he released CJ's
hands.

CJ gave him a crooked smile. "I already survived the worst," he
said. "I think I can take care of myself until you guys get
done."

Jon nodded and made an attempt to return the smile, but he could
only manage a worried grimace. "Uh, well, then I guess I'll see
you in a few." With a nod, he took off faster than the human eye
could follow and returned to the scene of the crash to begin
cleaning things up.

***

As Jenny finally awoke, she stretched out in the bed that she
had all to herself, reveling for a moment in the feeling of the
warm sun against the bed sheets. She was acutely aware of how
precious mornings like these were, and how few and far between
they would be once she embarked on her life in the "real world."
The only thing that could make the moment better was to wake up
with her new husband nestled next to her. But, she thought with
a smile, technically this was the second time that she had
awoken that morning, and the first time she did have the
pleasure of waking up in his arms.

The sun hadn't been up yet when he had rolled out of bed. CJ
wasn't exactly a morning person, but he had been booked on the
red eye to Gotham, and the lines through the security checkpoint
at the Metropolis airport were notoriously slow. He had taken
all necessary precautions to avoid waking her as he got up, but
she had been able to sense the moment when he was no longer next
to her. She was discreet in watching him get ready, letting him
think that she was still asleep. There was just something about
him that she could never tire of seeing, be it his graceful,
fluid motions or his perfectly chiseled body. In any case, the
jig was up when he came over to give her a quick kiss before
leaving.

"Somebody's been sneaky," he said as he bent over and gave her a
peck on the forehead. Jenny reached up and wrapped one arm
around his neck, pulling his head back toward her so that she
could more properly wish him goodbye.

"Somebody wanted to get an eyeful of her husband before he left
her alone for two days," she answered after they pulled apart,
her lips barely an inch from his.

She could feel CJ smile. "Two days is hardly forever," he said
as he perched himself on the edge of the bed. "And it seems to
me that you'd be happy to be rid of the old ball and chain for a
while."

"Well, since you put it that way," she answered, and CJ feigned
a look of hurt. At her chuckle, he leaned over and planted
another small kiss on her lips.

"So, refresh my memory. Is there anything in particular that you
wanted me to look for while I'm house hunting in Gotham?" CJ
rose from the bed and walked over to grab his backpack.

Jenny rolled onto her back and pulled the sheet up over her
shoulders. "Oh, you know. White picket fence, lots of green
grass and big shady trees...something appropriate for 2.1 kids
and maybe a dog."

"Not a studio apartment. Check," he said. Jenny just smiled. The
banter was a good reason why she had married him. "If I find
something like that in fantasy land, though, I'll be sure to let
you know."

Jenny felt the urge to throw something at him, but it quickly
passed. "Okay, seriously, if you can find anything in a
neighborhood that isn't overrun with crime and violence, that's
all I ask," she said.

CJ, whose hand was resting on the bedroom doorknob, cocked his
head and gave her a sly grin. "You know, my job is going to be
fighting crime and violence. If I live in a neighborhood that's
too crime-free, it might make for a lot of long commutes...." He
trailed off. Apparently he had noticed the daggers in her eyes,
and gave her his most charming grin. "Have a good couple of
days," he said, swinging open the bedroom door. "I love you."

"I love you too," Jenny said, returning his smile. She watched
him leave, then rolled over and waited for the apartment door to
open and close before letting herself relax. If she hadn't known
any better, she would have thought that he looked anxious, and
she supposed she could understand why. They were both turning
the page to a new chapter in their lives, and he would be
leaving the only city he had ever known, the home of his family,
and going away to make another place his home. Truthfully, she
was a little nervous too. Maybe more nervous than she was
willing to admit, she thought with a frown as her stomach
clenched up. Ever since they had returned from the honeymoon she
hadn't felt well, especially in the mornings. At first it had
been attributed to the food on the cruise ship, although she
later decided it was anxiety. She got up and ran to the
bathroom, falling prey to whatever it was that was upsetting her
stomach, then returned to bed to try and sleep it off.

Now, as she laid in her bed and stared absently at the ceiling,
she began to wonder if maybe something else wasn't behind her
raw stomach. Food poisoning generally left her system within a
day or two, and even nerves had never made her as sick as she
had been lately. But, if she looked at things logically, the
pieces of this little puzzle could be put together to reach an
entirely different conclusion. She was sick in the mornings, and
was a little...late. Given the activities that she and CJ had
engaged in, starting around finals week and continuing regularly
since, it was very possible that she was.... Well, she thought
as she swung her legs around and rose from bed, no conclusions
would be reached until she took a certain test.

As she dressed and got herself ready for the day, her theory
wouldn't leave her mind and she knew it wouldn't until she
either confirmed her suspicion or was able to dismiss it as
wishful thinking. It was best to just get it over with then, she
thought, grabbing a granola bar as she passed through the
apartment and headed directly for the door and the corner
drugstore. It was hard to hold in her excitement, and she had to
stop herself from breaking out into a jog as she made the short
trip to the store and back. It was even harder not to notice the
little grin the cashier gave her as she checked out. Once back
at home, Jenny took a moment to calm her racing pulse, then
walked slowly to the bathroom, unwrapped the test, and did
everything that the instructions said. After waiting the longest
thirty seconds in her life, she picked up the test, looked in
the window, and then blinked a few times, just to be sure she
was seeing what she thought she was seeing.

"Oh my God," she said, reaching for the counter and guiding
herself along it until she was able to sit down on the toilet
lid. Maybe it was just as well that CJ was gone for a couple of
days, because she had no idea how to tell him the news. She
turned again toward the test, which was still firmly held in her
hand, and began trying to sort out how she felt. They had never
talked about the possibility of having a family, or even
contemplated whether they should HAVE a talk about having
children. On the other hand, they hadn't exactly been extra
cautious, either, and she supposed that in the backs of their
minds, they had just figured that, when the time was right, it
would just happen.

But the time sure didn't seem to be right. Were they old enough
to be parents? Were they responsible enough to be taking care of
a child? They were moving to a new city away from their family
and friends and now, on top of everything else, they would be
ushering a baby into the world. It seemed overwhelming, but at
the same time, she couldn't help but feel overjoyed. She knew
that she was grinning like an idiot, and she knew that she
probably would be for a large part of the next 8 months. No
matter what other emotions she held regarding her pregnancy, at
the root of it all was profound happiness and love for her
husband, even if it was all a little too much to process at the
moment.

Dazed, Jenny put the test on the counter and rose from the
toilet, placing her left hand over her lower belly as she
shuffled into the living room. She had to call her mother, then
Lois and Clark, then every obscure friend that she had made
throughout the years, she thought as she collapsed on the couch.
Then, once that was done, there was the business that needed to
be attended to here in Metropolis, finding a job in Gotham,
and...she had to stop her line of thought as she realized that
she was starting to hyperventilate. Calm yourself, Jenny, she
thought. Take it all one step at a time. Maybe take a few
minutes to let everything absorb. With a small nod, she picked
up the television remote, resolving to get lost in a game show
or soap opera for about half an hour before embarking on any
plan of action.

The television clicked on, but the show that was usually on that
channel at that time of morning had apparently been replaced by
some news coverage, the voice of the broadcaster conveying the
urgency of the situation. The picture, apparently taken from a
helicopter, showed a vast expanse of water with debris strewn
about it. Every now and then, one of the Supermen appeared on
the screen and then quickly vanished again. It looked like a
shipwreck or something, she thought as she relaxed against the
couch, placing the remote on the table. Disasters with Super
assistance, while tragic, seemed to be a common, everyday
experience around Metropolis. It was something that she was
going to miss in Gotham City.

"...I'm being told that the Supermen have been able to find no
survivors," the newscaster said as the picture swept across the
ocean surface. "The crash was in water at least two miles deep,
and recovery of most of the bodies and the wreckage is expected
to take several days, even with the help of Superman."

The picture switched to a man in the studio, who was looking
down at piece of paper on the desk in front of him. "The
aircraft, which held 225 passengers, was completely booked."
Aircraft? Jenny sat up and scooted fractionally closer to the
television. "Metro Air spokesman state that the early flight to
Gotham is generally popular, especially with the business class
passengers. It is also one of their more profitable routes, and
this accident could have a devastating effect on their
business."

Jenny's mouth went dry and her arms began to tingle. She was
pretty sure that CJ's flight was on Metro Air. But he had left
more than three hours ago. Surely it was some other flight. The
broadcaster never said the flight originated in Metropolis,
although that was the Metro Air hub.

"The passenger list will not be released pending notification to
the families of those lost. Meanwhile, an investigation by the
FAA is already underway. Needless to say, the crash of flight
329 is, and will be remembered as, one of the terrible airline
tragedies of our time."

Slowly, Jenny turned her attention to the coffee table in front
of the couch, and the small stack of papers that it held. It
tended to be the dumping ground for mail and various receipts
and notifications. The airline reservations had only been made a
few days earlier, and the confirmation would probably still be
on the coffee table. Her hands were shaky as she picked up the
papers and leafed through them, finally finding the sheet with
the Metro Air logo at the top. According to this, his flight
this morning was flight 329 to Gotham, departing roughly 45
minutes ago. The papers fluttered out of her hand as she stared
wide-eyed at the TV screen, numb. No survivors, they had said.
But it couldn't be true, could it? CJ had had a skyscraper
collapsed on top of him, she'd seen it. Surely he'd survived.
But even if he had, could anyone KNOW that he had?

It was then that the phone began to ring.

***

Since first donning the spandex a good thirty years earlier, it
was safe to say that Clark had seen his fair share of accident
scenes and disaster aftermaths. No two were alike, each having
their own unique characteristics. Even categories of disasters -
hurricanes, auto accidents, earthquakes - had unique cases, even
if there were some fundamental similarities between them.
Airline disasters certainly followed that template, too. In
certain situations, where there was a controls malfunction or a
fuel supply shortage for example, the problem could be known far
enough in advance to get some super help in bringing the plane
down. Other times, sudden accidents caused the plane to crash
without warning, but even then the circumstances could dictate
how many people survived. Airplane crashes didn't have to be
fatal, but under certain circumstances they were, and those were
the worst to handle.

As Clark hovered over the ocean and looked deep beneath the
waves to the wreckage of the plane below, he knew that this was
one of those circumstances. The body of the plane had been torn
apart, the wings ripped from the fuselage. Then, very quickly
after impact with the water, the aircraft had quickly plummeted
to the sea floor, taking almost everyone with it. Nobody should
have survived this crash. It was only thanks to his lineage that
CJ had survived, and Clark thanked every deity imaginable for
the fact that CJ was safe. But if he'd been any normal human
being, he would be down there with the rest, a victim of
horrible circumstance. It would be hard to explain the bodies
that were floating in the water above the wreckage, the ones
that CJ had apparently freed and tried to save. Even harder to
explain, though, would be a lone survivor showing up, one who
was miraculously unharmed.

Below, a boat carrying the officials involved with the crash
investigation circled the crash area, their data collection
already beginning. Most of those men were people that Clark had
met before at scenes similar to this one. He knew that they were
waiting for him to stop by and let them know what the situation
was, and he dreaded what it was that he was about to say. Jon
had already been sent away to retrieve CJ and take him home, and
Clark had been hovering in the air much longer than he needed to
assess the situation and complete his job. They were probably
wondering what the hold up was, he thought with a sigh, and
rightly so. It was time to face the music.

Quickly, Clark descended to the ship deck, quickly catching the
attention of the officials aboard. After a round of greetings
and handshaking, they got down to business.

"What's the assessment, Superman?" the man from the National
Transportation Safety Board asked.

Clark chose his words carefully. "I could not find any evidence
of survivors," he told them, hoping that none of them could hear
the discomfort in his voice. He wanted to leave some wiggle
room, if it was possible, on the off chance that maybe a way
could be found to make it so that CJ could be alive. It would
have been so absolute to state outright that nobody had
survived, and it seemed presumptive to all but declare his son
dead without talking to CJ first.

A few eyebrows rose at the statement, but nobody seemed to
question it. "Were there any obvious signs of a cause?" another
man asked. "Have you been able to locate the black box?" said a
third. Clark found himself more at ease as the subject of
survivors passed. He stayed long enough to answer their
questions, took a brief detour to the ocean floor to retrieve
the flight data recorders and return them to the investigators,
then made his way home. It was hard to escape the feeling of
finality that was building within him, one that suggested that
there would be no escaping the inevitable outcome. He just hoped
he was wrong.

***

CJ stepped out of the shower and toweled off, smiling a little
at the comfortable warmness of the steamy bathroom. The drowned
rat appearance was something that he was not fond of, and
neither was eau de salt water. A little soap and some time under
a showerhead could soothe away almost any problem, and for a
moment it had managed to make him forget about everything that
had happened that morning. But it only took a glance around the
bathroom and the acknowledgement of where he was and why to make
it all come back.

It was never any good to dwell on the negatives, CJ told himself
as he wrapped the towel around his waist and shuffled over to
the door. At least the sun was shining, right? As he opened the
door and walked out into the hallway, he noticed that the window
shades had been drawn, leaving him in relative darkness. Now
frowning, he made his way to his old bedroom, noting the closed
drapes. Apparently there was no sunbathing for him today.

"They don't want anyone to see you here." The voice came from
the general direction of his bed, which was pushed against the
wall adjacent to the door. With a start, CJ turned toward the
source of the comment, not really needing to see who it was to
know who had said the words. His smile immediately returned as
he drank in the sight of her.

"I guess I'm not very presentable right now, anyway," he said,
trying to make light of the situation. The corners of Jenny's
mouth turned up ever so slightly, the twinkle shining gently in
her eyes.

"I'd still peep on you," she said, and CJ felt a little of his
pent up anxiety ease away. He reached behind himself and closed
the bedroom door, giving them a little more privacy. Jenny
patted the bed beside her, and he quickly strode over and sat
down where she had indicated. He regarded her as he sat, and
wondered for a moment if she had been having the same thoughts
that he had. If she had, she probably wouldn't be nearly as
outwardly calm as she appeared at the moment. It was nice to
keep the unreality of the situation at an arms length, to
pretend that everything is as it always had been and that
nothing has changed, but at some point they had to be honest
with themselves about what had happened.

With a sigh, CJ leaned against the wall, grabbing for Jenny's
hand as he did. "How are you doing?" he asked, not knowing where
else to start. Jenny shrugged and scooted back until she was
also against the wall.

"Fine, I guess. But something tells me that I won't be pretty
soon. How about you?" She leaned over, resting her head on his
shoulder. CJ closed his eyes and released her hand, wrapping his
arm around her shoulders.

"As good as can be expected for someone who rode a jumbo jet
into the Atlantic from five miles up," he said, tightness
creeping into his voice. "I'm still here, but by all rights, I
should be...."

"Dead," Jenny said, completing his sentence. She sighed.
"Something tells me that, in an official sense, you already
are."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his arm around her shoulders pulling
her closer toward him. "I was sitting there in the mud this
morning, hiding away from humanity and watching Dad and Jon do
their work at the crash site, and it occurred to me that there
might not be a way out of this one," he said, gesturing with his
free hand. "I mean, here I am, holed up in the house I grew up
in, stuck behind closed blinds so that no living soul outside of
this family can know I'm here. That's not like pretending to not
be as strong as I am or not using heat vision or cooling breath
in public. You can't dismiss yourself from an event that killed
everyone else around you. You can't pretend to not be dead."

"Maybe you didn't get on the plane. Maybe you ducked away
somewhere between the gate and the door," Jenny said, but CJ
only shook his head. He'd considered both of those scenarios,
desperately hoping that they were just enough to let him be
officially alive, but he knew that there was no way that either
could explain his situation.

"With the state of security these days, they know exactly who
gets on every flight, and they have cameras following you all
the way down that walkway and onto the plane. If you could
somehow squeeze through that little gap between the gate and the
body of the plane and then jump ten feet to the ground, there
are dozens of workers around to catch you. The passenger
manifest will come out soon, and I'll be on it, and there will
be no going back." Silence fell across the room and neither of
them spoke. CJ's eyes surveyed the surroundings, looking at all
his old belongings, the trophies and awards and silly little
trinkets that he never really paid much attention to before. But
now they stood as reminders to a life that he would have to
simply walk away from.

"I'm 22 years old. I know that I was planning to move out of
Metropolis, but to never be able to come back to all this, to my
family, to you. I can't be dead."

Jenny smiled ever so slightly. "You're not dead. Your name is
dead, but you, the person behind the mask, so to speak, walked
away from it unscathed," she said, and he caught himself smiling
lightly, too, but it quickly faded.

"Yeah, I did. But now what? We had plans, jobs...a future. We
barely had a past."

"Nobody can take away your memories or your past experiences.
For what it's worth, I'm pretty sure you can still have your
job," Jenny answered as she lifted her head from his shoulder.
"You don't need to be Clark Kent to be Batman."

"True," he said with an appreciative duck of the head.

"As for our future, well, you did agree to the whole 'till death
do we part' thing, and I don't expect this one little
technicality to void that. We'll make it work; we'll have
to...for the good of our child."

The mild depression that had settled over CJ suddenly went away,
and he found that he couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't
move. In slow motion, his eyes found hers, then wandered down
her body until they reached her belly. "You...?" he finally
rasped, his mouth dry.

She nodded. "I found out right before I saw the news," she said,
a smile on her face. Impulsively, he leaned over and kissed her
deeply, possessively. Her arms reached behind his bare torso and
she pulled him toward her, both tumbling over onto their sides
on the bed. No, he couldn't walk away from this, wouldn't even
dream about walking away from this. He wouldn't let something as
insignificant as death tear him away from the future that they
had planned for, together. She was right, they would have to
make it work some way. But how?

He pulled away from her reluctantly, a dark corner of his mind
telling him that whatever the solution was, it wasn't going to
be easy. Would they have to sneak around under the cover of
night, meeting covertly in secret places? What kind of a life
would that be? If it wasn't for that damn plane wreck....

Jenny's hand brushed against his cheek, urging him away from his
dark mood. "Since when did you become the type to wallow?" she
asked, her smile playful.

"I'm sorry," he said, marveling at how well she could sense his
moods. "I guess it's just a lot to take in. Death...life...it's
a funny world."

"Tell me about it," she answered, coaxing a grin out of him.

"So, are you going to be okay?" he asked as he rolled onto his
side next to her.

Jenny shrugged again. "I guess we'll see. I've never been one to
live life by the seat of my pants, but until we get it all
figured out, that's what we'll have to do."

"But what about -" he started, but she reached over and placed a
finger on his lips.

"It's too soon to start worrying about things. Wait a few days
for the dust to settle. Call Mr. Wayne, see what you can work
out. He called me this morning, by the way."

"He did?" CJ asked

"Right after I saw the news," Jenny said with a nod. "He wanted
to talk to you, whenever you got a minute."

CJ sat up, his mind working. Bruce wanted to talk to him? Maybe
he wanted to update their schedule, maybe he was just expressing
his condolences. Or, he thought with a new kernel of hope, maybe
Bruce had a plan.

With a grunt, Jenny pushed herself into a sitting position, then
patted him on the shoulder. "I'll let you get ready. Some
clothes from home are over on the dresser." She leaned over and
gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then stood up and took a
step toward the door. "Since you're going to be officially
deceased soon, maybe we should make the most of the rest of the
day, right here with your family. They're waiting downstairs."

CJ nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that." With that, she gave him a
smile, then left his room. It was still hard to grasp the idea
that he would have to just disappear, that he could never visit
this place after tonight. What was it that he had told himself
earlier? It was best not to dwell on the negative. And with so
much positive in his life, even after "death," it was advice
best taken. With a new sense of purpose, he readied himself to
join his family for possibly the last time.

***

"I think I see a ghost," Laura said as CJ made his way down the
stairs. Clark held his breath for a moment, waiting to see CJ's
reaction, and was relieved to see a self-effacing smile spread
across his face.

"Be glad I'm not a zombie," CJ replied, his sense of humor
obviously still intact.

Jon, leaning against the wall across from the staircase, decided
to chip in. "Well, he has been known to crave brains. You know,
in his dates and stuff."

Everyone smiled. There was something about a little ribbing that
made all the problems go away. Humor was a constant presence in
their house, especially when most of the family was gathered,
but Clark couldn't help but feel that there was a bit of a
bittersweet tinge to it today. The get-together was spontaneous,
born of an inherent understanding on everyone's part of what the
near future would hold. By the time Clark had returned from
helping out at the crash site, Jon had already gone to get
Jenny, and Lois had excused the whole family from work for the
rest of the day, telling their editor as much of the truth as
she could. How she had known that CJ was on that plane, he still
didn't know. Diane had promised to stop by after work, and Laura
had decided to skip her summer class for the sake of spending a
day at home.

What everybody knew but nobody wanted to say was that, barring a
miracle or a brilliant stroke of deductive reasoning, CJ would
be officially listed as a casualty of the plane crash. Of course
he would still be very much alive, and they would be able to see
him covertly, but they could never publicly be

together as a family again. Publicly they would have to be the
grieving family, and even privately there might be a fair amount
of gloom. The situation would also mean that there was one more
secret to add to the growing list of family secrets, and
something told Clark that this one might be hard to keep. To
only be able to talk about his son in the past tense would be
especially hard.

From behind him, Lois placed a hand on his shoulder, breaking
his train of thought. He looked at her, and she just smiled
knowingly, her expression telling him that he worried too much.
"Who wants sandwiches?" she asked loudly, looking away from him
and toward the assembled family in the living room, essentially
dropping the subject of his tendency to fret until they had a
little time alone. Clark turned and slipped his arm around her
waist, watching Laura, Jenny, and Jon file past them into the
dining room. He tried to put on a better face for them, to join
in the laughter even if it was tinged with sadness, but he knew
that there was something that he had to do before he could put
his anxiety aside.

"We'll just be a sec," he told Lois as CJ finished descending
the stairs and approached. She nodded, and he released her,
gesturing to CJ to follow him toward the den. CJ looked back
toward the rest of the family, shrugged comically, then strode
behind Clark to the den. Clark closed the doors behind him.

"What's up?" CJ asked as he settled into the small love seat.
Clark sat down at the desk, swiveled the chair, and regarded CJ
for a moment. Even away from the rest of the assembled family,
CJ still appeared to be in good spirits, although by all rights
he should be at least somewhat upset.

"I just wanted to talk about what happened today, and try to
figure out what the plan is from here on out," Clark said. "When
I talked to the guys from the FAA and NTSB, I left the door open
for possible survivors."

CJ's smile was grateful, yet resigned. "But how?" he asked. "I
think you and I both know that there's no way there could've
been any out of a crash like that."

Clark sighed and nodded. "That doesn't stop the fact that there
was one." Clark glanced out the door, toward the dining room,
then looked back toward CJ. "There's quite a brain trust
assembled out there. I'm sure we can think of something."

CJ nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "I guess it won't
do any harm to toss a few thoughts around," he said, then looked
back toward Clark, all

humor now absent from his face. "In the absence of anything
plausible, though, I think Laura's right. I'm a ghost. And I
have made peace with that."

Clark frowned at his words, causing CJ's expression soften.
"Look, Dad, it's just a name that's gone." CJ smiled lightly,
glancing down at Clark's chest before meeting his eyes again. "I
think this family knows a thing or three about assuming
identities. Anyway, being 'dead' won't mean that I'll forget
about you guys." CJ used his fingers to add quotes to the word
"dead," and Clark couldn't help but smile at his optimism.

"No, you're right. But I just want to be sure that you've
thought about what it means, that's all. To not see any of your
friends or family again, to never be able to talk to anyone
about what you saw and did before you assumed your new
identity." Clark's voice got soft as he looked at Jenny in the
room beyond. "To turn your back on your soul mate."

CJ shook his head, the good humor dropping from his face. "Jenny
and I will make it work somehow. I'm not about to let her go.
But all that other stuff...." His expression was sad, but the
light in his eyes was warm as he looked directly at Clark.
"Coming up with some lamebrain, implausible excuse to explain
away my survival might mean that people take a closer look at
me, and then at my family. If I say that some magic force
rescued me from harm while everyone else died, someone is quite
justifiably going to start digging into the real reason why, and
in doing so might stumble upon the big secret and expose you and
Jon and everyone else. I'd gladly give up my identity if it
means not exposing everyone else's."

For a moment, Clark was too shocked to do much more than gape at
his son. Then a deep sense of pride washed over him, and he had
to stop himself from pulling CJ into a bear hug. "I guess I
can't argue with that logic," Clark finally said with a smile.
CJ's expression morphed into the lopsided mischievous grin that
Clark was all too familiar with, and suddenly everything seemed
like it had always been.

"Don't say I never gave you anything," CJ said, and Clark found
himself laughing gently, shaking his head.

"I'm sure going to miss your visits around here, kiddo," Clark
replied, rising from the chair and reaching out to tousle CJ's
hair, just like he used to when CJ was younger.

"That makes two of us," CJ answered, his smile fading a little
at the serious undertones of their conversation, even if it was
meant to be light. "So, uh, how about I give you another little
something to remember tonight by?"

"Like...?" Clark took a step toward the door, intending for him
and CJ to join the rest of the family around the lunch table,
but curiosity halted his forward progress.

"Some long distance charges. I need to give Bruce a call. Jenny
said that he phoned the apartment this morning right after the
accident."

"He did, huh?" Clark replied, his smile widening a bit. Bruce
always seemed to have something interesting up his sleeve, and
Clark couldn't help but wonder what it was in this circumstance.
As CJ nodded, Clark opened the door. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll be
interested to hear what he has to say."

With that, Clark walked out of the den and closed the door,
giving CJ some privacy while he made his call. Clark would be
the first to admit that he tended to internalize things, to
scare himself with the possible negative scenarios that could
come out of any given situation, and he had no doubt that he
would be doing just that if he hadn't pulled CJ aside and talked
the situation through. Time and time again, he was amazed at how
outwardly negative situations could become positive, and how
resilient and upbeat people could be when faced with adversity.
He wouldn't lie to himself and say that CJ's predicament was
bound to lead to a rosy outcome, but at the same time, CJ had a
good head on his shoulders, a positive outlook and an ally in
Bruce Wayne who was used to producing unique solutions to tough
problems.

Not for the first time, Clark wondered how it was that Mad Dog
Lane and a neurotic superhero managed to bring into the world
children who so completely lacked their parents' character
flaws, but quickly dismissed the thought with a smile and a
shake of his head. Some mysteries were just best left
unanswered.

***

The rest of the day at the Kent house seemed to fly by. The
family spent most of the afternoon in the backyard after a quick
scan revealed that all the surrounding neighbors were safely off
at work. Although the temperature was enough to make the average
mortal somewhat uncomfortable, Clark and the younger Kents
played a spirited game of football without even a passing
acknowledgement of the heat. Lois, Jenny, and later Diane
gathered in a shady spot under one of the large trees, sipping
lemonade and occasionally playing cheerleader. They shared
interesting anecdotes about their husbands in hushed tones,
eliciting giggles that drew worried glances from the men. As the
afternoon changed to evening and it became time for the
neighbors to arrive home, they all moved inside and gathered
around the kitchen table for supper and then to play games.

Somewhere along the way, the games stopped and the story telling
began as the family migrated to the more comfortable couches and
chairs of the living room. Clark told of the time that he had
officially died, and how it had just happened to occur while
investigating a case in which a scientist was bringing dead
gangsters back from the grave. It made for a happy coincidence,
although Jenny noted that Lois looked a little less than happy
while the story was being told. As the conversation moved on,
they reminisced of family vacations in times gone by, of
developing powers and new experiences, and of graduations and
weddings and borrowed abilities that materialized as interesting
Christmas gifts and faded out with the coming of a particularly
lovely spring. The memories were all happy, the love palpable.
Once the old stories began to run out and the conversation began
to die down, CJ finally announced to the family that Lois and
Clark were going to be grandparents, throwing in a couple of
jokes about the fact. A bottle of champagne emerged from the
refrigerator a short time later as everyone congratulated the
new parents-to-be and toasted to what could only be a bright
future.

After a while, when the sun had gone down and the eyelids of the
assembled family members began to droop, CJ took Jenny's hand,
dismissed them from the rest of the family, and led her to the
backyard. They settled down in the lawn chairs, leaned back, and
gazed up toward the sea of stars in the pristine sky above,
their hands still entwined. Jenny tried not to think about the
fact that this was probably his goodbye to her.

"Bruce wants me to go to Gotham tonight. For good. He basically
said what you had earlier, that my night job was still there for
me, dead identity or no. Today's events would just speed up the
transition a little," CJ said, and Jenny nodded. "But there was
something else."

"Something else?"

"Something big. I could tell in his voice. He's always so
straightforward and serious, you know? But on the phone, he
almost seemed nervous. He's the last person in the world that
I'd ever see as nervous."

Above them, an airplane flew from south to north, its lights
blinking gently as it made its way across the sky. "Well, you
know him a lot better than I do, but yeah. Weird." Jenny sighed.
"So then...."

"Then," CJ said, turning toward her. "He told me in no uncertain
terms that you should keep your plans and head on out to Gotham.
Though I don't think I'm going to be much help in finding your
big shade trees and white picket fence."

"If you're there, it could have big cockroaches and barred
windows, and I wouldn't care," Jenny said with a smile. CJ
tugged gently at her arm, and her smile broadened. Slowly, she
turned in the chair until she was sideways,

facing him. "Yes?" she said with a giggle.

"Come here," he said, patting his lap. "Give a dead guy a
kiss."

"How romantic." She smirked as she rose from the chair, then
took a step sideways and eased into his lap, immediately leaning
down and gently kissing him.

"Might I recommend, though, that if you fly out to Gotham to
visit, you take Superman Express," CJ said, a serious tone in
his voice.

"I think that's definitely going to be the only way I fly for
awhile," Jenny answered. She curled up against his chest,
resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm going to miss you," she
said after a moment.

CJ sighed heavily, then captured her lips again. "Not for long,"
he said after they pulled apart.

"I hope not." The cicadas hummed gently in the trees along the
back of the property, and Jenny closed her eyes and smiled a
little, trying to capture the moment.

"I love you, you know. I always will." His voice was soft, the
usual teasing undertones absent. The hand perched on her waist
wandered to her belly, slipping gently under her shirt. "Both of
you."

The reality of the situation seemed to hit her at that moment.
Until everything got sorted out, until Bruce enacted whatever
big plan he had brewing and CJ assumed whatever new identity he
would have, moments like these would be few and far between.
They might end up in the same city, but they could be worlds
apart, especially if they couldn't see each other publicly.
Jenny buried her face against his neck and felt a tear make its
way down her cheek. "I love you too."

She didn't know how long they sat like that. It felt like an
eternity, but as he repositioned his arms and rose up from the
chair with her gathered against him, it seemed to be far too
short.

"It's getting late, and we all need to get going. Tomorrow's
going to be a busy day," he said. She tilted her head back,
locked eyes with him, and then nodded gently. Slowly, he leaned
over and she slipped out of his arms, planting her feet on the
ground. Hand in hand, they walked into the house, where the
assembled family appeared to be chatting normally, outwardly
oblivious to their return, but everyone's eyes seemed to say
otherwise.

A few minutes later, after the family said their goodbyes, CJ
and Clark left for Gotham. Before they left, Jenny made sure to
stop Clark and plant a big wet kiss on his cheek, just to thank
him. CJ had survived that crash and for that she was grateful
beyond words. If he had been any normal mortal, he wouldn't
have, and she would be mourning his passing rather than
lamenting the inconvenience of his temporary absence from her
life. It was thanks to Clark being who he was, for being CJ's
father, that CJ wasn't just any normal mortal, and for that
Clark deserved to know how grateful she was. He was somewhat
startled by her kiss, and seemed acutely embarrassed, but he
accepted her thanks graciously.

Shortly thereafter, Jon and Diane gave Jenny a ride home. As she
stood outside the apartment building, hand on the front door,
and watched the two of them drive away, she became aware for the
first time that she was lonely. The feeling followed her down
the hallway and up the stairs, strengthening as she unlocked her
door and stepped inside. It was strange how empty and cold the
apartment felt, she thought as she flipped the light switch and
turned to lock the door behind her. This was the apartment that
CJ had lived in throughout his time in college, at first sharing
it with his brother, and for about the last year or so, sharing
it with Jenny. To her, this was his place, and his mark was all
over it, from the picture of Einstein hanging on the living room
wall to the framed pictures of his Metropolis University
football teams that were perched on the coffee tables flanking
the couch. His shoes still sat on a mat by the front door, and
the faint odor of his aftershave seemed to permeate everything,
giving the apartment a fragrant tinge. It was comforting in a
way to have all these reminders of him surrounding her if he
couldn't be there himself, she supposed, and she always had her
happy memories of him to keep her company, but they were no
substitute for his presence.

With a sigh, she flopped down on the couch and decided to chase
away some of the loneliness by phoning her mother. It was a
phone call that she was dreading, one that would be filled with
the best and worst of news, and with a few horrible lies. Her
parents still didn't know that CJ was the son of one Superman
and the brother of another, nor did they know what the real
motivation had been for their initial decision to move to Gotham
City. Before today's accident, she had no qualms about leaving
them in the dark, about omitting certain details about the Kent
family that they really didn't need to know. It wasn't lying
that way, she supposed, and CJ had agreed with her. But that
meant that tonight, she would have to tell them that CJ was on
that plane, and as soon as they inevitably asked if he was dead,
she would have to tell her first lie. Her parents deserved to
know the truth, they deserved to not have to go through the
grieving process, but she couldn't think of a way to tell them
without opening up a whole different can of worms. Maybe Lois
and Clark would have some thoughts on the matter, and maybe,
before it was all over with, she could get the truth out in the
open. But for now, as much as she hated it, she had to swallow
her fears and make the call.

The talk went about as she expected. Jenny told them the bad
news first, cringing as her mother started to cry over the
phone. She tried to soften the blow with the news of her
pregnancy, but that only made her mother cry harder. Jenny told
her that her baby would know at the very least that he or she
had a father who loved him or her very much, and that stopped
the tears, at least for a moment. Despite the fact that CJ had
only recently fallen victim to an airplane crash, Jenny's
parents told her that they would take the next available flight
to Metropolis, and that any further conversation could wait
until then. Her parents agreed to give her a call once they knew
their flight details, and that was that. She would need the
support of the Kents to get her through her parent's visit, and
after a short call to Lois, Jenny was assured that she wouldn't
have to face them alone. That was something, at least.

Not too much later, right before the late news, the airline
called. The Metro Air representative told Jenny in soothing yet
matter-of-fact tones that CJ was among the dead from the crash
of Flight 329. Jenny replied that she knew that already, and
thought about asking how many other phone call recipients had
honestly been unaware of the fate of their loved one. The rest
of the conversation was mercifully short. Jenny assumed that she
had been the last relative of a traveler to be informed of their
loved ones' fates, given how often the airline's phone number
had showed up in the caller ID list from that day. If that were
the case, it meant that there was nothing stopping the airline
from releasing the list to the public, allowing the real circus
to begin. It was only about ten minutes later that a lawyer
called. Apparently, a class action lawsuit against the airline
was already being prepared, in the name of everyone that had
fallen victim to whatever wrong the lawyer thought was
committed. Jenny told him to take a hike, then unplugged her
phone. It was definitely time to get some sleep and put this day
behind her.

With a sigh, she walked into her bedroom, looked at the bed
where she had awoken alone that morning, and thought of the
prospect of weeks or months with nobody by her side. At least he
was here in spirit, she thought, pulling back the sheet. As she
laid down, she looked toward the door, where she had officially
seen her husband last, remembering their conversation with a
crooked smile. Like he had said then, it wasn't forever. But she
had no doubt that it would feel like it.

After a while, she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

***

Jon Kent couldn't help but notice the sideways looks that he got
as he made his way into work the next morning. His parents had
taken the day off, outwardly to help take care of arrangements,
although he suspected that they would be spending a lot of their
time lending moral support to Jenny. Her parents were supposed
to be flying in from Missouri that day, and he knew that they
would all be getting together later. It was a gathering that he
hoped to avoid. Trying to act the part of the bereaved brother
consoling the grieving in-laws was not something that he looked
forward to. Besides, his vacation time was somewhat scarce,
thanks to a recent cyclone in the Indian Ocean. So here he was,
working. Nobody said it would be easy, though.

He tried to avoid eye contact with his colleagues, keeping his
gaze downward as he wound his way toward his desk. The passenger
list of the doomed flight had been released the night before,
and was a front page headline on every major paper in America.
In tragedies like this, reporters tended to pick out the names
of those that might have even minor celebrity status, and CJ's
name fit the bill, even at papers other than those in
Metropolis. He had been the son of fairly well-known,
award-winning reporters. He had also been a four-year letter
winner on a major, successful, college football program, landing
his obituary on more than a few sports pages throughout the
country. The Daily Planet had a nice sidebar on their personal
connection to CJ, written by Jimmy and a few other reporters
that had known the Kent family for a long time. The coverage
didn't bother Jon, honestly. He was just glad that he hadn't
been asked to participate in any of it. But as big as the story
was, there were still plenty of other interesting things
happening throughout Metropolis and the rest of the world, and
that was what he hoped to work on that day.

Coworkers stopped by throughout the morning to offer Jon their
condolences, and he accepted them all graciously, although he
hated the deception. The interruptions made his work slow going,
but he managed to hunt down a few promising leads on possible
stories. He decided it would probably be less stressful to
continue his investigations out of the office, and was just
getting up to leave when his phone rang. It was probably another
condolence call, he thought gloomily as he reached down to pick
it up.

"Jon Kent," he said crisply, trying not to let his growing bad
mood show through.

"Hey stranger." Diane was on the other end of the line, a fact
that made his bad mood instantly clear up and a small smile
appear on his face. He sat back down in his chair and set his
briefcase beside him.

"Hey yourself. To what do I owe the pleasure?" For someone who
had been more than a little unfriendly toward the press at the
beginning of her police career, Diane had become one of Jon's
best sources for interesting or unique stories. She was
constantly giving him tips based on things that she had seen or
heard around the police station. Many of the stories were of odd
arrests, or of shady goings on that the police had been
investigating but were unable to pursue due to lack of evidence
or some other technicality. Often the Planet could acquire
information in ways that the police could not, and while such
information was generally not useful to a police case, it could
be utilized to find some that was, leading to the mutually
beneficial arrest of a criminal and a front page story for the
Planet. Sometimes, the best the Planet could do would be to
publicize a story to get an outcome that, while often still not
resulting in criminal charges, could at least alert the world to
the problem, or finger someone as being the piece of trash that
they were. Jon always felt that the part of Diane that had led
her to become a cop and later, for a while at least, a
superhero, the part that valued law and order and justice, was
satisfied with that arrangement, especially if it meant that the
public good was ultimately fulfilled in an honest manner.

"I heard an interesting story around the station this morning,"
Diane said. Jon reached for a pen and a notepad, and poised
himself to take down her information.

"Yeah?" he said, coaxing her on.

"The Metro Air corporate office is a pretty popular place this
morning, given what happened yesterday. The big three networks
are camped out front, bugging the employees and what not, trying
to get quotes."

"Just like they always do after something big."

"Yeah," Diane said, sensing the slight distaste in his words.
Jon definitely was not keen on the in-your-face style of
journalism. "Anyway, a couple of our guys got sent down there to
deal with them, and it came back that reporters weren't the only
ones harassing the company."

"Oh?"

"There's this group of protesters with signs. But it's not a
consumer safety group or grieving families or anything like
that. Apparently the signs read something to the effect of,
'Metro Air and its customers got what they deserved.' Real sick
stuff. Stuff the big three networks even had the good taste to
ignore."

Jon felt his mouth grow dry and his lip curl up. Sick was
probably the kindest word he'd use for those people. "Nobody
deserves a death by plane crash," Jon rasped.

"No," Diane said, her voice sympathetic. "And I personally think
that these yahoos should get all the screen time they can, just
so people can see what kind of twisted nutbags are out there.
But that's not why I called." She stopped for a second, took a
breath, and continued, her voice businesslike. "The interesting
part of the story is that some guys around here have said that
those same protesters were out in front of the Metro Air offices
fairly regularly before the crash, holding similar signs. Metro
Air is a big corporation that mistreats its workers, has dupes
for customers, and should be destroyed plane by plane, stuff
like that."

"So either it's a big coincidence that one of their planes just
happened to go down, or...."

"I don't like to speculate about something like that," Diane
said.

Jon leaned back in his seat, his mind spinning. "They've had a
history with their unions, if I recall. Went and hired a bunch
of replacement workers when one of the unions went on strike."

"Yeah I think I remember hearing something about that," Diane
said thoughtfully. "They also cut all their employee benefits
and pensions to avoid Chapter 11, I think."

"So you have the potential for a lot of people who could have a
lot of hard feelings."

"And don't discount the number of whackos and conspiracy
theorists looking for any excuse to be mad at big companies. If
the two happen to find each other, who knows what could
happen."

"Gosh, that sounds suspiciously like a conspiracy theory," Jon
said with a grin. "I'm surprised, you know, coming from someone
who doesn't like to speculate about things."

"I'm just thinking out loud. It's not my job to go chasing after
every farfetched scenario, especially absent any type of
evidence. We leave the conspiracy theories to you guys," Diane
said, her smile coming through in her voice. When they first
met, Diane wasn't much for teasing, but a little time around his
family had brought out a keen ability to give as good as she
got.

"Hey, conspiracies sell," he said in a light tone. "And every
now and then they turn out to be true."

"Sasquatch would beg to differ," she said, and he laughed
lightly.

"Anyway, thanks for the tip," he said, the light tones quickly
dropping from his voice. "Not that I have anything against
theories, I just hope that you're right and there's nothing here
to speculate about. Still, I have a bad feeling in the pit of my
stomach."

"Yeah, me too," she said quietly.

"I'll keep you informed. See you tonight?"

"Always. Love you."

"Love you, too." With that, he put the phone down, and stared
blankly at his desk for a moment. It seemed horrific to even
speculate that a plane crash could be anything other than an
accident. Even if there were some crazy people out there who
thought that business in general was wrong, who thought that a
given company's policies were unfair or even criminal, surely
they wouldn't advocate that people should die as a result. He
could see these people making the argument that the customers
were not innocents, that they contributed to the problem, but to
even think about killing in the name of an ideology, or as a
form of protest? And even if one group advocated such a thing,
how could anyone have the heart to go through with it?

The thought of domestic terrorists was a scary one, but it
seemed pretty far-fetched, even for someone who spent a fair
amount of time chasing after wild theories. Jon wanted to
believe that rational human beings wouldn't do such a thing, but
realistically, he lived in a world where terrorism did exist,
even on American soil. It was worth taking a look at these
people, if only to ease his fears. Plus, Diane was right. Maybe
someone needed to get the story of these people out there if
only to stir up public outrage.

Slowly, Jon rose to his feet and picked up his briefcase. Maybe
speaking with one of the protestors would tell him everything he
needed to know. And if not, well, he had other ways of finding
out the truth. His mind made up, he strode toward the elevators.
Next stop, Metro Air headquarters.

---

Jon paid the cabbie and exited onto the street in front of an
unassuming office building. He looked up, squinting as the sun
glinted off the mirrored glass that stretched to a height that
was fairly modest by Metropolis business district standards.
Television vans, their broadcast antennas hoisted high into the
air, lined the street opposite the building, and the assembled
media mob looked fairly bored. On the sidewalk next to where Jon
had emerged from the cab, a small group of protestors marched in
a tight circle, carrying placards. Most of the people who passed
by didn't give the protestors more than a sideways glance. To be
sure, the business district tended to have its fair share of
sidewalk protests, generally to dispute working conditions or
materials that were being used by the company. But it wasn't
very often that a protest group actually celebrated the deaths
of innocent people.

Diane's informant had been very accurate. The signs being
carried had several different messages, including, "Good
Riddance, Flight 329," and "Corporate Greed Kills." The
assembled mob wasn't chanting anything, preferring instead to
chat amongst themselves, occasionally yelling something at
people emerging from the office building that housed Metro Air.
Jon felt the bile rise in his throat as he observed the scene
from a distance. Slowly he approached the mob, which was flanked
by a couple of police officers who appeared embarrassed to be
there. Jon recognized one of the officers as working at Diane's
precinct, and he approached him first.

"Hey, Jones," Jon said, extending his hand toward the officer.
Startled, Jones looked toward Jon, an impatient expression on
his face which quickly went away when he caught sight of who had
called his name.

"Kent, what brings you down here?" Jones asked, grabbing Jon's
hand. Jon pointed his free thumb toward the protestors, causing
Jones to make a face. "What's the world come to, eh?" Jones
said.

Jon shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder," he answered. Jones
released his hand and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment as
if trying to remember something, then a look of horror came over
his face.

"Didn't I hear that you lost a brother in that crash?" he asked.
Jon nodded. "Oh, man, I'm so sorry to hear that."

"Thanks," Jon said.

Jones turned toward the protestors, his eyes narrowed into
slits, an angry expression now on his face. "You lose someone
close to you, your own brother, and all these jerks can say is
that they're glad he's dead. Makes me sick."

"Even if my brother hadn't died, it would still make me sick.
Who has such little regard for human life?"

Jones nodded. "If I weren't here in a professional capacity, I'd
give 'em a piece of my mind."

Jon gave a half smile and clapped his hand on Jones' shoulder,
drawing his attention away from the protestors. "The power of
the press, you know?" Jon said, bringing a knowing smile to the
cop's face.

"Can't be easy to be objective on this one," Jones said, and Jon
shrugged.

In both his capacity as a reporter and a superhero, Jon believed
in giving people the benefit of the doubt. He didn't generally
question intentions, didn't try to interpret meaning in things
outside of what the facts said. Yes, there was speculation, but
speculation was most useful in trying to find the truth, not in
assigning any type of final condition. But in this case,
speculation aside, the facts were that these people thought it
was right that innocent people had died. "You can't be objective
when talking about people who want other people dead. Period."
Jon was aware that there was an edge to his voice.

Jones smiled lightly. "You get 'em, man. Splash 'em all over the
front page. Let the world see what kinds of sickos are out
there."

Jon smiled back. "So what have you seen since you've been here?"
he asked.

Jones gestured toward the door. "Poor employees and customers
getting yelled at. Stuff nobody should have to hear. You know,
'How does it feel to know you got someone killed?' and stuff
like that. I try not to pay attention."

"I don't blame you."

"I get stuck with protecting the first amendment rights of these
clowns. Almost makes me nostalgic for a good old fashioned drug
bust or shootout or something."

"Yeah, I hear you," Jon mumbled, drawing a curious look from
Jones. Jon gave a half smile and took a step toward the
protestors. "Well, it was good talking to you. Time to get back
to the old grind. Give my best to your wife."

"Likewise," Jones said with a small wave of the hand. "And my
condolences to your family."

Jon raised his hand in greeting, gave Jones a quick nod, and
then turned his attention toward the mob. A few people seemed to
notice that he was talking to one of the cops, but most of the
others seemed more interested in what was going on at the office
building entrance. Jon watched them for a moment, trying to see
if anyone emerged as a leader, but nobody seemed to assert
himself. With a sigh, Jon reached for his notebook and pen, and
approached one of the protestors.

"Hello, excuse me," he said, drawing the person's attention. The
man appeared to be college aged, maybe a year or so younger than
CJ. He wore a black t-shirt with a head shot of the president of
the United States inside a large "no" symbol. His long, dark
hair looked like it suffered from a lack of attention. As the
man regarded Jon, he looked more annoyed than anything else.

"What?" the man asked, his progress now halted and his sign
propped against his shoulder. Around him, his fellow protestors
continued to march.

"My name in Jon Kent, and I'm with the Daily Planet."
Immediately, the mob seemed to stop, turning their attention
toward Jon. "I was wondering if you could tell me a little bit
about the group you represent."

Another man pushed his way through the crowd, tapping the first
man on the shoulder as he opened his mouth to speak. Although
the second man appeared to be a little more clean-cut, the
political message on his t-shirt left something to be desired.
"We're a group called Americans for Responsible Business," he
said. "We believe that corporations should be held responsible
for the greed and destruction that they bring to this country."

Jon raised his eyebrows and scribbled some notes. "And what has
Metro Air done to bring you here?" he asked.

"About everything a corporation can do. Profited while keeping
its employees at a substandard wage, polluted the air and water,
forced its competitors out of the market...."

"And the crash of Flight 329?"

The spokesman smiled, his expression outwardly cordial. Jon
admitted that, although he had spent a few years doing the
superhero thing, he had very rarely run into someone who could
be considered a megalomaniac, someone who would take perverse
pleasure at the suffering of others. On the few occasions that
he had, though, there had been something about them that had
given him a chill, something in their demeanor that made the
hairs on the back of his neck stand up. As he looked into the
eyes of the spokesman, he got that same feeling, and had to
fight hard not to let the shock show on his face.

"We believe that justice visits those who have it coming. Metro
Air temped fate for a long time. Perhaps fate struck back."

"What about the innocent people on board at the time? What do
you have to say to their families?"

The spokesman shrugged, his smile unfaltering. "Those who do
business with the devil are bound to suffer. It's a shame, but
fate doesn't discriminate between those committing evil and
those who are merely enabling evil to be committed."

It was hard to write. Jon's hand was shaking with rage, and he
found himself backing slowly away from the crowd, afraid of what
might happen if he didn't. "Thank you for your time," he said,
his voice not betraying his emotion. With a nod, he turned from
the group, stuffed his notepad into his pocket and quickly
walked down the sidewalk, trying to put as much distance as he
could between himself and the assembled protestors and media.
After a few blocks, he ducked into an alley, walked to the end,
and leaned against the wall. With a sigh, he brought his head to
a rest against the brick façade, willing himself to calm down.
Generally, Jon was cool and collected, even during the toughest
times. He wasn't one to fall victim to emotion, and even though
certain relatives of his were notorious for their short fuses,
he almost never got truly angry. But today had been the
exception.

It wasn't just that CJ had been on that plane. It wasn't just
that 250 people had died. It was the smugness with which the
spokesman dismissed what had happened. Yes, sometimes bad things
happened to good people, it was a fact of life. But to infer
that somehow those deaths were justice for some wrong committed
by the company? There had to be more to the story, more going on
with that group than anyone knew. But he had nothing to back
that up but a hunch, and it took more than that for the Daily
Planet to take a deeper look. What this case needed was the
attention of someone with plenty of time on his hands and a
little incentive to reach the truth.

With a small smile, Jon pushed away from the wall. Later
tonight, he supposed he would take a little trip and pursue the
matter further. Until then, though, he had a couple of other
stories to investigate and some notes to write up. He also had
enough time to take a leisurely flight to calm his nerves.
Without further hesitation, he took a good look around the alley
to verify that nobody was nearby, then lazily spun into the suit
and took off into the sky.

***

It was 8 AM when CJ was awakened from a dreamless sleep by a
knock on his door. He didn't remember falling asleep, although
he did recall thinking at around 4 AM that he probably would be
awake all night. The bed he slept in was the same one that he
had for several summers before, the room was cozy and familiar.
The circumstances, however, were very different, and as soon as
his father had flown off toward Metropolis, he had felt very
much alone. It wasn't too surprising, he supposed. His wife and
family were now a few hundred miles away, and he was sharing a
large, dusty mansion with a man who was not known for being
supportive and comforting. Bruce had left him to his own devices
not long after Clark had left, and CJ found himself lost in a
bad mood that was not helped by the dark, empty mansion or the
storm clouds that gathered outside.

Now, with the light streaming in through the windows and a few
hours of sleep behind him, things didn't seem quite so dreary.
Waking up alone in Gotham City couldn't help but remind him of
his circumstances, though, no matter how cheery the day was.

"Clark?" Bruce said, knocking again on the door.

"Mmpf," CJ replied, folding his arms over his eyes.

"We have some things to discuss. Do you think you could meet me
in my study at 8:30? I'll have some coffee and rolls in there,
if you're hungry."

"'Kay," CJ said. He listened as footsteps retreated down the
hallway, then forced himself to sit up and get going. Certainly
the invitation meant that Bruce was ready to have the big talk,
to unveil his plans for CJ's future and begin to make everything
normal again. The rolls and coffee sounded promising, too.

With a sense of purpose, CJ set out to get ready for the day.
Normally, a day at home would mean a comfortable wardrobe, a
well-worn, familiar t-shirt and a pair of jeans that had seen
better days, but those weren't available to him. Instead, he
threw on the stiff, new clothes that had been waiting for him in
his room when he arrived, and freshened up using the new
toiletries that Bruce had provided. He had come with nothing but
the clothes on his back, the last things he had that linked him
to his previous life. Even his wallet, which had been in his bag
during the flight, remained in the briny deep along with the
rest of the airplane wreckage. He had no money, no pictures, no
possessions...no name. But, if Bruce was the miracle worker that
CJ hoped he was, he might at least have a future.

CJ arrived at Bruce's study at 8:30 on the dot. Opening the
door, he found the drapes open, the sun streaming in through the
windows bathing the whole room in a bright light. In the summers
that CJ had been in Gotham, he had spent a decent amount of time
in this room, talking to Bruce, gathering information, or just
sitting down with a good book to read. Even on the brightest
days, though, the curtains had always been drawn, the only
illumination coming from dull, incandescent lights scattered
throughout the room. It was strange how much a little sunlight
could change what had been a somber room into someplace more
welcoming, more inviting.

"Have a seat, please," Bruce said. Looking around, CJ found his
employer standing by the window, silhouetted against the
sunlight, his gaze focused outside. CJ sauntered toward the
center of the room, grabbing a roll off a tray on the desk
before sitting down in one of the overstuffed leather chairs.

"Since the founding of this country, the Wayne family has been
in Gotham," Bruce said after a long moment, his attention still
locked on the world outside. His posture was rigid, his hands
locked behind his back. "At first, my ancestors profited from
trade with Europe. Then, with the dawn of the industrial
revolution, they found an opportunity to break away from the
reliance on the old world, and usher in a new era of prosperity
for this city and this country while making a few dollars in the
process. The Wayne fortune was made a long time ago, the family
name synonymous with wealth long before the Rockefellers or
Carnegies rose to prominence. For the better part of two
centuries, the Wayne fortune has passed from one generation to
the next, keeping the foundation of the family and the company
strong."

Bruce turned away from the window, looked downward, then raised
his head until his dark eyes met CJ's. "With my death, so ends
the Wayne family line. One of the cornerstones of Gotham City
will cease to be, and one of the companies that helped make this
country great will be gobbled up by Wall Street." Slowly, Bruce
began to walk toward the desk, his eyes never leaving CJ's.

"My whole life has been about the past. My parents were killed
when I was very young, and the memory of that crime has driven
me to do things that I wouldn't have otherwise. I strove to make
sure that the bad things that happened to me wouldn't happen to
anyone else, to make sure that the innocent could live a life in
peace without the threat of crime or violence. In a way, this
family had always looked out for the people of this city, and
that's what I continued to do.

"The problem is that I spent so much time feeding off the past
that I never bothered to look toward the future." Bruce finally
reached the desk. With a quick, graceful movement, he sat down
and regarded CJ for a moment, a haunted smile on his face. "I
did have a well-deserved reputation for being a playboy. I'm as
guilty as any man of falling prey to his libido. I never wanted
a family; I guess I figured that I couldn't give any time to a
family if I did have one. If it was companionship I wanted, I
could always get it, but I was married to my work, and my
vendetta. And, in a way, I was happy."

Bruce looked away, bringing his hands up and running his fingers
through his hair in an unusual nervous gesture. "Looking back, I
don't think that I would've done anything different with my life
if given the chance. I don't think I have anything to regret.
But I do wish that there was someone to call family, someone to
keep the name and the company alive after I'm gone. I sometimes
wish I hadn't been as careful as I had been when I was sowing my
wild oats."

CJ's hands started to grow clammy as he realized where this
conversation was headed. "If you weren't careful, then maybe,
out of the blue, some young man or woman could come knocking at
your door...."

Bruce nodded, a look of determination in his eyes. "There could
be another little Wayne out there. Nobody would be surprised.
Most of my conquests didn't last more than a night or two, with
women I never saw again."

"What if there really is someone? A son or a daughter?"

Bruce didn't flinch. That familiar look was in his eyes, the one
that was sly and knowing, the one that betrayed a personality
much deeper than that of just a billionaire playboy. CJ liked to
think of it as his Batman look. "There isn't. I've checked up on
every last one of them, just to be sure. But I think now that
maybe a long lost son will show up after all."

"Me," CJ rasped, and Bruce nodded.

The room felt very warm at that moment, and CJ found it a little
hard to breathe. The bright, cavernous study seemed too close,
and he unconsciously reached for his shirt collar, pulling it
away from his neck. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever
think that Bruce would basically offer to adopt him. Now that he
thought about it, though, he didn't know what he had expected
from this meeting. Maybe he had thought that Bruce would take
him in as a "friend of a friend," or maybe he had thought that
Bruce would use his contacts and gadgets to create a new
anonymous identity. But to be told that Bruce wanted him to be
his long lost son, the heir to the Wayne empire....

"I don't know what to say," CJ said, trying to flash Bruce a
smile.

"It's a lot to take in, I know," Bruce said. He didn't seem
upset at CJ's reaction, but he didn't seem as sly or confident
as he had earlier, either. "If you need some time to think it
over...."

CJ nodded vigorously and stood from the chair. Bruce's eyes
widened fractionally. "I'm flattered, I really am, please don't
get me wrong," CJ said as he backed slowly toward the door. "And
I'm grateful. But between the crash and the baby and this,
it's...I...."

"Baby?" Bruce asked, halting CJ in his tracks. The overwhelming
anxiety that had washed over him vanished at that moment, and he
felt calm. It was amazing how one little fact could put
everything in perspective. No matter what happened with Bruce,
no matter if he was going to be some anonymous schmuck in the
big city or the newfound son of a famous industrialist, the fact
remained that he was also soon going to be a daddy. That was the
most important thing, after all.

He smiled as he gave Bruce a small nod. "My wife. We just found
out yesterday."

Bruce appeared to be genuinely happy for CJ. "Congratulations,"
he said with a rare smile. He remained in his seat looking
thoughtfully at CJ, a momentary silence settling over the room.
CJ found his smile fading as he watched. "It's been a long time
since children have played in the halls of this house. But I can
vouch for the fact that this place can be a lot of fun for a
little one with an appetite for curiosity," Bruce said in a
soft, wistful voice.

A lump formed in CJ's throat, and he had to look away. It was an
invitation, one that just got a little harder to refuse. Wayne
manor sat on acres of land with trees and caves and ponds, and
the house probably had hundreds of rooms with plenty of
interesting things to see. He could visualize his family here,
and he knew that they could be happy under this roof, living as
the next generation of the Wayne family. But he also knew that
they could be happy just about anywhere, mansion or shack, city
or country, so long as there was love. If there was one thing
that would always be present between him, Jenny, and their
child, it was love. "I appreciate that Bruce. But I'm still
going to need a little time to think things over."

Bruce nodded, then held out his arm, gesturing toward the seat
that CJ had just vacated. "Understood. But please, I want to get
all the facts on the table so that you can make an informed
decision."

CJ nodded slowly, returned to the chair, and sat down. Bruce
proceeded to lay out his plan, getting into the fine details of
what he would like to see happen. CJ would be his illegitimate
son with a woman who had gone into seclusion shortly after she
and Bruce had split up. Bruce spoke of the woman fondly, and CJ
got the impression that she was someone that he cared for more
deeply that a man would for just a one night stand. In any case,
she had recently died, and that would be used as the explanation
for how and why CJ had shown up when he did. CJ would be given a
fake birth certificate, driver's license, educational history,
credit history, medical reports...all the little things that any
normal person would be expected to have, all of which Bruce
could plant with little trouble. Bruce would throw a society
gala in about a month to officially introduce CJ to the world,
and in the meantime would drop hints around Wayne Enterprises
and elsewhere that he had recently been introduced to his son.
After his coming out party, Bruce would bring CJ to Wayne
Enterprises, and in an example of nepotism at its finest, would
install CJ as a company vice president, a spot specifically
meant to prepare him to eventually take over the company.

It all sounded very convincing, very well thought out. CJ wasn't
too concerned about a career in big business - it was what one
of his degrees was in, after all. But the society parties, the
idea of being a member of American royalty, struck him as being
a little out of his league. He had considerable charms, to be
sure, but he tended to be more in his element with people who
were a little rough around the edges, with the jocks and working
stiffs. If there was one thing that didn't bother him, though,
it was that he most definitely wouldn't have to worry about
accidentally running into one of his old friends in this new
identity.

"So, do you have any questions?" Bruce asked and CJ had to blink
a few times while he processed all the information.

After a moment, CJ sighed and shook his head. "Not right now.
Although I imagine that there will be a few once I've had a
chance to think it all through."

"Understood," Bruce said. With that, he rose from his chair and
took a decisive stride toward the door. "Well, I need to get
into the office. And you need to get started downstairs."

"Right," CJ said, taking his cue and following Bruce toward the
door. Even if his regular identity was still up in the air, CJ's
alter ego was well defined. Officially the reigns were being
turned over very soon, which meant that he had to go through the
cave to make sure that he had everything he needed. It also
meant that there would be a new uniform to get fitted for, new
toys to play with, and a whole big city to become intimately
familiar with. Tonight, he would go out in an unofficial sense,
soaking up the atmosphere of Gotham City and getting a feel for
things. But tonight was a long way off, and that left a lot of
time for some heavy thinking.

"Hey, Bruce?" CJ said as they walked out of the room and into
the hallway. Bruce stopped and turned toward CJ, a neutral
expression on his face. "No matter how this turns out, I want to
thank you...for everything."

Bruce didn't smile, although his eyes were soft. "You're a good
kid, and you've stuck by this stodgy old man for whatever
reason." CJ shrugged and smiled charmingly, although Bruce
didn't smile back. "You won't be thanking me once you meet your
first psycho bad guy, though," Bruce said with his typical dry
humor, and then turned and walked away. CJ just shook his head,
chuckling softly. Bruce might be a very different type of man
than those in the Kent clan, but he had one thing in common with
them, and that was the ability to diffuse a heavy moment with a
non-sequiter. Maybe that's why the two of them had always gotten
along.

Now alone, CJ decided it was time to go for a little walk around
the grounds to soak up the sun before slipping into the lair of
the ultimate night person. He shoved his hands into his pants
pockets and started to whistle, wandering slowly toward the
great outdoors, and the rest of his life.

***

Jon flew a few lazy circles over Gotham City, scanning the
shadows and dark

corners for the city's notorious man in black, the Batman,
wondering for a moment how much luck he would have in locating a
man who supposedly made a living out of not being seen. Then
again, he thought with a smile, the new man behind the cowl had
other talents that might make him easier to find.

"Hey, CJ" Jon said in a conversational voice from high in the
air.

"Down here," came the immediate reply. Following the sound, Jon
found his brother waving at him from atop the second tallest
building in town, the world headquarters of Wayne Enterprises.
Jon held up a hand in greeting and quickly flew over to join
him.

CJ was perched on a narrow shelf of steel at the very top of the
building, leaning against the spire that housed several
television and phone antennas. His outfit wasn't the traditional
Batman costume by any stretch. He wore a long-sleeved, black
spandex t-shirt, with black jeans, and a black baseball cap was
perched backwards on his head. His eyes were not obscured by
any sort of mask. "Suit in for dry cleaning?" Jon asked as he
landed and sat down next to his brother.

CJ looked at him sideways, a sarcastic half smile on his face,
then shrugged. "The suit is a hunk of Kevlar that's about a size
and a half too small. It somehow didn't seem all that necessary,
considering," CJ said, and Jon had to admit that he had a point.
"Besides, I think you, Dad, and the winged wildlife of this town
are the only ones who are going to see me up here, and the
supervillain element seems to have taken the last 20 years
off."

Jon nodded gently. Nefarious bad guy activity hadn't been too
much of a problem since the days of disco. Technology had made
it easier for the cops to stop criminals before they ever gained
legendary status, and tougher incarceration laws made sure that
once the villain was locked up, they generally stayed that way.
Jon sometimes wondered if laziness didn't play into the lack of
supervillains, too - a society used to instant gratification
tended to spawn the types of criminals who didn't have the
patience to cook up grand plans and elaborate schemes,
especially when the less elegant way produced the same results.
In all it made the work of a superhero a little less
interesting, but he certainly wasn't one to complain.

"I don't know about me and Dad, but the winged wildlife must be
good company," Jon quipped, and CJ's smile widened.

"They're great listeners, sure, but so is your average brick
wall. At least you and Dad occasionally act like you're actually
hearing what I'm saying."

"Well, you know, it's the least we can do," Jon said as he
followed CJ's lead, leaned back against the giant spire, and
relaxed. A comfortable silence settled between the two of them,
and Jon let his gaze wander over the city that stretched out in
front of him, taking in the sights. He was always struck by how
different Gotham was from Metropolis. Even at night, Gotham just
seemed darker, more menacing somehow. Crime statistics tended to
support that feeling, and as Jon watched, he witnessed half a
dozen different acts of violence happening in homes and alleys
throughout the city. A mugging, a theft, fights and drug use,
things that he had half a mind to go take care of, but this
wasn't his city. And that wasn't why he was there.

Jon sighed. "This definitely isn't Metropolis," he said.

"You can say that again," CJ answered, a certain flatness in his
voice. "I never really paid attention to the feel of this town
before. I was supposed to be the lackey, not the hero. But now
that this is going to be MY city.... It kind of seems
overwhelming, the sheer amount of bad stuff that goes on out
there."

"Gives you something to strive to achieve, I guess," Jon said,
and CJ nodded gently. "So, uh, did you get things straightened
out today?"

CJ inhaled deeply and frowned, causing Jon to almost reflexively
furrow his brow. The formulation of a new identity was something
that he knew CJ had looked forward to, and Jon was under the
impression that just about anything would be okay so long as it
meant some semblance of normalcy and a quick reunion with his
wife.

"It's interesting you should ask that," CJ said, leaning his
head back and resting it on the spire with a dull clang. "I was
beginning to think that I might just go crazy if I couldn't
discuss that particular issue with someone."

"So what's the problem?"

CJ raised his eyebrows, his gaze directed at the dark sky in
front of him. "What would you say if I told you that Bruce Wayne
offered to adopt me and make me his heir?"

"What?" Jon asked, not sure that he heard correctly.

"Me. A billionaire. The love child of Bruce Wayne."

It took a few seconds for Jon to realize that he was holding his
breath. He blinked, looked at CJ, and began to laugh nervously.
"I'd tell you to give me whatever rabbit's foot you've been
rubbing," he said. The statement only caused CJ's frown to
deepen, and Jon looked away. Yeah, maybe lucky was the last word
to associate with CJ, especially given everything that had
happened in the last couple of days. Being forced to abandon
your life as you knew it and everyone who cared about you wasn't
the type of thing that happened to someone who was lucky. But at
the same time, CJ was about to start a family, and he was being
offered a chance to possibly become an American icon, inheriting
a fortune in the process.

"It sounds like a great opportunity, how's that?" Jon said,
rephrasing his answer.

"Yeah," CJ said with a sigh. "It does. I can't argue with that.
But I don't want to be famous, and I have no idea how to be a
blue blood."

"Fame isn't so bad," Jon said, drawing a half smile from CJ. It
wasn't that far from the truth. At the beginning of his career,
Jon had absolutely hated the attention that his alter ego
received. Everywhere he turned, his face stared back at him from
magazines or t-shirts or posters, and he always wondered why
everyone was so obsessed with him. After a while, it didn't
bother him as much. He found himself getting used to it, and the
attention

began to feel more flattering than anything else. It was all
just a matter of perspective, he supposed, and even something as
heavy as fame could be fun if you didn't take it too seriously.
"At the end of the day, your wife will still think of you as the
guy who takes out the trash, famous or not."

"Do billionaires take out their own trash?" CJ asked and Jon had
to fight the urge to sock him in the shoulder.

"And apparently your wiseacre little brother will still have no
respect for you."

CJ gave his characteristic grin. He definitely knew what buttons
to push, Jon thought, and although he'd usually throw a few
zingers right back at CJ, he suspected that their banter was a
welcome distraction from the heaviness of the situation. "There
could be benefits to being a blue blood, I'd imagine. Not that I
have any firsthand experience with that one...."

CJ shrugged. "Well the money would be a benefit, sure, but it
can't all be wine and roses. For example, instead of hot dogs
and hamburgers, you end up eating things that normal people know
enough to stay away from. If it comes out of a fish's butt, it's
definitely not going into my mouth."

Jon stifled a laugh, instead putting an entirely serious
expression on his face. "I'm sure your vast riches could afford
only the finest hot dogs and junk food."

"I bet they'll expect me to wear Italian suits and know boring
facts about stuff like art and wine."

"Considering how quickly you lap up boring sports statistics,
I'm sure you'll learn everything you need to know about art and
wine in no time."

"Instead of football I'm going to have to learn to play golf,"
CJ continued, undaunted.

"The horrors," Jon said flatly. CJ gave him a somewhat annoyed
glance, and Jon smiled lightly. "Look, I don't see what the big
deal is. Aside from eating stuff from a fish's butt, I think
most people would be pleased as punch if those were the biggest
problems ahead of them. It seems like you're going to have the
perfect life handed to you on a silver platter. You have a great
friend in Bruce Wayne."

"A great friend, yes." CJ look down at his hands, swung his feet
back and forth a couple times, and then spoke again. "Bruce is
going to end up as my father, though, in the eyes of everyone."

"Oh," Jon said, suddenly seeing where this was going.

"And I already have a father...."

Jon nodded. He supposed he hadn't considered that aspect of the
situation. If CJ were to become the very public newfound son of
Bruce Wayne, he'd probably end up having to go to a lot of
events with Wayne, act like a son would toward a father,
probably even call him "Dad." CJ and Bruce would both know that
it was an act, but it would be real enough as far as the rest of
the world was concerned.

"So Bruce can be a bonus dad. Like a generous stepdad or
something," Jon said, raising his eyebrows and trying to put on
his most reassuring expression. He wanted to try and sidestep
the assumptions and the agonizing, the inevitable questions
about whether or not Clark's feelings would be hurt if CJ
decided to take Bruce up on his offer. Jon had done his fair
share of worrying in the past, and if there was one thing that
he had learned, it was that making assumptions about the
feelings of others was a recipe for trouble. Maybe it was time
to impart that wisdom on CJ.

"Our dad already is like a bonus dad. Two people for the price
of one." CJ's voice had taken on a pouty tone. Jon leaned over
and turned his head sideways, trying to capture CJ's eyes with
his own. Gentle coaxing wasn't going to get the job done
tonight. What CJ needed was a few sincere words to jar him out
of his funk.

"Do you think you'll love Dad any less if you become Bruce's
son?" Jon asked. CJ turned to him, a look of shock on his face.

"Of course not." CJ said quickly. His expression was defiant,
but it quickly softened as he let the question absorb, and after
a minute he looked away. "I can see how it might look that way,
though. It kind of feels like I'd be betraying him."

"The plane crash wasn't your fault. You had no choice but to
leave that life behind."

CJ turned back toward Jon, a pained look on his face. Obviously
this was a conversation that he'd had with himself already. "But
I do have a choice in who I become. All I wanted was to be some
anonymous guy with a sketchy past, but now I'm supposed to be
someone else's son...a valued and well-loved son at that. If I
was Dad, I would probably be a little hurt when I saw that."

Jon smiled lightly. "What, hurt because you made something of
your second life? Hurt because you took someone else's last
name, even though you couldn't possibly use your own? Hurt
because you have other people who care about you? I'd be proud
if I was him. And some people think I am." That caused the
corner of CJ's mouth to tug up. "But if Dad knows how you feel,
and you know how he feels, where's the problem?"

CJ got a thoughtful, far away look in his eyes, and Jon smiled a
little more deeply and leaned back. He was definitely getting
better at this whole advice-giving thing. After a moment, CJ
shook his head, turned his attention back to Jon, and gave him a
sincere smile. "You know what? I worry too much."

Jon reached over and pulled CJ's hat forward. "If you didn't
worry a little, I'd begin to wonder whether you were really a
member of the Kent clan."

"Oh, I can prove to you that I am," CJ answered, his eyes
sparking. Slowly one of his fists began to ball up.

Jon held up his hands and laughed. "No, I believe you." His
shoulder throbbed with phantom pain, the lingering memories of
similar past demonstrations. Why CJ always felt the need to slug
him for effect rather than just zap something was beyond Jon.
"So, uh, does that mean I'm talking to the new junior Mr.
Wayne?"

CJ smiled, turned back toward the city, and sighed. "Yeah, I
think you are."

With that, the conversation turned to other things. Jon waited a
while to tell CJ about what he saw at the Metro Air offices
earlier in the day, in part because he was enjoying their chat
and didn't want to ruin it with possibly upsetting news. As time
wore on, though, and CJ started asking him about work, Jon
finally broke the news.

"What would you say if I told you that I have a feeling that
your plane crash might not have been an accident?" Jon cringed
inwardly, waiting for the reaction. Interestingly, though, the
shock and outrage he had feared didn't come. Instead, CJ smiled
lightly, a knowing look in his eyes.

"I'd say that I felt the same thing," CJ said.

It was Jon's turn to react with shock. "You did? Why?"

"Because I was there," CJ said. His eyes locked into Jon's,
transmitting raw emotion and the shadow of not-so-distant
memories. Jon found himself unable to look away. "I could tell
you things about that crash that the NTSB could only guess at."
CJ's voice had grown raspy, his pupils almost too wide. "The
loud explosions, the way that the damage just happened to
coincide with an area of the plane containing all the hydraulic
lines, the quickness with which it plunged into the sea and the
totality of the destruction. Something seemed too coincidental
about it, something just didn't seem right."

After a moment, the shadow seemed to lift from CJ's eyes, and he
shrugged, his little half smile coming back. "Not that I'm an
expert in plane crashes or anything. So how about you? What
makes you suspicious?"

Jon found himself unable to speak for a moment, and it wasn't
just the lingering horror at what CJ must have experienced that
caused his silence. He knew CJ had a bit of a dark side; he'd
seen it before, but he was always surprised when it showed up.
Outwardly, CJ was Mr. Funny, the class clown, the guy who could
solve any problem with a smile and a joke. But somewhere deep
inside, these other emotions and experiences lurked, reflections
of a much deeper man than he showed outwardly. It almost made
the Batman persona a natural fit. Almost, but not quite. CJ
worried, but he didn't obsess. He felt things deeply, but he
usually based his decisions on fact instead of emotion. His dark
side didn't control him, but it did seem to anchor him, giving
him a place to lock away all the bad memories so that he could
focus on the better things in life. Still, his brief forays into
his darker side tended to leave Jon with the mental equivalent
of whiplash.

Jon blinked a couple of times, cleared his head, and related his
story. CJ nodded as Jon spoke, listening intently. Somewhere in
the middle of the story, CJ produced a notepad and began jotting
some things down. Anger flashed in CJ's eyes as Jon quoted the
group spokesman, anger that mirrored the edge in Jon's voice. As
he wrapped up, they looked at each other in silence, no doubt
wondering the same thing.

CJ was the first to speak. "How could people like that bring
down a plane?"

"That's the big question," Jon said. "Especially given airport
security these days."

"Airport security is run by the federal government and is far
from infallible," CJ said. "But trying to slip something by
security would be risky."

"What if they WERE security?" Jon asked. They both raised their
eyebrows.

"Those guys in the back, the ones who open up suitcases... who's
to stop them from slipping something inside one of the bags
before putting it on the plane?" CJ's eyes sparkled, his grin
was sly.

"What about a maintenance worker? Someone who has access to the
plane could do some damage."

CJ nodded appreciatively. They tossed around a few other
scenarios, none completely outside of the realm of possibility.
It got quiet after that, both of them processing the
conversation, before Jon decided that it was probably time to
go. CJ agreed that it was getting late, and they said their
goodbyes.

As Jon flew off, he looked over his shoulder and waved, smiling
as CJ held up a hand in reply. Jon wondered if this would be how
they met from now on, two superheroes on a rooftop in the dark
of night talking shop. It wasn't so terrible, he supposed, but
he would miss the hanging out at neighborhood haunts, or in the
back yard at home. If things went as they probably were going
to, there wasn't much of a chance for the two of them to ever
publicly get together. CJ would be the next of the Wayne line,
a member of the upper crust of society, the type of person that
the average citizen saw only in magazines and on television. Jon
was just a working class reporter in Metropolis, an average guy
who had no business hanging out with billionaires.

As he turned his attention to the sky ahead, Jon pushed the
thought out of his head. The future wasn't set, and nobody could
know for sure how things would turn out. Fate had a funny way of
coming in and turning things on their ear, too. And boy, there
had been plenty of that lately. Who was to say what would come
next, and who was to say that ordinary people like his friends
and family couldn't get to know someone rich and famous? Hope
was a powerful thing, and as long as there was hope, anything
was possible.

***

The late morning sky was a cloudless blue and the air was just
beginning to get hot and sticky as Jenny and her family crossed
the large green space on the Metropolis University campus
separating the main parking area and the student union. They
were on their way to CJ's memorial reception, each of them with
a box or bag of items in hand. The Union had been chosen as the
location for the reception, partly because many of his close
friends were still at the University, but also because it was a
place where he had hung out frequently, where he had been well
known and well liked, where his spirit lived on. The family also
recognized that the Union was a rather informal gathering place,
more suited to CJ than any stuffy funeral home or church would
ever be. If they were supposed to be celebrating CJ's life, what
better place to do it than a building on the campus that he had
given so much of himself to?

Jenny wrapped her arms around herself, pulling CJ's varsity
letter jacket tighter around her body. It was several sizes too
big and inappropriately heavy for the time of year, but she
found it comforting. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes,
she could almost believe that he was walking next to her, the
light musk of his aftershave and the tinge of leather bringing
back memories of chilly days, his jacket keeping the cold away,
his laughter keeping her warm. She smiled, opened her eyes, and
sighed, knowing that memories would be all she had of this place
after today. It was hard to feel too bad about it, though,
especially since she still had her husband to go back to, and he
was the most important part of those memories.

Her smile widened as a rumble of thunder reverberated in the sky
above. She had to stop herself from waving as a streak of color
cut across the horizon not all that far away from campus. Behind
her, she could hear her family members gasp.

"What was that?" her fifteen year old brother Jim asked, his
eyes wide. Jenny turned and pointed to the source of the sound.

"Superman," she said nonchalantly. Her parents and brother
looked in the direction she indicated, and she could see their
jaws drop fractionally as they saw him. She had to suppress a
giggle, reminding herself how she felt the first time she had
seen the same thing. It was hard not to be awe-struck when you
saw Superman in person after only ever seeing him on television.
Little did they know, they'd already spent plenty of time with
the Man of Steel since arriving in Metropolis the day before.

"Does that happen a lot in this city?" her dad asked, and Jenny
shrugged, trying to keep her expression as neutral as possible.

This was the first time that her family had visited her here.
Her wedding had taken place in Missouri, and her access to free
flights had allowed her and CJ to visit her hometown quite
frequently. There had never been a need for her family to come
to Metropolis before. "Well, you know, from time to time. It's
one of those things you get used to when you live in
Metropolis."

Everyone nodded slowly, their eyes still skyward even long after
Superman had disappeared to points unknown. Give it a few
seconds, Jenny thought, and no doubt one of the Kent men would
appear....

"Jenny!" she heard from near the Union. "Sears family!"

Jon Kent, clad in a formal suit, was jogging toward them, his
hand raised in greeting. Jenny waved, then gestured for her
family to follow as she started toward the building again. Jon
only took a few seconds to meet up with them. "Do you need some
help?" he asked, pointing to the bulky boxes that Jenny's dad
and brother were carrying. At their grateful nods, he took the
boxes and eased into step beside them.

Jenny had a lot she wanted to chat with Jon about, notably the
trip that he was supposedly going to take to Gotham the night
before. But with her family around, it was a conversation that
would have to be put on hold for a while. "So, Jon, we're not
late, are we?" Jenny asked, straining to locate her watch under
the heavy leather sleeves of the coat.

"No, no, I just got here myself," he said. "Got held up at
work."

"Or something like that," Jenny muttered, and he gave her an
amused glance. She just smiled.

"Mom, Laura, and the wife are already getting things set up, but
I think Dad was going to be a few minutes yet...." The idle chit
chat continued on for a few minutes, and they quickly reached
the door of the Union. Right before they entered, thunder
rumbled across the sky again, and Jim looked up, searching for
the source of the sound and quickly finding it.

"Man, that's so cool," he said. Jenny held open the door and
tugged gently at his shirt, urging him in.

"Come on, Jim. If you're nice, I'll tell you about the time I
met Superman."

"Mom's shown me the videotape, like, a thousand times," Jim
answered, referring to her very public engagement at halftime of
the Metropolis University football game honoring Superman and
son. Of course, it made ESPN, was recorded by Jenny's mother,
and shown to probably every resident of St. Joseph. At the
mention of the tape, Jenny heard her mom sniffle, and had to
stifle a groan as she knew that another round of tears were on
the way.

Jim was doing a great impression of a brick wall, and Jenny
tugged harder on his jacket to try and move him along. "Well,
okay, Jon here has interviewed Superman. How's that?"

"Both of them," Jon chimed in. "One-on-one." Jenny looked over
toward him and smiled gratefully as Jim finally ripped his eyes
from the sky and started inside, quickly making his way toward
Jon's side. Jon smiled back at her, then proceeded to tell Jim
the tale of the big chemistry building explosion on campus. The
two of them started walking slowly toward the stairwell, Jon
gesturing as best he could with his arms full of boxes, Jim
listening in rapt attention.

Jenny started to follow, but noticed that her parents had come
to a stop. Looking behind her, she saw her dad with his arms
wrapped around her mom, who was crying heavily now. With a sigh,
Jenny reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue, thrusting
it in their general direction. The previous twenty-four hours
had been similar to this. At the mere mention of CJ's name or
the sight of his photograph, her mom had become a blubbering
mess, going through at least one box of Kleenex so far with no
end in sight. She had managed to contain herself when their
family had gone to dinner with the Kents, but as soon as they
returned to Jenny's apartment and started gathering things for
the service, it had started up again.

"He was such a special boy," her mother said between sniffles,
grabbing for the tissue. "He loved you so much."

"And I loved him," Jenny said gently as she took a step toward
her mother and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. It had
been hard to play the part of the bereaved wife even before her
mother had come into town, but now, with the constant outpouring
of grief, she was sure that she appeared almost cold by
comparison. Once or twice the night before, she had mustered a
few tears, brought on by the old happy memories and the
knowledge that things would never be the same again. But it was
becoming harder to pretend to be sad, to pretend to be anything
but impatient. She wished that she could find some way to tell
them the truth, that she could end the needless suffering, but
now was not the time.

At that moment, the doors to the Union opened next to them, and
Clark walked in, the ever-present smile on his face fading as he
saw the scene in front of him. Giving Jenny a worried glance,
Clark addressed her parents, then guided them toward the
stairwell and their meeting room. Jenny followed behind, handing
tissues to her mother who tried to wipe away the tears and make
herself more presentable. "I'm sorry for making such a scene,
it's just...we all miss your boy so much," her mother said.
"Even Jimmy does. Your Clark always took the time to hang out
with him when nobody else would."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate knowing that you all cared for him so
much," Clark said gently. "And I'm sure being around your son
gave him a good excuse to keep in contact with his rambunctious
inner teenager."

Jenny bobbed her head and smiled weakly, knowing that the
statement was true. If CJ was nothing else, he was in good
contact with his inner child. His sense of fun was part of the
reason she loved him so much. But, she thought with a frown, an
experience like the one he had, the airplane crash, being
surrounded by people in need and not being able to help them,
could certainly make the innocence go away. He hadn't seemed
especially brooding when she last saw him, but now, in a new
town with a new life, she wondered how he was handling it. When
she returned to him, would he be the same CJ? Would he be as
quick with a joke? Would he still view life with the sunny
optimism that he always had before?

Jenny shook her head and made herself stop, knowing that
thoughts like those were fruitless. It was best to look forward
to seeing him again, but first she would have to get through
this day. As she looked around, she noticed

that they had finally arrived at the second floor room. Various
family members were in the corner furthest from the door, hard
at work moving tables and chairs and getting things set up. Jon
had long since placed the boxes of photos and trinkets on the
floor, and Laura and Diane had started rooting through them,
pausing with each item to make comments before placing it on one
of the tables. Jenny's parents had found a couple of chairs to
sit in, and her mother was still trying to compose herself, with
Clark offering words of encouragement. Away from the rest of the
activity, Lois was moving around flower arrangements, at times
seemingly lost behind the large spreads of foliage. As Jenny
watched, Lois stopped, her eyes finding a gap in the flower
sprigs and locking onto Jenny's. Quickly, the arrangement was
placed on the nearest hard surface, and Lois walked toward
Jenny, taking a detour toward Clark and the Sears family, saying
a few words to them, and then continuing on.

As Lois reached Jenny, she gave her best smile, held out her
arms and shooed Jenny out of the room. "What...?" Jenny asked,
suddenly confused. Lois continued to herd her toward the stairs
and back down to the ground level.

"This is a rescue, dear," Lois said. "You looked like you could
use one."

Jenny found herself smiling and falling into step next to Lois.
"Yeah I suppose I could." As they reached the ground floor, they
angled toward the back of the building, where a few small
eateries and sandwich shops were located.

"I know all about difficult mothers, believe me. Mine wrote the
book." They approached one of the vendors and picked up some
coffee, then sat down at a table in the far corner of the
seating area. Because it was the summer and only a few classes
were in session, they more or less had the area to themselves.

"It's not that she's difficult, per se. I mean, I can understand
her grief. I'd probably be even worse if he were really gone,"
Jenny said. She tugged at the heavy arms of the coat, pushing
them up as far as she could so that she could properly grip the
coffee. "I just wish she didn't have to go through that."

Lois smiled and took a sip of her coffee, looking thoughtfully
at Jenny for a moment before speaking. "You could tell them the
truth. You don't need to wait for our permission. I know Clark
hasn't said anything because he thinks it's your decision, and
it is."

"I know," Jenny said quietly, looking down at the table. "And I
also know that I'm going to have to tell them eventually. When I
get engaged to Clark's new persona, the cat will be out of the
bag. But I don't know how to tell them, and I have the feeling
that there will be hard feelings when I do."

Lois reached out and squeezed Jenny's arm, drawing Jenny's gaze
upwards. "It's tough, I know." Her smile began to fade, and her
eyes became distant as she continued. "We told my parents once,"
she said, taking another sip of coffee. "Not too long after we
were married, the question came up about whether or not we could
even have kids. Rather than wait for nature to answer the
question, Clark went in for tests, and when we didn't get the
answer we wanted, I asked my father to look over the results. He
was a doctor, and I figured that he'd keep the secret safe,
but...things happened." Lois shook her head. "The secret, it can
make you miserable if you look at it the wrong way. A freak
accident with a memory altering machine made them forget, thank
God, but after that...."

"You never told another soul?" Jenny asked, and Lois nodded.

"My sister's going to be here today and she doesn't know, or at
least I haven't told her." Lois sighed.

It must've been a lonely existence at times, Jenny thought as
she looked at Lois. To hide away a part of your life from the
people you loved, from your friends. But she and Clark had had
each other for all those years, and now they had the whole
extended family to share their deepest secrets with. It was hard
to be too lonely when their family shared so much love, and
Jenny found herself smiling.

"What?" Lois asked, a curious look on her face.

"I'm just glad I'm not having to go through this alone, that's
all," Jenny said, looking down. "You know what this is like. I
mean, Clark said that something like this happened to him. I
can't imagine what that must've been like for you."

Jenny looked up again, and was surprised to see Lois wearing a
pained expression. When Clark had told his story the other
night, she thought that Lois had seemed a little less than
thrilled at reliving the memories, but Jenny just assumed that
it was the isolation that the incident had caused. But it sure
looked like maybe it was something else.

"Well, the big difference between then and now is that you at
least know that CJ isn't dead."

Jenny furrowed her brow. "You mean...?"

"Clark hadn't told me about himself yet. I had no idea. As far
as I was concerned, he really was dead, and that just ate me up
inside. I was a wreck."

"Oh, my God," Jenny said, her voice small. "Did he try to drop
hints or let you in on the secret afterwards? Did you come up
with a solution together?"

Lois shook her head, taking a long sip of coffee. "I don't think
he knew how much it affected me. We weren't dating at the time,
although part of me knew that he wanted to take our relationship
beyond just being partners. And I think the whole episode
shocked him just as much as it did the rest of us, and for a
while he probably didn't know what to do."

"Still, to not let you know...." Jenny started, and Lois shook
her head again.

"I know that he's embarrassed about the way he handled the
situation, and for good reason. But it could've been worse. He
could've given up and moved on, slipping into a new life like CJ
did. But he went out of his way to keep Clark Kent alive, and he
made sure that I was the first person that saw him after his
return from the dead. Through all the grief and the pain, I was
forced to admit that I really did love Clark, and more than just
as a friend and partner. I don't know when or if I would've
realized that if he hadn't been killed."

Lois gave a small smile, her eyes distant. Maybe the moral of
the story was that even the worst events in life could turn out
positive. Even this service today, as negative as it seemed,
could end up working out for the best. If nothing else, it would
remind them all of what great friends CJ had, that they all had,
and how important it was to value those friendships while they
had the chance. "So it all worked out for the best, then," Jenny
said, and Lois nodded gently.

"Once I knew Clark's secret, I didn't have any hard feelings
about what I went through. And when the time comes for you to
tell your parents, they won't hold it against you, either. Love
can get you through a lot, believe me."

"Yeah," Jenny said, returning Lois's smile. "I just hate all the
acting and the lies, that's all."

"That's why you need to take a time out every now and then,"
Lois said, and Jenny couldn't disagree. The constant sadness of
her mother, and the way her family seemed to circle the wagons
around her, not realizing that she really didn't need their
comfort, was beginning to weigh on her. It felt good to step
away from that and just be herself with Lois. And deep down
inside, Jenny found that she was actually a bit excited about
making a life in Gotham, and about falling in love with her
husband all over again.

"Lois, today you are my hero," Jenny said, and they both
giggled. For the next fifteen minutes or so they talked about
whatever came to mind. When asked about the news of the day,
Lois sighed and said that there had been a big rush hour pileup
on the freeway, which was why the men had taken so long to
arrive that morning. Lois also mentioned that Clark had checked
his voicemail at work earlier that morning after being out of
the office since the accident, and had found the message that CJ
had left from the airplane. She said that she hadn't listened to
the message, that the shade of white that Clark had turned upon
hearing it was enough to quash her curiosity. Neither of them
wanted to speculate about what he had heard, but Jenny could
imagine. The type of thing that could cause Clark to go pale
could only be horrific...and CJ had witnessed it all firsthand.

As the conversation moved on to more pleasant things and the
coffee cups emptied, they decided that they should make their
way back to the room where the reception was being held. Guests
were due to arrive shortly, and both had a sneaking suspicion
that their presence would be needed to put the finishing touches
on the set-up. They grabbed a few coffees for the rest of the
family and returned to a room that was still in need of some
attention.

Jenny was glad to see that her mother had stopped crying,
although Mrs. Sears was obviously trying very hard not to look
toward the front of the room, where all the photographs and
trinkets from CJ's life were now on display. Her mood improved a
little as Jenny handed her one of the coffees and moved on to
chat with Laura and Jon, who were still shuffling around display
items. Everything was arranged chronologically, starting with
baby photos and toothless elementary school pictures, through
his science awards and on to his academic and athletic
achievements in high school and college. A spot was left for his
letter jacket, which Jenny shrugged off and put among the
mementos. As she took one last look at the tables full of items
that spelled out the life of her husband, she felt an unexpected
rush of emotion. Her heavy intake of breath drew the attention
of Jon and Laura, who were instantly by her side, offering
silent comfort and strength. She wrapped her arms around them,
and the three stood together for a few long moments just looking
at what was in front of them, each no doubt remembering, each
grateful that it wasn't really the end.

A few minutes later, the guests started arriving.

The reception lasted two hours, the initial trickle of guests
swelling to a large crowd as time wore on. It seemed like the
entire football team, all the coaches, and the majority of the
athletic department stopped by to offer their sentiments and
share their memories. Jenny met many of CJ's professors and
teachers, along with friends and acquaintances. Some of the
attendees had only met him once or twice, but they remembered
him just the same. Old childhood friends, former girlfriends,
Daily Planet employees, and a lot of the extended Lane family
that Jenny had only heard about through legend also came by to
pay their respects. It was an education meeting so many new
people, but it was also somewhat overwhelming.

Jenny had expected there to be plenty of sadness and tears at
the reception, and there was some of that, but more often than
not, her husband's memory brought a lot of smiles to people's
faces. It seemed that everyone remembered him as the guy who was
the life of the party, the person they could always turn to if
they needed to be cheered up. Beyond just being the funny guy,
they also saw him as loyal and dependable, and a great talent
and friend. She was truly heartened to see how well loved CJ
was, and she wondered if he realized what an effect he had had
on the lives of others.

As the crowd began to thin and the end of the reception began to
near, an old, familiar face walked into the room. Jenny was the
first to notice her, and she couldn't help but smile as she
watched for a moment. The new guest stood just inside the door