Revisionist History
by Sue S.  <sister_suze@yahoo.com>
Rated:  PG13
Submitted: June, 2006


A few notes before we start:

I was a history major and I almost always find it irritating when 
someone plays fast and loose with historical events.  That said, 
I beg your indulgence while I freely and willfully alter or 
completely make up people and events to suit the story.  This is 
a work of fiction, not a recitation of history; it just happens 
to bear a striking resemblance to some actual people, places and 
events.  Actually, it contains a reference to a real historical 
figure but I didn't take many liberties with him. 

Revising history is the least of my sins since I'm also using 
fictional characters that don't belong to me.  I've also borrowed 
liberally from 'Foundling'.  Try to take comfort in the fact that 
I'm not making any money from this story. 

This story is for my favorite history major, Sara.  She's also my 
beta and I can't begin to express how grateful I am for her 
input.  Thanks for reassuring me in all my insecurities and for 
pointing out my mistakes.  Most of all, thank you for your sense 
of humour (see, I spelled it right just for you - and the Iron 
Lady <g>).  You rock my world! 

I must also express my appreciation to DJ who beta'd the PG 
version of this story for me.  She suffered through computer 
problems with me and persevered beautifully with some of the 
fastest turnarounds on a beta I've ever seen.  Thanks DJ! 

The PG version of this story wouldn't exist without the kind 
assistance given to me by Vicki.  She helped me rework the story 
so that the important plot points weren't lost.   

Text bracketed inside <   > is a memory.

<><><>

"This had better be worth it, Clark.  Otherwise, believe me, I 
will get even with you." 

From anyone else those words would be an idle threat.  Out of the 
mouth of Lois Lane they are enough to make even Superman tread 
lightly.  Normally I would just let her rant, but I'm feeling 
especially reckless today.  She's been not so subtly complaining 
since we left Metropolis this morning.  Bad weather, flight 
delays and switching to the small single-engine plane that 
brought us to this decrepit little airfield have not improved her 
mood. 

"It was your decision to come, Lois.  Not mine."

"It wasn't my decision, it was Perry's.  And it's your stupid 
story." 

"It's not a stupid story.  Doesn't it make you angry to know that 
artifacts that belong in a museum are being stolen and sold on 
the black market?" 

Lois stands up and walks away, apparently as tired of this 
argument as I am.  Just as I think that maybe I'm going to have a 
small respite she turns around and comes back towards me.  "So 
where is this guy?  Your friend, what's his name?" 

"Joshua Grey.  And I don't know where he is, maybe he got held 
up." 

"Maybe he's not coming."

"Then we'll be sitting here for a long time, won't we?"  I give 
her my sunniest smile. 

She turns around, her heels clacking impatiently against the 
well-worn linoleum floor as she stalks away from me.  She stops 
in front of the vending machine and puts her hands on her hips as 
she assesses the fact that nothing new has appeared inside since 
she last checked maybe, oh, three minutes earlier. 

"... Big fat stupid story about what... pottery shards?  I mean, 
who cares?  Besides Clark?  Who really cares?"  She's muttering 
under her breath, completely unaware that I can hear her just 
fine.  

I sigh and look at my watch.  We've been sitting here for over 
half an hour and there's still no sign of Josh.  When I spoke 
with him last night he had repeated our flight information back 
to me twice, just to make certain there were no mix-ups.  It's 
puzzling that he's not here, but I'm not ready to give up on him 
just yet.  Besides, I get a certain amount of enjoyment from 
watching Lois stew.  Nobody frets better and - especially on her 
worst days - she can make me laugh.  On the inside anyway.  I 
know better than to laugh out loud at her right now. 

She continues to mutter about the dearth of Double Fudge Crunch 
bars in the machine and to cast abuse at me in general.  I tilt 
my head towards the road outside and listen.  There's a distant 
engine noise but it's too far away to tell if their destination 
is the airfield. 

Lois moves further away from me, her steps more slow and 
deliberate as she paces.  I can tell she's thinking and I wonder 
how long it's going to take her to bring up just why Perry 
insisted that she come along on this story.   

I called Perry two nights ago to tell him about Josh and the 
theft of several valuable artifacts from his small 
university-sponsored archaeological dig.  When I told him I was 
going to come out and join the dig, Perry asked me if I'd 
consider bringing Lois along.  I was hoping he'd suggest the idea 
first.  Think of it as plausible deniability. 

It's been nearly a week since Lois received an anonymous series 
of photographs - all of her in unguarded moments like walking to 
work, sitting at her desk, and wandering through her apartment 
wearing only a towel.  There was no note or explanation left with 
the pictures - a silence that I still find unnerving.  

We haven't been able to discover who took them, who sent them, or 
why.  Perry thinks it's Lex Luthor, who reappeared recently in 
her life before skulking back into the shadows.  I think Luthor's 
smarter than that but I'm at a loss to know who's behind it.  
I've flown past her apartment several times a night since then 
but I've never seen anyone or anything suspicious.  Lois has 
shrugged it off with her usual bravado but it doesn't fool either 
Perry or myself.  She agreed to come along on this story easily 
enough and I know she's only being grouchy because it's 
preferable to admitting that she's scared. 

One thing you should know about Lois - what you see on the 
surface is often miles away from what's actually happening inside 
that amazing mind of hers.  I've gleaned this knowledge from 
observation and from being in the right place when the veneer 
cracks and her grip loosens on the facade she tries to keep so 
tightly in place. 

When we first started working together I was well on my way to 
considering her a world-class bitch.  That was until Dr. Baines 
tied us up and tried to kill us.  Lois surprised me by breaking 
down and confessing that she'd broken all the "rules" she'd spat 
out at me the day before.  In a moment of clarity I realized that 
there were two Lois Lane's.  She may be tough and cynical on the 
outside but it's only to hide her soft candy center.   I love 
both sides of her, just not equally.  I enjoy the verbal sparring 
with the bitchy one.  She keeps me on my toes and, like I said 
earlier, I find her amusing since I know that it's all an act.  
It's the other Lois, the one I only see occasionally, that I love 
to distraction.  That Lois brings out every protective and tender 
feeling I have, stretching those emotions until they're almost 
exquisite pain. 

Sometimes though, on days like today, I'm left to wonder what it 
really is about her that draws me in.  Those glimpses of her soul 
are becoming more frequent but they're still rare.  So what is it 
that intrigues me?  Is it her intelligence?  Her body?  The 
challenge?  Some bizarre and exhilarating combination of all of 
the above? 

"Hello!  Earth to Clark?"

"What?"  I glance up and she's standing next to me, her eyebrows 
knit together in suspicion.  "Sorry.  I was just... thinking." 

"Hmph."  She doesn't look like she actually believes me - she 
thinks I was ignoring her on purpose.  "I asked if you'd switch 
seats with me." 

"Why?"

"The one you're on looks softer."

I look at the chair next to me.  It's exactly the same.  I don't 
know what her game is and I toy with the idea of telling her "no" 
just to push her buttons.  I decide it's not worth the risk, 
especially since I don't know how long we'll be stuck here.  I 
get up and move to the other seat muttering under my breath, 
"There's nothing wrong with that chair." 

"What?" Lois asks suspiciously.

"I said, 'Sure, take this chair'."

She frowns, but she can't prove what I did or didn't say.  She 
murmurs something resembling a thank you as she sits down.  I 
listen for the engine noise.  It seems now to be headed in our 
direction.  Lois begins to fidget, picking at the cracked plastic 
of the arm between our chairs.  I know she's working up to 
something, but I can't decide if she wants another favor or she's 
just readying herself for another round of griping. 

"Clark?"

Oh, here it comes.  "Yes?"

"Why do you think Perry sent us both?  I mean, honestly, isn't 
this something you could do on your own?" 

I know she only wants me to answer the first question but I don't 
feel like getting into it right now so I content myself with 
saying, "I don't know." 

She gives up picking at the arm of the chair to examine her 
cuticles closely.  "Do you want to know what I think?" 

The engine noise is definitely coming closer so I decide to 
gamble on the fact that Josh will be here in a few more minutes.  
"I'm sure you're about to tell me." 

Her head swivels to look at me.  "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Lois, you've never had an *unexpressed* thought."

She narrows her eyes at me.  "I'm having one right now."

Caught off guard, I grin at her.  "Back at you."

"Never mind," she huffs and stands up to stomp back over to the 
vending machine. 

Now that her back is turned I allow myself a quiet chuckle and 
shake my head.  I stand up, too, going over to the large window 
and tipping my glasses down to focus on the approaching truck.  
It's not Josh behind the wheel.  The driver is a female in her 
late teens or early twenties.  She has blond hair, pulled back in 
a ponytail and she's scowling at the windshield in an expression 
reminiscent of Lois' current mood.  It looks like it might be a 
long ride to the dig site. 

"Is that your friend?" Lois joins me in looking out the window at 
the truck as it speeds towards the airfield.   

"I guess so."  I surreptitiously push my glasses back up.  
Whoever she is, she's not close enough yet that I'd be able to 
tell she isn't Josh. 

"Well, finally!"  Lois turns from the window, brushing against my 
elbow as she moves past me.  As always, it sends a little shiver 
of delight through me.  I wonder sometimes if she does it on 
purpose, just to mess with my head.  Then again, that would 
presuppose that she comprehends just how much I desire her.  She 
knows I'm attracted to her.  She just has no idea how deep and 
complete the attraction is.  Given the way she freaked out after 
our first date it's a very good thing she doesn't realize the 
intensity of my feelings for her. 

I move to grab Lois' suitcase before she does.  "Here, let me."

She gives me another suspicious look while she tries to decide if 
I'm being chivalrous or condescending.  Then she shrugs.  "Fine.  
Thanks." 

I follow her the length of the small terminal and she holds the 
door open for me.  We walk out just as the truck slides to a stop 
on the gravel a few feet away from us. 

"Are you Clark and Lois?" the girl asks through the open window 
of the truck. 

"Yes," I answer hesitantly.  Lois gives me a questioning look, 
like I might know why Josh is suddenly a surly young woman. 

"What happened to Josh?" I ask.

"Oh, some paper pusher from the government showed up this morning 
and he and Dr. Hanover had to go back to the school with the guy. 
 There's some big to-do over the stuff that got stolen last 
weekend.  You couldn't have picked a worse week to volunteer on 
this project." 

"We're only here because Josh said you guys were 
short-staffed..." It's partially the truth.  Josh did say they 
were short-staffed. 

"That's an understatement.  Have you been on a dig before?"

"Once," I answer, "but it was years ago."

"What about you?" she jerks her head at Lois.

"I've never had the pleasure, no."

The girl gives Lois a nasty smile.  I get the feeling they've 
both sized each other up and found the other severely wanting.  
"It's an acquired taste.  Lots of tedium, very little reward." 

"My favorite."  Lois flashes her a saccharine smile.

It's going to be a *very* long ride.

<><><>

As we drive to the dig site we learn that our driver's name is 
Emily McKay.  She's twenty years old, an archaeology major and an 
even more aggressive driver than Lois.  Emily had wanted to spend 
her summer excavating the ancient city of Tiwanaku on the border 
between Bolivia and Peru.  That she's stuck in Ohio sifting 
through artifacts that only date back to the mid-1800's is a huge 
disappointment to her. 

"It's all politics, you know," Emily says as she accelerates into 
a left turn that sends Lois sliding against me.  "I'd be in 
Bolivia right now if I was willing to compromise my standards." 

You'd think that the truck's cab, with its wide bench seat, would 
be enough to accommodate two small females and me.  But Emily's 
driving has turned it into a contest to see how well Lois and I 
can brace against smashing into each other.  Lois, for her part, 
seems to look on this as some kind of thrill ride.  She's smiling 
as she gets thrown hard against me.  I wish it were because she 
enjoyed the contact but I suspect that it's actually Emily's 
misery that's making her so happy.  That, and the fact that she 
would rather die before letting anyone think she was scared.  
Ironically, I seem to be the only person in the truck the least 
bit intimidated. 

This latest turn has put us on an unpaved road.  As we bounce 
along the ruts I try not to watch Lois' breasts jostle.  I fix my 
attention on the road ahead of us but I can still see them bounce 
in my peripheral vision.   

"Do you get a lot of volunteers out here?" I ask, trying to 
redirect both Emily's thoughts and my own. 

"We've had a couple of anthropology classes come in for a day.  
And you always get the wannabes."  She glances over at Lois as 
she says this.  I will never understand women and how they can 
make such snap judgments about each other. 

Lois opens her mouth as if she means to reply.

"How many people are on the team right now?" I ask before Lois 
can formulate anything to say. 

"Josh, me, Doc and Marty.  We had a couple of locals helping out 
a few weeks ago but this is really just the Doc's little vanity 
project.  He's obsessed, I tell you." 

"Obsessed with what?" Lois asks.

"Lucas Peregrine.  He died around 1915 and left his property to 
Doc's grandfather.  But grandpa wasn't able to pay taxes on it 
during the Great Depression and lost it in foreclosure.  The 
state bought the land but their plans to turn it into a 
historical site never happened.  You've heard of Morgan's Raid, 
right?" 

"July 1863; it was the northernmost penetration of the 
Confederacy during the Civil War," I answer. 

Lois rolls her eyes and mutters, "Know-it-all."

"Right."  Emily, at least, seems slightly impressed.  "Brigadier 
General John Hunt Morgan, against orders, made a feint into Ohio 
to distract the Union Army into a chase.  He came right through 
this area and it created a huge panic.  Lucas figures heavily 
into the stories about the Raid in this neck of the woods.  
Apparently he practically took on an entire company of soldiers 
single-handedly.  A couple of local families hid their valuables 
on his property for safe-keeping but they couldn't remember later 
where they buried them." 

"Is that what Doc is doing?  Looking for the family silver?" Lois 
asks. 

"I guess," Emily shrugs.  The truck rolls onto a narrow old 
bridge and I brace myself for disaster as I realize that the road 
makes a sharp right angle turn at the other end.  As we negotiate 
the turn I manage to keep from hitting Lois.  She grabs my arm to 
stop from sliding into Emily. 

Clear of the bridge, Emily stomps on the accelerator and we speed 
up a hill.  As we come over the top of the hill we barrel through 
a tree-lined driveway.  I can see a large old house built of 
stone with a wrap-around porch at the end of the driveway. 

"Here it is," Emily says as we come up rather fast on the house.  
She hits the brakes hard.  Lois and I both reach forward to brace 
against the dashboard.   "Welcome to paradise." 

<><><>

A man appears on the porch of the house.  He's in his mid to late 
thirties with unkempt reddish-brown hair and a goatee.   He 
raises his hand in greeting as we approach. 

"How's it going?" he asks.

Emily ignores him, stalking past him and into the house.  The 
screen door slams behind her, bouncing a couple of times in its 
frame before settling back into place. 

"Is she always that cheerful?" Lois mutters.

"No, sometimes she's a little moody."  The man grins at us and I 
get the impression he derives just as much pleasure from 
irritating Emily as I do from provoking Lois.  "I'm Marty, by the 
way.  Marty Evans."  He shakes each of our hands as we tell him 
our names. 

"Is this your house?" Lois asks.

"No, this is Doc's house.  Dr. Hanover, that is.  It's been in 
his family for years.  The dig site is about fifty yards behind 
us.  Come on in, I'll show you your rooms.  Maybe before dinner 
we can take you over to the dig site and give you a quick tour." 

Just inside the front door there is a small foyer.  Directly in 
front of the door is a steep flight of stairs to the next floor.  
There are two archways on either side of the stairs.  Marty 
gestures to the one on the left and says, "That's the kitchen.  
This room over here," he indicates the doorway on the right, "is 
the sitting room, but mostly we just keep field specimens in 
there.  Doc's room is at the back of the house through there."  
He motions at the kitchen and then picks up Lois' suitcase, 
starting up the stairs with it.   

"There are four rooms up here," Marty says after we've come to 
the top of the stairs.  "The bathroom is straight ahead.  We'll 
put you in here, Lois."  He pushes open the first bedroom door on 
the right and then points to the next door down.  "Clark, you can 
take that one." 

I open the door and grimace.  I don't particularly care about the 
room but I'm quite certain that this is just going to be more 
fuel for Lois' slow burn.  The room is small.  There's only 
enough space for a twin-size bed and a desk.  There's a shelf on 
the wall above the desk.  The head of the bed is beneath an open 
window but the room still feels stuffy. 

I set my suitcase down and come back into the hallway.  Marty 
gestures at the two doors across the hall saying, "Emily, Josh."  
Emily's room is opposite mine while Lois is opposite Josh.  Lois 
reappears in the doorway of her room.   

"Does the window open?" she asks Marty.

"Yeah, sure.  Sometimes it just gets stuck.  You know, from the 
humidity.  The wood swells up." 

"I know about humidity," Lois glares.  "But the window will only 
open about an inch before it gets stuck." 

"Can you help her out?" Marty asks me.  "I gotta get started on 
dinner.  Which reminds me, I need to know who to put on the 
schedule for dinner tomorrow." 

"Schedule?" Lois sounds incredulous.  "We only get dinner if 
we're on the schedule?" 

"No, everyone eats.  It's just we take turns cooking, you know?  
One of you will be cooking tomorrow night.  You two can decide 
who's going first." 

"I'm going to have to cook?  Can't we just order a pizza or 
something?" 

"No one delivers this far out in the country.  But you can get a 
frozen pizza in town and cook it.  Can't you?"  The last two 
words are dripping with sarcasm.  Just like that, Lois is now on 
Marty's list of people to annoy.  I suppress a smile.  Give her 
time, Marty.  She grows on you. 

Marty heads back down the stairs and I go in Lois' room to see 
about the window.  Her room is as small and austere as mine.  I 
push the window closed and then lift it open all the way, with 
maybe just a little more coercion than Lois could have used. 

"How's that?"  I turn around and give her a smile.

Lois smiles back.  "Great.  Thanks."

I actually think she means it, there's not a trace of sarcasm in 
either her words or her smile.  There's a small silence and then 
Lois takes a step closer to me, reaching out to brush some 
non-existent lint from my shoulder.   

"You know what I've always liked about you, Clark?"

"What?"  I wish this was about something other than her not 
wanting to cook, but I can tell where her flattery is headed.   

"Your cooking.  You're a very good cook."

"Lois, I've never actually cooked for you."

"Well, here's your chance.  I bet you could really impress me, if 
you tried." 

"I'll take tomorrow night.  But I'm not cooking when it's your 
turn."  She starts to frown so I lean down to tell her in 
conspiratorial tone, "I bet you could really impress me, if you 
tried." 

She steps away from me and takes hold of the door handle as she 
hints that I'm welcome to leave now.  "*If* I wanted to impress 
you, I wouldn't have to cook to do it.  In fact, I find it rather 
sexist that you assume I'd have to cook to impress you."   

I move past her into the hallway.  "I'm not being sexist.  You're 
the one who said I could cook to impress you." 

"Well, guess what?  I'm not the slightest bit interested in 
impressing you.  Especially if it involves cooking."  She shuts 
the door.  I'm turning to go back to my room when she flings the 
door open again.  Her eyes are wide with alarm as she holds out a 
sheet of paper to me.  "This was taped to the back of my door." 

"What is it?"  I take the paper from her and my blood runs cold.  
The image printed on the paper was taken this morning outside of 
Lois' apartment building.  It's a picture of both of us getting 
in the cab to head for the airport. 

"Who could have followed us?" Lois asks.

I shake my head.  I have no idea who took the picture.  I have no 
idea how they knew we were coming here, let alone exactly where 
to find us.  I can feel a tic working in my jaw as I try to come 
to terms with the fact that she's no safer here than she was in 
Metropolis. 

Lois takes the picture back, her hand shaking just a little as 
she looks at it.  "Tell me again, how well do you know Josh?" she 
asks. 

"It's not Josh."

"Really?  How do you know?  I mean, you always think you know 
someone, but how can you be certain?" 

"I'm certain it's not Josh."

She looks at me skeptically.  "Whose idea was it for us to come 
out here?" 

"Mine.  It was my idea.  When Josh called he wasn't asking me to 
come out here.  I volunteered to come.  And you weren't part of 
the equation when I told him I was coming." 

"We're a team, right?  Isn't that what it says on all those 
billboards?  And on that by-line that we share?  If you're on a 
story, so am I."  Her hands have stopped shaking, which is good.  
She's decided to be angry instead of unnerved. 

"Lois, they don't have Daily Planet billboards out here.  You 
were never mentioned until last night when I called Josh to let 
him know what time to come pick us up at the airport." 

"How do you know that Josh didn't tell everyone else here that 
there were going to be two more for dinner tonight?" 

"I'm sure he did, but how would they have had to have time to 
find someone in Metropolis to follow us and send this picture 
back to them?" 

"It's a print-out, Clark.  Somebody e-mailed them the picture.  
Maybe they called a private detective and had them follow us and 
send it?" 

"So it's just a coincidence that somebody else took pictures of 
you last week and left them on your desk?" 

"I don't know.  What if I'm not the only one being stalked?"

"You're saying we each have a stalker?"

"Why not?  At least mine is still in Metropolis."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Hey, I'm not the only one in this picture."  She holds it up, 
pointing at me holding the door of the cab open for her.  

"That's a pretty big leap to take."

"Okay then, how well do you know Marty or Emily?"

"I don't.  I only just met them, the same as you."

"Then let's take this downstairs and see what their reactions 
are."  Lois waves the picture over her shoulder as she heads 
towards the stairs. 

Marty is just closing the oven door as we walk into the kitchen.  
"Did you get that window fixed?" he asks. 

Lois skips the niceties.  "Did you put this on my door?"

"What?"  Marty looks bewildered.  "Did I what?"

"Put this," Lois holds the picture up inches from his face, "on 
the back of my door?" 

Marty takes the picture from her, his expression still confused   
He shakes his head.  "I don't understand..." He looks up at both 
of us and then back to the picture.  "Why would I put this on the 
back of your door?" 

"You tell me."  Lois takes the picture away.  "Is there a 
computer in this house?" 

"Yeah."  Marty gestures in the direction of the sitting room.  
"In there.  But it's not connected to the Internet or anything." 

Lois turns, bumping into me as she hurries towards the next room. 
 I step backwards to let her pass and give Marty an apologetic 
smile.  He shrugs and shakes his head.   

"She's not usually like this," I lie.

"For your sake, I hope not."  He winks and turns back to the 
oven, adjusting the temperature dial.  I leave to follow Lois 
into the next room. 

The sitting room runs the length of the house.  Three long 
folding tables sit end-to-end, covered in small cardboard boxes 
and index cards.  Five-gallon buckets are stacked along the 
interior wall; some of them appear to be filled with dirt.  
There's a desk at the far end of the room with a computer on top 
of it.  Emily sits at the computer, her back to us, entering data 
from a stack of index cards into the machine. 

Lois is ahead of me, although Emily ignores her right up until 
Lois holds the picture over the computer's monitor.  "Did you put 
this on the back of my door?" 

Emily flips to the next card.  "Nope," she says without looking.

"Are you sure?  Why don't you at least take a look before you 
answer?" 

Emily sighs and looks at the paper, then at Lois.  "It's not 
mine."  Her words are slow and distinct. 

They stare at each other for a few seconds and then Emily clears 
her throat.  "Do you mind?  I'd like to finish this before 
dinner.  I had to go pick people up at the airport so that's put 
me behind today." 

Lois grudgingly withdraws the picture.  Emily shakes her head and 
goes back to typing with a sigh.  Lois turns to me and gives me a 
disapproving look.  What does she want me to do?  Beat a 
confession out of someone?   

"Hey, you two," Marty says from behind me.  "Did you still want 
to take a look at the dig site?  We have some time before dinner 
- I can take you down there." 

Lois folds up the picture and puts it in her pocket.  She sends 
one last disgruntled glance in Emily's direction and then we both 
follow Marty through the kitchen and onto the back porch of the 
house.  The back yard is choked with knee-high grass.  There's an 
old shed to one side of the yard.  A two-foot wide dirt path 
starts at the base of the porch stairs and then disappears in the 
trees about fifty feet away. 

Marty starts down the path, gesturing for us to follow him.  We 
reach the trees and cross a small wooden bridge over a rushing 
creek.  The path continues on through the trees. 

"We're on state land now," Marty tells us.  "Everything on this 
side of the creek is land that once belonged to Lucas 
Peregrine." 

We come into a hillside meadow that slopes down to a large lake.  
Halfway down the hill is an old cabin sagging at a 
gravity-defying angle.  A canvas tent stands about twenty feet 
away.  "Doc wants to do some excavation inside the house, but we 
needed more muscle first.  Maybe now that you're here we can 
shore it up and explore the inside," Marty says as we approach 
the house. 

We stop when we reach the house.   The trail continues past the 
house and down the hill to a pier jutting into the lake.  It 
seems to be much sturdier than the house. 

"This is it, the old Peregrine homestead.  And that's Lucas Lake, 
named after old Luke.  Doc's father built the pier for fishing." 

The grass around the house has been trampled into submission.  
Marty leads us around the corner of the house to an open trench, 
about ten feet in length and six feet wide.  The trench slopes 
into the hill; the deepest end is about four feet below the 
surface.  The tent is set up near the shallow end of the trench. 

"That's my tent, and the dig headquarters."

"You sleep out here?" Lois asks.

"We need someone to keep an eye on things, plus I like camping 
better than being shut up in the house." 

"Keep an eye on things?  Where were you when the silver was 
stolen?"   

"Right here," Marty grins at her obvious question.  "But the 
artifacts were in the house." 

"Let me guess, the doors weren't locked."

"No, they weren't.  We're all the way out here in the country, 
why would we lock the door?" 

Lois rolls her eyes and shrugs.  I touch her arm to caution her 
against insulting Marty any further.  "I take it you haven't had 
problems with items going missing before?" I ask. 

"No, although we hadn't really found anything that valuable 
before." 

"Who do you think took it?" I ask.

"Don't know."  Marty turns to look out over the lake.  "There's a 
YMCA camp on the far side of the lake.  It's possible it was kids 
from the camp just playing a prank." 

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Lois asks.

"No," Marty shakes his head.  "I think it was someone from town.  
Everyone there knows that we're excavating the cabin.  There was 
one family who threatened to sue from the very beginning if we 
found the silver.  They claim that it rightfully belongs to them. 
 And they're probably right.  Maybe they just decided to skip all 
the legal red tape and take it home." 

"I assume that this family was checked after the silver 
disappeared?" I put in. 

"Yep.  The sheriff went over with a warrant and looked through 
their house but didn't find a thing.  Truthfully, they seemed 
more upset that the silver was missing than the fact that they 
were suspects.  I can't decide if they're being cagey or 
genuine." 

Marty looks at his watch.  "I ought to get back.  You two can 
look around here for a few minutes if you want.  Just don't touch 
anything and don't go in the trench or inside the cabin."  He 
waves at us and starts back up the trail. 

"What do you think?" I ask as soon as Marty disappears into the 
trees. 

Lois sighs.  "I think it wouldn't take a genius to steal anything 
from these people.  They don't even lock the door at night.  They 
might as well have left a huge sign saying 'free stuff!' on the 
porch." 

"It had to be someone who knew what they had found.  We should 
look at the locals who were helping out and at that family who 
claims ownership." 

"What if it was one of the people here?" Lois speculates.

"That's a possibility, too."

"I bet it was Emily," she says with a faint hint of glee.

"What makes you think that?"

"Gut instinct."

I laugh.  "Are you sure that's what it is?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Kent."  She flounces back up the trail 
towards the house.   

I watch her stalk away and grin.  I am flattered.  She wouldn't 
be this prickly unless she was jealous.  Lois has great 
instincts, except when it comes to the obvious.  Like me, for 
example.  Or Lex Luthor.  Emily, on the other hand, kinda 
deserves what's coming to her.  I shouldn't take sides, I know, 
but she was rude to Lois first. 

As we re-enter the kitchen a tall, dark-skinned man is setting 
the table.  "Josh!" I say, happy to see that the years have 
treated him kindly.  He doesn't look much different than when we 
played college football together. 

We shake hands and slap shoulders.  "Lois, this is Joshua Grey."  
 

Josh looks at Lois and I see his eyebrows twitch in amusement.  
"So this is Lois?" 

I close my eyes, knowing that Josh is about to embarrass me.  
"I..." 

"It's nice to meet you," Lois says as she shakes his hand.

"No, it's nice to meet you.  I've heard a lot about you."

"Really?  Like what?"  Lois looks over at me.  I shake my head 
and look away. 

"I think it was something along the lines of 'beautiful' and 
'headstrong'." 

"Headstrong?"  Leave it to Lois to ignore the compliment in favor 
of the not-so-complimentary.  "You told him I was headstrong?  Is 
that what you think of me?" 

"Actually, I think he said 'independent', I was just reading 
between the lines." Josh isn't correcting so much as stirring the 
pot. 

"Nice try," Lois says.  Then she smiles.  "Did he really say 
beautiful?" 

Josh opens his mouth to answer but I'm saved because an older man 
with white hair and a neatly trimmed beard enters the room along 
with Marty.   

"This is Dr. Hanover.  We all just call him 'Doc'.  I assume 
you've already met Marty." Josh introduces us.  Lois and I both 
shake hands with Doc and he gestures for us to sit at the table.  
As we're sitting down Emily shows up and sits in the chair across 
from me.  Marty pulls dinner from the oven as Josh and Doc take 
their seats at opposite ends of the table. 

Marty sets a casserole dish on the table and sits in the 
remaining chair next to Emily.   

"So did Marty tell you his specialty?" Josh asks as he passes a 
bag of store-bought rolls to Lois.  She looks over at Marty and 
shakes her head. 

"Anthropology is my specialty.  Re-enactment is my hobby," Marty 
corrects. 

"Whatever," Josh says with a grin.  "You know what I'm asking."

"I'm quite certain he hasn't shown them the freak show," Emily 
chimes in.  "Go on, Marty.  Show them how hardcore you really 
are." 

Lois and I both look at Marty.  He shakes his head.  "It's not a 
freak show, I'll have you know.  It's a talent, and I'm in high 
demand for my talent." 

"Okay, I'll bite," Lois says.  "What's your talent?"

"I'm a Civil War re-enactor," Marty explains.  "I started about 
ten years ago and just got addicted.  About five years ago I 
found out that I had a specific talent.  You've seen the Civil 
War pictures taken by Matthew Brady?" 

Lois and I both nod.  

"Well, there are some re-enactors who specialize in recreating 
those pictures.  I'm a bloater." 

"A bloater?" Lois repeats.

"Yeah, I can bloat just like a corpse."

There's a moment of silence and then Lois laughs.  "You can bloat 
like a corpse?" 

"Show them," Emily eggs Marty on.

He pushes back his chair and then lies down on the floor.  As we 
watch in stunned astonishment his cheeks puff out and his belly 
distends.  His eyes turn glassy and appear sightless.  His hands 
and limbs go stiff.  He looks like he's been dead for hours under 
a hot sun.   

Lois glances over at me with a smile.  "There's your story," she 
tells me, "or at least the human interest angle is covered." 

Marty grins and de-bloats.  "Everyone has a talent," he says as 
he sits back down. 

"You're a freak," Emily says with a smile.  There is a trace of 
affection in the way she says it.  I bet her earlier 
inhospitality really was due to the fact that they are 
understaffed and she drew the short straw to come pick us up at 
the airport. 

Doc grimaces and reaches for the salt.  "This is what happens 
when you only get a shoestring operating budget." 

"Yes," Emily agrees with him.  "As you can see, they spared every 
expense in setting us up here." 

Doc sends her a reproving look and shakes his head.  "After today 
we're just lucky we'll be allowed to continue tomorrow." 

"Was it that bad, really?" Marty asks.

Josh nods.  "It was that bad.  The state and the federal 
governments are arguing with each other over who has 
jurisdiction." 

"But isn't that state-owned land?" I ask, confused as to why the 
federal government would even be involved. 

"That's what everyone is arguing about.  Doc's father owed back 
taxes to both the state and the federal government when he lost 
the land.  Since we're a middle party with no declared loyalty 
they've agreed to let us continue digging, so long as we submit 
to random unannounced visits from a regulator." 

"It wasn't until we found something big that anyone showed the 
least bit of interest," Emily puts in bitterly.   

"It's not even what we were looking for," Josh agrees.  

"What are you looking for?" I ask.

There's a small silence as Marty, Josh and Emily look at Doc.  
Finally, Josh speaks.  "We're looking for Lucas Peregrine.  Doc's 
grandfather said he was buried on the property, near the corner 
of the house where our trench is." 

"Why would you want to disturb his grave?"  Lois looks just as 
baffled as I feel.   

"Tell them your theory," Marty winks at Lois.  "Doc has a theory 
about Lucas Peregrine." 

Emily and Josh both look vaguely embarrassed.  Doc pushes the 
food around on his plate and then sets his silverware down.   

"I'm sure they've told you that my grandfather was born and 
raised in this house.  His father, my great-grandfather, built it 
in 1858 with the help of his neighbor, Lucas Peregrine.  My 
grandpa spent most of his boyhood down at Lucas' house.  When I 
was child he told me countless stories about this area and about 
Lucas himself.  Those stories were part of the reason I chose 
archaeology as my life's work.  But there was one story he only 
told me once, just before he died.  At the time I thought maybe 
he was just turning senile.  And then Superman showed up and it 
made me wonder if there really was some truth to the story." 

"Superman?" Lois asks, echoing my thoughts exactly.

"Yes, you see, my grandfather swore that he saw Lucas Peregrine 
fly." 

"Lucas Peregrine could fly?"  There are little spots in my vision 
and I'm glad I'm all ready sitting down.  Is it possible?  Could 
someone else from Krypton have been here before me? 

Lois' eyes gleam at the realization that she might have an 
entirely new angle in her quest for the ultimate Superman story.  
"Fly?" she asks, motioning with her hand like she's about to zoom 
up from the table.  "How high off the ground was he?" 

Doc blinks, looking surprised that we're both so accepting of his 
theory.  "My grandfather said he rose from the lake and flew to 
the front door of the cabin." 

Lois nods.  "That's pretty definitive.  I mean, it couldn't have 
been a trick of the light or anything like that.  What else do 
you know about Lucas?  Did he have a family?  Where did he say he 
came from?" 

"Lucas said he had a family, but that they were far away.  On the 
census his birthplace is listed as Kentucky.  I've looked through 
the censuses for Kentucky in the years before he showed up here 
but I don't see him listed.  Then again, some of those records 
are incomplete or have been lost over the years." 

"Kentucky?  Or 'KY'?" Lois wonders aloud.

"All places of birth are listed as initials," Doc answers.

"So maybe he said 'Kentucky' but actually meant the 'KY' to be an 
abbreviation for Krypton?" Lois speculates. 

Doc smiles and nods his approval.  "The census also lists both 
his parent's places of birth as 'KY'." 

"What about his family?" I ask.

"He said he had a wife and a son.  To my knowledge he never even 
told anyone their names. My grandfather had the impression that 
they were still alive, but living somewhere else." 

"But they never lived here with him?" I press, eager for any 
scrap of information. 

"No, he always lived alone.  I've never found any Peregrines in 
the Kentucky censuses either."  

"When did he show up in this area?" Lois asks.

"Around 1857.  Both he and my great-grandfather settled in this 
area around the same time. Like I said, he helped my 
great-grandfather build this house in 1858." 

"How old was he when he came here?" I ask. 

"I would guess he was in his mid-forties at the time.  I have 
pictures of him; would you like to see them?" 

"Yes!" we say in unison, both of us pushing back from the table, 
all thoughts of dinner forgotten. 

Doc smiles and beckons for us to follow him into the sitting 
room.  He hunts among the boxes stacked next to the desk at the 
far end before producing an old leather-bound album.  He turns 
the first few pages of the album and then lays it open in front 
of us.  "That's him.  That's Lucas Peregrine.  This picture was 
taken around 1865." 

The sepia-toned photograph shows a man with dark wavy hair, a 
little long in the fashion of the times.  His eyes are pale and 
look almost haunted as he gazes at something just to the right of 
the camera.  His mouth is thinned in a frown that makes it look 
as though he had never learned how to smile.  He has a solid 
build, the kind that comes from years of hard work.  A thick dark 
beard covers only his chin.  His sideburns and cheeks are 
clean-shaven.  Lucas Lake is in the background; it doesn't appear 
to have changed much in the intervening years. 

"He doesn't really look like Superman, does he?" Lois comments.

I shake my head, a deep disappointment settling across me.  I 
don't know what I was hoping for, but she's right.  He looks 
nothing like me - or Jor-El.  Still, the thought that this man 
may have beat me to Earth from Krypton by a hundred years is 
something I never expected.  I wish it wasn't growing dark 
outside; I want to search out his history even more than Doc 
does. 

"Didn't he ever smile?" Lois asks.

Doc nods.  "Of course he did.  My grandfather said he had a 
wonderful sense of humor.  People just didn't smile for pictures 
in those days."  He takes the album back and turns a few more 
pages.  "There," he points.  "There he is again." 

This time the picture is of a small group in front of Doc's 
house.  Lucas is standing on the top step, his shoulder leaning 
against the pillar of the porch.  A young boy stands on the 
railing next to him, his arm thrown across Lucas' shoulder.  Both 
Lucas and the boy are out of focus, their faces a little blurred 
but obviously smiling.  Their figures definitely stand out 
against the rest of the people in the picture; everyone else is 
staring sourly at the camera. 

"The boy is my grandfather.  Just as the picture was taken his 
older brother dropped his pants and mooned them.  Only Lucas and 
my grandfather laughed." 

"Do you have any other pictures of him?" I ask.

"A few, but he's much older in them.  They were taken in 1915, a 
couple of months before he died.  I'll see if I can find them 
tonight and show them to you tomorrow." 

"How did he die?" Lois asks.

"Old age, I guess.  He had to be at least in his nineties when he 
went.  My grandfather said he was sharp as a tack right up to the 
end." 

"What is it you hope to find in his grave?" I ask, even though I 
feel more than a little morbidly curious to see his skeleton 
myself. 

"If we can find him, I'd like to send a sample of his bones to a 
lab and see if they're any different.  Maybe, if he is like 
Superman, his bones will be denser or something.  I just want... 
proof, I guess.  Marty says I'm dabbling in revisionist history 
here and that I'm going to be a joke amongst my colleagues." 

"Why would you be a joke?  If you find proof, I mean," Lois says. 
 "History changes all the time." 

"Ah, that's true, my dear.  But changing commonly held ideas 
about the past isn't easy.  It's painstaking, especially if 
you're going to be legitimate about it.  Most people would prefer 
to keep alive the glossed-over fairy tale they learned in school. 
 It gets messy when you look at it from the other side." 

"History is written by the victors," I add.  

"And usually the victors have something to hide.  There are 
people who use this process of rewriting history to suit their 
own agendas.  It's a slippery slope."  Doc spreads his hands in a 
gesture of futility. 

"But this isn't going to alter anybody's world view!" Lois 
exclaims.  

Speak for yourself, Lois, I think.  It would forever alter my 
world view.  Don't get me wrong - I have my parents.  And I have 
Lois, Jimmy, Perry and other friends like Josh.  But there's 
always been an empty space inside me.  A nagging sense that I'm 
it.  There will never be anyone else who can understand on a 
primal level what it's like to be me.  Even if we're separated by 
a century, I feel a tug of camaraderie for this man.  Curiosity, 
sorrow, and compassion have all combined into a sort of longing 
so intense it's rapidly becoming an ache.  Who was he really?  
What was he doing here? 

"I doubt it would change the world," Doc says.  "But I still want 
to know."   

I turn back to the first picture.  What was he looking at when 
this was taken?  His eyes are at odds with his stern expression.  
He looks so sad.  Was he thinking of his home?  His family?  I 
feel my throat beginning to close off with emotion.  I excuse 
myself and stand up, leaving the room as quickly as I can without 
arousing Lois' suspicions.  I head outside, to the front porch, 
where the second picture was taken.  I lean against the same 
pillar Lucas did, craving the connection with him.  I hear the 
screen door open and then close.  Lois comes up quietly beside me 
and leans against the rail, her elbows resting on the spot where 
Doc's grandfather stood for the picture. 

"Clark?  Is something wrong?" she asks softly.

"Just... wondering if Doc is right about Lucas."

"I don't know.  That would really be something, wouldn't it?"

"Are you glad you came now?"

She lets out a small laugh and nudges me with her shoulder.  
"Like you have to ask!" 

"But I am asking."  My longing for a connection with Lucas is 
somewhat assuaged by my connection with Lois.  I'm so glad she's 
here, even if I can't think how to tell her why that is. 

"Okay," she allows.  "I'm glad I came."

"Even if it means having to hang out with a bunch of freaks?"

"You said Josh was your friend," she chides in a light tone.

"He is, but the rest of them seem just a little off-center, don't 
they?"  I still feel hollow inside but the banter with Lois helps 
to fill the emptiness.  Actually, just being around her seems to 
fill that loneliness inside me.  Is that the attraction?  It 
sounds so cliched to say, but I don't know how else to explain 
it. 

She laughs at my assessment.  "I don't know who's worse, Emily or 
Marty." 

"What's wrong with Emily?" I tease.

"She's okay, if you like that type."

"What type is that?"

"Blonde.  Nail-biter.  Vindictive."

"Careful, Lois, I might start thinking you're jealous."

"Jealous?  You wish!  Since when are you the ideal male?"

"You have no idea."

"Don't I?"  She raises her eyebrow and smirks at me.

Oh, the answers I could give to that.  "No, I don't think you 
do." 

Her eyes take on a flirtatious twinkle.  "Suppose you tell me."

"Nah."  I shake my head.  "You're a prize-winning journalist, I'm 
sure you'll figure it out."  God help me if she ever remembers 
this conversation when she finally pieces together who Superman 
is.  It's not that I don't think about telling her, I'm just 
afraid of her reaction after I do.  I can't decide between 
dropping a hint so large she can't help but realize the truth or 
just straight-up telling her. 

"So... do you like her?"  

"Not in the same way that I like you."

"Oh," she says.  Her mouth curves into a small, pleased smile.

There's something about her smile and my own inner turmoil that 
makes me long for the time when my life was simpler.  "It's hot, 
Lois.  Let's go for a swim." 

"A swim?  Where?"

"In the lake."

"But... I didn't pack a swimsuit."

"So?"

"So I'm not about to go skinny-dipping with you!"

I think about teasing her that Emily would, but decide against 
it.  "Who said anything about skinny-dipping?  We'll just strip 
down to our underwear.  C'mon, Lois, it's going to be too dark to 
see anything anyway."  Too dark for her.  I'll just have to not 
look. 

She bites her lower lip while she considers.  "It is hot..." she 
allows.  I give her an encouraging smile and she shakes her head 
with a laugh.  "Okay, fine.  But you have to swear to me that you 
won't look." 

"Only if you promise not to look, too."

Her eyes sweep across my shoulders and she smiles.  "Let's go 
before I change my mind." 

We go through the house to the back porch.  There are a couple of 
flashlights sitting on a table outside the back door.  Lois grabs 
one and goes first, lighting the way for us both as we follow the 
trail to the fishing pier.  The pier juts out about fifteen feet 
into the lake at a point where the shore slopes steeply.  There 
are rails along the side since the drop to the water below is at 
least six feet.  

I pull off my shoes and socks, tucking my glasses into one of my 
shoes.  The moon is only three-quarters full.  Its light is dim 
but not that faint, if she looks hard enough.  Part of me wonders 
if I'm doing this just so she can see me without glasses while my 
hair is slicked back.  It would feel so good to unburden myself 
to her tonight.  All I need is the right opening and I can 
confess everything.  You think I look like Superman?  Well, 
funnily enough...   

Lois appears to hesitate just for a moment and then she takes her 
shoes off.   I pull off my jeans and t-shirt and fold them, 
stacking them on top of my shoes before tucking the bundle just 
under the boards of the pier.  I walk to the end and climb over 
the railing.  I glance back in time to see Lois tugging her shirt 
over her head.  I grin and jump into the water.  The water is 
cool but not cold.  It's the perfect antidote to the humidity 
still heavy in the evening air.  Treading water, I look up to see 
Lois peering over the railing above me. 

"Come on in, the water's fine!"

"Are there any rocks?"

"Nope."

"How deep is it?"

"I'm not touching the bottom here."

She only hesitates for a moment.  Then she climbs over the 
railing and leaps with a squeal.  After a couple of seconds she 
surfaces and laughs with delight.  We swim back to shore, 
scrambling up the steep bank and across the pier to jump in 
again.  I'm wading back into shallower water when she launches 
herself at me from behind, pulling me off balance.  I let myself 
fall back in the water, taking her with me.  She swims away when 
I splash at her in retaliation.  I start back again for the 
shore; it's not until I'm about to jump in again that I realize I 
don't hear her swimming anymore.   

"Lois?"  I can hear her breathing, so I know she hasn't gone 
under. 

"Over here," she calls out in a lazy voice.  "Can you see me?"

I scan the water and pick her out easily.  She's floating on her 
back about thirty feet off-shore.  Her eyes are fixed on the 
starry sky and wide with wonder.  I dive in and swim out to join 
her.  I roll over, tipping my head back in the water and look up 
at the stars.  Even though I'm used to a clear night sky I'm 
still in awe at the sight. 

"Look at them all," Lois says, her voice full of amazement.  "I 
never realized there were so many stars.  Does it look like this 
in Kansas?" 

"Yes," I answer.  

She sighs.  "I don't think I've ever envied you more."

I don't answer her; just smile to myself.  Her hand brushes my 
shoulder setting off a pleasant flutter in my stomach. 

"Do you think Lucas Peregrine is related to Superman?"

"I don't know," I say slowly.  How should I reveal this to her?  
"Superman said he came here as a baby.  Lucas was here a hundred 
years earlier.  I don't see how they could be related." 

"Oh," Lois says quietly.  "Was he really from Krypton or was 
Grandpa just senile?" 

I don't answer, overwhelmed by questions of my own.  Is it really 
possible that I'm not the first one from Krypton to come here?  
How did he get here?  Where was the family Lucas said he had - 
here or on Krypton?  What happened to them?  If there are 
descendants of Lucas here, do they have powers?  Or were his 
progeny killed when Krypton exploded? 

"It would be nice, wouldn't it, if Superman had someone?" Lois 
asks, her voice distant and thoughtful. 

I should tell her that he *does* have someone.  Or, he's trying, 
at any rate.  "He has you," I say hesitantly. 

Lois moves so that she's treading water instead of floating.  
"Well, sure, he has you too." 

"That's not what I meant."  I join her in treading water.  I can 
feel the undertow as she pedals her legs.  It mirrors the 
invisible undertow that she's exerted over me since day one. 

"Not what you... oh... no, it's really not like that, Clark."

"Hello?" Marty calls from the shore.  "Lois?  Clark?  Is that you 
two?" 

"Yes," Lois calls back.  "Busted," she giggles under her breath.

On shore I hear Marty snicker quietly before he shouts, "Don't 
mind me!  I was just checking." 

"We should probably go back now," Lois says.

"Okay."  I want to beg her to stay for just a few more minutes, 
but we can't have this conversation with Marty within earshot. 

We both swim to shore.  Marty has gone into the tent.  His 
silhouette looms large against the canvas from the lamp's light.  
We dress quickly, our clothes sticking to our wet skin and 
underwear. 

"Next time we should just skinny-dip," Lois laughs.  "This didn't 
do much good, did it?" 

"Not really," I agree.  My mind wanders, thinking about tomorrow 
night and the possibility of skinny-dipping with Lois.  Would 
being naked help or hurt my chances of having her hear me out?  
She couldn't really storm off if she was worried that I might see 
her, could she?   

Lois turns on the flashlight and starts up the trail.  She waves 
the beam over the tent as we pass.  "Good night, Marty!" she 
calls. 

"Good night!" he yells back.

A few yards away from the house she stops and shines the 
flashlight on me.  "So what's our plan for tomorrow?" 

I raise my hand to block the light.  Caught by surprise, and 
already feeling off-kilter, I can't think of a thing to say. 

"Clark?  Did you hear me?"  She drops the light's beam to my 
chest instead of my eyes. 

"Sorry, yes, I heard you.  I just...  I don't know.  I think I'd 
rather help out with the dig than go into town and look for the 
missing silver." 

"My thoughts exactly," Lois says enthusiastically.  

Lois' obsession with Superman usually falls under one of three 
categories - flattering, amusing or just a little unsettling.  
Tonight it's plain old irritating.  "I should have known you'd 
never pass up the opportunity for a new angle on Superman."   

"What the hell?"  She shines the light in my face again.  "Tell 
me that's not why you're more interested in that hole in the 
ground over finding someone's tarnished old tea service!" 

"That's... different," I say lamely.  There's no way I'm telling 
her anything now.   

"It's no different.  Just because you're such good friends with 
Superman doesn't mean you have dibs on any story about him!" 

"Lois, that's not what I meant.  It's not about the story..."

"Oh really?  I beg to differ.  I saw you looking at those 
pictures.  I've never seen you thinking so hard.  I'd bet you all 
ready have half the story written." 

She turns away before I can reply and quickly covers the 
remaining distance to the house.  The screen door slams and 
bounces behind her.  Lois wouldn't appreciate the comparison to 
Emily, but she's acting exactly like her. 

I look back towards the dig site and then close my eyes.  I 
suddenly feel very alone.  I wish Marty hadn't interrupted us and 
yet...  And yet I'm grateful that he did.  Nothing is more 
frightening to behold than Lois when she's righteously indignant. 
 It's better, isn't it, that she's angry over an imagined slight 
than something as serious as deceiving her? 

I open my eyes.  I can just make out the light from the tent 
through the trees.  I think about Lucas, buried somewhere nearby. 
 If he was from Krypton he took his secret to the grave.  It 
would appear he was close to Doc's grandfather but Lucas never 
confided in him. 

<"He always lived alone.">

Was he lonely?  He didn't talk about his family.  Were they in 
his thoughts or was he escaping them by coming here?  I think 
about the two pictures.  One so sad and solemn and the other a 
moment of spontaneous laughter. 
 
<"He had a wonderful sense of humor.">

But who was he?  Was he happy here?  Why was he here?

<"It would be nice, wouldn't it, if Superman had someone?">

Ah, Lois, it would be nice.  But how do I tell you?  

<><><>

The next morning dawns bright and clear.  The air is already 
heavy with humidity as we all head towards the dig site.  It's 
going to be a scorcher of a day.   Marty waves to us as we come 
out of the trees.  Emily and Doc head into the tent when we reach 
the cabin.  Josh gestures for Lois and me to join him at the 
shallow end of the trench.  

"Let me just run over some protocol with you before we work your 
fingers to the bone," Josh says.  "Always enter the trench from 
this end.  Unless you're actually working, try not to touch the 
walls of the trench.  The trench is sectioned.  Everything taken 
out of it is labeled with the coordinates of where it was 
removed.  All finds need to be documented with a picture in-situ 
before they're removed from the ground.  We remove the soil in 
here a layer at a time and all of the dirt goes into one of these 
buckets."  Josh points at a stack of empty five-gallon buckets.  
"We'll start you out with sifting.  You can take out earthworms 
and obvious tree roots but everything else is considered a field 
specimen and needs to be placed in a box and labeled with the 
bucket's coordinates." 

"Got it," Lois says impatiently.  Josh looks a little pained and 
indicates that we should follow him into the tent.  There's 
another long folding table inside.  Josh shows us how to sift a 
spadeful of dirt at a time through the screen.  He instructs us 
never to throw out any dirt until it's been okayed by either 
himself or Doc.  Then he claps me on the shoulder.  "Clark, we're 
going to shore up the house today since we have you here." 

It takes until lunchtime to assemble a makeshift scaffolding 
along the north wall of the cabin.  When we finish it doesn't 
seem much more stable to me, but Doc and Josh seem satisfied.  
Marty shakes his head and throws me a look that tells me he's not 
holding out much hope for the structure either.  Emily and Josh 
head up to the house together to bring back lunch.   

I stand near the edge of the deep end of the trench and watch 
Lois listlessly scraping dirt into a bucket.  She's in a tank top 
and jeans with her hair pulled back in a ponytail threaded 
through the back of a baseball cap.  Her arms and shoulders are 
smudged with dirt.  I watch as she swipes at her face, leaving a 
small trail across her cheek.  A trickle of sweat streaks across 
her clavicle and heads straight down into her cleavage.  I should 
look away, but I don't since she takes the front of her shirt and 
pulls it back and forth to fan herself. 

"You look hot, Lois," I tell her.  I grin at the double meaning.  
She really does look sexy, though I doubt she'd believe me. 

"I am hot, Clark," she grumbles and pulls the brim of her hat 
lower.  "I'm miserably hot; thanks for noticing." 

I glance over at Marty and Doc; they're still assessing the 
scaffolding.  Lois hasn't looked up from her trowling.  I take a 
small breath and blow cool air over her in the trench. 

"Ohh, finally, a breeze," she murmurs and tilts her head down to 
let it blow across the back of her neck.  It would almost be 
worth getting caught to have her see where her 'breeze' was 
coming from.  But she doesn't look up and Doc calls for me to 
rejoin them.  I send one last breeze at her in the trench before 
heading back over to the cabin.   

It's wrong, isn't it, that I find the relieved sigh she makes 
such a turn on? 

<><><>

It's nearing five o'clock when Josh asks Lois and me to take the 
remaining unprocessed buckets from today back up to the house.  
There are four buckets and we each grab two.  Lois takes a step 
and sets one of them down.  "Too heavy," she says.  "I'll come 
back for it."   

I pick up her bucket, carrying two in my right hand and one with 
my left.  "Show off," Lois murmurs as she follows me up the 
trail. 

"Hey, Clark," Emily calls out from the porch as I get close to 
the stairs.  "I have to run into town.  Since you're cooking 
tonight, do you want to ride along to the store?" 

I glance back.  Lois is still struggling up the path, lugging her 
pail along with jerky steps.  The glare she gives me is proof 
enough that she heard Emily's question.  I climb the stairs and 
set the buckets down.  "Just a second," I tell Emily before I 
hurry over to help Lois. 

When I reach to take the bucket from her she swings it away.  
"I've got it, Clark," she grits out. 

"I'm going into town with Emily," I tell her.  "Do you want to 
ride along?"  I don't want to leave her here alone when we still 
don't know who left the picture on the back of her door.   

Lois has reached the porch and she rests the bucket on each step 
as she climbs the stairs.  I'm about to repeat the question when 
she reaches the last step.  She drops the bucket with a heavy 
thunk and wipes her hands on the back of her jeans.  "Sure," she 
says sweetly.  "Why not?" 

Her words are at total odds with her body language.  I look over 
at Emily and she's smiling at Lois.  "We can wait while you get 
cleaned up," Emily says. 

Lois looks down at herself, her expression unconcerned.  "Nope, 
I'm all right.  If you're going dressed like that, I should be 
fine." 

Wow.  Emily doesn't even blink.  She simply says, "Okay.  Let's 
go." 

The drive into town is just as frightening as the drive from the 
airport.  Emily speeds down the hill from the house and takes the 
corner before the bridge on two wheels.   This time Lois doesn't 
pretend to enjoy the ride; she just glares at the windshield the 
entire time. 

The town of Valentia is tiny, even by Smallville standards.  We 
drive over a two-lane bridge and past a small park.  A gas 
station, a bar, and a little grocery store are lined up next to 
each other.  Emily parks the truck on the opposite side of the 
street in front of an ancient-looking movie theater.  No films 
are advertised and it looks like it's been years since anything 
was shown there.   

The heat is oppressive, even to me.  The inside of the grocery 
store isn't much better.  I'm wandering down the aisle in search 
of a bottle of wine when I hear a metallic screech followed by 
screams.  I lower my glasses to look outside.  A bus with 'Lucas 
Lake YMCA Camp' emblazoned across its side is hanging off the 
bridge over the river. 

I'm looking around for a likely excuse when the front door of the 
store opens and a distressed woman yells, "Chester!  Call for 
help!  A bus has gone off the bridge!" 

Lois and Emily both rush to follow the woman back outside.  
Chester pulls a phone out from under the counter and starts 
dialing.  I slip into the storage room and then out the back 
door, changing as go.  I fly swiftly to the bridge and lift the 
front end of the bus, moving it back onto firm ground.  I'm just 
coming around the side of the bus when Lois calls out, 
"Superman!" 

I turn in time to see her running her hand self-consciously 
through her hair.  Emily is standing next to her, gaping openly 
at me.  Lois looks as flustered as I feel.  "What are you doing 
here?" Lois asks. 

"Just passing through.  Excuse me."  I fly off quickly, mentally 
kicking myself for showing up.  Most of the kids were already out 
of the bus and nobody was in immediate danger.  I may have just 
blown it.  I hurry through the alley and into the storeroom, 
changing back into my clothes.  I jog through the store, bumping 
into Lois as I open the front door. 

"Where were you?" she asks.

"In the bathroom.  Why?"

She lets out a disgusted sigh.  "That figures.  You just barely 
missed seeing Superman." 

"Superman?  Here?"

"I know!  It's weird, huh?"

"Why is it weird?"  I look past her and see Emily standing 
outside, still looking up at the sky in the direction I flew 
away. 

Lois narrows her eyes at me.  For a heart-stopping moment I'm 
certain that she's figured it out.  "He didn't even talk to me," 
she mutters. 

"Obviously he was on his way to some other emergency," I 
improvise. 

Lois shrugs.   Emily comes back inside.  "I've never seen 
Superman in real life before," she says with a touch of wonder.  
"He's taller than I thought he'd be." 

<><><>

Lois excuses herself to go upstairs as soon as we got back to the 
house.  I'm absolutely certain she's up there writing.  Emily 
follows me into the kitchen and perches herself on the counter to 
watch me cook. 

 "Why archaeology?" I ask her.  "What made this your life's 
ambition?" 

"Wow - I'm not sure this is really my life's ambition.  I just 
love the sensation of holding something and knowing I'm the first 
person in centuries to touch it.  I like to think about who had 
it last, what it meant to them.  It's... kinda dumb, huh?  Living 
in the past like that?" 

"No, not at all.  I think I can understand the impulse."

She smiles at me and sneaks a carrot from the pile that I've 
peeled. 

"So what about your family?" she asks around the crunch of the 
carrot.  "How many siblings?" 

"Only child," I answer.

"Lucky you," she sighs.  "I have an older brother.  He's... a 
typical older brother, I guess." 

"What does he do?"

"He's in the military but I guess it's something he can't really 
talk about much."  She rolls her eyes.  "I bet he's really a 
paper pusher and he just says that to make it sound more 
interesting.  He admired the hell out of our uncle who actually 
was some kind of covert big shot." 

"He was?  Did he retire?"

"Killed in the line of duty," Emily says quietly.  "But, because 
of his job, that's all they would tell us." 

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you."  Emily shakes her head.  "Talk about a buzz kill.  
Let's change the subject.  Superman seemed to recognize Lois 
today.  Do you guys know him?" 

"Yeah, he's, uh, helped us on some stories."

"Cool!  You're a writer?  Like for a magazine?"

"Yeah, like for a magazine."  It's easier to go along with her 
than to correct her. 

"So are you guys friends or something?"

"Me and Superman?" I clarify.  I'm pretty sure she's not 
referring to Lois. 

Emily nods.

"We're friends," I allow.  "I guess I know him as well as 
anyone." 

"What's he like?"

"He's... nice," I say lamely.

"Nice!" she snorts.  "He's nice to look at, anyway."

"I..." I don't know what to say to that.  

Emily laughs.  "I guess you probably don't spend much time 
looking at him like that." 

"No," I shake my head and laugh with her.  "Not at all."

"He must be nice," she says dreamily.  "I mean, he has all those 
powers and yet he only uses them to help people.  Why is that?" 

"Because he can help.  He can make a difference."

Emily laughs.  "Is he really that naive?"

"Superman is not naive!" Lois exclaims from behind us.  Emily and 
I both jump in surprise.   

Emily slides off the counter as she says, "Whatever.  Don't have 
a freakin' cow, I just think it's a little naive not to have some 
ulterior motive."  She takes another carrot and leaves the 
kitchen. 

Lois glares at me.  "Getting a little friendly with the enemy, 
aren't we, Clark?" 

"The enemy?"

"Yeah, for all you know she's our stalker."

I laugh.  "Is that all that's bothering you?  Or are you still 
upset because Superman didn't talk to you today?" 

"I just wanted to tell him about Lucas Peregrine!  That's all."

"Sure."  I know she absolutely hates it when I agree with her 
like this. 

Lois crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the 
counter as she sulks.  The back door bangs shut and Marty comes 
into the kitchen.  Lois ignores him in favor of harassing me.  
"Why do you assume that I can't mention Superman without some 
ulterior motive?" 

"Oh, I don't know.  Maybe it's just two years of experience?"

"He's never been that abrupt before.  I'm telling you, Clark, it 
was weird.  The whole thing was weird." 

It's the last thing I want to talk about.  Marty looks curious.  
"You saw Superman acting weird?  Where?" 

"Here!" Lois turns to him, happy for an audience.  "I saw him in 
town today." 

"Superman was in Valentia today?  That is weird."  Marty looks 
thoughtful. 

"I don't know why it's so weird that he'd be here.  He helps out 
all over the world.  He may have just been flying over on his way 
to somewhere else."  I definitely shouldn't have brought the suit 
with me.  How long until everyone just lets it drop? 

Lois and Marty both look unconvinced.  "I think he's just a weird 
guy, period," says Marty.  "Emily thinks I'm a freak?  He's the 
real freak." 

Lois looks to be as taken aback by his sudden vehemence as I am, 
but Marty is just warming up to his subject. 

"He's an alien, you know?  He's not even from here.  Some people 
say he's just the advance guard for an entire invasion.  This 
whole thing with Lucas is scary.  What if Lucas was the advance 
guard and Superman is the next wave?" 

"You don't really think that, do you?" I ask cautiously.

"No," Marty shakes his head.  "But I know some people who do.  
Some of the re-enactors I hang out with are huge conspiracy 
theorists and they have a lot of interesting ideas about 
Superman." 

<><><>

After dinner Josh invites us to go into town with him, Marty and 
Emily.  Two or three nights of the week they hang out at the bar 
there.  I'm in no mood to go back to Valentia and I turn him down 
politely.  Lois also declines and she sits down next to me on the 
top step of the front porch as they drive away. 

"Why didn't you go along?" I ask.

"Josh is okay, but neither Emily nor Marty are my idea of good 
company," she answers. 

"True."

"Besides," she leans just a little towards me.  "I was hoping 
we'd go swimming again." 

"Are you skinny-dipping this time?"

"Not even if you paid me," she grins.  Then she stands up, 
holding her hand out to me.  I take it and let her help pull me 
to a standing position.  She doesn't let go of my hand; in fact, 
she clasps it with both her hands.  "Ask me the other reason why 
I'm glad I came along on this story," she says softly. 

"Why are you glad you came?"

"Because this is the first time since we started dating that you 
haven't run off just when things are getting interesting." 

"And are things getting interesting right now?"

She lets go of my hand and blushes.  "Maybe.  C'mon, Clark, take 
me swimming." 

<><><>

This time Lois beats me at getting undressed and into the water.  
She dives in and swims a short distance before turning over to 
float on her back.  I swim out to join her. 

"It's like floating in the stars, you know?" she says dreamily.

"Almost," I tell her.  Truthfully, this is actually better than 
floating in the sky.  The sky is so empty and vast whereas the 
lake feels like being embraced in something tangible.  Then 
again, it might just be her company that makes me feel so 
grounded. 

I stare up at the sky and wonder if Lucas ever floated in the 
lake like this.  Could he pick out Krypton's sun among all the 
stars?  Was he stranded here or did he come here deliberately?  
The only things I learned about him today were that he ate a lot 
of chicken and could have picked a sturdier wood to build his 
house.  I can't decide if it's my imagination or if it's 
intuition that tells me there is something waiting for me in that 
cabin.  Every time I went near the northeast corner my skin 
seemed to almost hum.  Then again, Lois was down in the trench 
only a few feet away and she often has the same effect on me. 

There's a soft splash and I realize that Lois is swimming back 
towards the shore. 

"Ha!" I call out to her.  "You're one the doing the leaving 
now." 

The splashing stops.  "I'm not leaving you; I was just going back 
to shore." 

"Wait, I'll come with you."

We're wading through the shallow water when she stumbles and 
falls sideways against me.  I grab her, putting my arm around her 
waist for support.  In the moonlight I can see the way her wet 
bra clings to her.   Oh god, this might be a bad idea.  I try to 
pull away, letting go of her waist but she grabs my arm to steady 
herself. 

She places her other hand on my chest.  Can she feel how fast my 
heart is beating at her touch?  I swallow, feeling trapped by 
both lust and the realization that she's looking directly at me.  
I'm not wearing glasses, surely she can't miss the resemblance? 

"Clark?" she whispers.  Her hands don't move from my arm and 
chest.  Our eyes meet and her mouth parts slightly.  I wait for 
it, the exclamation, the accusation, maybe even a good hearty 
slap.  Nothing.  Maybe she really doesn't see it.   

Or maybe, it dawns on me, she's waiting for you to kiss her.  
Maybe she's actually not even thinking about Superman right now.  
I bend a little closer and her eyes close.  I was reading that 
right - she wants me to kiss her! 

She leans closer; close enough that her breasts skim my chest as 
my lips brush lightly across hers.  She exhales and then her 
hands move to the back of my neck, pulling my mouth down firmly 
to hers.  Her lips part, her tongue tastes my upper lip quickly 
before disappearing back into her mouth.  I follow it with my 
own, feeling bolder as her lips part to give me access. 

The kiss becomes more urgent and deep.  I wrap my arms around 
her, thrilling to the feel of her skin against mine.  Lois 
smoothes her hands over my shoulders and down my chest, she's 
never touched me like this before and I can feel my self-control 
slipping.  I want to touch her back, be as bold in caressing her 
as she is in exploring me, but I don't dare.  I break the kiss 
first, telling her in a ragged whisper that we ought to go back 
to the house now. 

She sighs and then agrees with me.  Was that hesitation?  Did she 
want more?  Have I called a stop to this too soon? 

It doesn't matter.  The moment is gone.  Lois wades out of the 
lake and starts to get dressed.  I take a couple of deep breaths 
to steady myself and then join her.   

I put my glasses on first, just in case.

<><><>

We spend the next morning preparing the dig site for the bad 
weather that Doc's predicting.   Securing a tarp over the trench 
takes all six of us since the wind has picked up.  It begins to 
rain as we lug buckets back to the house.   

We settle into the sitting room.  Emily keyboards more index card 
entries into the computer.  I sift one of the buckets.  Josh is 
showing Lois how to clean field specimens.  Marty and Doc are 
occupied with filling out index cards and cross-checking them 
against the field specimens log from the tent. 

After a few hours we're all feeling a little stir crazy.  It 
doesn't help when the ceiling light flickers and dies.  Emily 
swears and pushes back from the now-dead computer.  She joins Doc 
in sorting through the index cards stacked on the middle of the 
three tables. 

"We lose power out here a lot," Josh explains.  "Usually during 
storms, but sometimes for no discernable reason." 

The rain has done nothing to disperse the heat inside the house.  
It's uncomfortably hot and muggy, even with the windows open.   

"I know where I know you from!"  Marty snaps his fingers and 
points at Lois.  "You're that reporter from Metropolis!  The one 
who kissed Superman before he took out the Nightfall asteroid 
last year, aren't you?" 

The room falls silent.  Emily and Doc stop what they're doing and 
look over.  Josh gives me a regretful shrug.   

"Umm," Lois says, her cheeks beginning to flush.

"That was you?"  Emily looks at Lois with new eyes.  "I remember 
that.  You practically made out with him on national 
television." 

"Actually, it was more like international television." I can't 
stop myself from adding that little tidbit, if only because it 
makes Lois blush even harder. 

Lois shakes her head.  "I didn't make out with Superman.  I was 
just... kissing him for luck." 

In which case, I wish she'd kiss me for luck every day.

"I don't know," Marty says dubiously.  "I seem to remember it as 
being pretty intense." 

"Is he a good kisser?" Emily asks.

Lois rolls her eyes and sighs.

"Yeah," I speak up when it seems that she's not going to answer.  
"Is he a good kisser?" 

Lois shoots me a disgusted look.  "I don't kiss and tell!"

"Oh, come on," Marty cajoles her.  "Just answer 'yes' or 'no'."

"Have you kissed him more than once?  Or was that the only time?" 
Emily leans forward to rest her elbows on the table as she waits 
for Lois to answer. 

Lois scrubs at the field specimen in front of her, trying to 
ignore all of us.  Even though Josh and Doc haven't joined in the 
questioning, they're waiting for her to answer, too. 

"She's kissed him more than once," I offer cheerfully.

"Clark!  You're not being helpful here."  Lois slams the 
toothbrush she was using for cleaning down onto the table. 

"How many times?" Marty asks.

"I'm not going to answer any questions about kissing Superman."  
Lois sets the specimen aside and stands up.  "Now, if you'll all 
just excuse me, I have something else to do."  And, with that, 
she leaves the room. 

"Wow, she's a little touchy, isn't she?" Emily smirks.

She has *no* idea.  

I think about following Lois but I know she's not going to talk 
to me for at least the next hour.  I'll finish sifting this 
bucket and then I'll go find her. 

<><><>

"Lois?"  I knock softly on her door.  "Are you in there?"

It's something of a rhetoric question since I know she's in 
there.  What's less certain is whether she'll answer me. 

She lets out a sigh and then I hear her footsteps.  She opens the 
door a few inches and glares at me.  "What do you want?  Because, 
unless you're here to apologize, I don't want to talk to you." 

"Apologize?"

"Yes!"

"For what?"  I know why she wants an apology, but I can't help 
baiting her when she's acting this petulant. 

She starts to shut the door so I put my foot in the opening to 
stall her.  "Okay, I'm sorry." 

"For what?"  She's not going to make this easy.

"For... whatever it is you think I did."  I'm not going to make 
it easy either. 

"Move your foot."

"Lois, I'm sorry."  I try again.  "I shouldn't have teased you 
like that." 

"You're my partner, Clark!  You're supposed to take my side.  
You're not supposed to add fuel to the fire, pointing out how 
many times I've kissed Superman." 

"I didn't say how many times.  I only said you'd kissed him more 
than once."  I know I'm splitting hairs, but I feel compelled to 
point out the distinction. 

"I didn't realize you were keeping track.  How many times is it, 
Clark?  Do you know?" 

I tense, there's a dangerous undercurrent beneath that question.  
"I don't know."  It's a bad lie but she doesn't call me on it.   

"Are you jealous of him?  Is that it?"

The truth is, until recently, I was jealous of Superman.  It's a 
conundrum that has kept me awake far too many nights to mention.  
Since we started dating, however, I've felt a little more secure 
around her. 

"No..."

This time she does pick up on the lie.  "You are jealous!"

I take my foot away from the door and step back.  "Anyway, I'm 
sorry.  I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were 
okay." 

She opens the door all the way.  "Admit it.  You're jealous."

I take another step back.  "I'm not jealous."

"Do you really want to know?  Because I'll tell you."  She 
follows me out into the hallway. 

"Tell me what?"

"If Superman's a good kisser.  After all, you did ask me."

I feel like a deer in headlights.  Of course I want to know the 
answer to that question but there are danger signals going off in 
my brain. 

Lois takes my silence for assent and she shrugs.  "He's not bad." 
  

I don't know whether to be relieved or insulted.  "That's it?  
Just 'not bad'?" 

Lois shakes her head in disgust.  "There's no pleasing you, is 
there?  I thought you'd be happy to know that you're a better 
kisser than he is." 

"I am?"  How does she figure that?  I just stare at her.

"You seem disappointed."  Her eyebrows furrow as she frowns.  
"Why are you disappointed?" 

"I'm not disappointed.  I guess I'm just... surprised."

"That I'd rate you as better than Superman?"

That, too.  

"Well, you have to admit, that's a first."

Her expression clouds.  "I... I'm a terrible person, aren't I?"

"What?  No, Lois, that's not what I'm saying."  

"But it's true.  I've been mooning over Superman since the first 
time I saw him.  And I never have compared you favorably to him." 
  

I wish I could say she's exaggerating but she's not.

"The truth is I compared every man I've met for the past two 
years against Superman.  It wasn't just you, if that makes you 
feel any better.  And..." her voice trails off and she looks down 
at her feet. 

"And?" I prompt.

"And nothing.  I'm sorry.  That's it."

"I'm sorry, too.  You're right, I shouldn't have teased you like 
that." 

She looks up and gives me the same shy smile as she did when I 
forgave her for slamming the door in my face after our first 
date. 

"You really are a nice guy, Clark.  Maybe even nicer than 
Superman." 

"Nicer than Superman?"

"Well, yeah.  He has to be nice, it's sorta his job.  You're just 
nice because you're you." 

"So I'm a better kisser and I'm nicer than Superman?  Anything 
else?" 

"You should stop while you're still ahead."

"Okay."  I reach out and touch her cheek.  She puts her hand over 
mine and looks up at me, her eyes soft with affection.  God, I 
want to tell her.  Right now.  But there are four people sitting 
downstairs who are probably straining their ears to listen in on 
our conversation.  It's not the kind of thing you can tell 
someone, especially Lois, with an audience.  If only it wasn't 
raining, we could take a walk and I could tell her everything. 

"What?" she asks, her expression curious.

"Huh?"

"You look like you want to say something."

"I did.  I do.  I just..." I tilt my head towards the stairs.  "I 
want to talk to you, just not with an audience." 

She steps closer and I immediately start thinking about how it 
felt to kiss her last night in the lake.  "You could just whisper 
it," she says softly. 

I swallow; she really needs to back up a few inches or I'm going 
to lose all coherence.  "It's not what you think it is.  I 
mean... would you be willing to go for a walk?" 

That does the trick.  She steps back just as a crack of thunder 
shakes the house.  "A walk?  Are you serious?" 

I nod.  She folds her arms over her chest and frowns.  "I'm not 
going for a walk in this." 

"I'll tell you later."

"You could tell me now."

The mood has totally passed.  I shake my head.  "Forget it, it 
wasn't that important." 

I head into my room and stop dead.  Sitting on my pillow is 
another picture.  Lois and Emily are in profile, both of them 
looking up and shading their eyes.  It had to have been taken 
yesterday when we were in town.  I don't pick it up, lowering my 
glasses to check it for fingerprints.  There are none.   

Lois comes in as I'm pushing my glasses back up.  She looks over 
to see what has captured my attention and then gasps.  "Oh my 
god!"   She brushes past me to pick up the picture.  

"Damn," she says, looking at it.  "I really thought Emily was 
behind this." 

I laugh, in spite of myself.  "Do you want to take it downstairs 
and interrogate everyone?" 

"No.  I don't want to give him the satisfaction."  She shakes her 
head emphatically.  Then she turns the picture over; her hand 
trembles. 

'LOIS LANE WILL LEAVE HERE IN A BOX' is written on the back in 
large block letters.   

"In a box?" Lois says in disgust.  "In a box?  That's so stupid, 
isn't it?"  She looks up at me, her eyes dark with worry. 

"I'm sure they're just trying to upset us, that's all."  I 
include myself in that statement because I'm certainly upset.  
Would she get the hint if I picked her up and flew her out the 
window to somewhere safe? 

There's a flash of lightning and an almost immediate crack of 
thunder.  That one was close.  Lois jumps, her hand reaching out 
instinctively for my arm.  "I wish we could go for that walk," 
she says, her fingers tightening on my bicep.  Her expression 
changes from frightened to determined and she releases my arm to 
walk over and shut the door firmly. 

"You were right, Clark.  We should talk."

She comes back over and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the 
space next to her in invitation.  I sit down heavily, not sure 
what it is she wants to talk about.  I've done a quick risk 
assessment and there's simply no way I can tell her.  Not even if 
we left the house - we'd still have to come back sometime and two 
years of subterfuge is not something she's likely to forgive 
quickly.  Or quietly. 

"Let's think about this logically, okay?" she starts and then 
begins ticking points off on her fingers.  "One; someone left 
pictures of me on my desk at the Planet.  Two; someone left a 
picture of us, in Metropolis, on the back of my door.  Three; 
someone has left another picture, taken in Valentia, but this 
time there's a message on the back.  Now, are all three of these 
things connected or am I just that popular?" 

"They have to be connected," I tell her.  "It's just too much of 
a coincidence otherwise." 

"Right.  But those first pictures showed up on my desk at least a 
week before you got the call from Josh to come out here.  So did 
someone send those pictures in advance of stealing the silver to 
bring us out here?" 

"Lois, we don't even know if they had found the silver yet when 
those pictures were left on your desk." 

Agitated, she stands up and throws her arms wide, narrowly 
missing me.  She turns away from me but not before I see her face 
twist in frustration and fear.  She moves to the desk, absently 
tracing the wood grain on its surface while she thinks. "Do you 
ever feel lost, Clark?" she asks quietly. 

She looks back at me and I nod.  "I just hate this.  I hate 
feeling trapped and clueless and..."  She turns back to the desk. 
 My heart beats faster - she's here.  My real Lois.  She's here 
and she's allowing me to see her. 

"Scared?" I finish for her.

"I hate that most of all."

I want to hold her, but that has to be her decision.

"Do you know what scares me most of all?"  This is said so softly 
that I doubt I could have heard her without superhearing. 

"What?"

"I know you think I'm reckless sometimes," she turns and sits 
back against the edge of the desk.  "And, truthfully, I probably 
push things further than I used to because of Superman.  I've 
gotten used to having him around.  He's always right there or 
close by.  And now, being all the way out here, it's like I'm 
working without a safety net.  Sure, he was in Valentia 
yesterday, but he was obviously in a hurry to be somewhere else.  
There's no guarantee that he'll be there if something happens." 

"Lois..." I start and then hesitate.  It's a great opening, but 
there are still four people downstairs and she's not likely to 
respond in a soft voice if I tell her.  "I'm here.  I would never 
let anyone hurt you." 

This elicits a small smile.  "I know that.  And it means a lot to 
me."  She pushes away from the desk and comes back over to me, 
resting her hands on my shoulders as she looks down at me.  "You 
know I would never let anyone hurt you either." 

I smile.  "Thanks."

Her fingers tighten a little on my shoulders.  "So... I guess 
there won't be any swimming tonight." 

"No, I guess not."

"That's a shame.  I was really looking forward to it."

Feeling bold, I put my hands on her waist and gently urge her 
forward so she's between my knees.  She comes willingly.  Her 
left hand leaves my shoulder to comb back my hair.  "Why?" I ask 
her.  "What's so great about swimming in a lake?" 

"The stars," she says wistfully.  "I love the night sky, all 
those stars. And..." 

"And?"

"And this."  She leans down and kisses me softly.

I hear the squeak of someone coming up the stairs.  I put my hand 
on the back of her head and deepen the kiss.  She lets out a soft 
moan at my sudden fervor but she kisses me back just as 
passionately.  She sinks down, settling herself onto my knee and 
wrapping her arms around me when there's a knock on the door. 

"Dinner's ready," Emily calls out.

Lois groans and pulls away from our kiss.  "I really don't like 
her." 

At this moment, neither do I.

<><><>

By morning the rain has stopped.  Humidity still hangs heavy in 
the air but the temperature is much cooler than the day before.  
Mist rises from the ground as we all hike towards the cabin.  It 
matches perfectly with my sense of foreboding.   

We roll the tarp back and find a few inches of water in the 
bottom of the trench.   

"Please tell me we're not working in there today," Lois gripes.

For once, Emily seems sympathetic.  "You can help in the tent 
today.  Let Marty and Doc work on the water situation." 

"Thanks," Lois says, a little surprised.

Josh and I check on the scaffolding along the north wall.  It 
shifted considerably from the wind so we decide to take it down 
and reassemble the whole thing again.  Marty and Doc spend the 
morning bailing and pumping the water out of the trench.  Every 
scoop of water is run through a sieve first, complicating and 
drawing out the process.  When I hear my name mentioned I freely 
eavesdrop on Lois and Emily as Josh and I take the scaffolding 
down. 

"So, you and Clark, how close are you guys?" Emily asks Lois.

"Oh," Lois is caught off-guard.  "We're really... he's my best 
friend.  And we're dating." 

"What about Superman?  Is there something there?"

Lois makes a little sighing laugh.  "Superman?  He's a good 
friend, too, but not like Clark.  I'm not dating him.  I mean, I 
guess I would, if he'd ask me.  But he never has.  And he's not 
naive, you know." 

Emily sighs.  "I didn't mean he was naive, it just seems odd that 
this perfect guy only exists to help people.  What does he do 
when he's not flying around fixing problems?" 

I can hear the smile in Lois' voice as she answers.  "I remember 
he once told me he had to run errands.  But they weren't stuff 
like picking up dry cleaning or grocery shopping.  He hangs out 
at neighborhood watch meetings and then he said he was going to 
prison." 

"Prison?" Emily giggles.  "I bet he's their favorite pin-up 
boy." 

Lois laughs with her.  "Yeah, he never did say why he was going 
to the prison, just that it was on his list of places to go." 

There's a pause and then Emily hesitantly asks, "So... is he a 
good kisser?  Superman, I mean.  He looks like he'd be a good 
kisser." 

There's a pause and I think that Lois isn't going to answer.  
Then she says very softly, "Yeah.  He is." 

But Clark is better, I think.  

Emily giggles again.  "I knew it!  He's just so... wow.  I'd only 
ever seen him in pictures or on TV, you know?  I guess it's a 
good thing he didn't come over to talk to us.  I don't think I 
could have said anything intelligent." 

"He does have that effect on people.  I still get nervous around 
him, not as often, but sometimes." 

"Clark!" Josh sounds frustrated.  "Are you helping or 
hindering?" 

"Sorry," I apologize, directing my attention away from the tent 
and over to Josh as he tries to steady a pillar.  We struggle 
with the post for a minute until I put a little extra effort into 
it and slide it firmly into place. 

"There are days when I think I need to seriously reconsider my 
career," Josh pants, wiping his forehead.  "We need to try and 
brace this wall from the inside.  I'm gonna take this post into 
the cabin and see if we can counter-balance the weight from the 
inside." 

"I'll do it," I tell Josh, taking the post from him.  I stand in 
the open doorway and look inside the cabin.  Sunlight slants 
through the spaces where the outside wall has spread.  Some of 
the planks from the wooden floor are missing, the rest creak 
beneath my feet as I move inside.  I carefully pick my way over 
to the northeast corner, feeling that same odd tingle along my 
skin.  I lean the post against the wall and then step back, 
looking to see a good spot to ground it.  I kneel down and pull 
up a couple of floor boards. 

"Clark?" Josh calls.  

"It's okay," I shout back.  "I'm just looking for a good spot 
to..."  Before I can finish there's a creak, then a loud snap and 
then both the pole and the entire wall are falling onto me.  I 
flatten myself on the floor, figuring that's the best idea.  As 
the weight of the wall and roof settle on me all I can think is 
that I'm glad I came inside instead of Josh.  I can hear the 
shouts and cries from outside.  The one that cuts through me is 
Lois' anguished, "Clark!"  I hear her struggle with Marty and 
Doc, trying to get closer to the cabin while they tell her to 
stay out. 

As soon as the crashing noise ends I call out, "I'm okay!"

"Clark?" Lois sounds almost frantic.  "Clark?  Can you hear me?"

"Yes!  I'm fine!"  And I really am.  It's a good thing I came 
inside instead of Josh.  The roof's center beam is resting 
directly across my back and head - it surely would have killed 
anybody else.  There's no way I can just crawl out of here 
without rousing suspicion so I let out a small sigh and settle in 
to wait until they've pulled enough of the cabin off of me to 
make it look like I was just really, really lucky. 

The commotion outside is intense.  Emily shouts that she's going 
to run back to the house and call for an ambulance.  Everyone 
else is involved in pulling the rubble away.  I can hear Lois, 
barking orders at them as she directs.  I feel guilty for making 
them all go to so much trouble, but after Marty's outburst about 
Superman there's no way I'm going to reveal myself. 

As they pull away wood the pile on top of me shifts again, 
pressing down even more heavily.   

"No!" Lois yells.  "Not like that!  Clark?  Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Lois!" I call back, turning my head towards where her 
voice was.  Something glints in the dark tomb I'm trapped in.  I 
reach out towards it and gasp when it hums at my touch.  It seems 
to be a small box, hidden inside the stones of the cabin's 
foundation.  I inch a little closer and grasp the end of the box, 
pulling it towards me.  It comes free from the foundation, still 
emitting a low hum that reminds me of the globe Jor-El left for 
me. 

A small beam of sunlight slants in from above me.  They're 
getting closer to having me free.  It also shows the odd 
hieroglyphics carved into the box.  Even though I can't read them 
I'm certain it's Kryptonian writing.  I turn it over in my hands, 
unsure how to open it.  There's no obvious lock or hinges.  It's 
fashioned from some type of metal but it's lightweight, measuring 
about five inches long, four inches across and only three inches 
high. 

Another beam of light slants across it.  On impulse I push it 
back where I found it, setting a stone in front of it to hide it. 
 Yes, I should give it to Doc.  It's part of his proof.  But I 
don't want to share it just yet.  Not until I know what it 
contains.  I know it's wrong, but it's my heritage, not Doc's.   

Lois's hand touches my ankle. "Clark?  Can you hear me? Are you 
okay?"  I twitch my leg, my guilt compounding with her relieved 
sigh.  I edge myself slowly out from under the beam - there's no 
way they could all lift it off of me.  Nor is there any way I 
could explain being unscathed from it crushing me.  As they pick 
another section of the wall off me, I roll into the free space 
they just opened up. 

Four anxious faces peer down at me.  I sit up and Marty and Josh 
each take my arms to help pull me out.   

"Be careful," Doc cautions.  "We don't know how badly he's 
hurt." 

"Actually, I think I got really lucky.  The beam from the ceiling 
kinda saved me." 

"Oh, thank God," Lois breathes, her face pinched with worry.  Her 
eyes dart back and forth as she checks to see if I'm really all 
right. 

Josh looks at me in amazement.  "You are one lucky son of a..."

"I can't believe it," Marty says.  "We thought you were dead, for 
sure." 

Lois touches my face.  "You're sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I promise.  I was just trapped, but I was okay."

Her eyes close briefly in relief.  When she opens them again her 
hand drops to encircle my wrist.  "I have to talk to you, Clark.  
Now!" 

Josh and Marty exchange a knowing look.  "Dude," Marty says with 
a laugh.  "We'll give you two a minute." 

Lois pulls me down the hill, stopping when we get to the pier.  
She looks back up the hill where Marty, Doc and Josh are looking 
at the rubble of the cabin and shaking their heads in disbelief. 

"That wasn't an accident, Clark.  Josh did it on purpose."

"Josh?  You're saying Josh is behind this?"

"I saw him, Clark!  I saw Josh messing around with the 
scaffolding.  He pushed on the wall and it fell over!" 

"Josh?  Lois, really..."

"I know he's your friend, but you need to look at this 
objectively.  Who set all this in motion to bring us out here?  
Who knew ahead of time that we would both be here?  Who knows 
that we work at the Daily Planet?  Josh!" 

"Lois, you're forgetting one thing.  Josh was here in Valentia - 
he couldn't have taken those pictures of you in Metropolis.  
Someone was already stalking you before he called me." 

"So he had an accomplice.  Maybe he had someone leave those 
pictures on my desk to really mess with our minds after we got 
here.  Did you ever make him angry?  You had to have done 
something - think!  Did you steal his girlfriend?  Run over his 
dog?  Maybe he thinks the best way to get to you is through me.  
After all, you did say all those flattering things about me to 
him.  He knows you like me, right?" 

"But that doesn't make sense.  Josh isn't like that."

"You're saying I didn't see what I'm telling you I saw?"

I sigh.  "I don't know.  Maybe you were mistaken?"

"Fine."  She shakes her head in disgust.  "Don't believe me."

"Lois, it's not that I don't believe you..."

"Whatever, Clark.  Forget it."  She heads back up the hill.  I 
sigh as I watch her walk away.  It would have been nice if she'd 
been happier I was still alive for just a little bit longer.   

<><><>

Doc tells us all to call it an early day.  He thinks the cabin is 
too unstable to sort through right now.  I breathe a sigh of 
relief that the box will stay safely hidden under the rubble.  
Marty, Josh and Doc start up the trail towards the house.  I hang 
back, hoping for a chance to retrieve the box but Lois stays with 
me. 

"Look," she says, pointing at the end of the thick center beam 
where it juts out from the tangled mass of wood.  "See the end 
there?  See how it's a clean break?  Old wood should splinter.  
It doesn't break clean." 

She's right.  It doesn't look like an accidental break at all.  
"We were both working on the scaffolding, Lois.  Just because you 
saw Josh messing with it doesn't mean he was trying to kill me." 

"What about Marty?" she asks.  "He had all the time in the world 
to tamper with that beam since he sleeps down here at night." 

"But he wasn't here last night.  He slept at the house because of 
the storm." 

"He could have done it the night before."  Lois never lets a 
theory go until a better one comes along. 

"Then why didn't it blow down in the storm?"

She frowns.  "I don't know.  Maybe he got up early this morning 
to do it?" 

"But why?  And if you are the target, why weren't you sent into 
the cabin on some pretext?  Josh was going to go in, not me.  How 
could he be sure I'd offer to go instead?" 

Lois falls silent, staring out at the lake as she nervously chews 
at her lower lip.  I glance at where the box is hidden.  What's 
inside it?  Why does it call to me?  It's torture having to wait 
until later to hold it again. 

"Hey, Lois!" Emily yells from the top of the hill.  We both turn 
to look at her.  "It's your night for dinner!" 

Lois sighs and then pats my arm as she moves past me.  "In 
another half hour you're going to wish you were still under that 
pile of wood." 

I give her a smile but don't walk with her.  She stops and turns 
back.  "Aren't you coming?" 

"In a minute.  I just want... to be alone for a few minutes."

She gives me a sympathetic nod and then trudges back up the hill. 
  

I wait until she disappears into the trees before I lower my 
glasses and check that I'm alone.  No one is around.  I go back 
over to where the box is, pulling the foundation stones away so 
that I can reach inside.  My skin begins to tingle even before I 
touch it.  In better light I can see that the Kryptonian writing 
seems to be a border.  The box is lightweight and a soft blue 
color reminiscent of the spacecraft I was sent to Earth in.  Is 
it the same type of metal?   

"What are you?" I breathe.  It doesn't answer.

I turn the box over and over, looking at each side of it, but it 
doesn't do anything besides emit a soft hum.  I still can't 
distinguish where, or even if, the box opens.  I shake it gently 
but I don't hear anything.   

Think, Clark.  Why does it hum when you touch it?  The globe does 
that too.  But it didn't at first, I realize with a start.  The 
globe was attuned to me, but it took months before it finally 
spoke to me.  Would a Kryptonian object that wasn't attuned to me 
ever talk?   

It wants to, I realize.  It's trying right now.  Would it hum for 
anyone who touched it or do they have to be from Krypton?  Now 
there's a conversation I want to have.  "Hey, Lois, will you just 
touch this strange object I found and tell me if you feel 
anything...?" 

I hear footsteps on the bridge over the creek.  Someone is coming 
towards the cabin.  For a split second I hesitate.  I don't want 
to put the box back.  I hurry into the trees near the lake's 
shore.  Marty calls out my name.  I stay hidden, waiting to see 
what he does.  He looks around curiously, shouting my name a few 
more times.  Then he shrugs and kicks at the pile of rocks I 
dislodged from the cabin's foundation.  He yells my name one more 
time before he turns and heads back towards the house. 

I clutch the box close to my chest and try to decide what I 
should do.  Leave it in the trees?  But that would be risking 
that someone else might find it.  Take it back to my room?  Is it 
really safe there?  Someone has already been in my room to leave 
that picture.  I can't take it back to Metropolis.  It's not 
possible to just disappear at random as easily out here.  Then 
again, I'm all ready in trouble - how am I going to explain not 
being at the dig site when Marty came back? 

I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.  I move at super-speed 
through the trees towards the house.  I wait, listening to hear 
where everyone is.  Marty opens the back door and says, "I can't 
find him." 

"What do you mean you can't find him?" Lois asks.

"I mean, there was no one down there and he didn't answer when I 
called for him." 

"Maybe he took a walk?" Emily suggests.  "I'm sure he was pretty 
rattled by the cabin falling on him.  God knows I would be." 

I peek at the house.  Emily, Lois and Marty are in the kitchen.  
There's no sign of Josh or Doc, but the truck is missing.  It's 
now or never.  I rush around to the front of the house, elevate 
to my bedroom window and slip inside.  I quietly pull my suitcase 
out from under the bed.  I rip out the liner of the suitcase and 
nestle the box between the two rods for its telescoping handle.  
Then I adjust the liner back into place.  It's crude, but it will 
do for tonight.  I click the security lock shut and scramble the 
combination before shoving the suitcase back under the bed. 

I check again, the three of them are still in the kitchen, 
arguing about where I might have gone.  I leave through the 
window and land on the front porch.  I take one quick breath to 
steady myself and walk inside.  As I come through the doorway 
into the kitchen they all turn to stare at me. 

"Where the hell have you been?" Lois asks.

"For a walk.  I... came back through the trees.  Why?"
 
"We've only been looking for you for...  How am I supposed to 
know that you aren't confused and dizzy and wandering around 
somewhere?  That happens, you know.  People get a concussion and 
fall into water or mine shafts all the time." 

"I don't think there are any mine shafts around here," Emily says 
with a quick smile in my direction. 

"That's not the point!  The point is we shouldn't have left a 
person with a possible head injury, oh, never mind. You're here 
now." 

"What are we eating?" I ask.

"Whatever Josh and Doc bring back."  Marty grins.  "Lois said 
she'd buy." 

I look over at Lois and she flashes me a warning glare.  "Don't 
say it.  You could still die today, Clark," she cautions me. 

<><><>

After dinner I head back to my room, feeling like an Argonaut 
lured in by a siren's song.  I'm just about to pull the suitcase 
out from under the bed when Lois knocks on my door. 

"Clark?"

Damn.  "Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

I can't think of a single reason why not.  I couldn't possibly 
tell her I was undressed and have her believe me.   

"Sure."  I unlock the door and open it.

She doesn't come in.  "How are you feeling?"

"Good."

She tilts her head and assesses me.  Then she quietly asks, "Are 
you up for a swim tonight?" 

Now I'm truly torn.  Which siren song do I follow?  The box under 
the bed?  Or wet half-naked Lois?  I think about the kiss we 
shared last night.  "Give me a minute," I tell her.  "I'll meet 
you on the back porch." 

"Okay," she gives me a shy smile.  "One minute."

As soon as she starts down the stairs I pull the suitcase from 
beneath the bed and recheck the lock.  Still on, still secure.  I 
push the suitcase back and head downstairs. 

<><><>

Tonight I leave my glasses on.  I've tempted fate more than 
enough.  As we float on our backs looking up at the stars I find 
myself distracted, wondering about the box and what it might 
contain.  Maybe swimming wasn't the best idea tonight.  Maybe I 
should find a way to go back early...  I touch her arm lightly 
and tell her I'm heading back to shore. 

I'm wading through chest-deep water when she splashes me from 
behind and tries to start a water fight.  I keep moving, feeling 
bad that I'm ignoring her, especially when she's in such a 
playful mood. 

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"I'm fine."

"You're not feeling dizzy or sick, are you?"

"I don't have a concussion, Lois."

"How can you be sure?"  She moves in front of me and I stop, 
still waist-deep in the water.  "You really ought to get checked 
out." 

"Lois..."

"Seriously, Clark.  You're worrying me.  You seem listless 
tonight." 

"I'm just tired."

"You know you shouldn't sleep for 24 hours after a head injury."

"I don't have a head injury."

"Well, if you're confused, you'd hardly be the best judge, would 
you?"  She reaches up and runs her fingers into my hair, pressing 
her fingertips down gently.  "Does this hurt?" 

"No."  Hurt is exact opposite of how it feels.

"I was so worried... when the cabin collapsed on you."

"I know.  Really, I'm okay."  

Why did Lucas hide the box?  There has to be something inside 
it. 

Lois' hands drop to my left shoulder and she squeezes it gently.  
"How about here?  Does this hurt?" 

"No, that feels okay."

Both her hands travel down my left arm.  "What about your arm?  
That's okay?" 

"Yeah."  On second thought, the box will still be there.  Lois is 
here now.   

The water eddies between us as she moves to stand behind me.  
"Hmm.  What about here?" she asks, drawing her fingers across my 
back.  My mental 'Yellow Pages' flips to "Getting Some" and the 
box fades dramatically in importance. 

"That's okay, too."

She lets out a small, nervous laugh.  "Just okay?"

What does she want me to say?  All higher brain function is 
rapidly deserting me.  I let out a little gasp as she places a 
feather-light kiss on my shoulder blade.   

"How about that?  Was that okay?" she asks quietly.

"Yeah.  That was more than okay."

She kisses the center of my back and then her arms slide around 
me from behind.  Her cheek rests against my shoulder blade and 
she sighs.  I take her hands in mine, threading my fingers with 
hers. 

"I was so worried," she whispers.

"It's over now, and I'm fine."  I lift her right hand and press a 
kiss in her palm.  "We're here, together.  Don't think about what 
didn't happen." 

"Remember last night when I told you I only took risks because 
Superman is always around to save me?" 

"Yes."

"Today, when the cabin collapsed, I kept hoping that he was going 
to fly in and save you."  She kisses my back again.  "But he 
didn't.  We're on our own out here, Clark.  Promise me you won't 
do anything that reckless again." 

"I..." I chicken out.  "I promise."

She leaves a trail of soft kisses across my back as she works her 
way to my right shoulder.  "How about this side?" 

"It's okay," I answer and bend my head to kiss her.  She kisses 
me back, her arms wrapping around my neck.   

As the kiss deepens she presses against me.  The water laps at us 
softly.  She trembles as I smooth my hand down her back and then 
to her waist.  Her hands leave my shoulders and caress across my 
chest.  Is that a hint?   I nudge my hand a little higher.  Give 
me a sign, Lois.  Something, anything.   

She's so soft, the kiss so tender and yielding, that I feel 
daring.  I lightly trace my thumb just beneath her breast.  Lois 
quivers, her mouth coming loose from mine. 

"Oh," she whispers.

I freeze, moving my hand back to her waist.  "Sorry," I murmur.  
 

"Don't apologize."  She nibbles at my lower lip.  "I wasn't 
asking you to stop." 

There's a pounding in my ears that matches the throbbing 
elsewhere in my body.  "So this is okay?" 

"Oh yeah.  It's more than okay."  Lois lets out a nervous laugh 
and kisses my shoulder again.  I bend down, kissing along the 
edge of her bra before darting my tongue out to taste her skin.  
Lois tips her head back, her hands threading through my hair in 
encouragement.  I kiss my way back up her throat and find her 
lips again. 

"Oh my god, this is it, isn't it?"  She shivers in my arms and I 
attempt to pull her closer but she puts her hands flat on my 
chest to push me away.  I reluctantly let her go.  "Don't get me 
wrong, I want this.  I mean, I think I want this.  Do you want 
this?  What am I saying?  Of course you want this.  Don't you?  
You do want me, right? Oh god, this is embarrassing." 

"Lois, this doesn't have to be anything.  It's whatever you want 
it to be." 

"What do I want it to be?  What if I don't know?  What if... we 
just go back now?  I'm sorry." 

"Sorry?  For what?"

"For..." She lets out an embarrassed giggle.  "For leading you 
on." 

"You weren't leading me on," I assure her.  "Let's go back to the 
house." 

"Thanks," she says softly.  "I just don't think I'm ready..."

"You know what?"  I take her hand as we wade towards the shore.  
"I don't think I'm ready yet either." 

Taking that step will mean telling her.  And telling her... well, 
I'm not ready to do that.  Things are going so well between us.  
I don't want to ruin it. 

<><><>

It's nearly one o'clock before I'm certain that everyone is 
asleep.  I roll off the bed, pulling the suitcase out and taking 
the box from it.  It hums, but this time it also gives off a soft 
glow.  I trace the engraved symbols, wishing I could read them.  
Are they instructions?  Just for decoration?  Lucas' monogram? 

"I greet thee..." a garbled noise comes from the box, sounding 
like a cassette tape as the machine eats it. 

"Go on," I will the box to continue, but the glow fades and then 
dies.  The humming stops.  Disappointment floods through me.  
It's so unfair. 

"Come on... please," I whisper.  Nothing.  I set the box on the 
bed and sit down next to it.  I trace my finger over one of the 
symbols, then the next.  Suddenly the box begins to glow again.  
I run my finger over the etched outline again and the box floods 
the room with light. 

Lucas Peregrine's form emerges from the light.  "I greet thee 
thrice," he says, raising his hand.  Even though I know he can't 
see me, I raise my hand in return.   

"I am Lu-Kess, son of Krypton.  I have fled my planet, accused of 
a crime I did not commit.  I have left my family so they will not 
have to share in my shame.  If you find this message, please tell 
my family that I did this for them.  I have left these memories 
for my wife.  Please see that she or my son receive them." 

The light fades and Lucas disappears.  I'm still sitting there in 
open-mouthed wonder when the box springs open. 

<><><>

There's a soft green glow coming from inside the box.  Surely 
Lucas wouldn't be keeping Kryptonite?  I don't feel sick so I 
reach inside and pull out a long, thin translucent strip of 
something that looks like plastic but feels like metal.  Yet it's 
far too pliable to be metallic.   

< "I have left these memories for my wife.">

Maybe it's a recording?  Is this the Kryptonian version of a home 
movie?  But how do I play it?  I set the film back into the box 
and press on the symbols at random.  Nothing happens.  Gosh 
thanks, Lucas.  You should have left the VCR, too. 

And then I realize that maybe I do have one.  Not here, but at 
home.  Could the globe play the message?  All those messages that 
Jor-El left me, what if those were recorded on something similar? 
 I close the box and fly out the window towards home. 

A few minutes later I settle into my old treehouse.  The globe 
glows at my touch as if in greeting.  I open the box and pull the 
film out.  How do I make it play?  There are no obvious openings 
on the globe.  Then again, there aren't any obvious openings on 
the box and yet it opens.  I'm touching the film to the globe at 
random when the globe starts to hum and alters to show its map of 
Krypton.  The film is sucked into the globe with a soft "pfffft" 
sound. 

I wait but nothing happens.  The globe goes dark again.  I close 
my eyes in frustration.  Maybe it needs to process the film 
first?  Or maybe it's really old?  What if the globe isn't 
compatible with whatever Lucas used to record it?  What do I do 
now?  I wait a few more minutes, but it looks like the show is 
over for the night.  I leave Lucas' box in the treehouse and take 
the globe with me back to Doc's house. 

<><><>

The next morning I come out of my room at the same time as Lois.  
She doesn't look over at me as she hurries to get down the stairs 
before I can say anything. 

"Good morning, Lois!" I lean over the rail to watch her 
descending the stairs. 

"Good morning," she says breathlessly and then disappears around 
the corner into the kitchen.  I grin.  She's embarrassed about 
last night.   

As I come into the kitchen Lois leaves through the back door, 
moving down the path towards the dig site at almost a jog.  Is 
she going to avoid me all day?   

Josh and Emily look at me curiously.

"Lois not talking to you?" Josh asks.

I shrug and pour myself a bowl of cereal.

"Good morning, children!" Marty says as he comes in back door.  
"How are we all this fine morning?" 

Emily lets out a disgusted sigh.  Josh smiles at Marty.  "There 
must be a re-enactment in your future.  Which one is it?" 

"The Battle of Lewis Ridge!"

"That's not until tomorrow," Emily grouses.

"True, but I'm leaving this morning to drive out there.  I will 
have to live without the pleasure of your company for the next 
few days." 

"And yet, somehow, I think we'll survive," Emily mutters.

"Ah, sweet Emily, I'll miss you most of all."  He sits down next 
to her and bats his eyes at her.  "Promise me you won't find 
anything significant until I get back." 

"Just go play dead already, will you?"  Her voice is gruff but 
she's fighting a smile. 

Marty stands up and salutes us all.  Josh returns the salute and 
Marty practically skips out of the kitchen.  Josh shakes his head 
in amusement.  "He's always so giddy when he leaves for a 
re-enactment." 

"And such an idiot when he returns," Emily finishes.

By the time the three of us finish breakfast and walk down to the 
dig site, Lois and Doc have laid down boards to cover the 
vestiges of mud still left.  Lois has settled in and is gamely 
trowling dirt into a bucket.  I smile at her and she blushes, 
looking away quickly.  Emily takes Doc's place in the trench and 
he goes into the tent to make entries in the log. 

Josh and I work at removing the debris from the cabin.  After a 
couple of hours we've cleared everything away but the center roof 
beam.  Josh looks at the heavy wooden beam and then at me.  
"You're a walking miracle," he tells me. 

"Doc!" Emily yells suddenly.  "Doc, come look!  I think we found 
him!" 

Doc moves into the trench, shooing Lois and Emily back.  Josh and 
I kneel on the edge and watch from above.  Doc takes a paintbrush 
and softly cleans the area Emily was working.  It looks like a 
light brown stone to me.  Doc teases a little more soil away.   

Emily twists her hands in excitement.  "Is it him?"

"Get the camera," Doc tells her.  Emily runs to the tent, grabs 
the camera and comes back into the trench.  Doc leans back and 
she takes a picture.  Doc asks for a small trowel and he scrapes 
away more dirt, revealing more and more of the stone.  There 
seems to be a large hole in the stone and I realize with a jolt 
that it's the eye socket of a skull. 

"Hello, Lu-Kess," I whisper.

<><><>

Emily tells us that's it's going to be an all-day project just to 
expose the skull.  For once I understand perfectly Lois' lack of 
patience.  I'm torn between watching Doc slowly reveal Lucas and 
the urge to go check the globe and see if it's ready to show me 
anything.  I tell Josh that I'm going for a walk.  He waves me 
away distractedly, intent on watching Doc. 

I go back to my room and get the globe.  It doesn't hum or light 
up but I have a rising sense of anticipation.  Even though the 
day is warm, I put on my jacket so that I can hide the globe in 
the pocket.  I walk in the opposite direction of the dig, 
following the road down the hill to the bridge before ducking 
into the trees.  I sit for a few seconds, concentrating on my 
surroundings.  No one seems to be nearby. 

I pull the globe from my pocket and wait.  After half a minute it 
hums and changes to show me Krypton.  Then I see Lucas, running 
down a darkened hallway.  "I was set up by the House of Zod," he 
intones.  I cannot stay and be imprisoned for a crime I did not 
commit."  The view changes as Lucas enters a large room.  He runs 
along a row of spacecraft before hurriedly climbing into one near 
the end.  "I have looked through the data compiled by our 
exploratory probes.  It is a fair distance but I believe it is 
possible.  All the research I have done into deep space 
exploration will now be tested to its limits.  I set the 
coordinates and bid farewell to my home."  The craft leaves the 
hanger and, second later, I see Krypton growing smaller over 
Lucas' shoulder as he watches out a window. 

"There was a part of me that hoped I would never awaken from the 
necessary suspension.  That I might float forever unaware of what 
I have given up.  But I have beaten the odds and arrived safely 
on the planet called Earth."  I see the image of the craft 
approaching Earth and then streaking across the sky before 
landing in the same meadow where Lucas built his cabin.   

"Its atmosphere is similar to Krypton and its people are like 
ours.  The radiation from its sun is different and I have found 
myself far more powerful here than I ever was on Krypton.  They 
say our sun will someday destroy Krypton.  I pray my family may 
find a way to avoid that fate.  When they realize I am gone, 
surely they may try and join me?" 

The view of the meadow remains but the cabin has appeared, new 
and sturdy.  I see Lucas walking down towards the lake on the 
same path that now leads to the pier.  "Years have passed and I 
am accepted as one of them.  But I am not, a distinction that I 
try to remember.  Only one here has touched my heart.  The son of 
my neighbor; young Seth.  He reminds me of our son.  What have 
you become, Kal-Kess?  Do you look with shame upon your father?  
Or has my innocence been discovered in the intervening years?" 

I see Lucas sinking his spacecraft in the center of the lake.  "I 
only know I must not return.  I am here now.  This must be my 
home.  What becomes of me no longer matters.  My only regret is 
that no honors or tributes will be given upon my death.  I will 
have remained a stranger.  Only Seth will grieve my passing.  
There will be no one to tend my grave." 

I feel ashamed of my own interest in disturbing his grave.  
Lucas' gray eyes go soft and his shoulders sag just a little. 

"My days are spent in the remembrance of you, dearest Kacie.  I 
remember your hesitation in believing me to be your true mate; 
how I had to woo you so carefully.  I knew from the first our 
connection was real.  I feel it still, a small invisible thread 
that binds me to you.  My only comfort is that you may feel it, 
too.  Know that I did this for you and for our son.  Know that I 
still live.  I live for you." 

That's it, I realize, that's what he was thinking about in his 
picture.  His eyes have the same haunted expression.  He was 
thinking of Kacie. 

The globe fades and Lucas disappears.  I close my eyes for a 
moment, overcome with emotion for this man.  Was he ever proven 
innocent?  Did Kacie really know what became of him or did she 
believe he simply vanished?  I tuck the globe into my jacket 
pocket and return to the road. 

The truck appears over the rise, its speed increasing as it comes 
down the hill.  Why is Lois driving the truck?  And why would she 
be so foolish as to try and take the corner before the bridge 
like Emily did?  I hear a stomping noise and realize that she is 
trying to slow the truck down but the brakes are gone.  I look 
around and realize I only have a few seconds before she reaches 
the bridge.  There's no way I could run and change.  It would be 
far too suspicious that Superman was all the way out here - 
again. 

I stand in the road and wave at her to steer towards the trees.

"Clark!  Move!  I don't have brakes!"  She leans on the horn as 
she hurtles towards me.  But my gambit works, she steers to the 
left to avoid me.  As the truck is about to hit the trees I move, 
letting the truck's right bumper strike me first to absorb the 
majority of the impact so that when it hits the trees it's going 
much slower.  As soon as it stops I throw myself to the side, 
coming to rest on the dusty road. 

"Clark!"  The truck's door flies open and Lois jumps out, 
stumbling on the uneven ground as she races toward me.  I sit up 
and pretend to wince.  "Clark, are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I think so," I reassure her.  "I think I just got the wind 
knocked out of me." 

"What did you think you were doing, jumping in front of the truck 
like that?"  She looks both angry and tearful.   

"I wasn't in front of the truck.  I was running over to help you 
and it just kind of glanced past me." 

"Help me?  Help me how?  What were you going to do?  Throw 
yourself in front of the truck to stop it?" 

"No, I just wanted to be there after you hit the trees, in case 
you needed help." 

"You're lucky you're still alive."  She looks over at the truck 
and I follow her gaze.  There's a huge dent on the right side of 
the grill - exactly where the truck hit me.  All I can do is hope 
she doesn't think too hard about it.  Or maybe I'm hoping she 
*will* think too hard about it.   

"Stay here," she tells me.  "I'm going to go get help."

"No, Lois, I think I'm okay.  I can walk."  I prove it by 
standing up.  Lois moves close to my side, putting both her arms 
around my waist to support me.  Any protest I was about to make 
is lost at the sensation of her arms around me. 

"Just take it slow," she cautions me.

"I'm fine, really."

"And I'm serious.  I can't believe that didn't kill you."

In the end I give in and allow her to 'walk' me back to the 
house.  There are far worse ways to spend the afternoon. 

<><><>

Lois insists that I sit down at the kitchen table once we reach 
the house.  No amount of protesting will convince her that I'm 
fine.  I sit and she leaves to go down to the dig site.  As soon 
as she crosses the bridge I rush upstairs and tuck the globe back 
into its hiding place.  I'm sitting at the table when Lois 
returns with Emily. 

"Lois said you had an accident?"  Emily looks to me for 
confirmation. 

"Actually, Lois had the accident.  I just got a little bump as 
the truck went past me." 

Emily looks at both of us as if she's trying to decide why we're 
making up this story.  "Lois said the truck hit you?" 

"How could I have walked back to the house if the truck hit me?  
You hit the trees, Lois, not me." 

Emily looks at Lois.  Lois frowns.  "I'm telling you, I hit him 
with the truck." 

"Were you aiming for him?" Emily asks with a smile.  I laugh.  
Lois doesn't. 

"No, of course not," Lois tells her icily.  I laugh again and she 
glares at me.  "I wasn't!" 

"How are things going down at the dig site?" I ask, trying to 
change the subject. 

"We almost have the entire skull exposed," Emily says.  "I think 
it will be a couple of days, but we should be able to recover the 
entire skeleton." 

"Is there anything we can do to help?" I ask.

"Yeah, if you're up to it.  We're going to dig down at the end of 
the trench.  We'll go faster since we'll just save each bucket 
and process it later.  Lois, is the truck totaled or can you 
still go into town to get more buckets?" 

Lois shakes her head.  "I think the brakes went out.  I was 
stomping on them but it didn't make any difference." 

Emily nods glumly.  "Okay, we'll have Josh look at the truck.  
He's our mechanic.  We'll just make do with the buckets we all 
ready have." 

<><><>

By dusk we've managed to remove just over two feet of topsoil 
from Lucas' grave.  Doc calls a stop to our excavation since 
we're quickly losing the light.  I'm walking behind Lois as we 
head back to the house.  She slows down as we come close to the 
bridge.  Then she bends down to play with her shoelace.  As I go 
to pass her she touches my leg to stop me. 

"Clark, wait," she says in a low tone.

"What is it?"

"I was talking to Emily.  She went with Josh to bring the truck 
back up the hill.  Someone cut the brake line.  It wasn't an 
accident." 

I had all ready guessed as much.  "That's two accidents in as 
many days," I muse.  "Kinda makes you want to not get out of bed 
tomorrow, doesn't it?" 

"Are you kidding?  Do you realize that we're uncovering 
definitive proof that Superman isn't the only alien to come 
here?"  She straightens back up and gives me an incredulous 
look. 

"Another visitor from a strange planet?"

"Sure, make jokes.  I'm serious.  You can stay in bed all day if 
you want, but I'll be helping out here."  She swats at an insect 
in irritation. 

"Lois, I'm not making jokes.  I'm taking your safety very 
seriously here." 

"My safety?  You're the one who was nearly killed twice.  Isn't 
there something wrong with this picture?  If I'm the target, why 
are you the one in constant danger?" 

"I told you I wouldn't let anyone hurt you." I know I'm needling 
her, but it seems worth the trouble. 

"I'm serious, Clark.  There's something wrong about this whole 
setup." 

"You've just now reached that conclusion?  There was nothing 
wrong with someone stalking you all the way here?  You were the 
one driving the truck when it crashed." 

"You know what it is?  It's too random.  There was no way to be 
sure that you would go in the cabin yesterday or that I would be 
driving the truck today." 

"So you're saying someone here is setting traps without regard 
for who gets caught in them?" 

"Not someone - Josh.  The brake line was cut.  Emily said Josh is 
their mechanic out here.  And I did see him push on the wall when 
you were inside the cabin." 

"But why?"

"Have you given any thought to the idea that he has it in for 
you?" 

"No," I tell her emphatically, taking her elbow to urge her back 
to the house.  "Josh doesn't have it in for me.  We're friends, 
Lois.  Friends don't try to kill each other." 

"Don't be so sure.  We're friends and I frequently want to kill 
you." 

"Is that all?" I ask before I can think better of it.

"Is that all, what?"

"Is that all you want to do to me?  Kill me?"  It's a gamble, but 
maybe it will pay off. 

"Are you suggesting I want to do something to else to you?"  She 
stops walking, her hands on her hips. 

My lips twitch as I fight a smile.  "You tell me."

"Is this about last night?  It is, isn't it?  See, this is why I 
backed off.  It's a bad idea." 

"What's a bad idea?"

"You and me, working together and... being together.  It won't 
end well." 

I want to tease her about how she could possibly know that for 
certain without trying.  I stop myself because levity is only 
going to push her away.  "Lois," I tilt her chin up to look at 
me.  "Why does it have to end?  If it's something we both want, 
then it can work.  I want this to work.  Do you?" 

Her eyes search mine for a long moment.  I don't look away, 
hoping she will realize just how much this means to me. 

"Take me swimming again tonight, Clark," she whispers.

<><><>

Tonight we don't dive in from the pier.  My heart is beating fast 
as I wonder if she feels the same undercurrent to every movement 
made as I do.  My senses feel heightened, keying in on the 
whisper of her clothes as she removes them and the little gasp 
she makes when she first enters the water.   

We wade in, side by side.  We're deep enough that Lois has 
started to swim and I'm about to when her hand reaches out to 
touch my arm.  "Clark?"  Her fingers close over my wrist and I 
pull my arm in so that she glides nearer to me. 

"Yes?"

"Do you think you'll kiss me tonight?"

"I'd say your chances are pretty good, why?"  I move us a few 
steps closer to shore so that she can touch the bottom. 

"Because..." She draws even closer, putting her arms around my 
neck.  "I really want you to." 

"You could kiss me; I wouldn't be offended."   

"It's not that."  I can hear the smile in her voice.  "I just 
don't want you to think I'm being forward." 

"You?  Forward?  You're the shyest person I know."

She slaps my shoulder.  "Watch it, Kent."

"Ow!"  I decide to tease her.  "Be careful wit