Rebuilding Superman
By Terry Leatherwood <t_leatherwood@peoplepc.com>
Rated: PG13
Submitted: June, 2007


Preface to "Rebuilding Superman"

My first attempt at a long Lois and Clark piece resulted in a
story entitled "The Maysonry Of Life," which (should you wish to
peruse it) is located at
http://www.lcfanfic.com/stories/2004/maysonry.txt. It was an
attempt to explore what might have happened to Lois and Clark
and their relationship if Lois's reaction to Clark's disavowal
of his love for her at the end of season one was not stunned
silence but expressively vituperative and monumentally
insulting.

With the twin luxuries of time and hindsight, I can see its
several flaws, but I'm still a little proud of it, like one
would be of one's show dog which wins a ribbon despite having
wet on the judge's leg. If you haven't read it, this is your
opportunity to hop over there and take it in, warts and all,
because this piece is a direct sequel to it. If you'd prefer to
stay with this story, however, there is a brief summary at the
end of this post.

My original intent with "Maysonry" was to present a stand-alone
story in which Clark and Lois followed a different path to
arrive at their destiny together, and when I wrote the final
scene, I thought that was all there was to it.

Things are not always as they seem. Several readers took the
time to write to me and let me know how much they enjoyed the
story, but they also wanted to know the rest of it. More than
one reader was particularly adamant that more must be told. Both
the number and the intensity of the responses surprised me,
because I thought I had written all there was to tell.

One of my muses (their names are Psychotropoia, the muse of
weird imaginings, and Polyskitzodia, the muse of multiple and
confusing timelines) gently nudged me last year and muttered
something about writing the second half of the story. I
responded, in a rather off-hand manner, that I wasn't interested
because there wasn't any more to tell. The other muse became
most indignant and insisted that yes, there was more to the
story, here's the basic outline, now go do something intelligent
with it, you big doofus.

(There ought to be some kind of union rule preventing muses from
behaving like that. And my muses aren't on the list of the nine
classic Greek muses. I think they're a little bit outside the
box - or maybe outside this dimension altogether - but don't
tell them I said that. They'll just get mad and give me a really
difficult story to work on. Oops. Too late!)

Anyway, that "something" the muse inspired within me (which I
hope is intelligent) is the piece you're starting now.
"Maysonry" was submitted directly to the archive, because at the
time I didn't know about this site, so I'm sure many of you
haven't read it before. So I'm presenting "Rebuilding Superman"
to resolve some of the conflicts and open situations from the
first story, and to allow you, the gentle readers, to make
constructive suggestions and comments. I hope it makes sense to
you, both from a dramatic perspective and from the Lois/Clark
relationship perspective. To give a timeline perspective, the
events described in "Maysonry" would overlay everything
following Luthor's last flight from his penthouse balcony, and
"Rebuilding Superman" would take place in the beginning of
Season Six (had there been one).

You will find no WHAMs in the following story, no sex, and
little violence. But it is a serious piece which explores the
legal ramifications of what might happen if Superman were to
lose both his temper and his self-control to the point of
causing someone's death (in this case, Intergang's evil leader,
Bill Church). How would the legal system respond to such an
occurrence? How would Clark's friends and loved ones respond to
Superman? How would Clark deal with it? Most importantly, I
think, how would the public respond, and how might Clark feel
about being Superman? And since it's a Lois and Clark story, it
also deals with the intense effect this struggle has on our
favorite couple's relationship. Suffice to say there is a
significant impact.

I want to take this opportunity to thank my Beta readers Chris
(who had to drop out due to real life pressures but made some
excellent suggestions) and Tricia (who persevered through many
of her own personal stresses). If you like this, credit them,
and if not, blame me. After all, it was my muses' idea.

I'm sure you'll let me know what you think. The FOLCs on this
site aren't known for being bashful (unless that also means
"full of bashing"). If such is my fate, well, it won't be the
first time.

Enjoy. Please.

**--Warning!--**--Warning!--**--Warning-- **-- Warning!--**

For those who might wish to dive directly into "Rebuilding
Superman," I will briefly recap "The Maysonry of Life." It
should go without saying that much of the emotional impact of
the story is missing in this summary.


SPOILER ALERT! - SPOILER ALERT! - SPOILER ALERT!
SPOILER ALERT! - SPOILER ALERT! - SPOILER ALERT!
SPOILER ALERT! - SPOILER ALERT! - SPOILER ALERT!
SPOILER ALERT! - SPOILER ALERT! - SPOILER ALERT!


**--Warning!--**--Warning!--**--Warning-- **-- Warning!--**

Following the interrupted Lex/Lois wedding at the end of Season
1, Clark recants his declaration of love for Lois. Feeling
completely betrayed and totally blindsided, Lois loses every
vestige of her temper and self-control and furiously insults
Clark in the worst ways possible. She flees to the Planet, but
because the paper isn't officially open yet, no one is there
except Cat Grant, who is cleaning out her desk because her
contract was not renewed.

Lois, feeling very alone, invites Cat to lunch, where they mend
their relationship and begin a friendship. They share dinner at
Lois's place, talk about men in general and Clark specifically.
Catharine (her new name celebrates the new stage in her life)
goes to Cincinnati to start her new job as a news reporter at a
rock-and-roll radio station. Clark refuses to hear Lois's
apology, breaks up the team of Lane and Kent, and has Perry move
their desks as far apart on the news floor as possible.

Martha calls Lois to see if she can help to mend the
relationship between Lois and Clark. Lois confesses her perfidy
(and the circumstances) and Martha accepts her apology. They
make plans to see each other the next time the Kents come to
Metropolis.

Despite her repeated attempts to reconcile them, Clark continues
to refuse to listen to Lois's apology. He won't let his parents
intercede, either. Lois notes that Superman also seems out of
sorts. Lois meets a police officer named Clay Mooney and begins
a friendship with him, but she still loves Clark and is
frustrated because he won't let her fix the breach in their
relationship.

Independent of each other, Catharine (in Ohio) and Lois begin
investigating Intergang. They combine their information and
learn that other investigations are also in progress. Clark and
Lois both write up a press conference where Superman declines a
commission in the Metropolis police force and is deliberately
rude to one of the Mayor's aides when the aid quietly threatens
him with less official cooperation. Clark and Lois get into
another argument about the coverage of this event, since Lois's
piece was negative and Clark's was positive.

Several weeks later, Lois finds out that Clark is dating ADA
Mayson Drake. Mayson meets Lois and they immediately rub each
other the wrong way. Clark comes to Lois's desk to defend Mayson
to Lois. They argue again and Clark loses his temper. He grabs
Lois's desk and flips it over. Perry makes Lois take a walk and
talks to Clark. Before Lois leaves, she finds four finger
impressions in the underside of the edge of her metal desk which
could only have come from Superman's fingers. The realization
that Clark is Superman floors her.

She comes back from her walk and tells Perry that she and Clark
can't work together. Perry tells her that Clark has volunteered
to work in the Planet's overseas bureau, but Lois silently
decides that Metropolis needs Superman more than she needs the
Planet. So she submits her two weeks' notice and tells him she
plans to accept an offer to be the editor of the Metropolis
bureau of the Washington Standard.

After she leaves Perry's office, she visits Clark and confirms
her deductions. Instead of thanking her for keeping the secret,
Clark gets snotty and she tells him she hopes he and Mayson are
happy together. Then she leaves.

Mayson pushes Lois for more data on Intergang, but Lois holds
back because she suspects Mayson is leaking info to Intergang.
She steals Mayson's pager, then returns it, along with an
apology. Mayson uses the incident as leverage to get Catharine's
name out of Lois, and she also asks about Clark's constant
disappearances. Given Mayson's lack of enthusiasm for Superman,
Lois is tempted to tell her the secret to break them up, but she
refrains. Lois and Mayson still don't like each other, but they
are learning to respect each other.

Lois and Clay are seeing each other, as friends, and Lois tells
Clay that she's leaving the Planet and explains her reasons. He
understands and offers to be her close friend, which overture
Lois gladly accepts.

On Lois's last day, the staff gives her a going-away party. She
checks out the cards she was given and doesn't find Clark's
name. She cautiously asks him about it and he apologizes for not
writing anything, but no one asked him to, apparently because
their co-workers assumed that he still hated Lois. She tells him
that it wasn't her doing and apologizes for the oversight. They
smile at each other (for the first time in almost a year) and
wish each other good luck. A fragile truce is finally
established between them.

Lois meets her staff of reporters at the Standard and learns
that her predecessor was a political animal who didn't care a
fig for the people in his employ. In her first week, she defends
a young Vietnamese woman named Laura Nyguen (pronounced "win"
for us language-challenged Americans) from an over-bearing
actuary, then pairs her with veteran reporter Ron Dombrowski for
a feature on Metropolis's Little Saigon population. They work
well together and the story is excellent. Another of her
reporters tells her that there's an Intergang spy in the
newsroom, but he doesn't know who it is.

Lois and Catharine continue to share both personal information
and the Intergang investigation, mostly through e-mails. One
evening, not long after Lois begins her new job, Mayson and
Clark, without realizing it, get a secluded booth in a
restaurant next to Lois, who's eating solo, and Lois overhears
Mayson tell Clark that she loves him. She also overhears Clark
tell Mayson that he needs to tell her something very important,
but it has to be private. Mayson tells Clark that she'll be in
Ohio for the next week, working on the culmination of the
multi-state Intergang investigation. He tells her they'll speak
when she returns, and maybe she'd like to meet his parents?
She's all in favor of both of those ideas. Clark and Mayson
leave without knowing Lois has heard almost everything.

Lois is devastated. She e-mails Catharine to commiserate.
Catharine sends back appropriate comfort words and asks about
Clay. Lois tells her that they're just friends and she's in love
with Clark.
 
The reporter who told Lois of the Intergang spy disappears, but
the other reporters tell her that he often goes underground for
several days and reappears with a great story. But he doesn't
show over the weekend. Catharine sends Lois information on the
impending move of law enforcement on Intergang, along with
information on the gang's leaders and a map of their underground
complex in Metropolis.

Lois gets a call on Tuesday from Laura asking to meet that
evening. Lois gets suspicious and types up all she knows about
the Intergang connection to the Standard and leaves it with Ron
for safekeeping. When she arrives at the meeting site, Clark is
also there, waiting for Mayson to come out. He's going to tell
her The Secret. Despite her desire to reconnect with Clark, Lois
assures him that Mayson will understand. She also gives him the
map of Intergang's underground headquarters which Catharine sent
her, so he can "give it to Superman." He confirms that the
Planet has pretty much the same information on Intergang that
the Standard does.

Then Laura steps out of the shadows and points a semi-automatic
pistol at Clark and Lois. She tells them she's the Intergang
spy, that she killed the reporter who was getting too close, and
that she's glad both of them are there to see the show.

Clark and Lois realize at the same moment what she's talking
about. Clark turns to warn Mayson about the bomb. Laura shoots
him in the back, he spins into Superman, and Lois takes
advantage of Laura's surprise to attack her. As they struggle
for the gun, it goes off and kills Laura. The recoiling pistol
slide cuts Lois on the chin and breaks two of her fingers.

While Lois and Laura struggle, the bomb goes off and kills
Mayson instantly. Lois comes over to check on Mayson, and Clark
stands up and screams in fury and frustration, then leaves. Lois
later finds out that Superman burst into Intergang's bunker,
tore Bill Church's heart out of his chest and killed him, then
tracked down all the other leaders on the video conference at
the time and took them to various law enforcement agencies. A
surveillance video record of the entire incident ends up in the
hands of the police. Superman's actions break Intergang as a
crime syndicate and as a business.

An EMT tapes Lois's broken fingers and treats her chin. The
fingers heal fine, but she'll have a small scar on her chin for
the rest of her life.

Over fifty people in various locations were targeted for death
by Intergang on that same night, including Catharine Grant.
Catharine is seriously injured but eventually recovers.

Clark quits the Planet and moves back to Kansas. Lois refuses to
do a hatchet job on Superman to push the Standard's circulation
above the Planet's, and she is relieved of her duties. Perry
hires her back as his assistant at the Planet, because Franklin
Stern and others want him to run for the US Senate at the next
election, and he can't envision anyone else sitting in his chair
in his place.

Lois goes back to the Planet as Perry's protege. Three years
pass while Perry runs for and is elected to the Senate, Lois
succeeds him as editor, Catharine moves back to Metropolis and
the Planet and marries Clay, Clark hides in Smallville or
travels as a civilian, occasionally submitting travel or light
human-interest stories to the Planet and other publications. He
also begins writing romance novels for income and becomes a
best-selling author as the reclusive K.C. Jerome.

Superman is not charged with any crime and, officially, is
wanted only for questioning in Bill Church's death. Superman
has, by now, mostly disappeared, and only comes out to help at
serious natural disasters, and almost never in the continental
US. Lois has maintained a close relationship with the Kents (but
not with Clark) and comes out to the farm for a vacation, and
for the first time in a year she meets Clark face to face. It's
also the first time in three years they talk about something
other than work.

They pad around each other like porcupines with skin rashes for
a few days. He and Lois finally talk, and she tells him he needs
to resolve his legal situation in order to move on in his life.
Clark listens but doesn't make any plans. He tries to get close
to Lois but she pushes him away, saying that he can't just take
up where he left off before. He reluctantly agrees

A few days later, Clark leaves the dinner table to check on an
airliner that was having trouble maintaining altitude. It's the
first time he's made a Superman appearance in the US in three
years. He escorts the plane to its destination and returns to
the farmhouse. Jonathan and Martha are in the barn, ostensibly
discussing farming machinery. Lois and Clark confess to each
other that there's still a definite romantic spark there, but
there are things that must be addressed before they pursue a
relationship. Lois convinces Clark that he needs to turn himself
in. Clark asks her if that's a condition to their continuing
relationship. She says there aren't any conditions, that it's
two separate issues, that she loves him and wants to have a life
with him. Separate from that, he needs to face justice and clear
his name.

After a tearful conversation, they agree that Clark will turn
himself in to the authorities in Metropolis and accept whatever
fate is in store for him, and that Clark and Lois will begin a
new chapter in their lives together.

And that's where "The Maysonry Of Life" ends.

**--Terminate Warning--**--Terminate Warning--**



Rebuilding Superman

Chapter One

>>> Tuesday, August 20th

Lois snatched the phone from its cradle in the middle of the
second ring. "Daily Planet, this is Lois Lane, Managing Editor.
How may I help you today?"

"Hello, Lois. This is Superman."

"Superman! Oh! Yes! We've been expecting you to call back!
Please! Let me put you on speaker!"

"If you prefer."

"Thanks! Okay, it's me, Catharine Grant-Mooney, and Jim Olsen.
You remember them, don't you?"

"Of course. Hello, Catharine. How is Clay, now that he's made
sergeant?"

"Wow! You know about that?"

"Of course. And I also know it's a well-deserved promotion."

"Well, we're doing fine. Thanks for asking."

"Hey, Superman! It's me, Jimmy! Except I go by just Jim now. Can
you believe it? I'm assistant photo editor for the Planet! As of
the day before yesterday! It's on the masthead and everything!"

"Congratulations, Jim. I hadn't heard about that. Does the new
title mean you earn enough money to get married now?"

"Ha-ha! Sure, if Pam and I can ever agree on a date! It's
actually more an increase in my responsibility than it is a
salary bump."

"Keep at it, Jim. I'm sure you'll do an excellent job."

"Superman, it's Lois again. Could you tell us the reason for
your call?"

"Yes. I wanted to give this story to the Daily Planet. I'm
returning to Metropolis to surrender myself to the
authorities."

"Wowee! When? Can I get pictures? Do we - "

"Jim, slow down! Superman, this is Lois again. When do you
intend to return?"

"As soon as you can be ready. I'd like to do this with some
sympathetic faces around."

"Sure! Cath, can you contact the DA's office and set up an
appointment? Make sure you tell him this isn't going to be a
media circus but Superman wants us to be there with him."

"I'll take care of it. Hey, Big Blue, you heard from Clark Kent
lately?"

"Clark has been in Kansas with his parents, finishing his latest
novel."

"His latest novel? I didn't know Clark was writing novels now!
What's it called?"

"Sorry, Catharine, I can't tell you that. He's writing under a
pen name and he doesn't want it made public."

"Oh, sure, I understand. I'll see you soon, Superman. Unless
there's something else, Lois, I'll go call the DA now."

"Thanks, Cath. Jim, you make sure you have plenty of film."

"Film? Lois, this is the digital age! We don't need no stinkin'
film!"

"No digital cameras. You go low-tech on this one. I want
unadulterated negatives for these pics. You remember the
vice-president's love nest pictures you took last year?"

"Those were all legit! None of them were faked! Every picture
was real and the state high court agreed with us!"

"I know, Jim, but I don't want to go through that kind of legal
hassle again. No one's going to accuse us of faking these
pictures."

"Oh, all right. I'll take care of it! See you later, Superman!"

"Thank you, Jim. When should I call you back, Lois?"

"Give me an hour to make sure everything's set up. I think we'll
aim for either late this evening or mid-afternoon tomorrow,
unless you have other plans at those times."

"No, I'm free then. I just hope I stay that way."

"Sure you will! The DA only wants to question you about Bill
Church. No charges have ever been filed."

"Yes, but the statute of limitations doesn't apply to murder."

"Superman, nobody's going to charge you with murder!"

"Okay, we're not past the limit for other crimes, either."

"Well, aren't you the eternal optimist now!"

"I'm a realist, Lois. I'll call back in an hour. And thank you.
For everything."

"You're welcome. Bye for now."

Realist my left kneecap, thought Lois, he's positively gloomy.
And he had no reason to be gloomy.

He didn't, did he?

*****

Jim came bouncing back into Lois's office within five minutes.
"I got it! Fresh battery and a backup, five rolls of film, two
external flash units and spare batteries for both of them! Man,
I feel like I've gone back in time with this getup."

"Like I said, Jim, I don't want any accusations of faked
pictures. We save every negative, too, okay?"

He grinned like a five-year-old on Christmas morning. "Of
course! Lois, this will be great, you'll see! Oh, man! We've
scooped every other paper in the country on this one!"

Before she could respond, Catharine knocked on the door and
leaned in. "Metropolis District Attorney Jonathan
just-call-me-Jack Reisman says to meet him at two-thirty
tomorrow in his office in the main courthouse. And if a pack of
reporters shows up, he'll charge you with littering and
exceeding the noise ordinance."

Lois frowned. "I hope you told him if we wanted to get loud we'd
shout with headlines."

Catharine smiled back. "Something like that, just a little more
subtle."

"Let's hope he's smart enough to understand what you meant.
Two-thirty tomorrow, right?"

"Right."

"Jim, you'll be ready?"

"I'm ready now! I was ready for this last week! Last year,
even!"

"Save the adrenaline, you may need it later. I think we should
meet here in my office and all four of us drive to the
courthouse in my Jeep."

Catharine nodded. "Good idea. Superman will need the leg room
and my Porsche only seats two."

Jimmy's jaw dropped. "You can't drive Superman to court in a
Porsche convertible! He'd get mobbed!"

Catharine grinned wider. "Mmm, I sure hope so."

Lois finally smiled. "Catharine Grant-Mooney, you are a happily
married woman! What would your husband say?"

She shrugged. "He'd tell me to save all my lovin' for him."

"And would you?"

She spun in place and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Of
course I would! I am, after all, a happily married woman."

*****

Exactly one hour later, Lois's phone rang again. "Hello!"

"Hey, boss lady, I got the - "

"Oh, Ron, it's just you."

"Sorry that it's just me! I only have a hot tip on that prison
guard bribery story."

"I'll transfer you to Jim. I'm waiting for another call."

"Really? There's someone else important in your life?"

"Cut it out, Ron! I'm waiting for Superman to call!"

There was a pause. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't - "

"That's the other line! You're on hold! Jimmy! Get line one,
it's Ron!" She slammed another button. "Hey! Hello!"

The man's voice sounded surprised. "Uh, it's me?"

"Oh, Cl - Superman! I'm sorry, I was on another line for a
moment. How does two-thirty tomorrow afternoon sound?"

"I'll have to check my calendar, but I think I have an open
slot."

"What? Oh, yes, ha-ha, very funny. The way I suggest that we do
this is for you to come to my office about one forty-five and
we'll sneak you down to the parking garage and get you over to
the courthouse to meet with the DA. He'll ask you some questions
and then you'll probably be free to leave by five o'clock at the
latest."

He sighed. "What if I'm not free to leave?"

"Don't be silly, he won't arrest Superman! Especially if he
wants to hold onto his job. Now is the timetable okay with
you?"

"Yes. Just leave your window open. And make sure there aren't
any loose papers on your desk."

She smiled. "Gotcha. I'll open the window at one thirty or so in
case you're early."

"Thank you. I may take you up on that offer."

"I'll look for you then. Oh, I've got all kinds of meetings
tomorrow that I have to move up, so I may not be in the office
when you get here, so just make yourself at home, but try to
stay out of sight. I'll close the door blinds to give you some
privacy."

"Thanks again. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, Lois."

"Goodbye - Superman."

She put the phone down and tried to control the fluttering in
her stomach. They'd talked about this day for several weeks,
tried to anticipate all contingencies, planned until Lois was
sick of planning, yet when the day came it still stunned her.

They had to do this. They had to clear Superman's name or she
and Clark would never have any peace, never be able to be
together without looking over Superman's shoulder. Clark had to
face the justice system he claimed he respected or people would
have a hard time trusting Superman again.

And he would face the music. She'd see to that. It wasn't just
for him, it was also for her. Lois Lane's future was resting on
what happened in the next thirty-six hours, and she was drawn
tighter than a banjo string.

She took a deep breath and cleaned the loose papers from her
desk, then pulled three folders out of her bottom drawer and
slid them into her briefcase. She still had a morning meeting
with the auditors, which she hoped would go smoothly, and two
employee reviews to prepare before Superman arrived the next
day, along with her usual crushing load of work to clear out of
her `in' box.

She also made a mental note to apologize to Ron Dombrowski when
she saw him again. She wasn't usually that rude to her friends.
Maybe it was because Clark still made her crazy, even now.

Paul Simon drifted through her mind, softly crooning "Still
Crazy After All These Years." She smiled and hoped the insanity
was still mutual.

>>> Wednesday, August 21st

At exactly 1:41 in the afternoon, Superman flashed through the
open window of Lois's office and came to rest out of sight
against the far wall. He glanced around and was mildly surprised
that Lois had followed his advice and removed almost all the
loose papers from her desk. The few that remained were secured
by a heavy ceramic paperweight in the shape of the Lincoln
Memorial in Washington, D. C.

He nodded to himself as he noted the drawn blinds on the inside
door and window. He closed the outer window and lowered the
shade, then looked around the office more casually.

Lois's Kerth awards for her own articles weren't there; he
assumed she kept them at home. But the Meriwether she'd won the
year before as editor of the Planet was displayed modestly atop
a bookcase. The walls were decorated with letters and photos,
most of which had been taken since Clark had left the Planet, so
he didn't know the story behind them.

The one that grabbed his attention most sharply was what
appeared to be a recent photo of Lois smiling at a yawning baby
held lovingly in her arms. Her expression was one of rapturous
joy. He wondered fleetingly if this was Lois's child, and if so,
who was the father? And how had he not known about this
momentous event in her life? Had she not waited for him?

But then, why should she have waited? How much encouragement had
he given her? If she had found someone else, even if only for a
short time, it wasn't her fault, it was his. He'd walked out on
her, on the Planet, on his career, even on Superman. He wouldn't
be here now, ready to surrender to justice and move on with his
life, if Lois hadn't given him the strength.

Then he shook himself. If Lois had borne a child, he'd know.
She'd never keep something that momentous from him. There was no
way she'd be less than rock-solid with him.

Unlike the way he'd been towards her.

He thought about the last three years and closed his eyes in
silent regret. He'd wasted so much time, allowed so many
criminals to go free, allowed so many people to be hurt, and all
because he'd lost his temper and his self-control and killed a
man. Could he still be Superman? Could he regain the trust of
the people? Could the people of Metropolis trust a
super-vigilante?

He had to find out. He had to know. He had to be strong, not
just for himself but for Lois, who'd waited for him for three
years. He had to be strong for his parents, who'd supported him
and allowed him to mourn while still quietly insisting that he
do the right thing. He wouldn't have blamed them if they'd
called the FBI to arrest him, but they hadn't. They'd loved him
and nurtured him and reminded him of his duty as a citizen, as
Superman, as their son, but most of all as a man, to do the
right thing no matter what it cost.

And it still stung that he'd not done any of that on his own. It
had taken Lois's love and encouragement to tip his moral scales
over to doing right despite the possible repercussions. He'd
known what he needed to do, but he hadn't had the courage or
wisdom or guts to do it on his own.

The idea that he'd lost - or at least misplaced - his ethical
touchstone, his acknowledgement of what was good and right and
just in the world, still bothered him. He'd avoided thinking for
too long how he'd abandoned his principles. It had taken another
person to remind him of who he was and what he represented. Only
now was he trying to find the courage to face his accusers, and
he knew they were out there. The New York Standard, the paper
Lois had worked for briefly three years before, was still
intermittently publishing editorials insisting that he be
brought to justice, asking why he'd refused to stand up for
himself and take responsibility for his actions.

His musings left him feeling empty and drained. Just how much
had he lost in the last three years and in the months before
that when his feud with Lois had nearly destroyed everything?
What had he allowed Bill Church to steal from him? Would he ever
recover? Could he ever make up for all that lost time?

He thought back to those days, when he thought he'd hated Lois
Lane with all the passion with which he'd previously loved her.
When he'd recanted his declaration of love after Luthor's death,
and she'd spewed acid on his soul as she'd told him that he was
a thousand times worse than Luthor and that she wouldn't spit on
him if he were on fire, he'd reacted with fear, then hurt, then
anger, then bitterness. He'd believed that Lois had destroyed
any chance he'd have for happiness or love.

Then he'd met Mayson Drake. She'd come on to him, almost
attacked him, and had at one point volunteered to spend a night,
a weekend, a week, a year, any amount of time with him he might
suggest to let her prove how much she cared him. He'd almost
succumbed to her charms, but then he'd thought about how Lois
had confronted him when he'd taken back his declaration of love
and decided that waiting was the best option.

Then, during an argument with Lois in the newsroom, he'd lost
his temper and almost destroyed a metal desk, leaving finger
marks under the edge. He'd thought Lois would take all kinds of
revenge on him when the evidence had helped her realize that
Clark Kent and Superman were the same person.

But she hadn't. Despite the way he'd treated her even then,
she'd kept the secret, and he'd come to realize that she wasn't
the venomous harpy he'd believed her to be. He'd wondered if
he'd made the wrong choice between Lois and Mayson. But Mayson
had seemed so happy with him, especially when he'd offered to
take her to meet his parents. That was when she'd first told him
she loved him.

Of course, it hadn't been a big surprise. And he might have told
her that he loved her if she hadn't insisted that he not answer
at that moment. That was also the night he'd decided to tell her
that Clark Kent, the man to whom she'd declared her love, was
also Superman, the colorfully garbed vigilante whom she'd barely
tolerated as an assistant district attorney. He'd hoped she'd
take the news well.

He'd hoped she wouldn't try to have him arrested.

But before he could tell her, she'd been killed, blown to pieces
in front of his eyes. He'd tried to save her but failed. He'd
gone to Intergang's headquarters with the intent of taking Bill
Church to the police, but when he'd realized that Mayson was
just one of the many victims of Intergang's murderous rampage
that night, he'd lost his temper and deliberately and viciously
killed the man.

That was the moment when he thought he'd lost himself. Superman
had hidden out in Smallville, cowering inside Clark Kent's
clothing, for three years, until Lois had come to visit his
parents and made him see that it was time to come back to
reality. She had breached the wall he'd set up to protect
himself from the outside world and made him realize that she
still loved him. She'd always loved him. It finally penetrated
the dense gray matter in his brain that when he'd told her he
didn't really love her, she'd only hurt him to the degree that
he'd already hurt her.

They'd spent almost a year getting past that anger to the point
where they could speak to each other in a civil manner. And
after Mayson's murder, he'd spent three more years running from
his own life. He'd forgotten that old saying: Wherever you run
to, no matter how far, wherever you go, there you are.

It hadn't been a pleasant awakening. He'd had to admit how
stupid and selfish he'd been. He'd had to forgive himself for
not being perfect and not saving every person Intergang had gone
after that night. He consoled himself in that, after Bill
Church's death, he'd only taken the other Intergang leaders to
the police. Not one of them had been injured, as long as you
didn't count the man who'd thrown up on him and the woman who'd
wet herself.

And now he was going to face justice for the one death that he'd
caused, the one man he'd killed. The taking of a human life
wasn't an option for Superman. The hero needed to be above any
suspicion that he might take personal vengeance on the
lawbreakers he captured. Superman's reputation had to be an
object of almost veneration, as long as people understood that
Superman himself was not to be worshipped or looked to in awe.

Part of him hoped he'd have a brief conversation with the
district attorney, shake hands, and go back to being the
Superman he'd once been. Another part of him insisted that he
had to pay for his crime. That part, the absolute justice part,
also insisted that if he went to jail, it should be for the rest
of his natural life, no matter how absurdly long that might be.

Yet another part of him was terrified of being confined in a
cage without sunlight, without freedom, without the opportunity
to fly anywhere he might wish to go, without the chance to help
people in trouble, without the possible satisfaction of
protecting the weak and preventing evil people from preying on
the helpless. He wanted to be Superman again, but he was afraid
he'd be denied that chance.

He heard two sets of footsteps approaching the office, so he
quickly hid in the small closet. He recognized Lois's voice as
soon as the door opened. He wasn't sure who the other person
was, so he remained in the closet.

" - so the bribery story is a go as soon as you verify those
last two items. You should be able to do that today, and if you
do, it's page three in section `A' tomorrow morning."

A man's voice responded. "I wish I had that Superman story you
were talking about."

"Yeah." He heard the change in Lois's voice. She must have
noticed the closed window. "I'd bring you in on this one if I
could, Ron, but Superman wants as few people involved as
possible. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes, I understand. I don't like it but I understand it."

"Thanks a bunch. Now shoo! Go get those details nailed down!"

"Yes, Commander! At once, Commander!" Superman peeked through
the closet door and saw the man give Lois a weird salute
involving stomping both feet several times and spinning his left
hand around in a circle multiple times before extending it
across his body and then touching it to his chin.

Could he possibly be responsible for the baby in the picture?

Or was Clark still being paranoid?

The man turned and bunny-hopped to the door, opened it, then
bunny-hopped out. Lois laughed and closed it behind him, made
certain the blinds were secure, then said quietly, "I'm alone
now, except for you."

He pushed the door open a few inches. "You know, that was a
silly performance. He could work for the Ministry of Silly Walks
if he wanted to."

"Ron's a silly person sometimes, but he's also a very good
reporter."

He stepped out of the closet. "Is that guy always like - hey!"

Lois turned and ran to him. She wrapped her arms around his
shoulders and tried to burrow her face into his chest. He put
his arms around her and laid his cheek on her hair.

They stood together, silent except for a few muffled sobs, for
almost two minutes. Then Lois slowly pulled away, sniffling.
"I'm sorry, I don't want to get your suit wet."

He wiped the tears from her face with his thumb. "I don't care.
I'm glad to see you, too."

She cupped his face and brought it down for a soft kiss. "I love
you. I'm so relieved that this is almost over."

His eyes clouded and his brow drew down. "Lois, this may not -
"

"Shh." She put her finger over his lips. "Don't say it, I know.
Let me be the positive one this time, okay?"

He smiled. "Okay." He wrapped her in his embrace once more, then
stepped back and asked, "What's our next step, Madam Editor?"

She laughed lightly, then finished drying her eyes. "Sorry. That
sounds so funny coming from you." She dropped her arms to her
sides. "The next step is to call Jim and Catharine in here.
They're part of our camouflage."

"Camouflage? What do you mean?"

"I'd rather show you than tell you. It's a writer thing; you
know it very well." She picked up the phone and punched in a
number. "Cath? It's time. Grab Jim and come on in."

She put down the phone. "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too." He turned and put his hands
together behind him. "I was looking at your photo gallery before
you came in and saw this one." He pointed to the picture of Lois
holding the baby, hoping that his apprehension didn't show.
"Who's this little bundle of joy?"

She smiled wider. "That's Lucy and Dan's little boy. They live
all the way over on the other coast, in Sacramento, and Auntie
Lois doesn't get to see her favorite nephew often enough.
Jason's about ten months old now. He's a wonderful little boy."

"He's a cutie, for sure." He sighed in relief. Nephews were
good. They were great, in fact. Wonderful, even. Truth be told,
nephews were fantastic.

Then he had another thought. "Wait. Lucy and Dan who?"

"My sister Lucy and her husband Dan. Who did you think I
meant?"

Chagrined, he shook his head. "I didn't even know Lucy was
married."

"Yep," she smiled. "Two years ago this past May tenth. They are
so happy together."

"What's Dan's last name?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but the door flew open and
Catharine and Jim hurried in. Jim closed the door as Catharine
walked to Superman and took his face in her hands.

Instead of her usual playful expression, she wore the most
serious, most direct, most open, most grateful face Superman had
seen in years. "You stopped Intergang. If you hadn't, they'd
have finished me off. I owe you my life, Superman."

"Catharine, you really don't hammmpphhh!"

She curled her fingers behind his head and kissed him gently but
thoroughly. As she slowly pulled back, she whispered, "Thank
you."

Catharine stepped back and allowed Jim to lean in. "Hope you
don't mind if I just shake your hand. Good to see you,
Superman!"

They shook. "I don't mind at all. Congratulations again on your
new job."

Jim beamed and stood ramrod straight. "Thanks! You're looking
good."

"You too, Jim. I like the hairstyle. Much more professional."

Jim wiggled an eyebrow. "Had to. I couldn't wear coats and ties
with that teenage soap opera hair I used to have. At least now
some people take me seriously." They shared a chuckle.
"Superman, I'll be taking the pictures today at your - uh, what
do we call this shindig, anyway?"

 "We call it a `surrender to the authorities' because that's
exactly what it is." Lois pointed at the blue-clad hero. "But
you can't parade through the newsroom like that, Superman. You'd
start a riot." She frowned in thought for a moment, then
brightened. "I know!"

She opened the closet and searched madly for a moment, then
grinned. "Hah! I knew this would come in handy one day!"

She pulled out a huge black slicker and handed it to Superman.
"Let's see if it fits. Oh, and wrap this blue muffler around
your throat. Can't have your Adam's apple spilling the beans."

He looked at it and frowned. "What beans? Lois, what are you
talking about?"

"We're transforming you into K. C. Jerome, reclusive romance
novelist. She's written three best-sellers in the last two years
and eight of the top fifteen romantic titles in the last three
years and no one know what she looks like, so you're it."

Superman's eyes expanded exponentially. "Uh, Lois, I'm not sure
- "

Lois pulled a decrepit wide-brimmed hat and a stringy gray wig
from the closet shelf. "Good, I thought these were gone. Ah! The
almost-final touch, wraparound sunglasses, the eyewear of choice
for the discerning senior. Let's see, yes, those wine-red gloves
with the sequins on them are still in here." She tossed them at
the superhero and resumed her rummaging. "Slip those on your
hands, but don't flex too hard or they might split. And - ah-ha!
- these will complete the ensemble, assuming they fit."

She held up a pair of immense black overshoes. "Put these over
your boots. When you walk, bend over and shuffle like you have
sore knees and a bad back. Don't make any sudden movements, take
little steps, and look down. No chance anyone will spot you for
who you really are."

He looked at her and caught the sharp smile and raised eyebrow,
and he understood that her twisted sense of irony was in
overdrive. No one else in the city knew that Clark Kent had been
writing romance novels for the last three years under the
pseudonym K. C. Jerome. The first book was something he'd thrown
together and submitted just to have something to occupy his
time, but the public had eaten it up and demanded more. So he'd
complied. At first, it was just something to earn money while he
waited for his life to settle down after Mayson's death, but
since then his `other' secret identity had taken on a life of
her own. His publisher had been besieged with requests for
personal appearances and interviews, and the more he declined
them, the greater the demand grew for K. C. Jerome to appear in
public, and failing that, for more K. C. Jerome books. Now Lois
was taking advantage of his situation to goad him a little and
get a minor scoop for the Planet at the same time.

Rather than react to her gentle taunting, he donned the getup
and asked, "How do I look?"

Catharine frowned. "You look like Superman in a bad disguise. Do
what Lois told you to do."

"What are you talking about?"

"Bend over. Not that far! That's it, just hunch over a little.
Now look down at the floor and walk like your knees are tied
together."

He tried it. Jim started laughing first, then Catharine and Lois
joined in. Superman groaned and straightened up. "Okay, that's
the end of that experiment. Next suggestion, please."

Catharine coughed back her jocularity and waved her hands. "No,
no, it's great! It'll work on anyone who doesn't know who you
really are."

"Come on! I look like a giant penguin on a lousy feather day and
you know it."

That set the three of them off again. Lois was first to regain
control. "No, Superman, it's okay, really! You just -
cough-cough - you just have to do that for everyone in the
newsroom. All we have to do is get to the elevator, ride it to
the basement parking garage, and we're home free!"

Superman nodded. "You make it sound so simple."

"It is! Oh, look, it's close to two already! We have to get
going."

Jim lifted his hand. "Wait. What if someone talks to him?"

Lois shook her head. "We'll all hover around like a bunch of
mama chickens."

Jim crossed his arms. "We need a backup plan. It's best if he
doesn't talk, but if he has to, we need to decide now how he's
gonna sound."

Catharine grinned. "I'd guess Julia Roberts is out of the
question."

Lois smiled back. "Maybe Katharine Hepburn in `Rooster Cogburn'
or `The Lion In Winter'?"

Jim smiled lifted an index finger. "I've got it! Robin Williams
as Mrs. Doubtfire."

Superman shrugged, then spoke loudly in a high, reedy voice with
a slight English-Irish accent. "Oh, hel-looo!"

Catharine grabbed her stomach and almost fell over. Lois leaned
against her desk and laughed herself breathless. Jim pressed one
hand to his mouth and said, "Maybe - maybe a little less
enthusiasm next time, okay?"

Superman began taking off his disguise. "I'm done. I'll meet the
three of you in front of the courthouse at precisely 2:25 p.m.
 
Lois grabbed his arm and held on frantically. "No! We have to do
it this way! The DA is expecting us to all drive up together and
he doesn't like surprises!"

"Lois, I promise I'll be there at - "

"What if there's an emergency? An accident on the freeway? A
bank robbery? An attempted kidnapping? A kitten in a tree?"

"A kitten? Lois, I - "

"No!" Her expression was part pleading and part commanding. "I
won't risk losing control of this situation! We do it this way
or I call the DA and tell him you've changed your mind!"

He looked into her eyes. "You'd do it, wouldn't you?"

She squeezed his arm as hard as she could. "In a Metropolis
minute."

He held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. "Catharine,
would you give me back that slicker? Thanks. Jim, you said a
little less over-the-top with the voice, didn't you?"

*****

Ron looked up in time to see Lois open her office door and
slowly lead an older woman out into the newsroom. He thought he
heard Lois call her `Miss Jerome' but he wasn't sure. At the
rate the old lady was moving, he was surprised she'd managed to
sneak past him. Besides, she was really tall. Even bent over,
she was still bigger than either Lois or Catharine.

He watched as Jim Olsen and Catharine Grant followed them to the
elevators. He wondered who she was and why she rated the
editor's special attention, then he turned back to review his
article once again.

He heard a thin, high-pitched voice from the direction of the
unlikely quartet, so he turned to look. Ralph was talking to
them, and he seemed energized by something. Ron stood and walked
closer to listen.

By this time Ralph was gesturing enthusiastically. "Oh, Miss
Jerome, I'm so pleased to meet you! You're my mother's favorite
author! She has all your books! She only wishes she had a signed
copy of one!"

That thin, keening voice answered from the black-clad figure.
"Thank you, young man. You're very kind. I shall send you a
signed copy in care of Miss Lane if you wish it."

Ralph almost jumped on the old woman, but Lois blocked his hands
just in time. "Oh, thank you, Miss Jerome! Oh, if it's not too
much trouble, could you send a copy of `The Willow Whispers at
Midnight?' It's my absolute - my mother's absolute favorite."

"I believe my agent will have an extra copy or two lying around.
Yes, I shall send that one to you."

For a moment, Ron thought Ralph would faint, but he steadied
himself. "Oh, Miss Jerome, that's wonderful, that's so
wonderful! Thank you, thank you, thank you - "

Lois pushed him aside. "That's enough heroine worship for today,
Ralph. Miss Jerome has to get back to her hotel and rest up for
her trip home."

"Sure, sure! I understand! Wow! K. C. Jerome! My mother'll have
a fit!"

As the elevator doors closed, Ron made his way over to Ralph.
"Hey, Ralph, who was that woman?"

Ralph turned starry eyes towards him. "You mean you don't know
who K. C. Jerome is? She's only the hottest romance writer in
the Western Hemisphere! She's sold over seven million copies of
her books in the last three years and she never appears in
public! Don't you keep up with stuff?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I know who she is now. Funny, I thought she'd
be younger and shorter."


*****

The doors closed on the four, but they didn't dare break
character. Franklin Stern and Ingrid Bliss, one of the Planet's
actuaries, were already in the elevator.

Lois tried to control her face as she greeted them. "Hello, Mr.
Stern, Ms. Bliss. Late lunch?"

Stern beamed at her. "Yes, actually. A working lunch with some
of our investors. How about you, Miss Lane?"

"Ah, we're just escorting Miss Jerome to her car."

Ingrid Bliss's deep blue eyes lit up behind her thin wire-frame
glasses. "Miss Jerome? This wouldn't be the reclusive K. C.
Jerome, would it?"

Oh, good, thought Lois, yet another fan. "Yes, it is. Miss
Jerome, may I introduce our publisher, Franklin Stern, and
Ingrid Bliss, our head actuary."

Superman extended his gloved hand and spoke in his Mrs.
Doubtfire voice again. "Hel-looo, both of you! It is so
wonderful to meet a fan."

Bliss lived up to her name as she gushed all over Superman. "Oh,
Miss Jerome, I'm so thrilled to meet you! My husband even reads
your books! I have all nine of them in hardback, even the first
one!"

Superman lifted his face to hers. "My dear, you have a copy of
`The Morning Cries Softly?' I thought they all went to be where
unsold books go to wither away!"

"Oh, no! I think that one's my favorite! In fact, I've been in
contact with your publisher, and they told me that they plan to
reissue the volume and that you're planning a sequel! Isn't that
wonderful? Can you tell me what it's about?"

Superman's mouth dropped open. Catharine leaned in and said,
"Now, Ms. Bliss, we can't let this story out before it appears
in the morning edition, can we?"

Ingrid's face fell, but she nodded. "Of course, I understand. I
wouldn't publish preliminary trial balance figures before they
were verified, so it stands to reason - "

"Exactly!" cried Catharine. Just then the doors opened at the
ground floor. Mr. Stern gestured for Ingrid to precede him.

Stern stopped in the doorway. "I enjoyed meeting you, Ms.
Jerome, and thank you for coming to the paper for your
interview."

"It was nothing, Mr. Stern. Thank you for your kind words."

"I won't keep you. Have a safe trip."

"Thank you, sir, and you have a tasty lunch."

Stern's boisterous laugh echoed off the walls of the Planet's
lobby. As the doors closed and they continued down, Superman
stood up and sighed. "That went well, I thought."

Lois threw her hands in the air. "Oh, sure! Now we have to come
up with an interview with K. C. Jerome for tomorrow's edition!
Ms. Bliss isn't going to forget about it, either, even with a
Superman exclusive on the front page."

Superman smiled. "Well, I think I can share this secret with the
three of you."

Lois blanched. "What? What are you talking about?"

He gestured and drew them all closer. "It's about this. It's
about K. C. Jerome."

Catharine's eyes were saucers. "I'm dying here! What's the
secret?"

He looked to each of them in turn. Catharine was desperately
eager, Jim was intensely curious, and Lois felt as if she were
about to have a coronary. "It's simple, actually. I happen to
know that K. C. Jerome's real name is - Clark Kent."

Lois heaved a deep sigh, which was unnoticed by Jim, who began
laughing hysterically, and by Catharine, who gulped and almost
choked. Superman smiled broadly and stood tall again.

Catharine managed to control herself and ask, "Are you serious?
Clark Kent is actually K. C. Jerome? That's just too funny!"

Lois smiled despite herself and shook her head. "Jerome is
Clark's middle name." The elevator chose that moment to stop.
"That must be our stop. Superman, would you impersonate an old
woman for a few moments more?"

The thin, reedy voice quavered out of his mouth again. "Of
course, my dear. I shall be happy to accommodate you." He looked
at Jim, who was holding on to the elevator rail inside the car
to keep himself upright. "If only to get away from this most
hysterical young man."

*****

"Superman, you comfy back there?"

"Yes, Lois, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"If you keep asking me that question, I'm going to start asking
you `Are we there yet?' every ten seconds."

From the front seat, Jim guffawed again and earned a sharp glare
from Lois. Catharine leaned over and patted Superman's hand.
"Don't worry, Superman, she always acts this way when there are
people in the passenger seats."

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Cath, I do not either!"

"Sure you do! Don't you remember last year when I rode with you
to that interview with Rick Stewart? You had to brake suddenly
and I got jerked against the seat belt and you almost freaked
out."

"I did not freak out! Besides, you'd been in your wheelchair for
a couple of days before that."

Catharine smiled. "Oh, yeah, I remember that."

Superman frowned slightly. "Why were you in the chair? I thought
you only needed it if you overworked your back."

Before Catharine could answer, Lois snapped, "Don't answer that!
Superman, she was in the chair because of Clay."

Superman frowned harder. "Because of Clay? What did he do, hit
you?"

Catharine chuckled evilly. "No, no! He was definitely
responsible, but there was no hitting involved, I promise."

Superman looked at Lois's ear and cheek, then he smiled. "Lois
Lane, you're blushing."

She threw an irritated glance over her shoulder at him. "You'd
blush, too, if you knew any of the details of that week."

Jim leaned his elbow on the divider. "So, you know the details
and you're not talking?"

Lois stopped at a traffic light and turned in her seat. "I'm
only going to say this one time: Change the subject. Now." She
straightened and stared at the light, willing it to turn green.

Catharine and Jim shared a stifled laugh. Superman crossed his
arms and tried to look stern and forbidding but failed. Lois did
her best to ignore the giggles and splutters in the Jeep.

No one spoke again until they stopped in front of the courthouse
precisely at 2:23 p.m. Superman exited, removed his disguise,
and strode up the steps with Jim on his right, Lois on his left,
and Catharine bringing up the rear. Without actually planning
it, the effect was that they escorted the superhero up the stone
steps to the building's front door.

DA Jonathan "Jack" Reisman opened the door and offered Superman
his hand. Jim had his camera ready and snapped four quick photos
as they shook hands. Catharine managed to sneak into two of the
shots.

Reisman asked, "Are you ready for this, Superman?"

"It's a little late to ask that question, don't you think?"

Reisman laughed and Jim snapped another shot, this one a candid
frame with all parties smiling. The DA then led the entire group
into the courthouse.

Inside, an assistant DA smoothly cut Lois, Catharine and Jim off
from Superman. She pointed them to her office and said, "I hope
you don't mind, but the DA wanted to interview Superman without
any media present."

Lois stopped. "That's Superman's decision to make, isn't it?"

The tall, willowy brunette smiled perkily and tilted her head to
one side. "DA Reisman is hoping that you'll cooperate as well as
Superman is cooperating."

Lois nodded. "We may as well introduce ourselves. I'm Lois Lane,
editor of the Daily Planet. This is Catharine Grant-Mooney and
James Olsen."

The brunette smiled. "I'm assistant District Attorney Melanie
Welch. Can I get you anything? Soft drinks? Coffee?"

Catharine scowled. "Unless your coffee is better than the
newsroom sludge we get, no thanks."

Melanie laughed lightly. Lois noticed that Jim seemed to like
her laugh. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Grant-Mooney, but - "

"Please, just call me Catharine."

"Thank you. Our coffee is barely a step above the carbon remover
available in almost every police precinct in the city, so I
guess we'll just go with soft drinks or water. Any
preferences?"

Jim stepped forward. "I know what these ladies like. I'll go
with you if you want. To, uh, help you pick out the drinks."

Melanie flashed him a bright smile. "Thank you, Mr. Olsen."

"Please, call me Jim. Everyone else does."

"Thanks, Jim. I'm Melanie. The drink machine is this way."

Melanie led Jim outside and down the hall. Lois picked a couch
and sank down on the cushion. Catharine pulled a chair in front
of her and settled into it.

"What's the matter, Lois? You look like you've just run out of
your favorite ice cream."

Lois didn't smile. "I don't like this. Something's wrong."

Catharine shook her long auburn tresses. "This is just the DA
saving face. He has to make a show of investigating Superman as
thoroughly as he would anyone else. Don't worry, we'll be taking
Big Blue out for a celebration dinner before you know it."

"Oh, yeah, that'd be subtle, taking Superman to a restaurant."

"Not in his super-suit! He could use that K. C. Jerome disguise
again."

Lois looked up and saw the mischief dancing in Cat's eyes and
smiled. "Yeah, that would be funny." Lois looked out the window
for a moment, then suddenly chortled.

Catharine tilted her head to one side. "What was that for?"

Still grinning, Lois answered, "I was just thinking about what
he'd order. I'll bet K. C. Jerome doesn't have good teeth!"

Catharine laughed out loud. "He'd have to eat nothing but mashed
potatoes and pudding!"

They were still laughing when Jim followed Melanie back to the
office and began handing out sodas. "Here you go, Lois, cream
soda, and Catharine, this is some kind of flavored diet water."

Catharine made a show of examining the label. "Oh, I suppose
it'll do, Jim."

"Hey! I passed up three other bottles for that one! I was sure I
saw its cousin on your desk yesterday."

"And why are you hanging around the desk of a married woman
anyway? Your love life that bad?"

He frowned and opened his mouth, but Melanie's desk phone buzzed
and she snatched it up. "ADA Welch here. Yes, all three of them.
What? Jack, you did what?" She paled and sat down in her chair.
"Are you sure? Second degree? You're kidding! Oh, no, I'm sorry,
no! Are you sure? Yes, I'll tell them."

She put the phone down slowly and turned to the trio staring at
her. "I - don't quite know how to say this - but - but the
Metropolis Police Department, acting under the direction of
District Attorney John Reisman, has taken Superman into
custody."

Lois leaped to her feet and almost took off. "WHAT! They did
what?"

The startled young ADA rolled her chair back against the wall.
"Please, Miss Lane, I'm only repeating - "

"Call him back! Call him back right now and - Let me go!"

Jim tugged her back by the elbow. "Lois, stop! This won't
help!"

Catharine stood close but didn't touch her. "He's right, Lois.
Calm down. Keep your cool, okay?"

Lois allowed herself to be pulled away from Melanie's desk, then
fixed the younger woman with a glacial glare. "Exactly what is
the future ex-district attorney of Metropolis charging Superman
with?"

Melanie gulped. "One count of murder in the second degree in the
death of William Church."

Lois's eyes glowed with rage. "Murder! Why, you - you - "

Catharine leaned closer and spoke in a low, gentle tone. "Calm
down, Lois. Easy, now."

Lois visibly controlled herself and pulled back slightly. "Why
arrest him now? Why wasn't there a warrant out before now?"

"Th-the grand jury convened this morning. They must have handed
down the indictment then, but I wasn't there, just Jack - DA
Reisman. I didn't know this was going to happen, I swear it!"

Lois braced herself to do something, anything, but Catharine
gripped her shoulder and said, "Lois. Let's go get the story,
okay?"

Lois hesitated a moment, then nodded shortly. "Okay. We'll get
the story." Then she snarled, "And that's not all I'm going to
get!"


Rebuilding Superman

Chapter Two

>>> Thursday, August 22nd

Lois stared at the morning's headline, wanting desperately for
it to be untrue but knowing it was absolutely true, knowing that
it wouldn't change no matter how long she glared at it.
`Superman Arrested,' it blared. The subheading read, `Charged
with Second-Degree Murder.' The body of the article told how
Superman had agreed to surrender to the DA and be questioned
about Bill Church's death, but had then been arrested and
charged. The arraignment was scheduled for ten o'clock that
morning, and every media outlet on the coast wanted a piece of
this one.

But the Planet had the inside track, the personal relationship
with Superman, and therefore was first in line for any scrap of
news. Even LNN was calling them for info, pictures, rumors and
innuendo, or speculation. Lois had issued one of her rare
executive orders that all requests for Superman data - and she
meant every single solitary hint - was to be funneled to her.
She would release what she saw fit to release, and keep the rest
under cover.

She folded the paper on her desk and laid her head on her hands.
She had almost two hours before the arraignment hearing.
Superman would have a public defender, since Murray Brown was
out of state on a business trip for the Superman Foundation. He
wasn't a criminal defense attorney anyway, so Superman would
have to search for a lawyer once he was released.

And he had to be released. She'd see to it if they wanted bail,
but surely the judge wouldn't order bail for Superman! The very
thought was absurd, but then, so was the entire situation. So
she picked up the phone again to make a call about that very
issue, but the sight of the receiver in her hand gave her
pause.

She'd made a frantic phone call to the Kents before leaving work
the night before and broken the news to them. They were
disappointed, but resigned. And Lois had managed to make them
all laugh when she'd described K. C. Jerome's first public
appearance. They'd even given her a couple of tidbits for the
interview which Lois had concocted and printed under Catharine's
byline.

She thought about poor Clark - poor Superman - in jail with a
bunch of deliberate lawbreakers. They couldn't hurt him
physically, of course, but who knew what kind of verbal or
psychological abuse he'd be subjected to in there?

She forced those thoughts from her mind and began dialing.

*****

From his seat on the bench in the cell, Superman looked at the
huge man looming in front of him. "No, sir, I agree that you're
a lot bigger than I am, that you're probably the baddest fighter
in the city of Metropolis, and if I were a normal human you
could defeat me in seconds, but I'm not a normal human, so I'm
not going to fight you for any reason whatsoever."

The man was almost seven feet tall and built like a shipyard
crane. He leaned down and roared drool into Superman's face.
"That ain't good enough! I'm gonna whip you right now! Get up,
Bubba! Get up and get ready to bleed!"

Superman shook his head. "You don't understand, sir. I really am
Superman."

He sneered. "Sure you are! You in here cause you forgot to
register your cape, right?"

The other prisoners laughed, some harder than others, but no one
wanted to cross the man Superman had mentally nicknamed Tiny.
"Actually, I'm here because I killed someone."

"Oh, really? Who'd you knock off, anyway?"

"Bill Church, the head of Intergang."

The dozen or so men paused and stared at him, then Tiny burst
out laughing again and the rest followed his example. "You
killed the head of Intergang, huh? You don't look so tough to
me, shorty!"

"I was a little worked up at the time."

"Ha-ha-ha! A little worked up, huh? Let's see how worked up you
can get now!"

"I told you, I'm not going to - "

Tiny clenched his massive fist and slammed a giant roundhouse
punch into Superman's jaw. A normal human would have sustained
multiple broken bones and been knocked against the bars and onto
the floor, unconscious if not comatose.

Superman simply finished his sentence. " - fight you under any
circumstances. Okay?"

Tiny stared at him for a moment, astounded, then unleashed two
more horse-killing blows. Superman continued to stare calmly.
Tiny looked at his hands as if wondering where they'd gone. "I
hit you real hard. I know I hit you hard! How'd you do that?"

Superman stood. "I told you. You didn't listen. Now this can go
on until you break your hands, but I'd rather you didn't punch
me again. It's a little irritating."

Tiny roared with rage and lifted both fists over his head, then
brought them down with crashing force atop Superman's head. The
scream suddenly careened from anger to pain as Tiny hugged his
bruised hands to his chest. His anger won out, and he clenched
his hands together again and swung horizontally, trying to take
his target's head off.

Superman ducked under the blow, then took a quick breath and
blew out. Tiny stumbled backwards as the force he'd put into his
punch, combined with the puff of air from Superman's lungs, spun
him completely around. He tripped and sat down hard on the bench
against the far wall.

"Hey, man, how'd you do that?"

Superman glanced at the guard station to make sure no one was
watching too closely, then levitated in the air and floated
above Tiny and his accomplices. "I told you how. I'm Superman.
Now, if you'll stop trying to injure me, which you can't do, I
won't tell the guards you were trying to start a fight with me.
Deal?"

Still angry, Tiny reached up and tried to snatch Superman out of
the air. He intercepted the huge man's grab and lifted him off
the floor by the wrist. "Are you done now?"

Tiny wriggled and squirmed like a shark on a hook. Superman
shook him slightly and asked, "Once again, are you done now?"
Tiny just glared at him. "Okay, then, count on being up here all
day."

Tiny looked down at the floor, then around at the top of the
cell, then glared sullenly at his captor. "We're done, I
guess."

"You sure? I don't want to have to do this any more."

"Hey, you obscene deleted expletive - "

Superman bounced him again. "Or we can play for a while. Your
choice."

Tiny stifled a cry of pain and grabbed his shoulder with his
free hand. After a moment, he nodded. "Yeah. We're done."

Immediately he was lowered to the floor. "There. See how easy
that was?" Superman sat down in his previous spot and crossed
his arms. "I'm going to rest now."

Tiny stood in front of him for a moment, then turned and waved
his massive arms at the other prisoners. "Y'all make room, now,
and let Superman rest. Nobody bothers him! Y'all got that?"

The others muttered and nodded, then turned away from Tiny's
glare. To Superman's surprise, Tiny sat down gently on the bench
beside him and leaned back against the wall. "Won't nobody
bother you now, Superman."

"Thanks. Hey, what's your name?"

"Walter Macklin. But folks generally just call me Tiny. Cause
I'm so big, y'know?"

Superman grinned, partly at the pun and partly at guessing the
big man's nickname correctly. "Yeah, I can see that. Thank you,
Tiny."

"No prob, man. Hey, can I ask you a question?"

You just did, thought Superman, but said, "Sure."

"How come you didn't take me out? I mean, when I slugged you and
all."

He lost his smile. "Why should I? You couldn't have hurt me."

"Yeah, but you said you was here `cause you knocked off Bill
Church. What makes me so special that you don't wanna kill me?"

Superman frowned. "I promised myself a long time ago, before I
even knew that Bill Church existed, that I'd never use my powers
to harm people, only help them. But Intergang killed a lot of
people and tried to kill more, all at the same time, and I - I
guess I just lost it." He looked at Tiny and willed him to
understand. "I did something I promised myself I'd never do. I
took a human life. And by doing that, I also caused a lot of
people to trust me less. I broke man's law and violated my own
moral code. And I don't ever want to do that again." He sighed
and leaned against the wall. "I hope I explained it clearly
enough."

Tiny nodded. "Yeah, man, you did. I understand. Like my uncle,
when he smuggled some dope up from Mexico and got caught. Said
he never wanted to before, just seemed like the right thing at
the time. But it wasn't. He got busted and convicted. Doin' two
to five in New Mexico State Correctional Facility right now."
The immense man slapped him jauntily on the knee. "You just rest
yourself, SuperDude. I got your back."

"Thanks, Tiny." Superman closed his eyes. Friends are where you
find them, he mused.

*****

"Yes? May I help you?"

"I'd like to see Mr. Stern."

"Do you have an appointment, ma'am?"

"Just pick up your phone and say, `Lois Lane to see Mr. Stern.'
I think he'll let me in."

"Oh! Ms. Lane, I apologize for not recognizing you. I've only
been in this office for about a week and - "

Lois leaned over the desk and fixed the girl with a lancing
stare. "Is Mr. Stern busy or can I see him?"

"Uh, let me check." She picked up the phone and dialed a number.
"Lois Lane to see you, sir. No, sir, no appointment. She hasn't
said, but I'd guess it is urgent. Of course, sir." She lowered
the phone. "If you can wait five minutes, Mr. Stern can see
you."

Lois controlled her first impulse to snap back at her and tried
to smile. "Thanks. I'll wait."

From the little blonde's reaction, Lois wondered if she'd grown
long sharpened canines since she'd brushed her teeth that
morning. The girl told Stern that Lois would wait, then offered
her something to drink.

Lois shook her head. "No thanks, I'm good."

She sat down in a plush chair and idly wondered how much it
cost, and whether or not the money might have been better spent
on software upgrades or improved security or increases in
reporter's salaries. Then she frowned and told herself to focus
on the reason for her visit.

The young secretary's phone buzzed and she picked it up. "Yes,
sir? Of course." She hung up the phone and smiled at Lois. "Mr.
Stern will see you now, Ms. Lane."

"Thanks." Lois pushed through the heavy double doors and tugged
them shut behind her. Franklin Stern stood up, and his
personality and voice filled the room.

"Lois! My dear, it's so good to see you. You should come up here
more often. You make this office brighter by just being here."

"Thank you, Mr. Stern."

"How is the paper doing today?"

"Quite well, sir, thank you for asking. I hope you don't mind if
I'm direct."

"Not at all! I like a person who gets to the point. Saves
time."

"I'm glad you feel that way, so here's the point. Superman's
arraignment is this morning and my sources tell me the DA plans
to ask for a ridiculously huge bail. If the judge is dumb enough
to fall for it, I'd like for the Planet to post bond for
Superman."

Stern's smile lost some of its luster. "Bail for Superman? We
don't usually bail out people who don't work for us, especially
not accused felons."

Lois focused on being patient and convincing at the same time.
"True, but these aren't the usual circumstances. I know I'm
asking a great deal, but Superman isn't going to blow off his
trial date any more than you would refuse to pay your electric
bill. This is an extremely low-risk investment, sir, and the
positive publicity that would accrue to the Planet would be more
than worth any lost interest."

"Hmm." Stern picked up a sheet of paper. "These are the
circulation projections for Superman's trial. We stand to
increase point-of-sale revenue by at least twenty percent, and
the subscription rate will go up by eight to ten percent. Or so
the actuaries tell me." He put the paper down. "How high do you
think the bail will be?"

She didn't bat an eye. "I'm hearing the DA will ask for ten
million dollars."

Stern was equally poker-faced. "Ten million, eh? Hmm. Let me
think for a moment."

He sat down and folded his hands below his chin, then slowly
turned aimlessly in his chair. Lois wanted to shake him, to give
him more information, to appeal to his sense of justice and fair
play, to convince him to stand up for Superman, but she knew
Stern had all the information he wanted at the moment. If he
thought he needed anything else, he'd ask for it.

After thirty seconds that felt like thirty hours to Lois, Stern
spun his chair to face her again and stood up briskly. "We can
go as high as five million. I just don't have the cash reserves
to risk more right now. Besides, the Superman Foundation will
also have a legal presence there today, and we can join with
them to come up with the money." He walked around the desk and
held his hand out. "Lois, I agree with you. Superman should be
free, and the Planet will do all it can to ensure his freedom. I
will personally match the Foundation's contribution to
Superman's bail."

Her hand disappeared into his huge mitt. "Thank you, Mr. Stern.
I promise you, this is money well invested."

His smile lit up the room again. "I'm sure it will be. Now, if
you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with some real estate people.
I'm buying some very nice property upstate but I don't want to
pay what they're asking."

Lois chuckled. "Buy low and sell high, right?"

He lifted an eyebrow and lowered his voice. "That's what I do to
people. That's not what people do to me."

*****

Lois and Ron got out of the cab at nine thirty-two AM. The
streets outside the courthouse were jammed with sightseers,
out-of-town press, police, and people simply caught up in the
craziness. Ron physically forced a path through the crush up to
the police line where he and Lois showed their press
credentials. Even so, they had to appeal to the lieutenant in
charge of the detail before they were allowed to enter the
building.

There was more security inside, in every hallway and office and
even in the restrooms, as Ron found out when he went inside one
to get some mysterious sticky substance off his shoe. The
officer inside nearly arrested him when Ron removed his shoe and
started scrubbing the sole.

Lois was pacing in front of the men's room as Ron exited. "Where
have you been? The arraignment starts in ten minutes!"

Ron gave her a hangdog expression. "It isn't my fault, honest. I
almost got arrested in there."

"What? Why? Oh, never mind! I really don't need to know about
your personal problems. Come on, we've got to find the
Foundation's lawyer."

He pointed. "I think the guy holding up the sign that says `Lois
Lane' will have a clue."

"Huh?" She followed the direction of his finger. "Wow. You'd
think this was an airport. Come, Sancho, let us return to the
quest."

Ron followed at her shoulder. "Ooh, a medieval literary
reference. Be still, my beating heart."

"Be still your flapping mouth. Hi, I'm Lois Lane and this is Ron
Dombrowski from the Daily Planet. And you are?"

"Wayne Anthony, head of the litigation department at the
Superman Foundation."

Lois's mouth quirked sideways. "A man with two first names.
Convenient."

Ron frowned. "The foundation has a litigation department? How
much litigation is the Foundation involved in?"

"Oh, not that much really, just the occasional knock-off action
figures and some unlicensed t-shirts, that sort of thing.
Doesn't keep me all that busy, which is why I drew the short
straw and ended up here." He hesitated, then noticed the serious
expressions on his new associates' faces. "Not that I'm not
thrilled to be here, I mean pleased, no, I'm not pleased that
Superman's been arrested, I mean it's wonderful to meet you, but
- "

Ron lifted his hands. "Whoa! Lois, take pity on the guy, okay?
Let's do what we came to do and not let him embarrass himself
all over the place. Besides, I don't think his backup lights are
working."

Lois allowed herself a small grin. "Okay, Mr. Anthony. We think
DA Reisman will ask for an outrageously high bail for Superman.
Franklin Stern, the owner and publisher of the Daily Planet, has
agreed to pay half of Superman's bail as long as the bail is ten
million or less."

Anthony's face paled and his jaw dropped. "What! Oh, my! You -
you mean you'll - I mean Mr. Stern will contribute up to five
million dollars? For Superman's bail?"

"Yes. And it's almost time to start. Let's see if we can get
closer, okay?"

Without waiting for a reply, Lois turned and began elbowing
people out of her way. Several people objected momentarily,
until they either recognized Lois or saw the intense
determination on her face. Ron followed with Anthony in tow, and
they managed to secure a place at the rail behind the
defendant's desk.

The arraignment judge looked out over the crowded gallery. She
stood and lifted her hands, asking for quiet. Eventually the
babble petered out and she smiled.

Her voice was pleasant but firm. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am
Municipal Court Judge Evita Rodriguez, and I have the dubious
privilege of overseeing the arraignment of Superman today. I
realize that this is a most unusual situation for all of us, but
this is still a court of law. I have already instructed the
bailiffs to forcibly remove anyone who impedes the progress of
this court.

"That means that, despite the large number of media people here
today, we will not have any planned or impromptu interviews with
any of the participants here in the courtroom. You may, if you
wish, approach any of the court personnel or other participants
on their personal time and speak with them, assuming they're
willing to respond, but you will not disrupt this court today.
Anyone who does so will be arrested and charged with contempt of
court. Anyone who suffers that fate will have any cameras and or
recorders removed from their person and the data contents
destroyed, whether analog or digital. That means anyone and
everyone."

She paused and swept the room with her gaze. "If you feel you
can't conduct yourself within these boundaries, leave now.
Otherwise, you had better be on your best behavior."

Anthony leaned forward and whispered to a tall, slender young
black woman who was standing at the defendant's desk. After a
moment, she nodded and motioned to a bailiff to let Anthony join
her.

Judge Rodriguez waited until Anthony was standing beside the
other attorney, then she sat down and said, "We're ready for our
first case. Clerk of the court, please call it."

"Yes, ma'am. First case, People of Metropolis versus Superman.
The charge is murder in the second degree."

A quiet gasp went up as Superman was escorted into the
courtroom. He made momentary eye contact with Lois, and she
smiled her encouragement. Lois noted to herself that he wasn't
wearing handcuffs, and the bailiff escorting him didn't touch
him, but only gestured to guide Superman to his proper place in
the court. She also noticed that the district attorney himself
was there to represent the state.

Rodriguez frowned as she glanced at the folder the clerk handed
her. "Second-degree murder. Mr. Reisman, you're swinging for the
fences today, aren't you?"

Jack Reisman puffed up his chest. "Your Honor, the people stand
on the charge as read."

"It's your career, Mr. Reisman. Superman, have you retained
legal counsel?"

The fiercely attractive black woman spoke with a slight but
musical Georgia drawl. "Your Honor, I'm Blair Collins from Legal
Aid. Mr. Wayne Anthony will assist me today if need be."

Rodriguez raised one eyebrow. "And is Mr. Wayne Anthony an
attorney?"

"I'm head of the litigation department for the Superman
Foundation, Your Honor, and licensed to practice in this
state."

"Very well. Ms. Collins, how does your client plead?"

Blair looked at Superman and mouthed "not guilty." Superman
crossed his arms and repeated the plea aloud. Again, the crowd
`oohed' at the statement.

Judge Rodriguez looked up and stared until the murmuring
stopped. "Thank you, Superman. Mr. Reisman, does the state have
any bail recommendation?"

"The state requests a bail of ten million dollars, Your Honor."

An audible gasp ran through the gallery. Blair immediately
responded. "Your Honor! Superman is a well-known law-abiding
person and has no plans to escape this jurisdiction. The defense
asks for his release on his own recognizance."

Reisman objected. "The defendant is charged with second-degree
murder, Your Honor! The state wants some assurance that he won't
simply fly away and not come back."

Blair didn't wait for the DA to take another breath. "The very
fact that Superman is here right now is proof that he's willing
to undergo this trial! It wasn't the cell that kept him in
custody last night but his own sense of duty and his desire to
see justice done. The state has no facility that would keep
Superman incarcerated against his will. Your Honor, bail for
Superman is unnecessary. He will be available durin' the
trial."

"Your Honor! This woman - "

Rodriguez slammed her gavel down once. "That's enough, both of
you! Superman, does the court have your word that you will be
available for the trial irrespective of other circumstances?"

He nodded. "Barring an event such as an asteroid heading towards
Earth, Your Honor, nothing will keep me away from this trial."

"Fair enough. One million dollars bail, cash or bond. Please
return Superman to the holding facility until bail is posted. I
assume that's going to happen?"

Lois and Anthony said "Yes, Your Honor" in unison.

Rodriguez smiled. "I always wanted a good stereo system in my
court. Very well." She whacked her gavel down again. "Pending
the clearing of the court, we'll take the next case. See the
bailiff to arrange for bail, Mr. Anthony."

*****

The cashier fast-tracked the paperwork for Superman's bail and
the officers took care to keep him updated on each step of the
process. It was the first time since Luthor's attempt to run him
out of town with the heat wave that he'd experienced the `other
side' of the justice system, and it was sobering. He'd seen
first-hand, despite the deliberate courtesy the officers showed
him, how dehumanizing jail could be. Prison had to be even
worse, since the inmates there were more isolated and more
regimented than in the city jail.

Between updates from the guards, Clark thought about doing
something about the conditions in the jail, some kind of
long-term solution, but without a lot more thought and huge
amounts of research, he wouldn't come up with any viable
alternatives. Everything he suggested to himself at the moment
he promptly shot down as unworkable, incredibly expensive, or
impossible to maintain. Maybe he'd write something about it.
Maybe he could get some experts together and make some solid,
constructive suggestions.

Lost in his thoughts as Clark, he didn't answer when the guard
called for him twice. It wasn't until Tiny shook him by the
shoulder that he responded.

"Hey! Superman, you okay?"

"Uh, yeah, Walter, I was just - thinking."

Tiny grinned. "Yeah, I done that a time or two. Usually gets me
in big trouble." He stood and gestured to the cell door. "The
man wanna see you. I think they're gonna spring ya."

Superman stood. "Thanks, Tiny. Hope you get a break from the
judge."

Tiny laughed. "Don't matter. I'll land on my feet anyways. You
go be a hero again."

*****

Lois and Jim met Superman as he was escorted out of the holding
area. The officer held out his hand and said, "I'm sorry about
all this, Superman, I was just doing my job. I hope you don't
hold it against me."

Superman took the officer's hand and gave it a manly squeeze. "I
don't. And I appreciate you guys keeping me in the loop on my
bail. Say, you should keep an eye on Walter and try to keep him
out of trouble."

"Who?"

"Walter Macklin. He goes by the name of Tiny. He's not a bad
guy, at least I don't think he is, but he's a little
hot-tempered at times."

"Macklin? Big guy, built like the Lexor Tower?" Superman nodded,
and the officer grinned. "I know him. Don't worry, we won't let
him hurt anyone, including himself."

Jim lifted his camera and took the shot. It was too good to
miss. Lois knew it was a Meriwether-quality photo, but somehow
she regretted it. The moment was personal, private, and she'd
pushed it into the public eye.

But it was too late to turn back. She pointed her pocket
recorder at him and said, "Superman, how does it feel to be free
again?"

He gave her a look as if he'd been expecting her to ask him
something else, then said, "It feels great. I know the air in
there is just about the same as it is out here, but there's
something indefinable about breathing the air in a jail cell. It
just smells like - like the inside of a cage."

Lois nodded briefly, then asked, "What are your plans now?"

He answered as he walked towards the exit. "I need to find an
attorney. Ms. Collins told me she isn't qualified to be lead
counsel for a trial like this, so I'll have to locate one,
although I'd like for her to assist in my case if she can get a
leave of absence from the Legal Aid department, assuming my
actual attorney agrees. And please tell your readers that I
appreciate any suggestions they might have, and that they should
contact the Daily Planet with them."

Lois's eyes narrowed. That sounded like he was getting a little
payback for his being K. C. Jerome the day before. And that
didn't bode well for their personal relationship.

She forced herself back to the task at hand. "How do you think
the trial will go? Do you expect to be exonerated?"

He stopped suddenly and turned to her. "I expect that justice
will be done, Miss Lane. I don't expect any special treatment or
any favors because of my name or what I've done in the past.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get started on a lawyer
hunt."

He turned and pushed through the outside door. The media frenzy
surrounding him went into overdrive, but only for a moment, as
Superman glanced around and quickly launched himself into the
sky.


Rebuilding Superman

Chapter Three

>>> Thursday, August 22nd

Lois arranged the place settings for the fourth time, then shook
herself and stood straight. She smoothed her slacks and tugged
her blouse into place again.

It was still five minutes before seven, and Clark was neither
late nor early for social engagements. Besides, he might have a
Superman emergency to deal with. He might even prefer that to
spending time with her. That was certainly the impression she'd
received that morning at the courthouse.

No, she told herself, he was being Superman for the public. He
wasn't her Clark, not at that time. For that matter, he wasn't
her anything yet, at least not officially.

That was what she wanted to talk about tonight. She didn't want
the news business to intrude, she didn't want Clark's career as
a novelist to be at center stage, she didn't want his upcoming
trial to dominate their time together, she only wanted to be a
woman having dinner with the man she loved. The fact that he was
also facing a felony murder charge was incidental. Surely he'd
get off.

She stopped herself. Get off? Was she actually hoping for a
not-guilty verdict because of her relationship with Clark and
not because she believed the charges were unjustified? If that
were true, it sure messed with her journalistic integrity and
her detachment. She'd have to think about that. But not now.
Later. After dinner. After Clark went home.

Maybe some time tomorrow.

A soft tap sounded from the front door. She glanced at the
clock. Seven on the dot. She peeked through the spy hole and saw
Clark standing there. He wore a tan sport coat, a brown
turtleneck sweater, gray slacks, and he was holding a bottle of
wine. He was also shifting back and forth from one foot to the
other as if he were nervous.

Or maybe he had to go to the bathroom.

She put on her brightest smile, undid the bolts, and opened the
door. "Clark! I'm glad you could be here on time. As if I
thought you'd be late! Or early."

She said to herself, You're babbling, Lane! Shut up! "Come on
in. Dinner's almost ready."

He handed her the bottle. "I brought something for us for later,
if you'd like."

"Sure! Let me put this in some ice to keep it cold."

She put the bottle into a small bucket and poured ice cubes
around it. While she did, she wondered if Clark felt as awkward
as she did. If he did, maybe he'd explain why she felt that
way.

Clark's voice from the dining room startled her. "What's for
dinner tonight?"

She calmed herself. "Chicken parmesan and tossed salad. I
thought I'd keep it simple tonight."

"Sounds good. Smells good, too. Need any help?"

She opened her mouth to decline, then reconsidered. "Sure. You
can get the chicken out of the oven. That way I know I won't
burn myself."

"Okay."

Lois was puzzled. His voice didn't seem to have any charge, any
juice, any humor or enjoyment in it. On one hand, she hoped it
wasn't something she'd done, but on the other, she hoped she had
done something so she could fix it.

"Clark, would you like the wine with dinner or after?"

"After is fine, if that's what you prefer."

"I'll pour some iced tea, then."

"Iced tea?" His voice finally sounded alive, albeit only
slightly. "Since when do you drink iced tea?"

"Since your mother introduced me to it. I have since learned
that the tea I drank the first time I visited Smallville with
you wasn't made especially for me. It was what she usually
makes, and I've learned to like it. I even bought a sun tea
brewing pitcher. I just drop the water and sweetener and tea
bags in and put it on my balcony." She carried the salad and
dressing to the table. "Works better in summer than in winter,
but I can use it whenever the sun shines."

Clark looked at her with a hint of laughter in his eyes. "That's
the Lois Lane I remember."

"What?"

"It was refreshing, that's all."

"What was refreshing?"

"A little bit of babble."

"I was not babbling!"

He cracked a smile. "No, not really, but you were holding up
your end of the conversation quite well."

She quirked her mouth back at him. "Well, is there a problem
with that?"

"Not at all. I just didn't realize how much I missed it until
now."

She started to reply and the phone rang. She grunted and stared
at it as if daring the instrument to ring again.

It took her dare. She ripped the receiver off the hook and said,
"This better be important."

There was a moment of silence, then her mother said, "Lois? Are
you okay?"

"Duh! Mom, I'm sorry, I thought it was someone from work."

"I would hope talking to your mother would be a privilege and
not a chore."

Lois sighed. "Normally it is, Mom, really, but I have company
for dinner tonight."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't know. Can you call me back when you
have some spare time?"

"Sure. Can you tell me what this is about?"

"Except that it's not bad news, no. And it's not that urgent
either, so don't trip on your guests to call me back."

"Okay, Mom, I won't. Tonight's Thursday, so I'll get back to
you, oh, before Sunday for sure. Is that soon enough?"

Ellen chuckled warmly. "Of course, dear. Like I said, it's not
urgent. We'll talk later. You have a good time, okay? Love you.
Bye for now."

"Love you too, Mom. Bye."

She turned as she hung up and saw Clark watching her with raised
eyebrows. "What's wrong, Clark?"

He shook his head. "I've missed a lot in the past three years.
Do you get along with your father, too?"

"How do you - never mind, I forgot about your hearing gizmo.
Yes, my dad and I speak on a semi-regular basis and we don't
argue. And so you'll know, they're still divorced but they're
getting along better than they have in years. Mom is seeing a
very nice man who's a patent lawyer, and they may be serious. In
fact, that may be what she called about." Lois ducked her head
and smiled. "I never thought I'd think this way, but they make a
nice couple."

"I thought you told me your folks were back together."

She shook her head. "I thought they were, but they were just
working together. They left that project about the time you and
I were at your parents' farm a few weeks ago. They both told me
that they don't dislike each other, they simply don't want to be
married to each other."

"What does your father think about that?" His face dropped as
she looked up. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"You're not prying, Clark, you're just making conversation. I'm
not upset." She shrugged. "He's actually okay with it. He told
me last Christmas that if Mom can't be happy with him, she ought
to be with a man who can make her happy." She kept talking as
she brought the glasses and the tea pitcher to the table. "Dad
finally seems to have stopped chasing his interns. He's working
for a subsidiary of Star Labs in Florida now, doing research on
the feeding and migratory patterns of seagoing mammals as
related to their general health and feeding habits."

"Really? That's kind of a different field for him, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. He's going to be published this winter in some
terribly important scientific journal. He's really gaga about
it, too. I think he's found his niche at last."

"That's good to hear." He hesitated. "How about you?"

She turned and gave him an intensely casual look. "How about me
what?"

"Have you found your niche?"

She frowned. Tonight was supposed to be about the two of them as
a couple, not either one as an individual. How had they gotten
on this subject? "I think so. I enjoy being editor, more than I
would have thought a few years ago. That short stint at the
Standard whetted my appetite for it, and when Perry offered to
hire me back as his assistant, it really hit the spot." She
motioned for him to sit down and then took her own chair.
"Besides, I'm getting a little old to be dangling myself over
the jaws of death on a regular basis."

He canted his head to one side as he selected a chicken breast
and deftly slid it onto his plate. "You're not old, Lois. You're
what, thirty, thirty-one?"

He didn't remember, not really. She tried to hide her
disappointment. "Thirty-two on my next birthday."

He nodded. "See? That's not old. And you're keeping up with your
martial arts, aren't you?"

"Yes. I passed my fourth degree black belt test this past
spring. My sensei has me help out with the women's self-defense
classes when I can make the time."

"That's great, Lois. I bet there's not a reporter at any paper
in Metropolis who could take you hand-to-hand. You can still
take care of yourself."

She frowned. "Maybe so, but I'm a little too old to take guns
away from assassins or sneak through a broken window into a
warehouse to burgle a file cabinet or sit in a car on an
all-night stakeout on a regular basis."

She stopped to take a breath. "Now I'm the one who tells the
young ones to watch their steps and bring back the story and not
make me update and print their obituaries."

He nodded. "Sounds like the kinds of things Perry used to say."

"I'm in charge, Clark. It's me who sits up and worries about
them now."

He silently offered to trade the plate of chicken for the salad
bowl and she complied. "Hey, I'm just making conversation here,
remember?"

"I know. I'm sorry if I sounded upset." She sighed. "Sometimes I
just feel old, that's all."

"You're younger than Ron."

She gave him an eyebrow. "What? Where did that come from?"

"Wasn't Ron the guy in your office yesterday afternoon? Before
we went to the courthouse."

She frowned in thought. "Oh. Yeah, that was Ron. What about
him?"

"He seems like a nice guy."

She hesitated, wondering where Clark was going with this. "He
is. He came over from the Standard about four months after Perry
hired me back as associate editor. He's been a big help to me,
and he's a very good reporter."

"I know. I've read some of his stuff." Clark played with his
salad for a moment. "He's at least as good as I used to be, if
not better."

"You're still that good, Clark. You just have to get back into
the swing of things."

He shook his head. "I dunno. I've been writing, sure, but not
investigating. I don't know if I have the skills for it any
more."

"You could do it if you wanted to."

He looked at her. He wasn't smiling. "Is that career advice or a
job offer?"

Now she understood. She hadn't intended to talk about his
working for the Planet again - and working for her - so soon,
but apparently he had. "It's encouragement. I know you can do
the job. All you'd have to do is say the word and the Planet
would take you back so fast even your head would spin."

Instead of acting pleased by the compliment, he simply nodded
once and returned to his meal.

Lois decided to change the subject. "Have you found a lawyer
yet?"

"I think so. I met with a woman named Constance Hunter this
afternoon. She had an urgent appointment with another client
today, so I'm going to talk to her again tomorrow. She said she
doesn't take court cases any more, but the other attorneys I
spoke with today are all gung-ho take-no-prisoners
stomp-their-faces-flat type of people. I don't want that kind of
legal representation."

She hesitated, thinking that her next question ought to be
innocuous, but her journalistic reflexes beat her brain to her
mouth. "But don't you want to win at any cost?"

He stopped his fork and leaned back, apparently surprised. "No,
Lois. I don't want to win at any cost."

She closed her eyes and called herself several rude names. "I'm
sorry, Clark, I guess my mouth wrote another bad check."

He didn't smile at the weak joke. He also didn't let it slide.
"Of all people, Lois Lane, I'd expect you to understand that
Superman can't simply win this case. He has to be perceived as
not guilty by the public, not just be acquitted on a
technicality. He's got to recover his reputation and win back
the trust of the people. That won't happen if he has a tiger
shark for a lawyer."

She nodded slowly. "I do understand, Clark, but I've got a stake
in this too. If you go to prison, you take my heart with you."

He stopped again, but this time he looked stricken. She mentally
called up a few more choice appellations for herself. Despite
her plans for a quiet, relaxed dinner with the man she loved,
circumstances - and her own lack of verbal control - seemed
determined to defeat her.

He reached out and touched her wrist. "I'm sorry, Lois. I - kind
of forgot about that part of it. I've been selfish, been focused
too much on my own situation. Please forgive me."

Her heart melted a little. "Of course, Clark. I understand.
You've been under a lot of stress lately, and it's probably not
going to let up any time soon." She tried for a pixyish look. "
And you're still referring to Superman as a totally separate
person, too. Don't you think it's time to put the two of you
together? After all, Superman wouldn't be who he is without
you."

His eyes widened and he stared at her. "Clark Kent is who I am.
Superman is what I do. We're not really the same person. In
fact, Superman is not even a real person. He's just me in
brightly-colored underwear and a cape."

She propped her elbows on either side of her plate and settled
her chin on the backs of her hands. "I know that's how you look
at it. But the hero persona, Superman, is just an extension of
the real person, Clark Kent. He's not a separate individual,
just like Lois Lane the editor is not a separate individual from
Lois Lane the cook. It's simply another role in my life that I
fulfill." She sighed and stared into his eyes. "You're not as
different from the rest of us as you think."

He didn't answer, but began cutting and eating his chicken.
After he finished the meat, he said, "I read your editorial this
morning. You really laid into the DA."

She swallowed and took a sip of tea. "He had it coming. Nobody
attacks Superman on my watch and gets away with it."

He put his silverware down and leaned back in the chair.
"Superman isn't above the law, Lois. I'm not above the law."

"I didn't mean that you were, Clark. What I wrote was that
Reisman's predecessor didn't go after Intergang three or four
years ago when doing so might have stopped a lot of the
bloodshed. Instead of making up for that oversight - which I
also made clear wasn't his fault in any way - Reisman is chasing
a hero who has saved more lives and prevented more crime than
any police or fire department in any city in the nation. It's a
waste of the taxpayer's money and squanders resources which
could be better used to prevent real crime."

He sighed again. "I'm in the same position any other citizen
would be in who gave in to a fit of rage and killed someone.
What I did was against the law and I deserve to be tried and
judged by a jury of my peers."

She put her own silverware down - less gently than Clark had -
and slid her chair back. "How are we going to find twelve
superheroes to judge you? Batman doesn't live in this
jurisdiction, Wonder Woman would laugh and just walk out, who
knows what the Flash would do if - "

"Lois! The DA is doing the best he can. Cut him some slack,
okay?"

She bit back a caustic retort and realized that they were
arguing. It was the last thing she'd wanted to do tonight.
Dinner was just about over and all they had done was disagree
over and over.

She pushed back from the table and stood. "Maybe we should open
the wine."

He frowned. "Maybe I should just go, Lois. I haven't been a very
good guest tonight and I'm sorry." He waved ineffectually and
stood without looking at her. "I should go."

She checked her first, angry response, and stepped closer to
him. "Not before I apologize to you. I haven't said the most
important thing on my mind yet, and I should have said it the
moment you came in."

He met her gaze. "What's that?"

"I love you." She slipped her arms around his chest and pressed
herself close against his shirt. "Please don't forget it, please
don't doubt it. I love you, Clark."

He folded his arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of
her head. "I love you, too. I should have said it first."

She smiled through the dampness in her eyes. "Why, because
you're the man?"

She could feel his return smile. "No. Because I love you more."

She leaned back and caressed his cheek. "But I've waited for you
for years. Doesn't that mean I love you more?"

He grinned wider and kissed the tip of her nose. "No. It means I
love you for loving me so patiently, even when I didn't deserve
it, so no matter how much you love me it only means that I'll
love you even more."

She tugged his face to hers and kissed him gently. "This isn't a
contest, Clark, it's our lives."

"True, but no matter which of us wins, I come out on top."

She giggled and put her palm on his chest. "No, I'm on top.
Don't you remember? That first day, when I told you that I was
top banana?"

They shared a rueful chuckle, and Clark stroked Lois's hair.
"You win. Again."

"Don't I always?"

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "You know, I think we should
open that wine after all."

*****

They finally made it to the easy small talk Lois had envisioned
for their time together. Lois filled him in on Clay and
Catharine, how they still seemed more than happy with each
other, and how well Jim Olsen was fulfilling his
responsibilities as photo editor. Clark repeated some
embarrassing gossip about Smallville's new county sheriff and
his difficulty in driving below the speed limit, that Maisie
from the cafe was being courted by the widowed pastor of
Smallville's Methodist congregation, and that former sheriff
Rachel Harris had taken a position with the Kansas State Highway
Patrol.

Lois lifted her glass and saw that it was empty. "Oops. I drank
all of mine. You want a refill?"

"Sure. We'll get blitzed together."

She laughed as she stood. "You can't get drunk and two glasses
of wine won't affect me noticeably."

"Well, if you can't get rip-roaring drunk with the woman you
love, who can you get rip-roaring drunk with?"

She laughed again as she walked to the kitchen. As she poured
the wine, she thought about suggesting that Clark write some
pieces about the trial for the Planet. Maybe even a couple of
interviews with Superman. He didn't need the money, but she
thought he needed the work.

She handed him his glass and offered a small toast. "Here's to
love. Specifically, to our love."

He smiled and tapped his glass to hers. "I can certainly drink
to that."

He put her glass down and sat down beside him on the couch. "Can
I make a suggestion?"

He leaned close and smiled warmly. "Of course you can."

"Not that kind of suggestion!"

"Oh." He leaned away and crossed his arms.

"What are you doing now?"

"I'm pouting. Can't you tell?"

"You're not very good at it."

"I'm doing my best!"

"Maybe I can help. Push your lower lip out." He did so. "No,
more than that. It needs to curl down towards your chest."

He did his best. "Good boy. Now duck your head down."

He complied and she tried to stifle a giggle. "Hunch your
shoulders up and together. That's it. You've got it, Clark! Now
you're pouting."

"You sure this isn't just a bad Nixon impersonation?"

She pointed at him with her index finger. "Pout, Mr. Kent!"

He sat there in his pout pose for almost ten seconds before Lois
lost control of her giggle. He was infected almost immediately,
and the giggles mutated into huge belly laughs before either of
them knew what was happening.

Lois slid off the couch onto the floor. Clark followed her a
moment later. Somehow they ended up lying on the floor, heads
together and feet pointed in opposite directions.

After a few minutes their laughter fit ended and they smiled
warmly at each other from the carpet. Lois reached out and
captured his face for a long upside-down kiss. He didn't resist.
In fact, he cooperated whole-heartedly.

She finally pulled back and sighed, then propped herself on one
elbow and rested her head on her hand. "That was a very
effective pout."

They shared another laugh. "I'll have to remember how to do
that. Might come in handy in the future."

She stroked his forehead and smoothed away some slight wrinkles.
"You'll have to save it for special occasions. I don't think
that kind of behavior is appropriate for the newsroom."

His eyes popped open and he quickly turned to face her. "The
newsroom? What are you talking about?"

She chuckled and brushed his cheek with the back of her hand.
"You coming back to work, silly."

He straightened and leaned slightly away from her. "I have a
job, thank you very much."

"You mean the romance novels? You can still write them. Heck,
you could grind one of those out in a couple of weeks. It's
formula stuff, just get a template and fill in the blanks and
wham, there's your romance novel. I'm talking about you doing
real writing and real reporting again. It would do you a world
of good."

He sat up. "Lois, I'm not sure I want to work at the Planet."

"What?" She rolled to her stomach and pushed up to her knees.
"What do you mean, you don't want to work at the Planet?"

He waved his hands. "It's like I said before, I don't know if I
can do investigative reporting any more. I'm not sure I want to.
I wouldn't mind writing some more serious stuff, longer articles
on a freelance basis, and maybe some non-fiction books, but I
don't know if reporting is what I want to do now."

Shocked, she reverted to `boss editor' mode. "You're out of your
mind! This is what you were born to do, Clark! You were one of
the best I've ever worked with, or that I've even heard about.
For that matter, you were one of the best Perry had ever seen!
He told me often enough!"

"Lois, I don't - "

"No! You need to get back in the groove and you need to do it
now! The longer you wait the more difficult it will be, and
despite being Superman you're not getting any younger!"

"But this is - "

"No, Clark!" She sat up, crossed her legs and then her arms, and
glared at him. "No objections, no discussion, this is what you
need to do!"

He stared at her, silent, until she broke eye contact. Then he
stood. "I'm not going back to work for the Daily Planet or any
other newspaper, Lois, at least not as an investigative
reporter. And after tonight, I doubt I'll be sending anything
new to the Planet."

She was stunned by his sudden mood swing. In complete disbelief,
she watched him walk to the front door and take his coat off the
rack. "I'll be in touch. I promised you Superman's exclusive
account of the trial, and I'll deliver it." He put on the coat
and stopped with his hand on the knob. "Maybe you should have
Ron interview Superman. Good night, Lois."

And he was gone.

*****

Catharine was leaning back and relaxing in her husband's arms on
the couch. Clay gently stroked her hair, caressed her cheeks,
and kissed her suggestively. Because of their inconsistent work
schedules, this was an evening of the sort they rarely got to
enjoy, so they were making the most of it.

She turned to face him, then kissed the hollow of his throat,
unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, and rubbed her
hands gently over his chest. He responded by crushing her gently
in a strong embrace and finding her lips with his. She moaned
slightly and arched closer to him -

And the phone rang.

She managed to pull herself away from him long enough to glance
at the oversized caller ID display on the wall above the phone.
She read the number, realized it wasn't the Daily Planet
calling, and turned back to give her husband her full attention.
She captured his tongue with her lips and -

And she suddenly realized that the number displayed was Lois's.
"Clay, baby, I'm sorry, Lois is calling."

He stopped, then heaved a huge sigh that wasn't all acting. She
got up and walked to the phone stand.

"Hello, this is Catharine. What? Lois, is that you? What's
wrong? What? He what? You what? No! Oh, Lois, no! Yes, I can -
"

She broke off and turned to Clay. "Honey, she really needs a
friend right now."

He clenched his jaw and nodded shortly. She said, "I'm sorry. I
can tell her `no' if you really want me to."

He hesitated, then shook his head. "Don't do that. Lois doesn't
call this late unless there's a good reason, and from what
little I heard it sounds like she needs a friend." He got up and
hugged her. "You go. I'll just sit in front of the refrigerator
for a few hours and cool off."

She smiled warmly and kissed him. "I'll make it up to you, I
promise." She lifted the phone again. "Lois? You hang loose,
girlfriend, I'll be there as quick as I can. Should I bring ice
cream? Oh. Well, leave some for me, okay?"

She hung up and turned to embrace her husband. "You are such a
darling man. I love you so much."

"And I love you too. Take a sweater, it's chilly tonight."

"I will. I promise not to be gone too long."

"And stop telling the guys at the precinct what a darling man I
am! It's embarrassing!"

*****

Catharine knocked on Lois's door, unsure of what she'd find.
She'd thought about stopping for ice cream or a box of
double-fudge crunch bars, but the thought of a distraught Lois
in her apartment with an open bottle of wine tipped the scales
towards the quickest possible trip.

There was no answer, so Catharine knocked a little harder. Still
no response. She rang the doorbell, which Lois hated but by the
conditions of her lease could neither remove nor replace. Lois
had once claimed it reminded her of Windsor Castle and the
stuffy English, so her friends and co-workers knew to knock.
This, however, qualified as an emergency.

Catharine reached for the doorbell once again, but stopped when
the door finally swung open. Lois was still fully dressed save
for being shoeless, but her eyes were slightly glazed and a bit
unfocused.

The worst part was the wineglass in her left hand and the nearly
empty wine bottle in her right.

Catharine slipped in and gave Lois a quick hug as she kicked the
door shut, trusting Lois's automatic bolts. Then she led her
friend to the couch, sat her down, took the bottle and glass,
and put them on the dining room table.

"Lois, I'm going to make some coffee, okay?"

Lois waved her hand distractedly. "Sure. Knock y'self out."

Catharine watched Lois while she prepared the coffeemaker. She
didn't want her friend to finish the wine before she drank
something to take the edge off the alcohol-induce haze she was
in.

While the coffeemaker blurped, Catharine sat down beside Lois
and took her hand. "Tell me what's wrong, Lois."

Lois only sniffled. Catharine took her hand. "You told me you
were going to have dinner with Clark tonight, didn't you?" A
nod. "Was he late?"

"N-no."

"Okay, did he not like what you had for dinner?"

"Liked it fine."

Catharine was beginning to worry. Even a full bottle of wine
shouldn't have slammed Lois that hard, not after a meal. "Lois,
did you and Clark have an argument?"

Lois lifted her eyes to Catharine's and dissolved into tears.
Catharine hugged her close and let her blow snot wherever she
wanted to.

Over Lois's shoulder, Catharine noticed another bottle sitting
upright on the floor beside Lois's trash can. An empty bottle.

An empty wine bottle. She looked closer and saw that the label
was a very good brand of French wine, but with a fairly high
alcohol content. She reached out and lifted the bottle that had
been in Lois's hand and checked the label. Again, it was good
California wine, but high in proof. She might as well be
drinking bourbon, Catharine thought.

Catharine pushed Lois away, just far enough to look at her.
"Lois. Lois! Listen to me. Did Clark bring a bottle of wine?"

Lois tried to wipe her nose and nodded.

"Did you already have a bottle here?"

Lois nodded again.

"Was your bottle already open?"

Lois stopped and looked at Catharine, then wailed, "Nooooo!"

Okay, Lois was really drunk. Coffee wouldn't help much.

She disengaged herself from Lois's grasp and hunted for the
largest glass in the kitchen cabinets. She filled it with water
and brought it back. "Lois, you need to drink this. Come on, big
sip, okay? Your head won't hurt quite as much tomorrow."

Lois managed to drink more than she spilled. Catharine grasped
her wrists pulled her upright. "Come on, boss lady, you have to
walk around a little, get some of that alcohol out of your
system. Come on, this way. That's it. We'll just take a couple
of laps around the living room and drink some more water."

Lois stumbled, then looked up at Catharine with a pleading
expression. "Pit stop?"

Oh, good, thought Catharine. "Sure, Lois, sure. We'll make a pit
stop."

*****

Catharine laid out a pair of pajamas and fresh underwear for
Lois, then went back in the bathroom to check on her. Lois was
still seated on the commode, but she was resting her arm on the
sink and looked ready to slide bonelessly onto the floor.

"Oh, no, you're not falling down in here. Sit up, that's it. Are
you done yet?"

Lois, her eyes closed, grinned up at her and nodded. "Yes,
momma. All done with tee-tee."

Catharine rolled her eyes. "Okay, let's get you ready for bed.
Come on, stand up, that's it."

"Wha' bout my pants?"

"I'll take care of them. Come with me."

""Kay."

At least Lois wasn't an angry drunk, she mused, although
reverting to toddler status wasn't all that much better.
Catharine helped Lois change her clothes as she half-listened to
Lois's disjointed recital of the night's events.

Then something stopped her. "Lois? What did you just say about
Superman?"

"Wha'? Oh. I dunno. Oh, yeah, he's gonna go free. Told him so."

"You told him? When was that?"

"Tonight."

Catharine frowned. "Superman was here? With you and Clark?"

Lois giggled. "Oh, yeah, all the time."

Catharine shook her head. "I wouldn't have thought you guys were
that kinky."

"Kinky? Nah! Just one guy. That's all I want, one guy. All I
love, one guy."

Catharine was afraid Lois was about to burst into tears. "Here,
Lois, you need to drink some more water."

"No! Not thirsty."

Catharine grabbed her chin. "If you don't drink some of this,
you'll be even sicker tomorrow than you're already going to be."
Lois stuck out her lower lip and tried to turn away. "I mean it.
Come on, Lois, drink some more."

"No."

"Lois - "

"Want some choc'late."

Catharine sighed. "You can have some tomorrow after lunch. As
much as you want."

Lois turned her head back to Catharine. "Promise?"

"I promise. Please, drink some of this?"

Lois stuck her lip out again, but said, "Okay." She took the
tumbler and gulped almost half of it, then gave it back.
"Better?"

"Much better. Are you sleepy now?"

Lois shook her head and leaned to one side. "Whoa. Not sleepy,
jus' a li'l dizzy."

"Don't shake your head."

"Okay, yeah, good advice." Lois felt behind her for her bed and
sat down on the edge. "Thanks."

"Hey, what are girlfriends for?"

A tear formed in the corner of Lois's eye. "Comfort when men let
you down."

Catharine sat down beside her and put her arm around Lois's
shoulders. "Hey! This is Clark Kent we're talking about. He's
the poster boy for reliable, remember?"

"No," she sniffed. "He's not."

"Sure he is! Don't you remember how you came back from
Smallville back in June all cheerful and bubbly because you and
Clark had connected again? You said yourself that it was the
best thing for both of you."

"I - hic - I wuz wrong."

Catharine lifted Lois's chin and looked into her eyes. "You
know, I think that's the wine talking. I'd much rather talk to
Lois, but you're going to have to sleep this off first."
Catharine stood and guided Lois to a horizontal position. "I'll
stay here until you go to sleep, okay?"

Lois whimpered for a moment, then muttered, "Okay."

Catharine maneuvered Lois's feet under the sheet and pulled the
covers up to her shoulders. "Good night, boss lady. I'll tell
them you'll be in late tomorrow."

Lois reached out and grabbed Catharine's hand. "Thank you."

Catharine smiled and brushed the hair back from Lois's face.
"You're more than welcome."

They sat still for a few moments, then Lois said, "Gotta call
Mom tomorrow. Thank her, too." She took a deep breath and blew
it out. "I don't know what I'll do if he goes to prison. Don't
know what I'll do. Love him too much. Don't know - "

"Lois?" Catharine was puzzled. "Are you saying you're in love
with Superman?"

"Yeah. No." Lois curled into a ball, still holding Cat's hand.
"Don't want Clark in prison! Don't go, Clark! Please don't go!"
She began to cry quietly.

Catharine sat beside her friend, making reassuring noises until
she was sure Lois was asleep. Sure enough, disengaging her hand
didn't affect Lois's breathing in the least.

Catharine made sure the path to the bathroom was clear and that
Lois's clothes were in her laundry hamper. Then she turned off
Lois's alarm clock and wrote a brief lipstick note on the mirror
to let her know what had happened. Then she pulled the bathroom
door almost closed and left the light on as a nightlight.

She gathered her sweater and purse, then studied Lois's locks so
she wouldn't leave the door unsecured. She was about to
experiment when a soft tap sounded in front of her.

She peeked through the spyhole and saw Clark fidgeting in the
hall. She wrestled with the locks until the door opened, then
Clark lurched in and grabbed her arms.

"Lois, please listen to - Catharine!"

"Yes." She stood still, locked in his grip. "Uh, Clark? Can I
have my arms back?"

"What? Oh!" He let her go so quickly she almost lost her
balance. "I - I'm sorry. I was hoping - Lois?"

"She got thirsty and drank the wine you left."

"Oh."

"Then she was still thirsty and drank most of the wine she'd
bought for tonight."

Clark's eyes grew wide behind his glasses. "Oh, no."

"Oh, yes. She's down for the count, I'm afraid, so whatever you
wanted to say to her will have to wait until morning."

He nodded. "I'll wait."

Her eyebrows rose. "Here? You're going to wait - here?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Clark, honey, I don't know if that's such a good idea.
She's pretty smashed, and she's not going to make it to work on
time tomorrow."

His voice was firm as diamond and almost as sharp. "I'll wait."

She looked into his eyes and saw determination. "Okay. It's your
funeral."

He turned and muttered, "Maybe so."

"Well, good night." She reached for the doorknob and hesitated.
"Clark, was Superman here tonight?"

"Superman? Here?" He was more surprised than she thought he
should have been. "No, no, he, uh, he wasn't here. Why do you
ask?"

"Oh, something Lois said from deep in the state of inebriation.
I think she's got you and Superman mixed up in her mind, or she
did before she fell asleep."

"How so?"

His sharp tone surprised her. "She said she didn't know what
she'd do if you went to prison. Not Superman. You."

He nodded and turned away. She looked closer. "Clark? Are you in
trouble with the law too?" He didn't answer. "Is there something
you'd like to tell me?"

His head snapped towards her and he stiffened. "Yes, actually,
there is, but now isn't the time."

She held his gaze for a long moment, then she nodded. "Okay.
We'll talk soon, though, won't we?"

He nodded. "We'll talk, I promise."

"Good. I've got to get home. If you see Superman, tell him I
wish him luck on the trial."

He grinned lopsidedly. "I'll tell him. Good night, Catharine.
And thanks for coming over and taking care of Lois."

She paused in the doorway and poked him in the chest with her
index finger. "That's your job from now on, mister. Don't make
me remind you again." She opened the door. "Speaking of
reminding, I have to get home to my man and remind him how much
he loves me."


Rebuilding Superman

Chapter Four

>>> Friday, August 23rd

Clark had put away the dishes from Lois's dishwasher, finished
dusting the apartment for the second time, and vacuumed under
her sofa and loveseat when he looked up and saw Lois standing in
the doorway to her bedroom. She was wearing the striped pajamas
Catharine had helped her put on the night before. Lois raked a
hand through her disheveled hair and stared at him with eyes
which refused to focus.

"Clark? That you?"

"Yep. It's just little old me."

She turned and looked at the window. "What time is it?"

"A little past ten."

Her eyes widened and she took a quick step forward, but then
grabbed her head with both hands and came to an abrupt stop.
"Okay. Little steps. Slow steps." She made it to the sofa and
sank down slowly. "Mind telling me why you're here?"

He sat down across from her. "I came back to apologize, but I
was too - you were already asleep."

"You came back to apologize?" He nodded. "I accept. You can go
now."

"Lois, please! Let me - "

"Shh!" She winced. "Not so loud!"

He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "I'm sorry."

She slowly opened her eyes and looked around cautiously. "The
place looks great." She blinked a couple of times. "I think."

He looked at his shoes. "I, uh, got bored. I did some
cleaning."

"Wonderful. `Super-maid for hire.' New sideline for you."

He refused to respond. "Catharine was here when I got back last
night. She said she'd cover for you at the office."

Lois rubbed her temples. "Yeah, I read the note. I'll have to
let her know that a lipstick note on the mirror is not what I
needed first thing this morning."

"Really?"

She opened her eyes and tried to focus on his face again. This
try was somewhat more successful. "Yes, really. For a couple of
seconds I thought I was in that horror movie I saw last month,
the one where the death warning appears to the next victim in
the bathroom mirror."

He shrugged. "I guess I missed that one."

"Don't worry, you didn't miss much." She leaned back and closed
her eyes. "I don't suppose you have a sure-fire hangover cure on
you?"

"What about some food?"

She made a face, then waggled her hand. "Yeah, something light
and simple. Chocolate? Why am I thinking about chocolate?"

Clark frowned. "Maybe later, but not right now. Anything else
tickle your fancy?"

Lois rubbed her hand over her face. "I can't remember what's in
the kitchen. Oatmeal, maybe?"

He stood. "Oatmeal it is. You have some here or should I go get
it?"

She pointed in the general direction of the kitchen. "Assuming I
have any, it's on the top shelf of the cabinet to the left of
the stove. Check the expiration date."

He headed off on his mission. "And put lots of brown sugar on
top. I need the energy today."

*****

She put down the spoon and drained the last of the orange juice.
Clark picked up the bowl and glass and headed for the kitchen.
"Feel better now?"

She nodded. "A bit. I need to get to the office. Hope you don't
mind."

"Actually, I called Catharine this morning around eight to touch
base with her about that. She told me - loudly enough for anyone
in the building to overhear - that you were feeling under the
weather and had taken some pretty strong antihistamines that had
knocked you for a loop, so you'd be late coming in today.
Probably some time after noon."

She sighed. "I was wondering what my cover story would be.
Anything else come up?"

She heard him washing her breakfast dishes at breakneck speed.
"Yes, actually. She said to tell you that the page six
advertisers were thrilled to be on the same page as the story of
Superman's love child. She also said - "

"Superman's WHAT?"

He walked out of the kitchen, grinning. "It's okay. She was
kidding."

"Kidding! I'll - oww!" She grabbed her temples. "Headache still
there."

"She also made me promise to tell her how high you jumped when
you heard it."

"Oh." She lowered her hands and managed a very slight grin.
"Maybe you could give me that exclusive, too."

"Sorry, Lois, no story there."

She reached out and lightly grasped his turtleneck sweater. "I
wasn't talking about a story."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Oh? What were you talking about?"

She pulled his face towards hers. "A different kind of
exclusive."

He put his hands on her waist and let her close the kiss. After
a long moment, he pulled back gently. "I thought you were mad at
me."

"You apologized, remember? And I accepted."

"Yes." He held her back from a second kiss. "Wait. We need to
get something straight before we go any farther."

She pulled back but didn't release his sweater. "Okay."

He took a deep breath and let it out. "I don't think I can work
for you, Lois. I mean, I'd probably enjoy reporting again, I
think you were right about that, but I don't believe I'd enjoy
having you as my editor."

Her face smoothed and she let go of him. "Oh." She slowly turned
and sat down on the couch again. "I see."

He sat across from her again. "No, I don't think you do. I don't
think I could take direction from you very well. You're a good
editor, Lois, a very good editor, but I don't think we'd agree
very often on what my assignments would be. And it wouldn't look
good for the editor and one of the reporters to have a - a
relationship together. The other reporters might feel that I'm
either getting all the best stories or all the creampuff pieces.
And as Superman I'd have an unfair advantage over the others. I
could get leads no one else could get, I'd never be in real
danger, I'd never miss a deadline - "

Her voice was flat and emotionless. "You did all that before and
it didn't seem to bother you."

He sighed again. "That was then, this is now. This isn't about
you, Lois, it's about me. It's my problem, not yours. You're not
at fault here."

"I see." She sat back and looked at the wall. "Is that why you
got so upset last night?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have reacted like I did. But I
didn't think you were going to listen to me just then."

She nodded. "Probably not." She stood and started for the
bedroom. "I need a shower and a change of clothes. You want to
wait and go in to the office with me?"

He hesitated. She slowed and stopped, then turned to face him.
"Clark, you don't have to if you don't want to. I'm not trying
to put any pressure on you, honest."

He crossed his arms loosely. "Thanks. I'd really prefer not to
go back to the Planet, at least not yet. Being in your office
the other day was tough enough."

She nodded. "Will you wait here until I get cleaned up?"

"Sure. I'll have to go and run some errands soon, though."

"Okay. When will I see you again?"

He frowned in thought. "How about lunch tomorrow? My treat this
time."

She smiled slightly. "Sounds good. Pick me up here at
twelve-thirty?"

"On the dot."

*****

Superman scanned the attorney's office with his X-ray vision. He
saw Constance Hunter sitting at her desk writing, but no other
people were in the office, not even her receptionist. She was
probably out to lunch, like most of the building's occupants. He
landed on the roof and floated down the stairwell to the correct
floor.

He'd forgotten to look through the wall to the hall. A young
woman was standing outside another office smoking a cigarette
when he entered the hallway. She glanced up when she heard the
door open, then did a classic double-take at the sight of the
blue-and-red-and-yellow-clad hero striding along the passageway.
She gasped, dropped her smoke, and sprinted to the ladies' room.
The click of the lock echoed in the sparse hallway.

Superman shook his head and hoped she wasn't afraid of him, that
he'd merely startled her. Or maybe she thought he was some kind
of kinky pervert.

That last thought made him smile. He knocked on the attorney's
door and waited.

Constance Hunter opened the door and smiled. "Thank you for
coming, Superman. I'm sorry about putting you off yesterday, but
I had a court appearance on a civil matter that I couldn't
postpone any longer."

"I understand, Ms. Hunter. I hope you've had an opportunity to
think about my request since then, too."

"I have. And I still say that I'm not the person you want. I
haven't defended a criminal case for almost ten years and I'm
more than a little out of practice. You probably need more
aggressive counsel than I could provide, anyway."

He struck a pose and crossed his arms. "No, I don't think I do.
The other attorneys I spoke to yesterday were more interested in
winning the case than in finding the truth. I don't want to be
represented by someone like that."

She matched his pose and stared up into his eyes. "You want to
win, don't you?"

"That's the desired outcome, sure, but ultimately I want justice
to be done."

She canted her head to one side. "Really?"

"Yes. Really."

She nodded and wandered behind her desk. "You surprise me,
Superman."

"How so?"

"I would have expected you to insist I get you off so you could
fight crime and save lives."

He dropped his arms and seemed to shrink in on himself slightly.
"Ms. Hunter, I can't get off on a technicality. I can't be freed
because of what I've done in the past or what I intend to do in
the future. I can't allow myself to use an unethical legal
tactic to win. In order to keep being Superman, I've got to be
found not guilty of these charges on the basis of the law, not
the skill of my attorney. My reputation and my conscience both
require this of me." He leaned forward on the desk. "I still
think my best chance to win this case for the right reasons lies
with you. Please, please consider representing me."

She sat down and motioned for him to do the same. "Let me get
this straight. You'd rather go to jail than go free if that's
what the jury decides?"

"Yes."

She shook her head and chuckled. "Are you crazy?"

"Some might think so."

"But you don't?"

"No."

She leaned back and sighed. "Superman, our court system was
originally