Reversal of Fortune
by LaraMoon <laramoon@mac.com>
Rated: PG
Submitted: December 2006

~.~.~.~

Author's Note:

This is the "novel" that I wrote for NaNoWriMo
(www.nanowrimo.org) in November 2006. It's been polished a
little and edited slightly from the original version but not
lots. I've removed some of the pointless drivel that was in the
story so if you were to add up all the words in this story, it
might not come to 50,000 -- but the original version most
certainly does. I just went through it and took out parts that
would bore you guys to tears. *lol* (like the extra long
description of the house at the beginning... it was very well
written, but completely useless!) 

It is an "elseworld" story. What I did is I switched Clark and
Lex around. Of course, the good guy is still the good guy and
Clark is definitely still Superman. I just made Lex a small time
reporter (and Lois' partner... poor girl!) and made Clark a very
rich man. Hence the title, "Reversal of Fortune". Clever, no?
Lois is still Lois, because that's the way we like her.

As usual, you'll find a few references to movies/TV/comics and a
couple 'inside jokes' in this story. I'm geeky that way. ;) 
You'll find a list of them at the end of the file - just in case
you want to know what they were... although I'm sure you'll
probably see them all, right? ;)

Special thanks to everyone on the boards who's left comments as
I posted parts of this story. I'd just lost my job at the time
and your feedback cheered me up more than you'll ever know. You
guys are really the best! And many, many thanks to my GE, Tricia
who read through pages upon pages of this long and crazy tale,
fixed my silly little errors, taught me a few things on the
proper use of English and even gave me a few things to think
about for a sequel.

Disclaimer: The main characters in this story aren't all mine.
They belong to their respective creators/owners. No copyright
infringement is intended. I also borrowed a few lines from
movies (see end notes), but other than those, all the words are
mine. The idea is, too. 

I hope you enjoy reading this story!


~.~.~.~

I'm content to live in the vacuum I have made
A comfortable existence on my own
The problems of the world are there for others to debate
I prefer to face my days alone!

- "Skin Game" by Arena

~.~.~.~


~Reversal of Fortune~
by LaraMoon


The man took a quick look around the spot where he had landed.
He stood in a field sparsely covered with trees. He was relieved
to see that no one had noticed his arrival. They wouldn't have
understood how he was able to do that and they quite probably
would have run away screaming if they had noticed his arrival.
He definitely did not want to draw that much attention to
himself! It was best that no one see him and no one knew he was
here.

He walked the short distance that separated him from the little
paved road which led to the house he had set his sights upon.
There was no one around there either. This, however, was odd. He
had expected to see someone here. He was sure he'd gotten the
location right. But perhaps he'd gotten the time wrong, he
wondered? No matter, he thought. He was here now and he'd make
the most of this trip; look around, make sure that this place
was all that he had hoped.

After a few minutes of inspecting the surroundings, taking notes
and making observations, he knew that this was it. This was the
place. He had been searching for quite some time now. He'd found
other places elsewhere that were similar, but none were as
perfect as this one was. It had everything the man hoped for.
Every detail was just right and it offered possibilities that
none of the places he'd visited before had. Perhaps this time,
things would work out the way he hoped they would.

"It's just perfect!" he said, to no one in particular.

He rubbed his hands together and began planning his next move.

~.~.~.~

The creepy old mansion up on Eagle View Drive now had a new
owner. It had been empty and up for sale for ages; no one in
their right mind wanted to live there... well, not until a few
weeks ago.

No matter who you asked, everyone it seemed had a chilling tale
to tell about the house and why it had been empty for so long.
Everyone had a different version and the story usually ended
with accounts of ghosts or spirits having been seen roaming
around the property. As a result, most people didn't dare
venture anywhere near there. Even the squirrels kept away. But
the fact of the matter was that it was just an old house. It had
been uninhabited for the last twenty years and was pretty much
falling apart now, but that was basically all there was to tell
about the mansion. There wasn't anything there that was even
remotely chilling. Except maybe the occasional gust of wind that
came in through a crack in the wall...

The mansion stood on top of the small hill, at the end of Eagle
View Drive. A tall wrought-iron fence surrounded the property,
which consisted of the mansion itself and several acres of land.
Had the place been in better shape, it might have been the envy
of everyone living in the vicinity. But as it was, it stuck out
as a sore thumb and served only as the subject of scary stories
that parents told their children on Halloween.

When the residents of this nice little suburban town, on the
outskirts of Metropolis, had learned that the mansion would once
more be inhabited, their curiosity had been piqued. The new
owner had to be an outsider or they would never have been
interested in the house in the first place. The local people
would not have been caught dead anywhere near the place, let
alone going inside even for just a short tour of the mansion. So
obviously, whoever had bought it hadn't ever heard of these
stories. Come to think of it, considering the state of the
property, they probably hadn't seen the place before purchasing
it, either!

The real-estate agent had quickly earned himself quite a
reputation for selling the mansion. Selling a place that had
been unwanted and empty for twenty years was nothing short of a
miracle. However, the truth was that the house had pretty much
sold itself. When he'd gotten a call that Friday afternoon from
a woman asking if he would kindly show her around that property,
he had first thought it was a bad joke. But it wasn't and the
caller was dead serious. So, shaking away the thoughts of ghosts
and spirits, the agent had agreed to show her around. Barely ten
minutes into the visit, the woman had made an offer on the
mansion. An offer which happened to be well over the listing for
the property.

And so the mansion on Eagle View Drive had been sold. Roughly a
week later, the neighbors had noticed that the new owner had
moved in. It seemed to have happened all of the sudden... one
day the house was run down and empty and the next, the post-man
had seen a man moving furniture inside the place and he had been
astonished to realize just how many repairs seemed to have been
made in such a short amount of time.

For several days, everyone had tried to find out who had moved
in the mansion. It was the talk of the town. Women gossiped
about it at the supermarket. Men talked about it around the
water cooler at the office. Kids played guessing games in the
schoolyard. Everybody wanted to know! They'd seen a fairly
attractive woman in her early twenties go in and out of the
house. She barely ever left the grounds and had never been seen
in town. They knew from the real-estate agent that she was the
owner's personal assistant. That is all anyone knew at first.

And then, one day, the post-man had needed to deliver a letter
there. The first letter addressed to the new owner. This is how
they all found out who had bought the property. Suddenly
everything had made sense to everyone...

~.~.~.~

Clark Kent was a novelist. Extremely prolific and successful,
this made him a very rich novelist. Even before he had ever
started writing, he already had a considerable fortune.
According to Forbes Magazine, he was currently the third
wealthiest man in the world. He was also a very strange man.
Refusing to have contact with others, he'd been living as a
recluse for years. Other than that, no one seemed to know much
about him. Depending who you asked, he was either a middle-aged
man who'd lost his wife and had then turned away from the world,
or he was horribly deformed and hiding away from others for fear
of being ridiculed. What they did know for certain is that he
wrote the most amazing adventure novels. He could make you
believe that you were there in a way no other writer could. The
only other widely known fact about this man was that he gave
several millions of dollars every year to all manners of
charities. Perhaps, as the tabloids kept insinuating, his
generosity was a way of finding absolution for something he'd
done.

There were rumors about the young woman who served as his
personal assistant as well. They knew her name, but they had as
much information on her as they had on him. Although she wasn't
very old she had worked for him - or at the very least been with
him - for several years. There was much speculation regarding
the relationship that they shared. Some thought she was his
wife, perhaps his daughter. It didn't seem likely that he kept
her there against her will, for she always sounded cheerful on
the phone and people who had had dealings with her always said
that she looked friendly, even happy. Perhaps he was just paying
her very, very well.

When word spread that Clark Kent was the new owner of the
mansion on Eagle View Drive, most people had just shrugged. He
was rich and eccentric, wasn't he? And somehow, in a very weird
sort of way, it just made perfect sense that he would want to
live there. The man and the mansion were a perfect fit: they
both had a lot of mystery surrounding them, were the subject of
constant gossip and neither were especially welcoming to
visitors.

~.~.~.~

Lois Lane had been working for the Metropolis Star for almost a
year now. Fresh out of College, she'd barged right into Preston
Carpenter's office and had proceeded to explain to the publisher
why not hiring her would be the worst mistake he could ever
make. She had been hired on the spot, just as she imagined she
would. It was common knowledge that Carpenter liked women who
knew precisely what they wanted out of life and could articulate
it with assurance and certainty. Naturally, it also helped that
Lois had a nice long pair of legs, which the editor had most
definitely noticed.

The Star had actually been her second choice... Lois had first
tried her little stunt on Perry White, at the Daily Planet.
Unfortunately, the man had seemed as unimpressed by her physical
attributes as he had been by her rather original way to land a
job there. He'd simply raised an eyebrow at her and then had
launched into some completely off-topic story about Elvis
Presley and Colonel Parker. Lois had looked at the man as if he
had suddenly started speaking Mandarin and, excusing herself,
had left his office, abandoning her dream of ever working at the
Daily Planet. It might have been the top newspaper in
Metropolis, but their chief editor was obviously deranged and
she figured that unless she learned to do the Jailhouse Rock,
she had little or no chance of ever working there.

As far as she could remember, being a reporter was what Lois had
always dreamt of. It was the only thing she had ever seen
herself as doing. She was bright and inquisitive and from a very
early age, she'd spent all her free time investigating all sorts
of mysteries for the small newspaper she had created. From her
base of operations, in the basement of her parents’ home, Lois
did everything herself: she wrote the stories, took the
pictures, printed and even distributed the weekly publication.
Most of the stories weren't nearly as interesting as she would
have liked them to be - disappearing signposts or families
moving in and out of the neighborhood - but she prided herself
on the quality of her stories. None of them were fiction; they
weren't hearsay either. Every last word was the truth.
Painstakingly verified and researched, all of her facts would
easily have stood up in court.

So, even though her plans of working in the city's number one
newspaper hadn't worked out exactly as she had hoped, working at
the Star was still a wonderful opportunity. She was learning the
ropes there and she would move up eventually, she knew. Besides,
she needed the money and after spending so long at Metropolis
University learning everything there was to learn about how to
be a reporter, Lois Lane had been more than ready to spring into
action and be one. A real one.

Since she did not have any concrete experience on the field yet,
Lois had immediately been assigned to work with a more seasoned
reporter. When the idea had first been presented to her, it had
sounded like something perfectly acceptable. She'd viewed this
as a learning experience; she would have a mentor, someone to
show her how it was done. Besides, Lois had every confidence
that she would be able to fly solo soon enough. But this
partnership had turned out to be neither a pleasant thing, nor
anything she could learn from. Worse yet, it was starting to
look as though she would be stuck with Lex Luthor for a very
long time. It had been almost a full year already and it seemed
as though her editor had no intention of splitting the team
apart any time soon.

The thought of being stuck with a partner for the rest of her
career made her cringe. Even worse, the thought of being stuck
with Lex Luthor for a partner for the rest of her career made
her want to quit.

As much as she tried, Lois just couldn't shake the idea that Lex
Luthor wasn't who he appeared to be. He would sometimes
disappear for long periods of time - without any explanations -
leaving her to cover for him and basically do all the legwork
herself. He would always show up again right in time to write
the article and share the byline, though. Lois didn't know where
he went or what he did while he was gone, but her gut feeling
was that the man was up to no good. There was just something
about him that seemed off in a way. He was a good-looking guy
and God knows he could have charmed the pants off just about
anyone - he probably did, too! He wasn't stupid either, which as
far as reporters went made him a fairly decent one although she
guessed he was pretty much on his decline by now. But there was
something about this man that just didn't click. Of course, it
didn't help that pretty much everything the man did rubbed her
the wrong way, but it wasn't just about that or even about her
for that matter. Unfortunately, no matter how strong her gut
feeling was about him, Lois couldn't prove anything... In any
event, she'd stopped looking for skeletons in Lex Luthor's
closet very early on; when she had understood that anything she
did to threaten his reputation would reflect badly on herself
and possibly tarnish her own reputation. She would keep working
with him as long as she had too, but not a second more.

When she had heard that Clark Kent had recently moved right
outside of Metropolis, Lois had seen this as an opportunity to
advance in her career. She was going to land herself a one on
one interview with this man. She knew that no one had ever been
able to achieve this, so it would prove to be as much a
challenge as it would be an achievement. People barely knew
anything about him... Clark Kent's novels did not come with a
picture and a few lines from his biography printed on their back
covers. He didn't do tours or book-signings and he most
definitely did not go on talk shows to discuss his novels. He
probably didn't even answer his phone or his own mail... he had
a personal assistant for these things, anyway. Lois was just
about convinced that he hadn't even spoken to another soul
outside his assistant for years. While she knew that trying to
get an exclusive interview with this man was setting the bar
pretty high for herself, Lois also knew that the rewards that
could come from it would be worth the effort. She'd definitely
get out of that partnership with Luthor and earn herself a
promotion. It might even be worth a Pulitzer Prize!

No matter how long it was going to take to get there and no
matter what the cost in time and effort, Lois Lane was going to
do everything in her power to meet Clark Kent. Her future
depended on it and she was not going to let such an opportunity
for recognition just slip through her fingers.

~.~.~.~

The first time she'd called to try and set up an interview, Lois
had played innocent on purpose. She knew full well that there
was no way she'd get to meet the man so easily! This was just a
way of finding out what his assistant was made of and being able
to gage the amount of effort necessary before the woman finally
caved. Obviously, it would take a lot more than just a few phone
calls and Lois was prepared to go the distance on this, but she
needed to first plan her "attack" meticulously so that she'd
achieve the desired results.

Lois had politely introduced herself and had asked whether or
not it would be possible to meet with the novelist. She'd tried
to be a sweet as she could manage. Sometimes, she knew, a smile
could go a long way. And while she was fully aware that she
wasn't going to get anywhere near the man this quickly, there
was no reason not to try and get some valuable information out
of the exchange anyway.

"I'm sorry, Miss Lane," the woman on the other end had told her
kindly. "Mr. Kent does not give interviews."

"He doesn't?" Lois had asked, feigning ignorance. "As in never?
To absolutely anyone?"

"That's correct. He never gives interviews. I'm very sorry..."

"I see... Well, would it perhaps be possible to get a copy of
his biography so that we may at least add these few details to
our article?"

Of course, there was no article. Not yet anyway. There would
definitely be one in the future, though, so it wasn't exactly a
lie...

"I can send you a list of all Mr. Kent's published novels, but
that is as much information as I am at liberty to give out," the
woman said, without even the simplest hint of regret in her
voice. "If there's a fax number I can send it to, I'd be more
than happy to do so."

Lois gave her the number and kindly thanked the woman before
hanging up. It wasn't much, for sure, but this list of novels
was the first - the only - real piece of information for her
file on Clark Kent. Besides, once she got the list she would be
able to pick a title that looked interesting and swing by the
library to borrow a copy of it. Lois didn't exactly have a very
active social life - work was her life - so she'd have plenty of
time to read at least one of his novels. This was an important
part of her research, after all. How could one interview a
writer about his work if they'd never read a single line of it?
And the last thing Lois was ever going to do was go in to
interview someone without the proper preparation.

Preparing for this interview might be only half the battle; it
was still going to take an awful lot of work. For one thing,
Lois knew as much about Clark Kent as she knew about making a
soufflé au fromage... Considering she barely knew how to make a
grilled-cheese sandwich, this placed her in the "even more
clueless than average" category. She knew of people who had read
his novels, but she wasn't one of them. She would remedy this,
though. She'd also have to spend some time searching through
microfilms and public records if she was going to be able to
find out anything about Clark Kent. Judging as though most
people really had no idea who the man was, other than the fact
that he wrote books, she knew that the information wasn't going
to come out and jump right in her face... she would have to dig
deep to get it and probably spend several week-ends pouring over
newspaper clippings and all manners of publicly available
records.

No matter.... Lois knew it would all be worth the effort in the
end.

~.~.~.~

Late that evening, Lois sat in bed with a copy of "Across the
Dunes" which she had gotten from the library. So much for
looking at the list and picking out the ones that had inspiring
titles... this was the only one that wasn't already on loan.
Lois hoped that didn't mean it was the worst! Then again, it was
one of the earliest ones, so it probably just meant that
everyone - except her! - had already read it.

It told the story of a man's journey - both emotional and
literal - as he crossed the Sahara Desert; from Khartoum in the
Sudan, all the way to the delta of the Nile River, in Egypt.
Definitely not something Lois would normally have read about,
but it sounded interesting enough. Hopefully there was more to
it than just the recounting of a motorcycle ride from one
location to the other, with some stops along the way. There had
to be or this novel would never have made it to the
best-seller's list, no matter who the author was. At least, Lois
was pretty sure that people didn't just go out and buy strictly
any book that had the man's name printed in bold across the
front page. Did they?

She opened up the first page and noticed there was a dedication.
"For Lana," it said. Lois scratched her head for a second...
she'd heard that name before. Ah yes, she'd read it on the fax
that she'd gotten from the author's assistant. The note that
came attached to it was signed Lana Lang. Lois wondered if this
meant that she was more to him than just his assistant. For all
she knew, she could be his wife maybe even his daughter. Lois
grabbed her notepad and jotted this information down. It wasn't
much of a clue, but something she could ask about when she spoke
to Ms. Lang, next time. Because there was going to be a next
time, of course.

Lois turned to the next page and started to read.


~excerpt from "Across the Dunes"~


As I prepare to leave Khartoum, I am overcome by a familiar
feeling of loss. It's the same old feeling that always reaches
in and tightens around my heart; darkness and despair once again
flooding through my veins.

Sudan has been my home for the last months; a home that I am now
forced to leave behind. Knowing that I shall never return almost
makes it too hard for me to go. But I must and so I do.

I gather the few things I own and stuff them in the battered
backpack that I've been carrying with me around the world these
last few years. The feel of the worn canvas material under my
fingers brings back memories of all the places this bag and I
have seen. Its many quickly repaired tears remind me of all the
adventures we've had; its wear marks, of all the times I thought
I'd finally found a place to settle down for good.

I too bear wear marks, but you would not see them on my skin...
they run deep in my heart and soul. Every single home I've had
to flee; every single person I've had to leave behind, friends
and loved ones alike; every heart wrenching goodbye has left
scars which I fear will never fully heal.

The realization that I do not - and probably never will - fit in
anywhere brings with it the same old pain that I still have not
learned to live with. A pain I hope, foolishly perhaps, that I
will never experience again every time I put down my backpack
and start calling a new town "home". You would think by now I
would have learned my lesson and stopped being so optimistic,
but I cannot - I will not - let myself become jaded. Should that
ever happen, should I ever lose faith, then this is when I shall
settle down to die. Where there is no hope left, there can be no
life.

I pick up my notebook, the one where I've written down accounts
of all the places I've seen over the years. It's so old, it's a
wonder it still holds in one piece. I open it to a random page.
I like doing this; it contains so many fascinating tales which I
have heard from all the people I've met. They are like precious
gems that I've been entrusted with. I read them often so that I
may never forget.

A picture falls out of the notebook and lands onto the floor. A
pretty young girl in a school uniform looks up from it with sad
emerald eyes. In the picture, she's twelve. It's the most recent
image I have of her although she's fourteen now. Tears rush to
my eyes as I pick the photograph up from the dusty carpet. I've
left her behind in a boarding school in London. My life is too
complicated for her... She would not be able to survive the
emotional hardships, let alone the constant moving around. After
all this poor soul has had to endure in her young life, she
needs to have some sort of stability. In London, she has people
around to take care of her when she needs them; friends to be
with, to confide in. People whom she can, in time, start
building a life and a future with. At first I told myself that
this was for the best. But the truth, as much as I hate to admit
it, is that I hate myself for leaving her there. I hate myself
for all the hurt I've ever caused her and pray that some day -
in another lifetime, I suppose - she may forgive my
foolishness.

I shake my head, attempting to empty it of the painful thoughts
that have started to creep up in there. I need to finish packing
and leave. Ali will be here soon; he's agreed to take me across
the White Nile to Omdurman. It's not very far from here, but I
don't fancy getting there on my own anyway. From Omdurman I'll
be headed north, to Egypt. I plan to follow the Nile all the way
to its delta and from there, I'm not sure yet. I have several
days of traveling before I reach it and besides, I could end up
staying somewhere else along the way. I never make any concrete
plans anymore... Plans have a nasty tendency of going awry on
me.

*~*

I've bought a motorcycle in Omdurman and am now on my way north
to Ed Damer. I plan to ride most of the way through the dunes of
the Sahara rather than using the main roads. It would have been
easier to travel through the desert on a camel I suppose, but if
I run into trouble... well, I can repair a motorbike. Camels,
I'm not sure I would know how to fix. Actually, I could have
chosen to travel any number of ways, but I don't especially want
to be noticed right now.

So, I've traded in what little money I had in my pockets for
this motorcycle. It's not in the best shape it's ever been, but
it'll do for now. Oh, it would have been easy for me to get some
more funds wired over here, but I'd rather no one be able to
pick up my trail for as long as I can manage.

Now here I am, under the scorching desert sun, soaring through
the dunes. On my way to Ed Damer, 300 km away from where I
started. I should be able to get there before nightfall, it's
really not that far, but I'm not traveling especially fast. I
have no one waiting for me; I have nothing but time. Spending
time on the road is quite welcome, anyway. It helps clear my
head; forget about these things which I do not care to remember
on days like today.

I've affixed a compass to the bike's handle bar. I still need to
stop for it to be able to show me precisely what direction I'm
headed in, but for the most part it helps me navigate well
enough so that I don't get lost. Everywhere you look, it all
seems the same: sandy dunes as far as the eye can see, merging
in with the bluest of skies at the horizon. It makes me wonder
how the Bedouins managed to cross the desert and still find
their way to where they were going. The mildest of sand storms;
the slightest gust of wind and the whole scenery changes. It's
impossible to tell where you are or how far you've traveled.


~end of excerpt~


When she felt her eyes would no longer stay opened by
themselves, Lois put the book aside. She had read nearly a
hundred pages already. Truth be told, as tired as she was, she
was a little sad to have to put the book away now. The story was
truly captivating so far. She'd heard people commenting on the
fact that any time they'd read one of these novels, they had
always gotten the impression that they were living the story
along with the hero. And every time, she'd thought to herself
that these people clearly needed a life! But reading this book,
Lois found that they were barely exaggerating in their comments.
You could almost see the dunes of sand and feel the burning sun
at the same time the main character did. And that was nothing
compared to the emotion you felt as you rode with him on his
motorcycle, shared his feelings and thoughts, then eventually
met with local people and learned of their life and customs.
This was definitely a great way to escape reality, she thought.

Lois was definitely looking forward to picking up this novel
again and finding out the rest of the story! She was seriously
considering getting a few more of these at the bookstore as
well. If they were all as well written as this one, then she
really wanted to read them and not solely for the purpose of
preparing herself in the prospect of interviewing the author,
either.

~.~.~.~

"How are things progressing?" Lex Luthor asked the burly man who
sat across from him.

They were meeting in the same dirty little diner they always
did. The pretty waitress, the one with the long sandy hair, had
ordered their usual breakfast the second she had seen them walk
in. And she'd hurried with their coffees, just as she always
did. Lex appreciated the fact that she was quick and efficient,
just as much as he did the fact that she never came over to try
and make conversation as so many other waitresses liked to do.

The man took a sip from the steaming cup in front of him. "As
usual," he said after swallowing the hot beverage.

Lex looked at him, anger boiling in his veins. As usual... This
is what he always said. This was the man's answer to everything.
Not "as planned" or "as we hoped" or anything that would give
him any real insight on the progress of the operation. No. As
usual. As if he should read the man's mind or magically
understand what this all meant. It took all his strength to
refrain from slamming his fist on the table and demanding that
he be given a proper answer. One that held some sort of actual
meaning. Luthor wasn't a fool. He knew that no matter how angry
he was, yelling at this man would get him nowhere. Besides,
considering the difference in their build, it was likely the man
could break all his bones in just a few quick blows. And this...
well, it would make conducting business much harder in the
future, wouldn't it? So he himself took a sip of coffee and
tried to relax as he felt the searing liquid descend slowly from
his mouth all the way to his empty stomach, like a flow of
burning lava.

"Then everything will be set in time?" he asked his counterpart
after a moment.

"As long as you keep your end of the bargain, they will," the
man assured him.

Lex nodded. Of course he would keep his end of the deal. His
word was as good as gold; everyone knew that. The man grunted
his approval.

Just then, the pretty waitress arrived and set their breakfast
on the table. Lex let his hand wander not so subtly on her
thigh. She gave him an embarrassed smile and left in a hurry.

Both men ate in silence, as they always did. Twenty minutes
later, they had left the diner, each of them going their
separate way and in a different direction. The waitress came
over to clean up their table and picked up the twenty-dollar
bill that had been left for her there. She stuffed it in her
back pocket with a happy sigh. The short slender man might have
had arms like an octopus, but if his advances never went past
that, it was definitely worth enduring, she thought. She needed
that money to provide for her son - he was all that mattered
anyway.

~.~.~.~

"Hey! Good morning, rookie!" Lex greeted his partner as he
walked past her desk.

He was rarely in the office this early in the morning. What's
more, he wasn't ever in this good a mood when he walked in the
newsroom. Lex Luthor might have been good at his job, but he
barely ever gave anyone the impression that he liked doing it.
Especially if he had to come in the office before noon. Lois
immediately knew that something was up. She guessed that,
whatever it was, it probably didn't bode well for her day...

"I really wish you'd stop calling me that, Lex!" she remarked,
interrupting her typing to look at him. Ever since they'd
started working together, he had called her "rookie". It annoyed
her to no end, although in a way, it was still better than to be
called "darling" or "honey" as he did every other woman in the
newsroom. At least "rookie" wasn't half as sexist and demeaning.
Perhaps it even held just a tiny bit of respect.

"So what have we got on the horizon today?" he asked. In all
honesty, he couldn't have cared less. Fate had given him a
partner whom he could now dump all the work on. Lucky for him,
she was bright enough to do the job right - sometimes even
better than he would have done himself - and smart enough to
know that complaining about it to the editor wasn't a good idea.
Life was good, he thought. Things were finally going his way. He
could only hope it would stay this way for a good long while.

"Well, I've just gotten some more information on the..." she
started.

"Wonderful! Then you'll take care of it, right? I have this
thing I need to attend this morning. But I'll be back sometime
before this afternoon. If you need me, you can just page me.
Okay? And do let me know when you've got enough to start writing
the piece; I'll give you a hand so it's in tip top shape before
we send it off to the editor."

"Right... of course. Yes, I'll do that," Lois answered, rolling
her eyes as she turned back to her computer screen and started
typing again.

Once more, her instinct had been right; Lex had something other
than work on his agenda for today and she was stuck covering his
pretentious little butt. For a second, Lois wondered what
exactly would happen if she didn't "take care of it" and never
got around to writing the piece. She wasn't really sure she
wanted to find out, though. In theory, yes, she'd very much like
to know. However, after having seen some of the people this man
seemed to hang around with, Lois had started to think that
perhaps playing tricks on him was not the safest thing to do.
She shrugged. At least she still got some credit for all the
work she did - not as much of it as she deserved, but she
figured that some credit was still a lot better than none at
all. For a second, she found herself wondering whether this was
how Robin felt, working with Batman. It had to be a lot better
than being Lex Luthor's sidekick, though, she thought. She
giggled as she imagined herself running around town in a flashy
spandex suit.

It didn't matter anyway, she told herself. Lois knew that once
she managed to get that interview with Clark Kent, things would
take a turn for the better. So for now she would cover for
Mr.-I-think-I'm-so-much-better-than-you Lex Luthor and use
whatever free time was left to work on getting the interview
that no one else had ever gotten.

~.~.~.~

As lunchtime finally rolled around, Lois grabbed her purse and
left the newsroom. She stopped over at her favorite take-out
place, got herself something to eat and then made her way to
Centennial Park. She picked a nice little spot where she
wouldn't be disturbed and then took out the copy of "Across the
Dunes" from her purse. Finally, she thought. She'd been waiting
for this moment since last night.

She dove back into the story and followed the hero on his
continuing trek through the Sahara.


~excerpt from "Across the Dunes"~


There was a sandstorm during the night. I managed to find a
place to hide, but I fear that some of my travel companions have
not. Against my better judgment, I hid here and waited for dawn
like a coward, convinced that, even if I had tried, there is no
way I would have seen them through the sand. For hours, all I
heard was the rush of the wind; all I saw was sand dancing in
the air.

I find myself wondering how long it would take for my clothing
to come to shreds if I had been standing out there. It's
pointless, I know, but there's nothing else to do. I've
constantly been trying not to think of days to come; of
decisions I need to make. I do not feel strong enough to make
them. I am not man enough. Instead, I run. And running has
landed me here, where the world is but a cloud of sand whirling
madly around me. I must have lost my mind somewhere on this
journey.

As the sun comes up and the wind finally dies down, I step out
from under the rock formation which sheltered me. I immediately
catch a glimpse of Ahmed. He seems to be digging through the
sand. I run over and find that someone is trapped there and he's
desperately trying to get them out. I dig with him with all the
speed and strength I can willingly put into the task. We finally
manage to get the man out from under all the sand he was covered
with. Sadly, all our efforts are in vain. He's already dead.
He's probably been dead for hours.

Once more I kick myself for hiding when I might have been able
to help. I may not have been able to see the man through the
sand, but I could have heard him... Then again, even if I had,
who's to say I could have made it to him in time? Who's to say I
could have found a place to hide again afterwards?

Ahmed notices my expression, which I can only imagine looks dark
and tortured now. I tell him what's on my mind. His face lights
up with the wise expression I have come to recognize as the
precursor of some sort of philosophical adage, which I never
truly understand.

"A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid
it," he says.

He tells me it's from a 17th century French poet: Jean de La
Fontaine. For once he's quoting someone I've actually heard of
before. But this by no means signifies that I really comprehend
the sense of these words, however. Ahmed's wisdom is lost on me
again as I cannot figure out if he means this about the man or
myself. I'm afraid to ask; he's going to try to explain it with
several other sayings and proverbs which I'm likely not going to
be able to understand either.

We round up the rest of our little group and start planning our
trip to Wadi Halfa. This is the last Sudanese city we're going
to be in. The next stop we make after that will be in Egypt.
From there I will travel alone once more.

I have not been with these people very long - a few weeks, I
think. I've lost track of time, here in the desert. It will be
hard to part company with them once we reach Egypt. Making
friends along the way is always simple; having to leave them
behind is the complicated part. I keep hoping to find a place to
call home for good. But I know I won't find it here anymore than
I have anywhere else yet.

Once I reach Alexandria, I will stop running, I tell myself.
I'll go back to London and face my responsibilities. I'll never
be the man my parents thought they had raised if I don't. Once I
reach Alexandria... Part of me hopes that perhaps I won't make
it there at all. She deserves so much better than this; so much
better than what I can offer.

Mounting my motorbike, I take my usual stand at the lead of the
pack. My heart isn't into it; it rarely is anymore. I wonder if
it's ever been, sometimes. But I've promised I would help these
people out as long as I could and so, no matter what happens, I
will. The truth, though, is that I need them far more than they
do me. Their inner strengths are much greater than my physical
abilities ever will be.


~end of excerpt~


On a few occasions, Lois had taken out her notepad and jotted
down a few names of places that were described in the book. Some
day maybe she would go there and see for herself if it was
anything like the book said. For the first time in her life,
Lois was really getting an urge to travel and see the world. She
smiled. Here she was, actually enjoying an adventure novel, and
not only that but now the author had her dreaming about going on
her very own adventure there. She had to hand it to him, Clark
Kent was definitely good at what he did! This only made her want
to meet the man even more....

As her lunch hour came to an end, Lois put the book away
reluctantly again. She sighed. It was so easy to get lost in
this story and forget about time and real life. She wondered if
the author had visited all the exotic places that he'd been
writing about.... She grabbed her notepad and jotted down the
question. This was definitely something interesting to ask about
during their interview. Perhaps he'd even lived some of these
adventures? That might explain why the descriptions were so
vivid and detailed, she thought. She'd have to ask about this
too.

Getting up to go back to the Star, Lois walked past a couple of
elderly women who appeared to be sharing gossip.

"You know... the rich author?" the silver-haired lady asked the
other, who nodded back. "Well Mr. Nichols, the postman, says
that his assistant isn't the only other person living in the
house."

"Really? Tell me!" her companion answered.

Lois halted, hoping to be able to get a little bit of
information out of their exchange. It might be just gossip, she
knew, but often hearsay had a good measure of truth behind it.

"Seems he's got a groundskeeper, too," the silver-haired lady
explained. "A very handsome looking one at that. Tall, dark and
nothing but muscles. Mr. Nichols says when he went there the
other day, he briefly saw the man doing some gardening work. You
know what I think? He must be the assistant's husband. I hear
she's quite a looker, that girl. With long auburn hair and green
eyes the postman says are brighter than jade. I tell you, it's a
good thing Mrs. Nichols isn't the jealous type or she'd be
furious by now.... Her husband hasn't stopped talking about this
girl since he first saw her."

The women giggled and pretty soon they were too far for Lois to
understand the rest of their conversation.

So there was a groundskeeper, huh? Well if she wasn't able to
get the assistant to cave, perhaps a little flirting with
tall-dark-and-muscular would help get her that interview. She
smiled and started walking towards the office again.

~.~.~.~

The next couple of days had pretty much consisted of the same
old routine. Lois got up, went to work, barely saw her partner
yet ended up sharing his byline every single day. Then after
leaving the newsroom, she would head to the library and pour
over old newspapers in search of any bit of information she
could possibly find about Clark Kent. Most of the time coming up
empty handed. When she finally got home at night, exhausted from
her day, she would dive right back into "Across the Dunes".

Lois giggled as she realized that in a strange way, she was now
spending all her evenings with Clark Kent and that it was the
highlight of her day. If her sister Lucy were here, she'd tell
her what a pitiful life that was and that she should be going
out at night and meeting real actual men, instead of the
make-believe kind. Sure it was sad that all the male characters
in the book were hundreds of times more interesting than most of
the living ones she'd ever encountered, but that didn't mean
that Lois had lost all hope of meeting one that would rock her
world, so to speak. She just didn't have time to go looking for
that right now. But once she was certain that her career was on
a good, solid path, then she would be at leisure to find the
ever-elusive perfect man. For now, he - or any other guy for
that matter - would have been just a distraction from her work
and her objectives. She didn't want that. Not for her or for a
possible male companion, either. Because if she ever did manage
to meet Mr. Right, she wasn't going to just brush him off, she
fully intended to put all her energy into making such a
relationship last. And now just wasn't the right time for it,
she had no energy to spare for this sort of thing.

She almost laughed as it occurred to her that while she wasn't
chasing after a potential mate, all of her energy was still very
much concentrated into chasing after a man right now. One that
was probably just as hard to catch, she knew. She shook her head
as she realized that she was actually much more interested in
meeting Clark Kent than she was in meeting Mr. Right. How
pathetic!

Lois picked up the phone to make "the call" again. She wondered
how Lana Lang was going to try to get rid of her today.... So
far, she hadn't been very creative in her arguments. It was hard
to imagine that this woman worked for one of the world's most
celebrated novelists. Apparently, imagination wasn't part of the
woman's job description.

When Lana answered, Lois started her usual little speech again.
She would introduce herself, exactly the same as is if she'd
never called there before, and then ask in her sweetest possible
tone whether it was possible to arrange a meeting with Clark
Kent.

"Miss Lane, as I have explained to you several times before -"
Lana Lang had told her, in a slightly less polite tone than
usual "- Mr. Kent does not give interviews. It doesn't matter
what newspaper you work for. There will be no interviews. You'll
just have to live with it, Miss Lane. I'm sorry."

"But I never said I wanted to interview him," Lois retorted. "I
simply said that I would like to meet him. There is a
difference..."

She knew perfectly well that this was a lame comeback, but it
was the only thing that came to mind at the time. Besides, she
felt as though Lana Lang was getting really close to losing her
temper. That was when she would move in for the kill and get her
to agree to set up an interview with her boss. Lois had used
that tactic on so many secretaries and assistants before; she
could tell just when it was starting to work. As soon as they
got past the point where they were seriously annoyed with her
for harassing them, they would agree to anything, just to get
rid of her once and for all!

"Not for a reporter there isn't," Lana replied acidly. "Goodbye,
Miss Lane."

Lois stared at the receiver for a second. She shrugged and hung
up the phone.

"Learn to live with it?" she thought to herself. "Is that the
best she can do?"

Apparently, this one assistant was a tougher nut to crack than
what she'd expected. She shrugged. Maybe it was time to move on
to plan B instead... flirting with the groundskeeper.

~.~.~.~

Lana had all but slammed the phone down in frustration. For the
fourth day in a row, she had had to tell Lois Lane the exact
same thing. She was trying to be polite about it, but her
patience was wearing thin.

"Reporters, huh?" Clark asked as he walked into the office. "How
do they ever manage to get the phone number, anyhow? We've
barely been here for a month."

"Ah! Your publisher willing gives it to them," Lana explained.
"I think it's supposed to be payback for you never going on
promotional tours that would surely make him quite a bit richer
than he currently is. Anyway, I'm sure they could get their
hands on it easily enough. The number being unlisted doesn't
mean much anymore.... Most reporters take a hint after calling a
couple of times, though. Except this one. This Lois Lane person
is unusually persistent! If she calls again, I'm afraid I might
end up screaming at her. She's starting to be very annoying!"

"Oh? That bad, huh?" he smiled at her. The thought of her
yelling at anyone over the phone was just so strange. Lana was
anything if not a patient woman. "I'm sure she'll stop pestering
you soon enough, Lana. I'm sorry that you have to play bulldog
with these people. I didn't expect people to be so nosy."

"Come on, Clark, don't be so naive! You're one of the richest
men in the world and by far the most secretive. Of course they
want to know more about you! They'd want to know everything
there is to know even if you weren't anywhere near as successful
- or wealthy. It's exactly because you are being so secretive
that they're interested. Everyone's heard of you, but no one
knows anything about you. It makes it that much more interesting
for journalists to try and get information on you. If they
should happen to get any, it would likely constitute the high
point of their career. Surely you realize that!"

"It hadn't occurred to me at the time, you know... I wish it
had. And I sincerely had no idea my books would sell so well, to
tell you the truth. Not to mention I most definitely never meant
for you to have to take all the heat from these people."

"First off, you need to stop doubting yourself! Everything
you've ever written has always been just... magical. I've been
telling you this for years and you know full well I'm not just
saying that because of... well... you know."

He nodded.

"And second -" Lana continued "- if I really did mind fending
off these people for you, don't you think I would have said so
before?"

"I know... I'm sorry. I just wish they'd stop thinking there's
anything to report about."

Lana raised her eyebrows. "Clark, the more you hide, the more
they think there is something to report about. I've told you
before, some secrets are best kept when people act as though
they don't exist instead of trying to hide them at all costs."

"Why do we always end up having this discussion over and over
and over again, Lana?" Clark asked, with a frustrated sigh. "I
am not going to go out there and pretend that I'm just as normal
as everyone else is. I'm not. I can't. I can't do it to them;
make them think I'm just like them. There's no way I could pull
it off for very long anyhow and you know this as well as I do.
You have no idea what it's like to be me, Lana. Don't even try.
And don't tell me how I should live. I've tried fitting in
countless times before and it just doesn't work. I'm not going
to try again. It's not worth it! You, on the other hand, have
every right to go out and have a life of your own. A real one,
Lana. You don't need to stay here. I know why you do it, I know
why you're staying, but there's no need for that. You do not
have to take care of me. Mind you, I don't think I'd be able to
manage all the daily stuff without you, but other than that,
Lana... I've told you a million times before, you shouldn't feel
obligated to stay here twenty four hours a day. There's no
reason for you to."

"Clark... I stay because I want to, not because I feel I need
to. I owe a lot to you, yes. But that's got nothing to do with
the fact I'm sticking around. I don't feel like I need to be
here because I have a need to repay you. I used to think you
were my savior, but I was a kid, then. And trust me when I say
I'm not staying around because I don't know where else I could
go."

"Some savior I am... unless you've forgotten, it's my fault
if..."

"It is not your fault, Clark!" Lana interrupted. "Would you
please stop blaming yourself. It's been over ten years, Clark.
Could we please move on? I have. You need to do the same. I beg
you; please stop living in the past. I don't know if you realize
what it's doing to you. I don't think I should be the one to
explain it to you either, but I can tell you one thing: it's
killing me. It's killing me to see you carry around the blame of
my parents’ death on your shoulders when you have had absolutely
no part in that. Oh, and don't even think of saying that you
should still have been able to prevent this from happening. You
couldn't and nobody blames you for it. Nobody."

"Yes, but..."

"I swear, Clark, if you finish that sentence..." she warned him,
pointing her index finger to his face in a menacing sort of
way.

He sighed. "Yes, ma'am," he said as he hung his head. "I'm
just... I'm sorry. You know?"

"Yes," she said softly. "I do."

Clark gave her a sad smile and left the room.

There was nothing in the world that Lana hated more than having
to be tough with Clark like this. It wasn't even in her nature
to be like that, but she didn't know how else to convince him
that he shouldn't blame himself for the death of her parents. It
just broke her heart to see him so miserable, so unable to move
on. She'd kept hoping that one day, he would stop thinking that
everything was his fault, but she was starting to think this was
just as improbable as it would be for him to stop living like a
hermit. She loved him dearly, he was the closest thing to family
that she had left in the world, but sometimes... sometimes he
could be so dense and so frustrating that she wished she was
strong enough to wring the man's neck!

Lana shook her head at the thought and laughed softly. Wringing
his neck! Even if she was strong enough and, by some miracle it
did hurt him just the tiniest bit, she doubted it would do him
any good.

~.~.~.~

As Kathryn had picked up the fat tip that had been left her
again the next morning, she had been hailed by one of the police
inspectors who frequently visited the diner. Everyone knew that
this served as a meeting place for all sorts of shady business
dealings and so policemen often came to eat here, just on the
off chance they could catch someone red-handed.

"You know who they are?" the inspector asked her, tilting his
head in the direction of the table she'd just come from.

"Not so much, no," she'd told him in a low voice, careful not to
be overheard. "I can tell you exactly what they eat every time
they come in here, but that's all I know. I can tell you pretty
much what anyone who walks in here will order, actually. But as
I've told you a good number of times already, I do not know any
of these people. I don't want to know any of these people. I
have a son to take care of, as you well know. Listening in to
these people's conversation could be hazardous to my health or
worse, my son's. I may not have a College degree, but I'm still
smart enough to know what's good for me."

With that, she left to go back to the kitchen. As the revolving
doors closed behind her, she let out a sigh. Would they ever
stop with their questions? How many times would she have to tell
them that she didn't know anything before they finally
understood and left her alone? It was hard enough working here
among all these suspicious looking men, but being harassed by
the police half the time was not only getting to be annoying, it
was also starting to be dangerous. Surely, they realized that?

~.~.~.~

"What are those?" Lex asked Lois as he rummaged through the
plastic bag that was on her desk. He'd come out of nowhere again
and was sticking his nose where it didn't belong. He had real
talent for this sort of thing.

"Leave that alone, Lex. It's none of your business!" she warned
him, her cheeks turning slightly more pink than usual.

He pulled out a book and looked at its front and back covers. He
noticed that the plastic bag on Lois' desk contained about a
dozen similar books. All of them by the same author, it seemed.

"Wow, I guess that makes you his new number one fan or
something," he teased. At least, teasing is what he called it.
Lois would probably have called it being obnoxious.

"No, Lex. They're not for me," she lied. "It's a present for my
sister. Her birthday is coming up and I promised this year I'd
send her anything she wanted. I really have no idea what made
her ask for all these novels, but a promise is a promise so I
got them for her."

"Oh sure, rookie. And I'm supposed to believe that this Clark
Kent guy hasn't got you under his spell, just like he has all
the other women in the city? Please.... You're single, you have
no social life to speak of; of course you spend all your
evenings reading his novels and dreaming that you're the female
lead. They all do."

"What do you mean 'no social life', Lex? I most certainly do
have one!" she barked at him.

He raised an eyebrow before putting the book back in the bag and
heading over to his desk. He knew it was pointless to get into a
discussion about this with her. She'd just get all fired up as
usual. Of course, sometimes it was worth it to see her get into
a full-blown rage - she was particularly sexy then! - but now
wasn't the time for that. For one thing, he could think of a
better use for his time right now. For another, he was going to
have to spend the afternoon with her and, sexy or not, spending
any length of time with an angry Lois Lane wasn't something Lex
particularly enjoyed.

He picked up a file from a pile on his desk and walked back to
his partner's.

"Come on, rookie, we're going to meet a source," he informed
her. He had to repress a strong urge to tease her and ask
whether she would prefer going on home and plunging into fantasy
world instead. He'd have other, better opportunities for this
sort of thing later on anyway.

"I'll go, but we're taking my car. There's no way I'm riding in
that rust bucket you call a vehicle," she informed him.

"I was hoping you'd say that," he replied, winking at her.

Lois stifled a sigh. He may not have been in the habit of
calling her "honey" or "darling", but winking at her felt just
as condescending.

"Where are we off to? What story is this for?" she asked him as
she picked up her notepad and stuffed it in her purse.

"Ah, you know... Crooked politicians. Scandalous dealings. The
usual."

"Well, if you're not going to be any more precise, I don't see
how I can possibly drive us there, Lex!" Lois told him in an
exasperated tone.

"Just get behind the wheel and I'll tell you where to turn. You
know the drill. It's better for you not to know where we're
going beforehand," he explained.

Lois didn't like this one bit. She never really liked it when
she had to go off on some blind chase around the city with Lex,
actually. But these days, she was getting a vibe from him that
was worse than usual. He was up to no good, she could just feel
it! If she was smart - and careful - maybe this could turn into
an even better story than the one he had in mind, she thought.

~.~.~.~

Lois was just about to go into tornado mode now. She was so
beyond angry, she could barely put it into words. They'd spent
almost an hour driving around town to meet this "source" and
once they'd finally gotten there, they'd found that there was no
one waiting to meet them. They'd waited for close to forty-five
minutes in a dingy little alley before Lois had had enough and
had gotten behind the wheel again.

"Get in, Luthor. Now! Or I'm leaving you here!" she bellowed.

He got in and she drove off like a NASCAR pilot at the start of
a championship race. Of course, after he had made her take all
these twists and turns all along the way, Lois was completely
lost and had no idea just where she was or how to get back to
the Star from here. Every time Lex tried to tell her where to
turn, she would tell him to shut the hell up. And so he would,
until the next time he got the urge to give her directions.
Reason told her she should listen, but she was so incredibly mad
at him that she didn't care anymore.

She finally managed to find her way onto a main road after a
half hour of seeing the same street corners over and over again.
Once there, she decided that she had had enough of Lex for today
and she drove in the direction of his flat.

After Lois took Lex to that God-awful place he called home, she
stopped at a coffee shop. She needed to relax. It was a wonder
she hadn't smashed her car somewhere along the way here! A nice
cup of mocha latte and a few pages from "Across the Dunes" would
definitely calm her down.

She sighed as she sat down at a quiet little table. "Finally,"
she whispered, smiling at the prospect of losing herself in
Clark Kent's novel once more. She smiled as she realized that in
a weird way - and with just a simple book - he now held the key
that brought happiness back into her life. If Lucy were here,
she would be quick to tell her how pathetic that was. And she
knew it, too. But she couldn't help it; she needed to be able to
immerse herself in this story. It was almost as though her
sanity depended on it. Right now, for instance, the prospect of
reading a few paragraphs had managed to calm her down from the
incredible amounts of anger she'd felt just a few minutes prior.
She couldn't remember anything ever having that effect on her.
She wondered if anyone else reading his novels also felt that
way?

Lois took a nice long sip from her latte and opened the book.


~excerpt from "Across the Dunes"~


Egypt. This is the end of the road for most of our group. Others
are going in a different direction from here. I will be
traveling alone from here. It will be hard to part company with
these people. We've been through a lot together in the past
weeks. From sandstorms to a couple of the camels dying
mysteriously, even being held at gunpoint by bandits. Had they
not been there for me and I not been there for them, who knows
if any of us would have made it all the way here? None of us
will ever forget this trek through the Sahara.

As I bid farewell to my new friends, Ahmed leaves me with one
last proverb to ponder about.

"Make your life worthy to look at, for one day it shall pass in
front of your eyes," he says wisely.

I smile at him. If I knew any better, I would swear the man
learned English reading fortune cookies! Every second sentence
that comes out of his mouth sounds just like this one. And as
usual, while I understand the words and know what they
themselves mean, I do not fully understand this new pearl of
wisdom. I know Ahmed has a reason for saying this and *that* is
what I truly need to find and understand.

I thank him for all the times he sat with me around the campfire
and told me stories about life in the desert. I can't help but
wonder why - with all the hardships this man has faced, living
in the dunes, under the scorching sun - he insists on staying in
the desert. He's tried to explain it to me with those stories, I
know, but I fear I cannot fully comprehend his desire to remain
there. The bond between man and sand, I guess you could call it.
Perhaps if I were from around here, I'd know what this means.


"May your journey be free of incident," he says finally, bowing
his head before he turns to join the others.

I wave and stand there looking at them for some time before I
mount by motorbike once more and start heading north again. I'm
still over a thousand kilometers away from Cairo. This time,
since I'm completely on my own, I should be able to travel a lot
faster. I expect to reach the capital in a couple days. Unless
something happens, of course.

*~*

I thought I'd be able to cross Egypt in a couple of days, but I
was being slightly too optimistic it seems. Sand keeps getting
inside the engine of my bike and it's in rather poor shape right
now. I've had to stop to lubricate several of the engine parts a
few times already. I'm afraid that if this keeps up, I'm going
to be stuck walking the rest of the way.

I'm really tired of being in the desert! Every gust of wind
covers you with sand from head to toe. Not that I mind the sting
of it on my skin or the fact that there's enough in my hair to
build a sandcastle, complete with a drawbridge... It does get
hard to breathe through, though.

I finally manage to make it to this small town, and not a minute
too soon as my motorcycle dies on me. I'm barely a few steps
inside the town when the motor stops humming for good. Even if I
were to try and revive it again, I know just by looking at the
amount of smoke coming from the engine that it's just given its
last few breaths of life. I'm surprised it lasted this long, to
be honest. I'm a bit sad that it didn't make it all the way,
though. We've seen some interesting places together, this bike
and I. And we've had some pretty amazing adventures on this
trip.

I don't think I'll be able to find another means of
transportation that I'll enjoy just as much... If I didn't have
such a hard time with flying, that could have been nice. But
flying is one way of getting there that I would much rather
avoid. I'm quite happy having both feet on the ground, for now
anyway. Besides... Egypt is beautiful. Why would I want to
travel high above it and miss most of the things that I can see
from down here?

I've had to trade in my watch for a place to sleep tonight. I
have a bit of money in my pockets, but these people have no use
for it here. It doesn't matter, I'm so sick of all this sand
that hiding from it tonight is well worth this old watch. I'm
not sure it keeps the time really well anymore, there has to be
sand all through the mechanism... He doesn't seem to mind,
though. I guess I was lucky to have this old wristwatch; I don't
think the man would have gone for the digital kind. Then again,
I can understand. I'm not very big on digital myself. I'm an
old-fashioned guy that way.


~end of excerpt~


As she exited the coffeehouse where she'd spent the last hour,
Lois decided she was going to have a little look at the mansion
on Eagle View Drive. The trip took her about half an hour. It
was definitely out of her way, but it didn't matter much. She
had nothing better to do for the rest of the day, anyway.
Besides, if she was lucky enough, maybe she'd catch a glimpse of
the groundskeeper?

She drove up the small road leading to the wrought iron fence,
which surrounded the property and parked her car right near the
entrance. She got out and looked around. She'd heard all the
ghost stories and rumors about this place, but at first glance,
this house wasn't even a tiny bit creepy. Then again, it might
have something to do with the fact that it had apparently
undergone some serious repairs... Looking at it now, you would
never have been able to guess that the mansion had been
uninhabited for the past twenty years. It seemed to be in
perfect order now. Lois guessed that having a lot of money had
probably helped get the house in a livable state very rapidly.

There was nobody around, so she approached the fence door and
pulled on it a little to see if it was opened by any chance. It
was locked, of course. She really hadn't expected to be able to
just walk in that easily, but it was worth a try anyway. She
noticed an intercom system set in one of the brick columns, but
she didn't really want to ring in. What would she have said
anyway? 'Hello, I'd like to speak to the man of the household'?
Like that was going to work!

Lois walked along the fence for a few hundred feet, peering
through it every once in a while, hoping to see something or
someone there. All of the sudden, she heard noises. It sounded
like someone was trimming a small tree, maybe a bushy plant or
the hedge that bordered the fence. There were sounds of branches
rattling and the unmistakable metallic click of secateurs coming
from just a few more feet to her right. She walked over, her
heart racing. There was someone there!

The noises stopped as Lois got closer to their source. She stuck
both hands through the fence and pushed aside the cedar hedge so
she could peer into the property. She sucked in a sharp breath
as she found herself face to face with a man. He was holding a
pair of secateurs in his hands and looked just about as startled
as she did.

"You're not supposed to be here, Miss," he told her nicely.
"This is a private property."

It seemed that the postman had been right, Lois thought. Clark
Kent's groundskeeper definitely fit the tall, dark and handsome
category well. Very, very well, as a matter of fact. For a
second, all she could do was stare into the man's eyes.

He, on the other hand, had been surprised both by the fact that
he had found himself face to face with a woman and the fact that
she was really very pretty. He stared right back at her, unable
to look away for some reason.

As she stood there, in front of this man whom she had never met
before, Lois felt some odd sort of connection to him that she
couldn't explain.... It was just the weirdest thing, like
somehow she knew him, which of course she didn't. It took some
effort, but she eventually managed to look away and speak.

"I'm sorry. My... uh... my cat ran away," she lied. "I thought I
saw him headed over this way. I heard some noise and I figured
it had to be him. I guess I was wrong. I'm really sorry to have
startled you."

"Your cat? I haven't seen one around, but if I do... is there
somewhere we can reach you? If we find it, I mean... What does
he look like?"

"Oh, he's your typical tabby cat. You know? Rusty fur and big
yellowish eyes. Cute little bugger, but he's so curious and
adventurous, he keeps running away. Maybe he'll find his way
home on his own, this time? I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

She pulled her hands out from the hedge and left, leaving the
man to continue his work. So much for trying to flirt with him,
she thought. She hadn't been quite prepared enough for this
encounter. There was something about this man that had sent all
sorts of strange feelings fluttering through her body. She
hadn't expected that to happen. She'd do better next time. Next
time, she'd be ready for it.

For several long minutes, the man stood literally frozen to the
ground. This was the strangest encounter he'd ever had. The fact
that this woman was looking for her cat was really nothing out
of the ordinary, but... she herself definitely did not fit the
"ordinary" category. Not at all. He kicked himself for not
trying to find out who she was. He couldn't explain was it was
about her, but there was something that drew him to her in a
way. Something he'd never felt before. Something that frightened
him very much.

~.~.~.~

Lex was so absolutely furious, it was mind-blowing! He had kept
his end of the deal and made sure he was where he needed to be,
when he needed to be. His contact had promised to let them in on
a little interesting gossip, in exchange for a part to play in
Luthor's operation and hence, a few more dollars in his
pockets.

But when Lex had shown up where they had agreed, his contact was
not there. And he had had to deal with a seriously pissed off
Lois Lane on top of everything else. He had angered her once
already today... this was pushing his luck, he knew. If she got
any angrier, he was afraid she might ask for a new assignment
and definitely get rid of him as her partner. This was the last
thing he needed!

He picked up the phone and made a few calls. He made certain
that his "contact" would be found and treated just the way that
he deserved to be, *after* he'd gotten that juicy bit of gossip
on the mayor that the man had promised him, of course.

~.~.~.~

Lana noticed that something seemed to be troubling Clark all
through supper and most of the evening. He hadn't spoken much
and looked like he was completely lost in thought most of the
time.

"Ok, spill it," she said, finally giving in to curiosity.
"You've been acting all kinds of strange tonight. What's up?"

"Oh, uh... It's not important," he replied absently.

"Well, maybe it's not important, but clearly whatever it is has
gotten you all preoccupied. You can tell me, you know. I'm
always here to listen."

"It's just... it's silly, Lana. I'm not even sure I can explain
this in a way that makes sense," Clark told her, shaking his
head.

"Try me," she encouraged him.

"I was outside before. Trimming the hedge.... It's a relaxing
activity, you know. Clears my head and lets me think," he
explained.

"And it's a good thing you do that, too, or we'd need a
gardener," she teased. They had had one before, when they lived
in Lancaster several years ago, but the man had been fired when
they had found him trying to break into the attic. After finding
himself unemployed, he had started spreading the nastiest rumors
about them, precipitating their departure from the area. From
then on, they had never hired anyone else to do any sort of work
that they could do themselves. Besides, considering all that
Clark was able to do himself, they didn't have much of a need
for help anyway.

"Right. Well anyway, I was trimming away and suddenly this woman
appeared from out of nowhere."

"Out of nowhere?" Lana asked, puzzled. He wasn't imagining
people again, was he?

"No, not like that," he said, fully aware of what she was
thinking right then. "I didn't imagine that man, by the way.
It's not about him, anyhow. This woman... she was on the other
side of the fence and she just poked her hands through to push
the hedge aside and look in. She said she'd lost her cat."

"Seems to me she wanted to take a peek inside the property, more
likely. Cats are just as frightened as everyone else of this
place, they don't come wandering in."

"Well, I don't know... it doesn't matter if the cat was real or
not anyway," Clark said, shrugging.

"Still, what's silly about all of that? So a woman shows up and
says she'd lost her kitty? You can't possibly be so preoccupied
by something like that?"

"Oh, no. No, that's not it. It was just... the strangest thing,
really. That woman. It was like I've known her all my life. I've
never seen her before, I don't even know who she is. I would
have remembered her, believe me. But, I just can't explain, it's
the oddest thing, really. She left as fast a she'd come and for
some reason it's like she ran off with a part of me. And now...
I'm having trouble adjusting to life without that piece of... I
don't know... soul? That she took from me somehow."

Lana looked at Clark with an increasingly puzzled expression as
he spoke. What on Earth was he talking about; she'd stolen part
of his soul? That made absolutely no sense.

"See, I told you that I couldn't explain this in a way that
you'd understand it," he told her, noticing the air of confusion
she had.

"As long as it makes sense to you, Clark, it's the only thing
that matters," Lana said with a warm smile.

This was the first time in years that Lana had heard Clark
talking about having contact with another human being. Whatever
effect that woman had had on him was probably just a result of
him not meeting anybody else and not speaking to another soul
outside of herself for such a long time. Perhaps, she thought,
this might encourage him and make him want to seek other human
contact. Maybe even slowly reintegrate society? Of course, it
would take a lot more than just that little encounter. It would
take a really big push, she was sure of it. But this might be a
beginning. She hoped it would be. She hated seeing this man so
miserable. He needed companionship, something she could not
offer him. At least not in a way that would have made a
difference.

"I just wish..." he started, but then he thought better of it
and said nothing else. He excused himself and made his way back
to his private apartments.

Lana wondered what it was that he wished, exactly. She wasn't
going to ask if he didn't feel like sharing, though. However, a
plan started forming in her head. Perhaps if she could force him
into seeing people, without it looking like she had had anything
to do with it; perhaps it would help get him back on the way to
being his old pleasant self again. Suddenly, Lana found herself
hoping that nosy reporter, Lois Lane, was going to continue to
try and get that interview. Maybe she'd just have to give in and
make Clark go through with it....

~.~.~.~

As she prepared Timmy for bed, Kathryn heard a knock on the
door. Who could this possibly be, she wondered? She barely knew
anyone in Metropolis; she didn't have time to meet people... And
she doubted any of her family would show up here. She hadn't
seen any of them since she'd left that two-timing husband of
hers and she wasn't expecting them to come waltzing back into
her life anytime soon.

She pulled the covers gently over her son and gave him a tender
kiss on the forehead before going over to the front door.

"Who's there?" she asked, looking through the peephole.

"FBI," a man said, in a low baritone voice.

She unlocked the door and pulled it open slightly. The man
flashed his badge at her and so she opened the door some more.
As she did so, she noticed that there were two agents standing
there.

"Kathryn Parker?" he asked.

Kathryn nodded.

"I'm special agent Mike Decker," the man said. "And this is my
partner, Steve Johnson."

"Can I help you?" she asked, nervously.

Kathryn knew that she had done nothing that was even remotely
outside the law, but opening your door to find a couple of FBI
agents - of all people - standing there wasn't something
especially reassuring anyway.

"We were hoping you might consider doing something for us,
actually," he replied. "Can we come in? It won't take long,
don't worry. Just a few minutes."

She was pretty sure that they weren't really going to give her
much choice in the matter, so Kathryn let them inside. She
showed them to the kitchen and offered them something to drink.
They politely refused, but sat down at the table nonetheless.

"Ms. Parker, we know that your job at the Maple Ridge Diner puts
you in contact with certain types of... let's say...
businessmen, on a daily basis," agent Decker said.

"I don't know anything of their dealings!" Kathryn protested. "I
don't listen in on their conversations!"

"I'm sure you don't," the other agent said, in a reassuring
tone. "We're not accusing you of anything. You have absolutely
nothing to worry about."

"Absolutely nothing," agent Decker confirmed. "We'd simply like
to make you an offer... We're aware of the fact that there are
several restraining orders against your ex-husband, one in just
about every state you've ever moved to. I don't suppose this is
the life you had planned for your son, is it?"


Kathryn looked at them, confused and frightened. They seemed to
know everything about her... What if they weren't really with
the FBI? She was on the verge of panicking when one of the
agents noticed her distress.

"I'm sorry if we sound threatening. I promise, this wasn't the
intention," he said. "The thing is, if you agreed to do just a
little bit of 'listening in' to the conversations that you hear
every day; if you would consider talking to us about that and
about the people you meet at the diner... Ms. Parker, we could
put you on a witness protection program. This would ensure a
better future for your son and keep the threat of your
ex-husband away for good."

"You... you want me to... to spy?" she asked, incredulous.

"If that's what you want to call it, yes," agent Johnson replied
with a reassuring smile.

"We're by no means asking you to get involved in any of their
dealings. You wouldn't need to do anything that you don't
normally do. Just listen in a little bit more than usual and
report information back to us."

"But why not just send one of your agents there, or better yet
have one pose as a waitress?" Kathryn asked.

"Because... regular customers are wary of any new employee that
shows up there. Surely you must have noticed this sort of
behavior. Besides, you've been there long enough to know who
meet there for business and who the inspectors in civvies are."

"Well, yes, I know... but I'm not certain I want to do this. I
mean... what if someone found out what I was doing? What if they
realized that I was talking to you people? These men... some of
them are really frightening. What if they did something to
Timmy? I couldn't live with myself if something ever happened to
him. He's the only family I have left. He's my only reason to
live."

"We understand, Ms. Parker. And you have nothing to worry about.
For one thing, no one would ever know that you are working with
us. We'd set up the proper channels for you to be able to give
us the information that you get your hands on. Channels that are
perfectly inconspicuous and safe. We can even set up
surveillance so that nothing could possibly happen to your
son."

"I suppose... but..." she started.

"Listen," agent Decker said. "This isn't an obligation. We're
not going to force you into doing anything that you feel is not
in your best interest. We fully understand your situation and
believe me when I say that the last thing we would possibly want
is for any harm to come to either you or your son. But on the
other hand, if you do decide to work with us, there are definite
benefits for you in the arrangement."

"Absolutely," agent Johnson chimed in. "However, the choice is
very much up to you. You can take the time you need to think
about it, but don't wait too long before letting us know. Once
you reach a decision, whatever decision that may be; just call
us at this number here." He handed her a business card. "You'll
get an answering machine there. When you hear the tone, you need
to leave a precise message. To signal your acceptance, simply
ask that someone call you back. You don't have to leave your
name or number, just pretend that you're calling someone you
know and ask that they call you back. If, on the other hand you
decide that this is too much for you, simply say that you're
sorry and you've dialed a wrong number. This way, anyone
listening in will think that this is a perfectly normal
conversation. Whereas we will know exactly how to proceed from
there. Does that make sense?"

Kathryn grabbed the card from the man's hand. "Yes, that's fine.
I'll think about everything and call you when I reach a
decision."

With that, both men got up and made their way back to the front
door of Kathryn's apartment.

~.~.~.~

"I haven't seen much of you around these days, Lana. Is
everything OK?" Clark asked, concerned.

"Oh, just busy," she explained. "We're just a couple days away
from this year's charity event. You know... the costumed ball
for Halloween?"

He looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"We have one every year, Clark," she explained. "Well, it'll be
the first time in Metropolis, but we have this event every
single year, no matter what city. I'm surprised you don't
remember about the annual Halloween party."

"I guess it's just because I never go..." he shrugged.

"Right... You usually hide in Smallville instead. Which is
ridiculous, because it's the one event you host that you could
easily attend every year! It's a costume party, Clark. If I've
told you once, I've told you a million times, no one would know
it's you. Besides... people don't even expect to see you at
these things anymore. And who knows, maybe your mystery woman
will be there?"

"You think?"

A spark of hope lit up his eyes suddenly. He didn't know who she
was and therefore had pretty much let go of the idea of ever
seeing her again. He didn't venture outside the property and he
was pretty sure she was not going to come around here a second
time. Besides, good things rarely ever happened to him, so why
should this be any different?

"Well, it's hard to say without knowing who she is..." Lana
said. "But there are always so many people present; it's
possible she might be there. Who knows?"

"I'm not so sure I want to do this, though..."

He knew Lana had a point. More than one, really. There was
always a chance this woman would be there. And it was easy to
preserve one's anonymity at a costumed ball. But for some reason
he still felt that he would stick out like a sore thumb or that
someone would be wise enough to unmask him, somehow.

"Why not, Clark? It's the one night of the year where you can
blend in. Completely blend in. Everyone there is going to be
pretending they're someone they're not! It's perfect, Clark!
Even if you showed up there dressed as a little green man from
Mars, no one would think anything of it. They'd just think it's
fun."

"Could we please not get into the whole alien thing again,
Lana?" he sighed.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean it that way. You know what I mean,
though, right? No one there is going to be who they seem to be.
You could pretend to be anyone you like. For just one night you
don't have to be Clark Kent, you could be whoever you want to
be. I can arrange to get a costume for you. Just say the word."

"I don't know about this, Lana... You really think that's such a
good idea? I mean, granted I wouldn't mind the opportunity to
have a conversation with other living souls, but...."

It had been years since Clark had been in the presence of other
people besides Lana and in a way he missed it. But being around
other people always brought its share of heartache and pain in
the long run and there was just so many of these a man could
take before he broke down completely.

"A costume party is the perfect occasion for that," she
interrupted before he could voice whatever reason it was that he
shouldn't go. "I promise, no one will ever know you were even
there. People don't even know for sure what you look like, you
made sure of that after Capetown - remember? Come on!
Actually... you know, for once I really wouldn't mind having a
dance partner... I don't know anyone in this town, as usual."

Clark knew she didn't mean that to sound resentful, but the
words still stung a little bit. Lana was old enough that she
didn't need to have a legal guardian anymore, but for some
reason she had still stayed. For the life of him he could not
see why she hadn't left a long time ago. He surely wasn't
keeping her there against her will! She knew that, too. They'd
moved around a lot and he'd often expected that at some point
she would find a place where she would want to stay and that
would be it. Of course, having her here meant a lot to him - it
helped a lot, too - but he wished she would see that there was
no reason for her to live the same life he did.

"As you are well aware, there is no reason for you to spend
absolutely all your time at the mansion, Lana. You have no
reason not to have friends in Metropolis. I wish you did,
really. You need to go out and have fun, meet people."

"And you don't?" she shot back.

Lana knew she was right although she was stepping into quick
sand with this line of questioning. She'd tried to convince him
time and time again that the life he led was terribly unhealthy,
but he no longer listened. And while she knew that she was free
to do as she pleased, she couldn't help but stay there with him.
He was miserable and she knew it. How could she have left him
all alone with no one to speak to ever again? He'd given her a
future when she no longer had one; he'd taken care of her when
there was no one left who would; how could she then, in good
conscience, just abandon him when it was clear he needed her? If
she'd done that, then he would have likely just withered away
and died. Forgotten and alone. Just the thought of that broke
her heart.


"That's a different story. You have no reason to hide," he
said.

"If you were half as smart as people say you are, you'd realize
that you don't either!"

He simply raised his eyebrows at her. There was no point in
getting into that argument again. She knew his reasons and he
wasn't going to explain it to her again.

"Okay, okay... I get it. But please come to this party, Clark.
Just this once. This might be your one chance at seeing her
again, you know. Everyone who's anyone is going to be there."

"I'm not so sure I want to see that many people..."

"Please? For me?" She looked at him with pleading eyes.

This was one of those irrational arguments that Clark had never
been able to say no to.

"Well, maybe I could just poke my head in and see what all the
fuss is about," he said after a short moment of reflection.
"After all, this is a party I'm technically hosting, right?
Just... I won't be caught dead looking like a little green man!
Anything but that!"

"I'm not sure green is really your color anyway," she teased.
"I'll find something appropriate. Unless... well, is there
anyone you'd like to be?"

"Yeah, I wish I was a normal human man..." he whispered, barely
loudly enough for her to hear. He continued, in a normal
speaking voice. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. I'll barely be
there long enough for anyone to notice anyhow."

He left the room and went back to his study.

Lana turned to her computer and tried to find a costume idea for
Clark. After a few minutes of clicking and scrolling, she saw
something that was positively brilliant. It took only a few
minutes to call the rental place where she'd reserved hers and
make sure they had what she needed for him. She smiled as the
clerk confirmed they could have both ready for her and delivered
on the 31st. This was going to be a wonderful Halloween, Lana
thought.

~.~.~.~

When she got to the Star in the morning, Lois looked at her
timetable and realized she didn't have lots planned for the day.
She almost hoped that Lex would show up. Almost.

She'd been trying to get the groundskeeper out of her mind ever
since she had run off from Eagle View Drive yesterday. He'd had
the strangest effect on her and as much as she would have liked
to find out what that was about, she was scared out of her mind
of having to talk to that man again. Her instinct told her that,
in the oddest of ways, this man was dangerous. Although she
wondered if he was more dangerous for her physical safety or for
her mental balance.

No matter how hard she tried, Lois could not get that encounter
out of her mind. She couldn't get his face out of her mind
either. Everywhere she turned, she thought she caught glimpses
of him.

She had hoped that work would help clear her head, but she had
nothing on the horizon. She would have taken anything right now,
even covered a dog show! Just something to occupy her mind with.
She'd even enjoy chatting with her partner, she thought. But
then, of course, it was still way too early in the morning for
him to show up, wasn't it?

Lois wondered how this little setback was going to affect her
plans of interviewing Clark Kent. She'd tried talking to his
assistant, but that hadn't led her anywhere. Flirting with the
groundskeeper was pretty much out, now, too. She didn't think
she'd be able to put three words together in a sentence if she
ever saw him again, anyway. What other choices did she have now?
How about trying to get inside the mansion, she wondered? Seeing
as though she had nothing else interesting planned, Lois thought
maybe this would be a good use for her time. And she new exactly
how she was going to get in, too....

Just then, a copy boy walked past her desk hurriedly and dropped
an envelope there for her.

"I guess he's got you doing gossip, this week," the young man
said with a grimace.

Lois picked up the envelope and opened it. Inside, she found an
invitation to a charity fundraiser. It was a costumed ball for
Halloween. It wasn't addressed to her per se, but to the
Metropolis Star, so she knew that this was an assignment and not
an option. She wasn't exactly pleased at the prospect of going
to one of those things... Lois hated costumes. And this would
make her job so much harder if she didn't know who the people
were. How would she know to ask the right questions to the right
people?

She was about to throw the invitation in her drawer when she
happened to notice the address on it... Eagle View Drive. Lois
did a double take. Could that be? The man who never saw anyone
and didn't leave his mansion was throwing a party and inviting
people to come and visit his home? That did not make sense.
She'd have to ask what that was all about for sure!

If all else failed, this would be her key to get in the house,
she realized. She might even get to see him if she was observant
and careful enough. Maybe finally land that interview? Lois
smiled brightly and set the precious invitation down on her desk
as if it was made out of twenty-four carat gold.

Of course, that was just when Lex Luthor had decided it would be
good of him to make an appearance in the newsroom.

"So we're going to the costumed party?" he asked.

"We?" she blurted out, somewhat confused.

"Well, yes, of course 'we'. What do you think? That I'm going to
pass up an opportunity to mingle with the rich and famous? No
way, rookie! Why do you think the invitation made it to your
desk anyway? I practically had to beg for that, you know!"

"Beg? What? Lex, why would you beg for something like that?"
Lois asked. She was completely confused now.

"Geez you're dense! The Star got two pairs of those. Carpenter's
got one, obviously. And the other pair was going to end up in
the newsroom. Of course, I was getting one of them. Seniority
and all that. But I'll be damned if I have to go there with that
ditsy girl from the gossip column! She may be all curves, but
those don't write articles. That's where you come along. You
know... ask questions, type up the article and all that. The
usual."

"Lex! I'm not your lackey!" Lois protested vehemently. "I will
not spend my evening there doing all the work for you to put
your name on the byline!"

"Ah, but I know for a fact that you will come, no matter what.
Little Miss Lois Lane's been eating up all of Mr. Clark Kent's
novels recently. Of course she's dying to go to a party he's
throwing," he explained with a sly smile.

Touché. He was good, she had to admit. He knew her pretty well.

"Okay, okay! You win this round," Lois mumbled under her
breath.

"Get yourself a sexy costume, now, you hear? If we're going to
be seen there together, I'd like you to look... you know... like
a woman. Not like what you usually wear... Lois, suits are for
men - it doesn't matter if yours have a skirt instead of a pair
of pants, they're still suits. You'd get much better results if
you dressed... you know... more attractively."

Lois let out a frustrated sigh. She would throw such a huge
party the day she got rid of her partner! She grabbed her purse
and set off towards the bathroom.

As she got there, she hid in one of the stalls and pulled out
the book from her bag. When she put it down last, she had but a
few pages left before she was done with it. She almost ached to
know how it ended. This and the fact that she was grabbing for
this book every time she felt down or angry and needed something
to cheer her up, made her realize that this had become almost
like a drug. The novel was to Lois what a fix was to an addict.
But, it didn't matter. She could ponder the repercussions of
this later on if she thought she needed to. For the moment, what
she really needed was to read the last few lines of this story.


~excerpt from "Across the Dunes"~


I've been in Cairo the last week or so. Every morning as I get
out of bed, I tell myself that today I'll be leaving for
Alexandria. Today, I'll take that last big step towards this
goal that I've now set for myself. Once I get there, once I
reach the port of Alexandria, I will embark on a trip across the
Mediterranean and make my way to Europe. And then, come hell or
high water, I will head north, to London. I promise myself I
will. I promise her I will, even though she cannot hear me; even
though she doesn't know.

But every morning, as I look out the window of the cramped
living quarters that I call home for now, every morning I lose
courage. And I end up here again at the end of the day, to find
myself standing in the same spot the next morning, looking out
the same window and making empty promises to the wind once
more.

Today was Sunday. At least I think it was. It had to be... It
doesn't really matter. Today was yet another day that saw me get
up from bed and go from the strong-willed person I want to be to
the cowardly lion I really am. Sometimes I wish I were in Oz. I
want to pretend that I'm strong, but the fact of the matter is
that even Dorothy could kick my sorry behind from here to
kingdom come if she only knew where to find me. I would deserve
it, I guess.

I take her picture out of my notebook once more. This pretty
little girl whose life I turned upside down; whose future I've
made a complete mess of; whose happiness I've probably ruined
beyond salvation. This pretty little girl who, for reasons that
I cannot even begin to comprehend, actually thinks the world of
me. She sits in her dorm room in London every night, hoping that
I'll come back for her soon, yet for the life of me I still
can't understand why she would want me there in the first place.
Why she would want to be anywhere near me? I've caused her so
much pain. Granted, when she needed someone to be there, to be
strong for her, I was. I had to be. But how she could forgive me
- when I cannot even begin to forgive myself - is beyond me.

It's not her I run from. It's never been her that I've run away
from. On some level I'm sure she knows. It's myself I run from,
I guess. Although after all this time, you'd think I would have
come to terms with the fact that I can't change who I am and
what I've done. Or rather, what I haven't done. I'm just afraid.
Afraid of myself just as much as I am for myself, in a way.

But tomorrow... When I get out of bed tomorrow, I will pack up
and leave Cairo. Ride on to Alexandria. Stop being so afraid.
Stop pretending. Stop running.

Tomorrow is the day I start being a man.


~end of excerpt~


Lois reached in her bag and pulled out a Kleenex. She blew her
nose and grabbed another Kleenex to wipe away her tears with.
That last chapter was heart wrenching to say the least!

She wondered again whether this was an autobiographical novel.
If it was, then this man had wrestled with a lot more than just
the hard road through the desert and he was obviously tortured
by something in his past. On the other hand, if it wasn't and
this was just a fictional character in a book, then Clark Kent
deserved an award for that. Maybe he's already won one, she
thought. She'd have to look that up. She knew he'd racked up a
good lineup of awards, but she didn't know for sure which or
what he'd gotten them for. In this one case, the prospect of
more research didn't put her out one bit. Lois felt like she was
starting to know this man a little more every day. And every day
she found she really liked him.

Once she had dried her eyes and thought that she looked
presentable enough to go back out in the newsroom, she left her
little sanctuary and headed back into the lion's den.

~.~.~.~

Kathryn picked up the handle of the pay phone in the diner. It
was near the restrooms, so she knew it was out of the way enough
that no one would hear her conversation. She wasn't exactly
going to have a conversation, but she didn't really care for
anyone listening in to this call anyway. She was scared enough
of leaving a message on that answering machine to begin with,
she didn't really need more reasons to be afraid.

She slid a coin inside the opening and waited a second for a
dial tone. She then dialed the phone number that she'd been
given by the FBI agents the other night.

The phone rang a couple of times and then she heard the
answering machine pick up.

"Hey there," a cheerful female voice greeted her. "You've
reached Joe and Kathleen's place. We're out enjoying life, but
we'll be back when we're done, so leave a message, OK?"

Kathryn took a deep breath and hesitated for a second before she
finally spoke.

"Hi guys!" she started, trying to sound cheerful herself,
although she was mostly scared and rather shaken. "It's Kathryn.
I thought maybe we could have dinner some time. Give me a call
back when you're able. Ciao!"

She hung up the phone a bit abruptly and stood there staring at
it for a minute or two. She hoped that she'd made the right
choice. A future for Timmy, this was all that counted. God
willing, this would give him one. A secure one, free of the fear
that had been her constant companion the last few years. Timmy
deserved so much better than that. So much better than what she
could normally have offered him.

~.~.~.~

Lana was quite surprised, when she answered the call on the
intercom. She'd first thought the deliveryman had gotten the
address wrong, but when he'd said who the delivery was for, she
knew that this wasn't a mistake. She wondered what this was all
about. Why would anyone send her flowers?

She made her way to the front door and opened it for the
deliveryman, who brought in a huge potted plant just a minute
later. Lana directed him to her office to set it down. Once he
had, she signed the delivery waiver and showed the man out of
the mansion.

When she returned to her office, Lana found herself face to face
with a woman. A woman who was snooping around her desk!

"What are you doing here?" she just about shrieked. "How did you
get in? You have no business being here! And you definitely do
not have permission to go through my things! I'm calling the
police!"

The woman froze in place for a second.

"No, no, you've got it all wrong," she told her once she
recovered from the shock. "I have an appointment." She should
have known this would happen... She hadn't been careful enough.
If she was lucky, maybe her line about an appointment would
work, but Lana Lang did not seem that gullible at all. She knew
that she was pushing her luck getting inside the mansion, she'd
just thought it would be a good idea at the time...

"An appointment? I sincerely doubt that you have an appointment
with anyone here. How did you get inside the mansion, anyway? I
most certainly did not authorize your entry!"

"Well, the gate was opened," she said after a second. "I figured
it was OK to come in. Like I said, I have an appointment."

While it was true that the gate had been open when she'd come
in, it most definitely wasn't opened for her to come in through.
There was a delivery truck going inside the property. She'd just
taken the opportunity that was offered her. Granted, the
opportunity has cost her $50, but it had been worth it, hadn't
it? She was inside the mansion now! There was no point in
waiting for the costume ball, she had decided that morning. He
wasn't going to attend that charity event. He wouldn't even be
anywhere near the mansion that night, she was sure of that! So
why wait when she could make things happen right now?

"Just who are you, Miss? And stop it with this nonsense about an
appointment!"

Before either of them had a chance to say anything more, Clark
showed up in the office. He'd heard the argument and thought
perhaps Lana needed help getting rid of whoever the intruder
was.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking towards Lana.

Lois turned to face him. A shiver ran through her spine as she
saw him. The groundskeeper... Why wasn't he outside keeping the
grounds? That's where he ought to be! Not in here, making her
all jittery. She took a deep breath as she strengthened her
resolve. He was not going to stand in her way of this! She'd
bully her way into an interview if she needed to, but she wasn't
leaving here empty handed for sure.

Clark was equally surprised to see his mystery woman from the
other day standing there, in front of him. Who was she and what
was she doing here?

"My name is Lois Lane," she said in an exasperated tone. "I'm
supposed to be meeting with Clark Kent at 10 AM. So would either
of you please be cooperative and get him? He'll be able to
confirm that we have an appointment. Trust me. Just one of you
move your little butt and get your boss for me. Okay?"

Lana gasped. Her eyes grew wide as she looked from Lois to Clark
and then back again. She opened her mouth to speak, but Clark
held out his hand to indicate he was going to handle it.

"I'm sorry, Miss Lane," he said with an amused look in his face.
"But you most definitely do not have an appointment. I would
know if you did, believe me."

"And who are you? His body guard?" she threw at him, without
thinking.

"Actually, no. I'm Clark Kent," he told her, one of his
devastating smiles playing at his lips. "Pleased to meet you,"
he added, extending his hand in welcome.

Oh. God. Lois' blood ran cold. That was him? How could that be?
She'd seen him trimming the hedge, for crying out loud! What
sort of millionaire trims his own hedges? Her eyes grew wide and
her face turned a deep shade of crimson.

"Oh... Uh... I'll just let myself out. I'm... I'm sorry, I...
Oh, God." she stammered as she bolted out of the room and ran
away as fast as she could!

Clark stood there puzzled, his arm still outstretched in front
of him. He let it drop back to his side.

Why did she keep running off like that? He wondered for a second
if he should go running after her and find out, but he thought
better of it.

"I guess that's the last we see of her," Lana said with a sigh
of relief. As much as she thought forcing Clark to be in contact
with other people was a good idea, this Lois Lane person was
starting to be more than annoying!

"I... hope not," Clark said, somewhat absently.

"Huh?" Lana could not believe what she had just heard. Clark
hoped he would see her again? What could possibly possess him to
think such a thing?

"It was her, Lana," he explained. He had a dreamy look on his
face, like he was trying to recapture a special moment.

"Her? Her who? What are you talking about?"

"The woman I told you I saw the other day. You know? She was
looking for her cat. Although now I'm thinking maybe she wasn't
looking for anything but a way in... Doesn't matter, I'm glad
she found one. It was her. Lois Lane. She's the woman who was
peering through the hedge. At least I got her name, this time."

"You've got to be kidding! That's your mystery woman? She's a
small time reporter, Clark. And a seriously annoying one at
that!"

"Annoying? Lana, mosquitoes are annoying. Lois Lane... she's...
fascinating." He sighed.

Lana couldn't believe what she was hearing. Fascinating? Lois
Lane? Clark had definitely been cooped up inside way too long,
she thought. He was losing his mind if this is what fascinating
was to him!

"Is she on the guest list?" he asked a bit embarrassed to be
doing so.

"The? Huh? Oh... that... Well, the press has been invited, of
course. But I could make sure..."

"Thank you," he said before leaning over to brush a small kiss
on her temple and leaving the room.

~.~.~.~

Kathryn got home that evening to find a thick envelope, which
had been pushed through the mail chute on her door. She set
Timmy down on the floor and he ran over to the living room to
watch his favorite cartoons on TV. Kathryn picked up the
envelope and ripped it open.

It contained instructions and names of contacts to reach when
and if she had anything to report. The note said that it was
imperative that she read through all the documentation and that
she make sure she followed the guidelines properly.

She set the papers on the table and proceeded to prepare supper.
She glanced over to her son. He was sitting cross-legged on the
floor, a little too close to the TV, watching Bugs Bunny and
clapping excitedly every time the rabbit showed up on the
screen. Kathryn hoped she had made the right decision.

"You're too close to the TV, sweetie," she told Timmy.

"But, Mommy... it's Bu' Bunny, Mommy!" he protested.

"I know, honey, but you need to sit a little further from the
screen, OK? It's not good for your eyes to be so close," she
explained.

"Yes, Mommy," Timmy answered, contrite. He got up, took half a
step back and sat right back down.

Kathryn shook her head. He was still way too close, but at least
he'd made an effort, she told herself.

She read through the documents she'd gotten as she finished
mashing carrots and potatoes. Most of it wasn't very complicated
and sounded logical enough. She was sure she could manage this
without getting herself in any danger. At least for now.

~.~.~.~

Lois picked up her costume and headed home. She wasn't
altogether certain that she wanted to go back to that mansion
again. Not after that very unfortunate incident from the other
day. But she didn't have much choice... She had an assignment
and she knew full well that pulling a little Prima Donna stunt
on her editor and changing her mind about going to the charity
event was a sure fire way of getting her in trouble. She needed
to be in her editor's good graces, not his doghouse! Especially
not if she was ever going to get out of this partnership with
Lex Luthor! So, she'd gone over to a rental place and had chosen
a costume. There weren't a lot left to pick from, but she was
satisfied with what she had managed to find anyway. It was
romantic in a sad sort of way and she liked that about it.

As she prepared for the ball, Lois went through all the
information she had gathered about Clark Kent. She wanted to be
ready, even though she probably didn't have a snowball's chance
in hell of talking to him again. He was most likely not going to
be there anyway, was he? He hid in his house from the people
outside it; he would probably hide outside his home when there
were people inside it. It only seemed logical. Besides, even if
he was really actually there, even if he was in the room with
her and she miraculously found herself staring right at the man,
she probably would not recognize him through whatever costume
he'd be wearing. Besides, he probably wouldn't be too inclined
to want to chat with a woman who had broken into his home!

Lois remembered the odd feeling she had had the first time she'd
seen him. The sense of a connection that she could not explain.
Even though she'd made an absolute fool of herself, that thing
that she'd felt made her want to go to this costumed ball. It
made her look forward to it, even though it was foolish.

Spending the evening with Lex, however.... Lois wasn't looking
forward to that at all! She just hoped that he would behave. She
would have rather died than have this man make passes at her all
evening long. He was likely to try, she knew. He could never
resist a pretty woman. And, truth be told, Lois looked pretty
darn amazing in this dress!

She sighed as she took one last look at herself in the mirror.
Satisfied with her hair and makeup, she grabbed an evening bag
and left the apartment. A few minutes later, she pulled into
Lex's driveway and piped the horn on her car, to signal that she
was there. Normally, she hated people who did this sort of thing
and she would never have done it herself, except getting out of
the car wearing this dress wasn't exactly easy. Besides, she'd
told him exactly at what time she would be there to pick him up
and she was there at the exact time - 8 PM, right on the dot. He
should have been nice enough to be ready by then! She was not
going to get out and ring his doorbell. No way.

She waited for a couple minutes and then honked again. Still no
sign of her partner. Where could he be? What was taking so long?
Lois decided that if he wasn't out in five minutes, she was just
going to leave him there and let him get to the party on his
own. If he didn't have the decency to be ready on time, then why
should she bother waiting for him until the cows came home?

Eight minutes later and still no sign of Lex anywhere, Lois
backed out of his driveway and left.

"Go to hell!" she spat, her eyes narrow with anger.

~.~.~.~

When she arrived at the mansion on Eagle View Drive, Lois
stepped out of her car and let the valet go and park it for her.
For a second she felt like some sort of celebrity. She had never
had anyone park her car for her like that. Pleasant feeling, she
thought. She could get used to something like that!

She went inside the mansion. It was beautifully decorated. Light
fixtures had little pumpkin light bulbs on them. They shed an
eerie orange glow in the corridors which was perfectly well
suited for the occasion. A few little handkerchief ghosts were
hanging from the chandeliers here and there as well. Everything
was very classy and tasteful, nothing tacky like she had
imagined it. She didn't know for sure why she'd thought it might
look that way... Perhaps it was just the impression she got from
that Lana Lang person. She didn't care very much for her, she
realized. There was no real reason for that, she knew, but she
just couldn't help it. She shrugged the thought away as she met
up with a very cute usher in a Peter Pan outfit who kindly
directed her to the ballroom.

She was surprised to see that there were so many people
attending the event. Obviously, outsiders had never heard any of
the rumors about this mansion. Anyone from or around Metropolis
would have, though. Unless the stories made it that much more
appealing on Halloween night? Surely there were no real ghosts
or spirits hanging around here; people couldn't possibly have
been expecting to see any. Perhaps rich people just didn't
believe in those...

Judging by the costumes the guests were wearing, they certainly
were rich! The women's dresses were so opulent and fancy - and
original, too! - They had probably had them custom made for the
occasion, she guessed. She saw an elderly woman dressed as
Marie-Antoinette who had on such an elaborate wig that it made
her wonder how it held on her head. And the jewelry she wore was
definitely not made of cubic zirconias! It had to be worth
several times more than what Lois earned in a year.

Heads turned as Lois entered the ballroom. The entire place
seemed to fall silent for a second. She heard people whisper,
wondering who she was. It felt strangely pleasant to be the
center of attention like this even for just a moment. No matter
what Lex Luthor had told her about her appearance, Lois was an
attractive woman - and she knew it - but she'd never been the
girl that everyone noticed and went after. Dressed like this,
however, she was definitely the center of attention. Being all
dressed up in a queen's outfit would do that. Marie-Antoinette
probably had gotten the same sort of welcome, she guessed.

She looked around the room to see if Lex was there already, by
any chance. She was quite intent on giving him a piece of her
mind! Finally, she recognized him. He wore an awful looking
costume, which appeared to be that of a matador. He had on a
ridiculously long cape to go with that and it didn't match the
rest of the outfit at all. He was standing near the bar with a
scantily clad young woman whose cleavage he seemed to find
completely spellbinding. He turned around to look at Lois
suddenly, as if he'd sensed that she was eyeing him intensely.

"There you are, darling!" he called out from across the room,
waving his hand at her.

Lois felt her cheeks flush. Just what she needed! She could have
gone without having everyone think she was with him. She didn't
care that people saw them together at all, but the fact that
he'd just called her darling so loudly, well... people were
bound to imagine that they were together in a much different
sense. This, she could easily have lived without.

The woman he'd been talking to seemed somewhat offended to
realize that she had no chance of getting anything from Lex. She
left, looking rather frustrated at having wasted her time with
the man. Lois shook her head. Poor girl had no idea she'd really
been done a favor here, did she?

Lex strolled over to her.

"I am not your darling," Lois told him, her teeth clenched; once
he was close enough to hear her.

"Ah, but you are still my date for this evening, aren't you?" he
slurred.

"Right... that's why you were ogling the belly dancer and why
you weren't there when I went to pick you up earlier. These
things make so much more sense now that I know I'm supposed to
be your date, Lex!"

"Calm down, rookie. Calm down! Let's dance," he suggested as he
grabbed her by the hand and pulled her towards the dance floor.

Lois stood there, pondering his suggestion. This might be the
only dance she got out of this ball, she thought. And then of
course all she had to do to get out of it, was argue that she
had work to do and she would be free of him for the remainder of
the evening. She knew that he needed her to do all the work,
anyway. This is why she was there in the first place, wasn't it?
Why he'd made sure the editor would give her the second
invitation. Lex was smart enough to understand that if he spent
all evening dancing with her, then she would have nothing to
write about tomorrow and it would impact him negatively. He'd
leave her alone, she was sure of it. So, somewhat reluctantly,
she agreed to dance with him.

He grabbed her by the waist and drew her close. Not too close at
first, but then it seemed he'd gotten it in his head that since
she hadn't pushed him away, he was welcome to get a little more
comfortable and hold her tightly.

Lois complained a few times, but Lex pretended he didn't hear
anything and just kept on dancing. At one point, he let his hand
wander just a little bit south of her waist and he patted her
behind.

"Hey!" she protested.

He removed his hand at once, but tried his luck again a few
seconds later and let his hand fall right back on her posterior.
This time, Lois had had enough! What was he playing at? They
were here for work! Why did he even want to dance with her? He'd
made it quite clear he was in no way interested in her the other
day. And even if he had found her attractive, she wasn't the
least bit interested in him. Surely he realized that. Besides,
she really needed to go and ask people all sorts of nosy
questions now. Questions she would then use to write articles,
which would have his name on the byline, of course.

"Lex, would you let me go!" Lois ordered.

"I'm not Lex," he answered. "I'm Don Juan tonight, my darling."

Lois hadn't noticed before, but Lex had been drinking heavily.
As he spoke, she smelled the Scotch on his breath. That would
definitely explain his behavior. He scared her somewhat. She
didn't know just what he was capable of and she really didn't
want to find out, especially since he'd been drinking.

"Lex, you're drunk! And I'm not your darling! Now let go, you're
hurting me!"

He tried to kiss her, but she fought him desperately. Why wasn't
anyone paying attention to what was going on? She needed help!
Now! She didn't want to cause a scene, though - this wasn't the
place for such things - but surely people around could see and
hear that she was in trouble. Why wasn't anyone offering to get
her out of this situation? Didn't anyone care? Rich people
didn't know how else to help but throw money around, she
realized angrily.

Suddenly, she saw a man standing behind Lex. He was dressed as
the main character from Phantom of the Opera and hence had most
of his face covered by a mask. Lois didn't know exactly who was
hiding under it. She really didn't care, though, as long as he
could help!

The Phantom tapped Don Juan/Lex on the shoulder.

"May I cut in?" he asked politely.

Finally, Lois thought. Whoever he was, he was a godsend.

"No way, buster," Lex answered. "She agreed to be all mine for
this evening. I'm not sharing."

"Let go of me, you pig!" Lois just about shouted.

"Sir," the man said in a firm voice. "I believe the lady wishes
you to release her. I would strongly suggest you do as she asks.
You wouldn't want to be thrown out of here, I'm sure."

Lex grunted and let go of Lois. "You'll pay for that, rookie,"
he threw at Lois, his eyes ablaze with pure anger, before he
stumbled away.

"I don't know how to thank you," she told the man.

"I do. Dance with me," he suggested, taking her hand lightly in
his.

"Oh? Certainly." She smiled. She was still pretty shaken up, but
something inside her told her she shouldn't turn him down.
"Mister...?" she asked.

As she found herself in the Phantom's arms, Lois felt a surge of
something she could only describe as sheer joy run through her.
She didn't understand where it had come from. She guessed it was
simply the fact that he'd just saved her from the wandering
hands of Lex Luthor. Whatever it was, she didn't want to fight
it. She hadn't felt anything like this in a very long time; she
definitely wasn't about to spoil it!

"My name is Erik," he told her with a sly smile.

"Ah, yes, of course," she said. Erik, she knew, was the other
name by which The Phantom of the Opera was known. "Pleased to
meet you. I am Guinevere."

"My Queen," he whispered, reverently.

The words sent pleasant tingles throughout her body.

"How appropriate that I be rescued from Don Juan by the Phantom
of the Opera," Lois told him, trying to hide the reaction his
words had just caused.

Her attempt at humor wasn't completely lost on him. "I would
hate to have seen him triumphant."

She smiled at the double entendre. It was nice to meet someone
who had enough culture to understand what she meant in the first
place, but he apparently was witty enough to continue on the
same path.

They danced in silence for a little while. And then Lois decided
she should try and find out who this man really was. This is why
she was there anyway, wasn't it? Ask questions, find out things,
and write articles about it.

"This is a lovely ball," she said. "I'd never been to one of
these before. Have you?"

"Me either," he confessed.

Lois guessed this meant he was probably some local businessman
who wasn't high up enough on the who's-who list to get invited
to this event the previous years as they were held elsewhere in
the country. She hoped she wasn't unlucky enough to have hooked
up with another reporter, though...

She asked him a few more questions, but none of them gave her
enough information to figure out who was hiding under the mask.
However, the more he spoke, the more Lois got the feeling that
she knew who this man was. She just wasn't able to place him,
yet. She could have just come out and ask, but she rather liked
the whole guessing game. She figured things like these kept her
mind sharp. Although since her previous questions had led her
nowhere, perhaps it was time for a more direct approach.

"I've got the strange impression that we've met before," she
said.

"Your impression would be correct. We've met twice before," the
Phantom replied.

Lois looked at him puzzled. Obviously, he recognized her, but
she was still unable to figure out who he was.

"I must apologize," she said. "I really do not recognize you.
I... wish I did. Then I would know who saved me from my work
partner's drunken clutches."

"There's no need to apologize," he told her. "It's easier for me
to see who you are under your makeup, but it can't possibly be
as simple for you to see through this mask. I'm not certain if I
should tell you who I am, though... You've already run away from
me twice and I would really hate to see you dash out again
tonight."

Lois froze. It couldn't be?

"Um... I... Oh, dear God! But you can't be..."

"Shhh," he said, taking his hand from her waist and placing a
finger gently to her lips. "Please? No names."

She nodded and so he put his arm around her again, but Lois'
feet were stuck to the ground and her body was as stiff as a
board. Clark took that as a sign that the dance was over and so
he let go of her and took a step back.

"Forgive me," he said. "I didn't mean to make you
uncomfortable."

Lois said nothing, she just stood there staring at him. Her mind
was racing and her heart was thundering in her chest.

Clark motioned towards an empty table not too far way. Still
somewhat dazed, Lois nodded and walked with him in that
direction. He pulled out a chair for her, then sat down as
well.

"I thought you said you'd never been to one of these parties,"
she asked finally.

"That's right, I've never been to any of them," he smiled. "It's
just... too much. You know? Too many people."

"Why come this time?" Lois asked, suddenly very curious.

"I... just wanted to see you again," he said after a long
awkward pause.

Lois' eyes grew wide. What was it that he was saying? It had
sounded like he'd willingly come to a party - something he
absolutely never did - because *she* was there? This made no
sense. For all intents and purposes, this man lived away from
the rest of the world. He did not socialize. Ever. Besides, what
would possess him to want to see her again? She'd broken into
his home and insulted him just a few days ago. Something which
most normal people wouldn't be too inclined to forgive very
easily.

"Me?" she asked. "But... I broke into your home. And I...
um..."

Clark could see the panic rising in her expression. She looked
like she might spring off her chair and run away again.

"Please, don't run off again," he said, reaching over the table
to take her hand.

As he placed his hand on top of hers, Lois felt something like a
jolt of electricity run through her. How could a simple touch do
that, she asked herself. She felt his hand go a tad stiff for a
second and then relax again. Apparently he had been taken by
surprise by something as well. Had he felt the same thing she
had?

"I... um... I have to go," she told him, in apology, sliding her
hand from under his. "I'm here for work tonight, actually,
and...."

"I see," Clark said, in a saddened tone.

"I'm sorry... I mean, I really appreciate what you did back
there, but the thing is that... if I don't bring back anything
for tomorrow's edition, I'm going to be in a heap of trouble,
both with my editor and my currently very drunk partner."

"Is there anything I can say that might keep you here just a
little longer?" he asked, hopeful.

"Not unless you're willing to grant me an interview," she
blurted out.

Realizing that she probably shouldn't have said that, she
mumbled an incomprehensible apology and got up from her chair.
She quickly headed off towards a group of people who seemed to
be listening with rapt attention to this one man who was dressed
as Elvis. Perhaps he was someone important, she thought, to have
so many people interested in what he was saying.

"Miss Lane, please don't..." Clark started, but Lois was gone by
the time he could finish his sentence. "...run away from me
again," he whispered, shaking his head miserably.

He wondered why she kept doing that. Taking off like a rocket
every single time they'd met. Was he that frightening? Or was it
just that he had become so inept at this whole "conversation
with other human beings" thing? Perhaps hiding in his home for
so long had started to rob him of his social skills, he thought.
It had been just perfect while they danced, but it seemed as
soon as he had opened his mouth to speak, he'd said all the
wrong things and he'd scared her away. Why couldn't he just have
gone on pretending he was the Phantom and left it at that. She
hadn't objected much to being in his arms, what was it about his
true identity that had caused her to run from him? She couldn't
possibly have known that he was different, could she?

He got up from the table and walked over to Lana. She was
dressed as a fairy, complete with a delicate set of translucent
wings.

"There you are," she said with a sweet smile.

Lana was so glad to see that Clark had ventured further inside
the room. At first she thought he might stay by the door or
cling by her side, afraid of having to speak to anyone. But
clearly that wasn't the case. Perhaps he was looking for his
mystery lady? Not that there was any mystery left as to who she
was, but Lana didn't know whether or not Lois Lane was even here
at all. She knew that she was supposed to be... When she'd
called the Metropolis Star and asked who the invitations had
been given to, pretending to have to put their names on the
guest list, Lana had gotten the confirmation that Miss Lane
would indeed be attending, but that didn't mean she was already
there. Besides, even if she was, it would be hard to tell her
from the other guests even if she had met her before and knew
what she looked like. She didn't know what she was dressed as
anymore than she knew who hid under any of the other costumes.

"I'm leaving," he told her.

"Leaving?" Lana asked, surprised. "I guess you haven't seen her
around, then?"

"Oh... No, I've seen her all right," he said. He let out a sigh
and shook his head. "She ran off again," he whispered finally.

"She did? Oh... I'm sorry," Lana said, stroking his arm
affectionately. "Maybe she's scared of ghosts?" she added, in an
attempt at humor.

"Actually, she ran off pretty much the minute she figured out
who the Phantom was," he explained.

"She realized it was you under there?" Lana was even more
surprised. How could anyone have seen through his costume so
easily?

"I sort of gave myself away. I mean, not in so many words... She
is quite perceptive, really, but I gave her a big clue without
really meaning to. I wish I'd known better and kept my mouth
shut, though!"

"Maybe she was just afraid of what you might do? You know, since
she broke in the other day?" she suggested.

"I don't know." Clark shrugged. "I'm pretty sure something I
said scared the daylights out of her, though. I guess I'm going
to need some refresher courses on the great art of
conversation."

"Oh, come on! You're doing just fine. I'm sure she was just
spooked."

"Yeah well... I'm going back up to my suite. Enjoy yourself,
Lana. It's a great party, you've done a wonderful job with it."

"No, wait! You promised me a dance, remember?" Lana knew it was
pointless trying to keep him here. His sole reason for coming in
the first place was to be able to see Lois Lane. And the woman
had managed to spoil it for him. If she managed to find her,
she'd have a couple words with the woman for sure! She'd give
her a nice big piece of her mind!

"I'm sorry, I... My heart really isn't into it, Lana. I just
want to be alone," he said, sounding downright miserable.

"That's okay," she said. "I understand. Would you like me to
bring you something up, a little later on?"

"Nah... don't bother, I'm fine," he told her as he left the
ballroom and disappeared into a dark corridor that led to where
his private apartments were.

~.~.~.~

Lois saw the Phantom leaving the room, out of the corner of her
eye. She guessed that he would probably not be back again. She
felt somewhat guilty to see him go, as she knew she probably had
something to do with that. He'd said he had come so he could see
her and she'd all but pushed him away.

She'd been so stupid! He was *there*, talking to her, why did
she have to go and make an excuse to go back to work? He *was*
work. He was the subject of the article she desperately wanted
to be able to write. Why bother with any of his guests when she
had him right there? Talk about not having your head screwed on
right! And then when he'd asked if there was anything he could
do so that she wouldn't leave, she'd told him there was no way
unless he gave her an interview? What was wrong with her! For
one thing, this was far from the right way to go about getting
an exclusive from someone who never spoke to reporters in the
first place. And besides, why had she not just kept her big
mouth shut? Dancing with him just then had felt so pleasant and
so right, what could possibly have possessed her to go and ruin
*that*?

She shook her head and looked around the room in search of
someone she might recognize. She still did have work to do, so
she might as well get on with it. She saw someone at the other
end of the room, dressed as Batman. She smiled. She had just the
right question to ask him! She walked over to him and introduced
herself.

After a few minutes of chatting with the Dark Knight, Lois had
found out that Batman was really Bruce Wayne. Well, *this*
Batman was Bruce Wayne anyway. She seriously doubted that the
millionaire playboy moonlighted as a vigilante. Besides, the
real Batman couldn't possibly be dumb e