Second Choice 
By Nan Smith <hachiban@earthlink.net>
Rated: PG
Submitted: December 2007

Disclaimer: The familiar characters and settings in this story
are not mine. They are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros.,
December 3rd Productions and whoever else can legally claim
them. I am not making any profit from this venture into the
world of Lois and Clark. Parts of story contain portions of
scenes from the Lois and Clark script, "The Foundling" and those
parts are hereby credited to the writers of that episode of Lois
and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. Any new characters,
scenes, dialogue and the story itself belong to me. 


Clark Kent hurried out the door of his Algebra class. It was the
end of sixth period and school was out. If he moved quickly,
he'd get a chance to talk to her before she caught her ride with
Ronnie Davis again. 

He left the building through a side exit and took advantage of
his speed to make it around the building and to the front gate
before she could possibly get there. Then he spent the next ten
minutes wondering where she was. She had been waiting here for
her ride every day for the past three days and now, the day he
needed to talk to her, she wasn't here. 

She'd been at school today. He'd seen her a couple of times,
passing between classes, but it seemed as if she'd been avoiding
him, which had bothered him. They'd been good friends since the
early summer when her mother had suddenly moved into an
apartment in town, bringing her two daughters with her. She'd
been almost sixteen and the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen
in his life. They had met at Maisie's Diner, when he'd seen her
sitting in a corner by the old fashioned jukebox, sipping a
milkshake and watching the crowd of local kids chattering and
laughing at the big table in the center of the room. He'd
watched her surreptitiously for almost an hour until she'd
gotten up to leave, wishing he dared to go over and introduce
himself. And then Pete Ross had saved the day completely by
accident. He'd been crossing the room with a tray of hamburgers
and fries and hadn't seen her coming. He'd bumped into her and,
in his effort to save the tray of food, managed to knock the
girl's purse to the floor. 

Clark reached out, steadying the tray for the critical instant
that it took Pete to regain his balance and then turned and bent
quickly to rescue the small purse. He'd straightened up to face
the slightly flustered girl. "Sorry for my clumsy friend. Are
you all right, Miss?" 

She'd nodded and accepted the purse. "Thanks," was all she'd
said, but her voice seemed to vibrate along every nerve ending
in his body. 

"No problem," he said. "I haven't seen you before. Just passing
through?" 

She'd shaken her head. "We're new here," she said. "Mom and my
sister and me." 

"Oh." He'd extended a hand. "Well, welcome to Smallville. I'm
Clark Kent." 

"Lois Lane," she'd told him. 

"Nice to meet you, Lois," he'd said. "Since we're going to be
neighbors, would you like to join us?" He'd had no idea why he
asked. His voice seemed to have taken on a life of its own. 

She smiled a little but shook her head. "I have to get home,"
she told him. "Mother's probably going to ... wonder where I've
been." 

He'd been conscious of a sense of disappointment but it would
have looked strange if he'd tried to change her mind. Instead,
he'd smiled at her. "Okay. I guess I'll see you around town,
then." 

It had been a simple enough meeting but it had been the
beginning of the biggest change in his life since he had seen
his parents killed at the age of ten. 

Of course Lana hadn't missed the short exchange and he'd braced
himself for the inevitable interrogation that followed. It came
the instant the door closed behind Lois Lane. 

"Who was that girl, Clark?" Lana's sharp voice had cut across
the sounds of conversation around the table. 

"Just a girl." For some reason, Clark had felt slightly
defensive -- but he often felt that way these days. Lana was the
head cheerleader for the Smallville Stingrays, Smallville High's
football team, and one of the social leaders on campus, and she
had been his friend since they had been about five or six. She
always had a swarm of boys hanging around her but she recently
seemed to be trying to separate him from the herd and mark him
as her own special possession. At first it had been flattering
but this time the implied ownership was an irritant. Lana had no
real right to question him about people that he spoke to in
passing. It wasn't as if they were going steady or anything. 

"Where did you meet her?" Lana persisted. Clark took a deep
breath and mastered his irritation. Pete, he'd noticed, had
rejoined the crowd at the table and was distributing the food
but he was also studiously *not* looking at Clark and Lana. 

"I met her here, just now," Clark said, trying to soothe Lana's
bristles. "Pete knocked her purse out of her hand. It would have
been rude not to have helped her." 

"I've told you over and over that you're too polite," Lana said.
"It wouldn't have hurt her to pick up her own purse." 

"No," he answered as mildly as possible, "but that isn't the way
my parents taught me to behave." 

They'd locked eyes and he saw Lana close her lips firmly
together. He was probably in for a lecture later, he thought,
but maybe he could disappear for a while and give her time to
get over her annoyance -- although lately Lana hadn't seemed so
willing to let things lie. Clark didn't want to fight and he
didn't want to lose her as a friend, which meant he'd probably
have to listen to a monologue from her later, saying nothing to
defend himself. Eventually, she would wind down and, if not
exactly give up on the subject, at least she wouldn't mention it
more than once or twice a day for a week or two. After all,
things could be much worse than they were -- at least that was
what Lana told him. He hadn't argued. Ever since Jonathan and
Martha Kent had died in that car accident, he'd been bouncing
around in foster homes of one kind or another. Some had been
good ones, some hadn't. The current one was the home of Wayne
Irig and his wife, Nettie. They'd been friends of his parents
years ago and he'd felt more at home with them than he had with
most of the others. Wayne wasn't much of a talker but he and
Clark had spoken a little of Clark's plans after Smallville
High. He had been thinking hard about what he was going to do
with his life as an adult, and his plans didn't include sticking
around Smallville, at least initially. 

This fall would be his senior year and in February he would turn
eighteen, which meant that the local Social Services would have
no more say in his living arrangements or in his life. He'd been
working as hard as he could to qualify for scholarships at
Midwest State University and it looked as if his efforts might
be paying off in the near future. He'd held an "A" average for
his first three years at Smallville High and he had every
intention of doing the same in his upcoming senior year. It
really wasn't that hard, and he often wondered why it seemed to
be so difficult for other students in his classes. And then, if
things worked out right, he was headed for Midwest State to
study journalism. His mother and father had told him often
enough that a college education might not be absolutely
necessary for his life as an adult but it sure smoothed the
road. His mother had held a bachelor's degree in English, he had
discovered a couple of years ago while secretly going through
their things in the attic of the old farmhouse, and Jonathan
Kent had attended two years at Midwest Junior College. They'd
always wanted the best for him and if they said he should go to
college, then he'd do his best to follow their wishes. 

And he was *not* going to put the old farmhouse and the land, as
Lana's father had urged him to do, up for sale. It was the home
where he had spent the first ten years of his life and the ten
happiest years as well. Some day he might change his mind but he
wouldn't allow anyone to pressure him into doing something that
he might regret. 

It had turned out, much to Clark's surprise, that the house had
been paid off some years ago and Jonathan and Martha had made
arrangements to have the property taxes automatically paid
through some kind of fund in Clark's name, in case something
happened to them before he had reached the age of eighteen. They
had left the power of attorney in the hands of Wayne Irig, and
Wayne had told him of it when he'd mentioned Lewis Lang's
advice. 

"I've managed it all these years for you," Wayne had told him.
"If you want to sell it I'll do it but do you think Martha and
Jonathan would want you to?" 

"I don't know," Clark had answered, "but I don't want to. At
least not yet." 

"Well, you can't sell it without my signature until you're
twenty-one," Wayne had said shortly. "If he keeps after you,
send him to me. Did you know that he's invested in real estate?
Made a lot of his money buyin' and sellin' houses -- flippin'
'em, it's called. He wouldn't cheat you -- Lewis is honest, but
you have to watch him. I'd get advice from somebody who doesn't
have an interest in it 'f I were you." 

"I will," Clark had said. The thought that Lana's father might
have an interest in his parents' home just for the money
involved made his stomach feel a little funny, but the next time
Lewis Lang had mentioned it, Clark had followed Irig's advice.
Somehow, the subject hadn't come up since. 

The Langs had been friends of his since he could remember but it
was things like that that made him glad that he hadn't told them
about the strange things that were happening to him. His mother
and dad would have known what to do but he didn't. He always
felt at a disadvantage with Lana's incredibly suave and polished
father. And now Lana was acting as if he were somehow her
property. It was just as well, he thought, that he hadn't
mentioned his plans to anyone but Wayne Irig, and Wayne wasn't
one to gossip. 

Only -- He glanced in the direction that Lois Lane had gone. He
found himself wishing that Lana had not been here to see the
little chance meeting. 

********** 

Clark fidgeted as students emerged from the school in chattering
clumps, some heading for the bus stop where Smallville's one
school bus waited patiently for them. Others drifted away,
starting out on their walk home or stopping to talk with their
friends. Lois still hadn't shown up and he was getting worried.
He supposed he could drop by her mother's apartment and look to
see if she was there. He doubted that she'd left early, though.
Lois was a hard worker, and her grades were as good as his. He'd
seen her name on the "A" honor roll three times this year and
fully expected to see it there again next week after finals. 

He'd run into her again a couple of days after their first
meeting at Maisie's and fortunately the next time Lana hadn't
been anywhere around. Clark had been leaving football practice
-- the Stingrays practiced twice a week even during the summer,
in order to be in shape when the school year started again, and
Clark never missed a session. He'd been headed home when he'd
encountered Lois Lane and a younger girl who resembled her a
good deal as they emerged from the Smallville Market, each with
a bag of groceries. 

"Hi," he said. 

"Oh ... hi." Lois smiled faintly at him. "...Clark, right?" 

"Clark Kent," he said. 

"I remember. This is my sister, Lucy." 

"Pleased to meet you," he said, automatically. 

Lois's sister must be in the neighborhood of three or four years
younger than Lois. She smiled at him and batted her brown eyes.
"Hi." 

"Hi," Clark said. "Shopping for dinner?" 

Lois nodded without answering. Clark eyed the bag that she was
clutching against her and decided that she was carrying the
lion's share of the groceries. 

"Let me help you," he said, quickly. "Do you have a car around
here?" 

Lois had shaken her head. "We're only going about a block. We
live in the Sun Crest Apartments." 

"Oh," Clark said. He intercepted the can that tried to fall out
of Lucy's bag. "At least let me carry the milk for you." He
reached for the carton that was tipping perilously from the top
of Lois's bag and caught it as it overbalanced. The bag itself
looked as if it were in danger of ripping wide open at any
second. 

"That's all right," Lois said hastily. "We'll be fine." 

Clark smiled at her. "You're going to ruin my reputation," he
told her. "I'm supposed to be the town good guy. Let me help."
He'd taken the bag out of her arms as he spoke and handed her
the milk. "It won't hurt if I help you carry these home." 

"Well -- okay." Lois seemed to him to be a little reluctant but
at the moment didn't want to make an issue of it. 

"Lead the way," Clark said. Lois glanced at him and then --
still reluctantly, it seemed -- obeyed. 

The Sun Crest Apartments were a little more than a block from
the Smallville Market and he'd followed Lois up the steps to
Apartment 2C. At the door she paused, inserted her key into the
lock, turned it and reached out to reclaim the bag he carried.
"Thanks for the help," she told him. 

He relinquished the bag to her. "You're welcome," he said. He
could hear her heart beating twice as fast as normal. "If you --
if you ever need any help, you can always ask me, you know." 

She had smiled at him a little oddly. "I'll remember that." She
pushed open the door and gestured her younger sister ahead of
her. She'd given him another smile and followed Lucy. The door
closed. 

Clark stood for a moment, frowning, and then did what he'd told
himself he shouldn't do. He called it x-ray vision since it
allowed him to see through just about anything, and this time he
trained it on the door of the apartment and strained his
enhanced hearing to hear the voices inside. 

At once he heard Lois's voice. "You'd better check on Mother,"
she told her sister. "I'll put the stuff away." 

Lucy set down her small bag of groceries and left the kitchen.
Curious, Clark followed her with his hearing and special vision.


A blond woman was sprawled on the sofa in the living room, a
bottle that had contained vodka, he thought, lying on its side
on the floor. And with that, Lois's reticence and reluctance to
let him help her became clear. Clark grimaced slightly. Lois's
mother had been drinking. It seemed likely that if the girls
were going to eat dinner tonight, it would be Lois who cooked. 

He paused for another moment, watching Lois as she began to
empty the bags. It seemed that dinner tonight was going to be
ham sandwiches. 

Quietly, he turned and descended the short flight of stairs to
the street. 

********** 

Clark bit his lip, looking around. Most of the other students
had left the school grounds and the school bus was pulling away
from the curb as he watched, to take the students who lived in
the outlying areas, such as the scattered farms that surrounded
Smallville, back to their homes. There was still no sign of
Lois. It didn't look as if she was coming and yet he'd seen her
in the hallway during the break between fifth and sixth period.
She hadn't skipped class; he was sure of that. She never skipped
class. He'd even seen her come to school once with the flu and
had attempted to talk her into going home, without success. To
be sure, he hadn't tried too hard. Lois could be hard headed
when she chose. Scratch that, he thought with a wry smile. Lois
could be as obstinate as one of Wayne Irig's pigs but he
secretly admired her for it. He'd give her another ten minutes,
he thought, and then he would start hunting for her. Something
had been bothering her for the last couple of days but he hadn't
asked, figuring that it was her business. She'd spent most of
the time avoiding him, and that *did* bother him. They'd become
pretty good friends over the last year. Clark had never met
another girl like her. If something was worrying her, she had to
know that she could tell him anything and that he would do his
best to help her if he could. 

Two days after he'd discovered Mrs. Lane's secret, he'd met Lois
escorting her sister to the public library. It was the last week
of June and the weather was typical -- hot and humid, with no
trace of rain in sight. Clark trotted up beside them. "Hi." 

"Hi," Lois said. 

He glanced briefly at the sign on the building, announcing the
Smallville Public Library. "Looking for something to read?" 

Lucy nodded, smiling admiringly at him. "Hi," she said. She
fluttered her eyelashes at him. Clark wondered for a moment how
old Lois's sister was, but if Lucy was the flirtatious sister,
Lois seemed to be the more serious one. 

"We don't know many people in town and there's nothing much to
do," Lois said, "so we figured we'd get some books." 

Clark grinned. "Well, actually there's a lot to do, but you
probably haven't been here long enough to get into the town
grapevine," he said. "Anyhow, we've got a pretty good library.
If you want a particular book and it isn't there, just ask for
it. Mabel can order it for you and it'll be here in a couple of
days." 

"Mabel?" Lois asked. 

"Our librarian, Mabel Denning," Clark fell in beside the girls
as they strolled toward the library. "She used to be the senior
librarian in charge of a big library in Queens -- in New York --
but when she retired she came out here to be near her family." 


"Family?" Lois asked. 

"Uh huh," Clark said. "Her brother owns the biggest dairy
operation in the county. Anyway, after a while she got bored
with goofing off and offered to take over the library because
our last librarian eloped with Principal Talbot's son -- and
then he joined the Navy and they wound up in Guam, so we didn't
have a librarian. Mabel's been running Smallville's library for
two years." 

"It's probably almost a vacation for her after working in New
York," Lois said. "But how come you know all about it?" 

"That's the way Smallville is," Clark said. "Everybody pretty
much knows everything about everybody else. Plus, when she took
over I interviewed her for the high school paper." 

"You're on the school paper?" Lois asked quickly. Her expression
had gone from one of mild interest to that of suppressed
excitement. 

"Yeah," Clark said. "I've been the editor since my junior year.
Why?" 

"I was on *my* school's paper," Lois said. "The 'Metropolis
Falcon'. I want to get on the paper at Smallville High, too.
I'll be a junior this year." 

"Great," Clark said. "It probably won't be like the paper for a
big city high school but we're pretty proud of it." He opened
the library door for Lois and her sister. "In the meantime,
there's a bunch of us that are going to have a swimming party
down at the lake tomorrow. If you and Lucy would like to come,
I'm sure my friends would like to meet you." 

Lois shook her head. "I don't know anybody but you," she said.
"Besides, if I came with you, what would your girlfriend say?" 

"I don't have a girlfriend," Clark said. "At least, not a steady
one." 

"The blond girl you were talking to the other day -- after I
left." 

How had she seen that? he wondered. It sounded to him like Lois
Lane noticed a lot of things that most people didn't. "That was
Lana Lang. She's an old friend of mine but she's not my
girlfriend," he said. 

"She didn't look very old to me," Lois said. 

"I just meant I've known her since kindergarten," Clark amended.
"I've dated her a few times but she's not really my girlfriend.
So, how about the lake, tomorrow?" 

Lois shrugged. "I don't think so. Maybe another time." 

"Okay," Clark had agreed, recalling what he had seen of Lois's
mother that day at their apartment. She probably didn't want to
leave her mother home alone for very long if she had a drinking
problem, he thought. He glanced at his watch. "I have to head
home. Wayne expects me to help him fix his tractor this
afternoon. I guess I'll see you around town." 

Lois smiled and nodded at him, and then went on into the library
after her sister. 

********** 

He'd met Lois with and without her younger sister several times
during the next couple of weeks and always made an effort to
draw her out a little. In the back of his mind he wondered a bit
at his own determination to get to know her. It wasn't only that
she was, quite simply, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen,
nor did it occur to him to wonder if he was the only one who
thought that. Looking at Lois Lane objectively, she was very
attractive, true, but certainly no more so than Lana Lang or
Rachel Harris, the sheriff's daughter. He'd tried to pin down in
his mind why she was so much prettier than Lana and couldn't
really express it in cold, dry words, but the fact remained that
every time he saw her, her sheer beauty almost took his breath
away. 

On the Fourth of July, he had come into town a little early.
He'd run, careful as usual not to let anyone see him
demonstrating one of the strange powers that had come to him one
by one since he had turned ten, and reported to the Independence
Day Committee, whose job it was to manage the entertainment and
fireworks show this afternoon and evening at the Smallville
Fairgrounds. He'd volunteered a couple of weeks ago to help them
set things up for the evening's entertainment. As he strolled
into the school auditorium, where the morning meeting was taking
place, he saw Lois Lane speaking to one of the committee members
and taking quick notes on a pad of paper. He knew he shouldn't
eavesdrop but the temptation was too much and he trained his
hearing on the two. A minute later, he had to hide a smile. Lois
was interviewing the man. 

Since the Smallville High Breeze was out of business for the
summer, he had to think that maybe she was hoping to get her
article submitted to the town's weekly paper, the Smallville
Press. Lois was nothing if not ambitious. 

As she ended her interview, she glanced over and saw him. After
a moment's hesitation, she approached him with a little smile.
"Hi, Clark. What are you doing here?" 

He grinned. "I'm a volunteer to do the tote and carry work while
they set up things for this evening. I get paid by having a seat
in the best area to see the fireworks. My -- the people I live
with are coming and they get seats, too." 

Lois tilted her head and looked at him oddly. "That's right.
Somebody told me you were an orphan. I'm sorry." 

He shrugged a little uncomfortably. "It was a long time ago." 

She didn't say anything for a moment and then she spoke
abruptly. "My mother and dad just got divorced. That's why Mom
moved out here with Lucy and me." 

"Why Smallville?" he couldn't help asking. "We're one of those
towns that isn't even on most maps." 

Lois looked down for a moment and then squared her shoulders.
"It was a pretty ugly court fight," she said. "Mother brought in
a bunch of witnesses to prove he was cheating on her and he
brought in a bunch of his own to try to prove she wasn't a fit
parent. Anyway, Mother didn't want to be around any of the
people who knew her, after that. She just closed her eyes and
picked the place to move by putting a finger on a map of the
country." 

"That's an interesting way to find a place to live." Clark said,
slightly nonplused. "What about your dad, though? Isn't he
supposed to have visitation rights or something?" 

Lois shrugged a shoulder. "He's too busy with his work. Once I
told him I didn't want to be a doctor, and that nothing he said
could make me change my mind, he wasn't interested anymore. He's
a surgeon -- he treats sports injuries and he's always trying to
find new experimental techniques to help injured athletes. If
you're only his daughter he doesn't have time for you." 

"Oh," Clark said. "That really stinks." 

She shrugged again. "It's all right," she said. Clark didn't
comment but her scent and the speed at which her heart was
beating told him that it was *not* all right. She switched the
subject abruptly, raising her chin. "Anyhow, I'm going into
journalism, and nothing Daddy says or does -- or doesn't do --
is going to stop me." 

Clark found himself smiling at her sheer defiance. Her father
might have rejected her because she refused to adopt the career
he had planned for her, her mother might be an alcoholic, but
Lois Lane would not allow those facts to get in her way. She was
awe-inspiring. "I believe it." 

"Do you have any plans after you graduate?" she asked. 

"Yeah. I'm planning on going to Midwest State. They have a
pretty good journalism program. Mom and Dad left me a little
money in trust, and I do odd jobs around town and at the local
farms to earn as much as I can. I'm going to try out for some of
the scholarships available, too. I graduate next year and I want
to be ready." 

"I thought maybe you'd take over your parents' farm," Lois said.
"Somebody told me your parents left it to you." 

"They did," Clark said. "Maybe I'll rent out the land to
somebody. Wayne would probably like to use the grazing land for
his milk cows -- but I want to be a journalist, not a farmer."
He smiled at her. "Are you interviewing me?" 

He could see the flush climbing up her collarbone. "No -- I
guess it sounded like it, didn't it? No, it's just -- you're
really the only person around here that I know. You always stop
to talk to me, and --" 

"Hey, Clark!" Madeline Peterson called. "Can you put that pile
of boxes in the van, for starters?" 

"Sure," Clark said. He turned back to Lois. "If you're going to
report on the Committee's work, you can follow us around for a
while and see what we do." 

"How did you know that's what I was doing?" she asked. 

"I saw you interviewing Bill Ross," Clark said, nodding at the
pad and pencil in her hands. "I figured there was only one
reason you'd be doing that." 

"Yeah," Lois said. "Good guess. I talked to the Assistant Editor
of the Smallville Press and told him I'd been on my high school
paper. He said if I wanted to do an article about the Fourth of
July show, they'd consider publishing it if it was good enough."


"Sounds good," Clark said, hefting the first box. "I've sold a
couple of articles to them, myself. They do sometimes accept
freelance stuff. If they take yours, I guess you can put it in a
resume folder to show your early work. Where are you planning to
go to college?" 

"I'm not sure," Lois admitted, trailing him out the door toward
Mrs. Peterson's van. "I'd wanted to go to New Troy State but
since I'm going to have to figure out how to pay for it, I might
not be able to go there." 

"New Troy State has a good journalism school," Clark agreed,
"but it isn't the only one. Besides, there are all kinds of
scholarships you can try for. I'll let you have my catalogue on
the ones available if you like." 

Lois opened the rear door of the van for him and he slid the
crate inside. Together, they started back for another one. "I
guess I can find one at the library," Lois said. "You'll need
yours." 

"I've already read it," Clark said, without thinking. "I won't
need it any longer. I'll bring it by this evening if you like."


"Did you make a list or something?" Lois asked, looking at him
oddly. 

"No," he said. "I uh --" He hesitated, wondering if he should
admit it. "I have an eidetic memory." 

"Really? I'd like to have something like that." 

"It's an advantage," Clark admitted, "but it has its drawbacks,
too -- especially when there's something you'd rather forget.
Anyhow, don't tell anybody about it, okay? I have enough trouble
fitting in anyway." He hefted a second box and started for the
van. 

"I think I know what you mean," Lois said. "If you're too smart,
people think you're weird." 

"Something like that," Clark said. "But I *can't* let my grades
slide if I'm going to get into MU, so I just try to act like
everybody else." 

"Why'd you tell me, then?" Lois asked. "You can't be sure I'm
not going to blab it all over town." 

He shrugged. "I don't know. I sort of don't think you will." 

"You know, Kent, you're much too trusting," she said. "You're
lucky that this time you guessed right." 

"Who says I was guessing?" Clark said. "Can I help it if I'm a
good judge of character?" 

"Don't push your luck," Lois said. "One of these days you might
be wrong." 

"I'm very selective," Clark told her loftily. "You have to meet
very high standards." 

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Jerk." 

And that had been the real beginning of their friendship. 

********** 

The minutes ticked by and Clark still saw no sign of Lois. The
ten-minute mark passed and he unobtrusively lowered his glasses,
scanning the school grounds with his special vision. 

As the area cleared of the boisterous students, he was able to
focus his enhanced hearing as well, listening for her heartbeat.


It had surprised him not long after they had begun to be friends
when he had discovered the fact that he could recognize her
heartbeat. He'd never really thought of it before as a way of
locating someone but five days after the Independence Day
celebration, he'd been working at his part time job at Maisie's
Diner. It had been about the dinner hour and several customers
had come in to eat at the diner. A number of them were high
school students but there were three slightly older couples in
their late twenties with small children, and Mr. and Mrs.
Straub, who were in their sixties, sat at a booth close to the
door. He'd been mopping up a soda spill near the back and he'd
known it when Lois Lane had walked in. 

His back had been to the door, the jukebox had been crooning
some Andy Williams tune, and he'd known just like that when Lois
Lane entered the room. He'd looked around and it had been Lois,
her sister and her mother. 

Lois's mother had been spruced up somewhat -- well, a lot, in
comparison to the day he had seen her. There was a frown on her
face but her hair was tidy and her makeup applied. Her clothing
was neat and she seemed to be mostly sober, although Clark could
definitely smell the whiskey that she'd apparently imbibed not
too long ago. He guessed that Lois had probably wanted to get
her mom away from the apartment and the booze this evening. 

Quickly, he finished up his mopping job and went into the back
to wash his hands off. A moment later, he re-emerged with a tray
bearing menus, silverware, napkins and three glasses of water. 

The three Lanes had seated themselves in a corner booth and he
stopped by the table, setting out the contents of the tray. "Can
I bring you anything to drink while you decide?" he inquired. 

Lois's eyebrows rose. "Just how many jobs do you have?" she
asked curiously. 

"Three," Clark said. "I work here Monday, Wednesday and Friday
afternoon. Hi, Lucy," he added as the younger girl smiled
flirtatiously at him. At eleven going on twelve, she was
definitely out of his age range even if he'd been looking for a
girlfriend -- which he kind of was, but it wasn't Lucy. It
wasn't even Lana, now. 

Lana had been annoyed with him ever since he'd convinced Lois
and her sister to stay and watch the fireworks show with him and
the Irigs. He figured she'd get over it after a while, though.
She'd been dating Pete Ross ever since and making sure he knew
it, which he found a little amusing. Lana throwing a tantrum
wasn't new and, for some reason, this time her attempt to make
him jealous didn't bother him a bit -- which kind of surprised
him. All of a sudden, it just seemed as if all that stuff was a
bit juvenile. 

Like every other red-blooded guy in Smallville, he'd competed
for dates with Lana Lang ever since she had reached the age
where her mother had allowed her to date. Lana was the prettiest
girl in town, and knew it. They had gone to school together
since kindergarten and most of the time she and Clark had been
in the same class. She had become a cheerleader almost at once
when she entered ninth grade and had been voted the most popular
girl at Smallville High three years in a row. She'd had
boyfriends since she was six, when Clark had been the favored
one, and there had always been a group of boys who vied with
each other for her attention. 

Since they'd been in high school Lana always made a point of
dating the big man on campus, whoever he was at the time, but
she wasn't above dating a good-looking guy on the side now and
then. It had only been since about halfway through their junior
year that she had suddenly seemed to start favoring Clark again.
At first he'd enjoyed the envy that it had sparked in the other
guys but after a while it had begun to dawn on his
hormone-soaked brain that Lana wasn't as interested in him as
she was in his status on campus. 

He'd told Lois that it was difficult for him to fit in, and that
he tried to act like everyone else -- which he did, and with a
good deal of success. He'd noticed for some time that Lana dated
the football players a lot. Anyway, he'd yielded to temptation
on a couple of occasions and made spectacular touchdowns, even
though he knew he probably shouldn't. It had been right after
that, he recalled now, that Lana had started to indicate that
dating him wouldn't be completely unacceptable to her. At first
that had been enough but lately it seemed that she was
developing a highly possessive attitude. That hadn't been so bad
either, until she'd seen him talking to Rachel Harris. Rachel
had been a friend of his for years, and the conversation was
perfectly innocent but Lana hadn't liked it a bit. He'd known
practically since he had met her that she could sulk very
successfully when she didn't get her way. He'd thought it was
rather cute -- but this had been the first time she'd done it to
him and now somehow it wasn't so cute anymore. She'd dated Ned
Wexler for a week to punish him and he'd naturally been jealous.
It had happened a couple of times since, too, and he'd begun to
realize that he really didn't like the feeling that Lana was
trying to push him around. He hadn't bargained for her
determination to keep him away from all other possible rivals.
Just because he happened to be dating her didn't mean that he
wasn't allowed to talk to anyone except the people on Lana's
approved list. That was how things had stood until the afternoon
that he'd met Lois Lane. 

Since then, for some reason, Lana's opinion hadn't mattered as
much. It was almost as if he had slipped a chain that he hadn't
known he'd been wearing. If Pete wanted her, he wished his
friend luck and he would certainly never criticize Lana to Pete
or anyone else. Still, somewhere down deep there was almost the
feeling that he'd had a narrow escape. He couldn't quite
understand it, and hadn't really thought about it much. In any
case, it gave him more time to work at his three part time jobs
and the occasional odd job as well. And it gave him time to talk
with Lois. 

Lois wasn't exactly a girlfriend, though, except that she was a
friend and female, but that was all right too. Maybe with time
she would see it differently, he thought hopefully. In the
meantime, she was very nice to be around. 

"This is my mom, Ellen Lane," Lois was saying. "Mother, this is
Clark Kent. He's the editor of the high school paper." 

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lane," Clark said politely. Lois's
mother looked at him narrowly and Clark smiled pleasantly at
her. "What can I get you to drink?" 

Lois and her mother had ordered iced tea and Lucy had asked for
pink lemonade which hadn't surprised Clark. The normal Kansas
summer weather was hot and muggy and people went through a good
deal of soda pop, lemonade, iced tea and ice cream on a normal
day at Maisie's. When he was with a group, Clark always ordered
the same thing the others did. The temperature and humidity
didn't bother him, of course. He'd never known why, except that
it must be part of the strange powers that had begun to make
their appearance not long before his parents had died in that
car crash. If they had survived, maybe they could have explained
what was happening. He often wondered if they'd known anything
about him other than what they had told him but he would never
know, now. In any case, not long after the time he had
accidentally set fire to the Town Hall, when he was thirteen, he
had made up his mind never to tell anyone about his differences.
Fortunately, no one had connected him to the fire and he had
gone to considerable effort to volunteer in the fund-raising
that had eventually resulted in a new building, which had
assuaged his feelings of guilt somewhat. True, it had been an
accident. He certainly hadn't intended to set the fire but he'd
still been responsible and it had been terrifying until he'd
managed to bring the ability under control. He'd spent the next
three days hiding out in an abandoned farm building some miles
from his current foster home before he'd dared to come back. It
had caused a minor ruckus with the Greer family and resulted in
his being placed in another home, but he had known it would have
been much worse if he'd accidentally set their house on fire.
That had been the most frightening of his strange powers to
appear and he certainly hoped that there was nothing else like
that in store for him. 

No new powers had appeared for nearly a year now, and he had
begun to hope that no more would. He'd managed, with time and a
good deal of effort, to learn to control his strange gifts. He
no longer inadvertently looked through people's clothing, or
into places that frequently caused him embarrassment, just as he
no longer accidentally eavesdropped on people's conversations or
set things on fire and so far, at least, no one suspected that
there was anything different about him. If he had his way, no
one ever would. 

Unfortunately -- or maybe fortunately, as it had turned out --
that particular resolution was going to be harder to keep than
he'd imagined at the time. 

********** 

Lois definitely wasn't on the school grounds. He couldn't detect
her heartbeat anywhere around the area. Well, the next place to
check might be her family's apartment. 

Clark started off at a fast trot. A couple of students walking
home from the school glanced at him curiously and one of them --
Joe Turner, whose father ran the Metropolis General Store --
called out to him. "Hey, Clark, where's the fire?" 

He stopped. "Oh -- hi, Joe. Look, have you seen Lois? I -- uh --
need to talk to her about an article she's supposed to write up
for the Breeze. She's in your sixth period class, isn't she?" 

"Yeah," Joe said. "She took off right after the bell rang. I
don't know where she went." 

"I was supposed to meet her after school but she didn't show
up," Clark said. "Maybe she forgot. I'm heading over to her
place. See you tomorrow." 

"Sure." Joe grinned. "If I see her, I'll tell her you're looking
for her." 

"Thanks." Clark turned away and began to jog, again, toward the
Lane apartment. He couldn't help worrying a little. As he had
discovered, over the months he had known her, Lois Lane tended
to get into scrapes a good deal more often than other girls of
his acquaintance, and the fact that she hadn't told him about
whatever was bothering her this time tended to make him worry.
The problem might be personal -- she had enough going on in her
family that it was extremely possible that her feuding parents
were making life miserable for her again -- or it might be about
something that she thought might make a hot story for the
Breeze, or even the Smallville Press. Or it could be something
else. 

Her article about the Independence Day celebration had actually
made it into the paper, in the Community Events section. And
that had led to several more small articles over the following
months. None of them had been earth shattering. This was, after
all, Smallville. And then Clark got his first taste of the real
Lois Lane in action. 

It had been in late November. A light snow coated the ground and
the last thing Clark would have expected to hear as he was
checking Wayne Irig's livestock before closing everything up for
the night was the distant sound of a girl's voice, yelling for
help. And not just any girl's voice. It was the voice of Lois
Lane. 

They had worked together that day on the project of putting
together the next issue of the 'Breeze' and Clark had walked
companionably with her to her apartment, before departing alone
for his solitary run back to the Irig farm. Clark enjoyed her
company; in fact, he had come to the conclusion over the last
few months that Lois was the best friend that he had ever had,
and she seemed to regard him in the same light. Unfortunately,
that was all. She treated him like a brother, although he would
have been more than willing to opt for something a good deal
closer. 

She occasionally dated some of the boys from school but it was
obvious that she wasn't interested in anything serious at this
point. This was high school, after all, and although some of the
denizens of Smallville High would probably marry right out of
school, Lois wasn't likely to be one of them and neither was he.
Lois had told him one time that she had no intentions of getting
involved with anyone until after she'd managed to get her career
on track -- which meant after college, assuming that she figured
out how to get into a good school. Her grades were almost as
good as his own, without the advantage of a photographic memory,
and Clark couldn't see any college or university turning her
down on those grounds but financing was another matter. She
wasn't as confident as he was that she would manage to get the
scholarships she needed to pay for her education. 

Still, as her best friend, he got to spend more time with her
than any of her dates did -- and who could say what might happen
in the future? But even hinting to her that he was thinking such
a thing was bound to seriously spook her. It seemed best to keep
those kinds of thoughts to himself, at least for now. 

He was crossing the yard from the barn toward the house when he
heard the first yell and stopped in his tracks, listening. The
voice was a good distance away and without his enhanced hearing
he certainly wouldn't have heard it. He turned his head,
listening intently and almost at once he heard it again. Lois's
voice, shouting for help. 

Her voice was coming from the northeast, well away from town.
The only things out in that direction were a few small farms
and, still farther away, Harris Lake and the small patch of
woods around it. What the dickens was she doing out there? 

The third shout was more like a scream and was beginning to
sound more than a little scared. Clark made a quick decision. He
hurried to the kitchen door, opened it and stuck his head
inside. Nettie Irig was just setting the coffeepot timer and
turned at the sound of the opening door. 

"Nettie, could you tell Wayne I'm going out to check on Molly? I
didn't see her out there and I want to be sure she hasn't broken
through the fence again." 

"All right," Nettie told him. "Do you need a flashlight?" 

"I've got one," Clark told her. "I'll be back as soon as I can."


He closed the door and began to trot out toward the field but as
soon as he was out of Nettie's sight he began to run in earnest.


Another scream from Lois and this one sounded desperate, but it
gave him a more accurate sense of where she was. She had to be
near the lake. How could she have possibly gotten out there? And
why? 

He increased his speed, listening with every shred of his
enhanced hearing to pick up any more clues of Lois's location.
The farmland passed in a blur of speed as he ran faster than he
had ever run toward the next cry for help, this one sounding
exhausted and almost hopeless. She was not only in the area of
the lake. She was *in* the lake! 

He plunged at full speed into the little growth of trees that
bordered the lake and burst through onto the narrow beach.
Spread out before him, Harris Lake gleamed like silver in the
starlight. The sound of splashing met his ears and instantly he
zeroed in on the source with his enhanced vision. Lois Lane
floundered weakly near the center of the lake. The temperature
had to be barely above freezing, and Clark knew all too well
what the effect of the frigid water would be on a human body.
Lois had to be hypothermic already and the chances were that if
he had been only a few minutes later, she would have been
unconscious and sinking toward the bottom of the lake. 

Somewhere beyond her, Clark could see the dark silhouette of a
wooden rowboat moving quietly away across the surface. Only he
would have been likely to hear the faint creak of oarlocks or
the very faintest of splashes as the oars dipped into the icy
lake water. The male figure at the oars was apparently unaware
of the girl, floundering desperately only a short distance away.
The situation was puzzling but Clark didn't hesitate. Shoving
all questions aside, he ran into the water in a charge that
became a surface dive. It would be far better if the man in the
boat did not become aware of what he was doing, or even of his
presence. By the time he got to her, Lois would almost certainly
be in no condition to wonder how he had come there or to ask any
awkward questions. Inevitably, he would have to deal with those
later, after he'd had time to think, but whatever the
consequences might be for him, he couldn't let her die! 

Under the lake's surface, he moved with all the speed and
stealth at his disposal. His vision wasn't quite as good in the
water, but now he brought into play his x-ray vision and
enhanced hearing, locating Lois instantly. He moved almost
silently through the water with the speed of any water dweller
and reached her within seconds. 

Lois had begun to sink. Her desperate struggles had subsided to
ineffectual flutters of her hands in the water and he could see
that she was barely conscious. Hypothermia was taking its deadly
toll. Without ceremony he thrust her upward, getting her mouth
and nose in the air and grasped her instinctively in a
lifeguard's hold. Gripping her with one arm across her body, he
swept her from head to toe with his heat vision, warming her
quickly. Efficiently, he rolled onto his back and began a rapid
underwater kick that sent them both through the water with the
swiftness of a speedboat. 

Across the lake, the shadowy rowboat and its occupant continued
its slow, steady progress. The man at the oars was apparently
unaware of the drama that was taking place a short distance
away, which was exactly as Clark had intended. If he had to
explain to Lois what had happened, he certainly didn't want
witnesses around. 

His feet touched bottom and he stood up, carrying Lois Lane.
Swiftly, he ran his heat vision over her again as he sloshed out
of the lake and onto solid ground and then warmed the ground
itself before stretching her out on it. As gently as he could,
he divested her of her sodden coat and hung the garment over a
convenient tree limb. Then he stood back and swept her again
with diffused heat vision, drying her clothing as he did so and
warming her body. 

Steam rose from her in a cloud, white as ghosts in the freezing
air. He had knelt beside her and was holding her in a sitting
position while he dried her back when she seemed to come
suddenly to consciousness. She twisted like an eel and struck at
him with the edge of one hand. 

Clark caught the hand in time to prevent its connecting with the
side of his neck. "Hey! Take it easy! It's me!" 

Her struggles stopped as she froze in place. Their eyes met. 

"Clark?" she whispered. 

********** 

During the workweek, between three-thirty and four o'clock in
the afternoon on Smallville's Main Street was probably the
noisiest time and place in the town, Clark reflected as he
approached the Lane apartment. High school had let out and
teenaged kids had been set free for the rest of the day. One
couldn't say that rush hour in Smallville was very intense but
there were still a respectable number of vehicles trying to make
their way home from town. Adding to the noise, most of them had
their radios going, playing music or broadcasting the rush hour
news and that made it even more difficult for him to tune his
hearing to listen for Lois Lane's heartbeat. 

He couldn't hear it and he hesitated, wondering what he should
do. Most likely she wasn't in the building but he couldn't be
certain. At last, he reluctantly lowered his glasses and peeked
through the walls to scan the apartment. 

Lucy Lane was watching television, lying on her stomach on the
floor and munching on the contents of a bag of potato chips.
Fragments of the chips were scattered all about her on the
carpet and a Social Studies book lay on its face next to her,
obviously abandoned in favor of the afternoon cartoons. 

Behind her on the sofa, and totally ignored by Lois's sister,
Ellen Lane lay either asleep or passed out. The bottle of vodka
sitting open on the end table and the half-full glass beside it
would lend probability to either scenario. 

Well, that settled that. If she were present, Lois would never
allow Lucy to ignore her schoolwork in order to watch cartoons.
He glanced into the kitchen. 

As might be expected, the stove was bare of any signs of
preparation for dinner. The bowls that had contained this
morning's breakfast cereal were still sitting in the sink and
there was no trace of any of the items that Lois might use to
prepare dinner for her sister and herself sitting out. There
were a few cans of soup in the cupboard and the freezer held a
number of frozen dinners -- probably Lois's attempt to make sure
that her sister consumed the occasional balanced meal, he
thought with amusement. Lois had never made a secret of the fact
that cooking was not one of her skills. Smallville High had a
requirement that students must take four semesters of a
selection of elective classes during their four-year sojourn
within its walls and Lois's previous school had only required
two, which necessitated that she take two more. She had opted
for Small Engine Repair and Metal Shop, and, since the school
had an unreasonable objection to a female in both of those
classes, she had been forced to substitute Home Economics in
place of Metal Shop in her second semester. 

Two weeks later, after three fire alarms and three enthusiastic
evacuations of students from the Home Ec classroom -- and that
wing of the school -- in order for the noxious fumes from one of
Lois's creations to be cleared, Lois was transferred summarily
to Metal Shop at the urgent request of the Home Ec teacher. 

It hadn't been through any intentional scheme that Lois might
have hatched, although he knew that she was completely capable
of executing such a plan. It was simply that Lois knew her
limitations, and the school administration hadn't believed her.
Lois Lane and kitchens mixed with all the alacrity of oil and
water. Over the last months, Clark, who had successfully taken
Home Ec in his Sophomore year, had cooked a number of meals in
the Lane kitchen for the girls and their parent. 

He glanced once more at Ellen Lane and shook his head. He knew
that Lois wanted to try to get her mother into some kind of
alcohol rehabilitation facility, but she had no way of forcing
Ellen to cooperate and her father had washed his hands of the
problem. That didn't, however, prevent him from calling up
periodically to argue with his ex-wife over some detail or other
-- which inevitably meant more trouble for Lois and Lucy for the
next few days. 

Well, Lois obviously hadn't come home after school. So now where
should he look? Clark shoved his hands into his pockets and
began to walk along the street, his glasses halfway down his
nose and unobtrusively scanning the stores that he passed on
both sides of the street. He was beginning to be seriously
concerned. Lois was either very upset about something, in deep
trouble, or off with Ronnie Davis. 

He doubted the last. Ronnie wasn't really her boyfriend. He'd
been around for a little over four months and had dated a number
of the local girls, Lois included. The town grapevine said he
was the son of Harvey Davis, who was the new owner of Jackson's
Mercantile and Dry Goods. The business had changed hands a few
months ago when the original owner had abruptly retired and left
town. Rumor said that he had moved in with his widowed daughter
in Kansas City. Davis, the new owner, had taken over at once and
the town was slowly getting to know him. He seemed like a nice
enough guy -- a widower with two sons, one of which was a senior
at Kansas Technological Institute. So far, Clark had heard that
Ronnie, the younger boy, had graduated from high school in
Wichita and was taking a year off before entering Business
School. He evidently found small town life boring and had taken
to entertaining himself by seeking the company of the
best-looking girls in town, much to the disgust of the local
boys. Lana had dated him a few times, Clark had learned from a
somewhat disgruntled Pete Ross. He drove a Mustang convertible
and it predictably drew the attention of the girls. Rachel had
gone with him once or twice and so had Ruby Everett and several
others. Lois, who was, in Clark's opinion at least, the
prettiest girl in the school and unquestionably popular with the
boys, had also dated him. Clark knew better than to argue with
her -- her dating life was her business but not for the first
time he wished Lois's father had been around to put his foot
down. Her mother certainly wouldn't. Ellen Lane lived much of
her life in a drunken haze, and if the school officials had
known of it, Clark had no doubt that the state's social workers
would have been called in. 

Still, the Ronnie option seemed unlikely today. He had picked
her up after school for the last three days, but he'd done that
for Lana and Rachel, and several others at different times as
well. Besides, he hadn't been there today and Clark figured he
was out doing whatever he usually did at this time of day when
he wasn't chasing girls. What worried him more was the
possibility that Lois was off investigating some story in her
own inimitable way, which usually meant she was doing something
dangerous. 

As she had been doing the first night he had saved her life at
Harris Lake. 

When she had come suddenly to consciousness and struck at him,
only his super-human reflexes had saved Lois from a probable
broken or badly bruised hand. She'd stared at him unbelievingly
and then her rigid body relaxed suddenly against him. He
released her hand and it dropped to her side. "What are you
doing here? Where are we?" 

"What happened?" he asked, in the vain hope that he might
distract her from the questions. The rowboat had vanished and
from somewhere in the distance he heard the sound of a car's
engine starting up. "How did you get in the lake?" 

Lois was peering down at herself in the darkness and he saw her
hands fingering the cloth of her blouse and slacks. "What are
you doing here?" she asked. "And what happened to my clothes?" 

"What do you mean?" he asked. He was stalling, trying to delay
the inevitable. "I heard you screaming for help and --" 

Her hands flashed from her clothing to his. "Clark, you're
soaking wet! We've got to get you out of those wet clothes
before you freeze. Where's Wayne's car?" 

"Uh --" 

Lois turned her head, looking around in the dimness. Beside
them, the smooth surface of the lake gave a faint illumination
to the scene. She couldn't see as well as he could, but she
probably could see enough. "Where are we?" 

"By the lake," he said, a sense of fatalism possessing him.
There was really no rational explanation that he could give her
-- at least not one that she would believe. "Why were you in the
lake?" he asked again. 

"Where's my coat?" she asked, totally ignoring his question. "At
least you can put that on until we can get you into something
dry." 

"Uh --" he fumbled. Lois got to her knees and made an effort to
get to her feet. He grabbed her as she swayed unsteadily. "Take
it easy. You nearly drowned -- or froze to death. I'm not sure
which would have happened first. I pulled you out. What
happened? How did you get here?" 

Lois sank back to the sand, but she was beginning to shiver in
the icy air. "Clark, what happened? How did you find me, and why
are my clothes dry -- and where's my coat?" 

Clark wished he could think faster, which was odd because
usually he could think faster than he moved. Surreptitiously, he
fanned her with diffused heat vision again, warming her
slightly. In the darkness the swath of heat vision produced the
faintest of pale red shimmerings in the air. Lois, however, was
looking around for her missing coat. "It's hanging on the limb
behind you," he said. "Just a minute." He got to his feet to
retrieve the sodden garment. 

Lois managed to get to her knees again and reached for it. "My
coat's still wet. Clark, what happened? How did you hear me, and
how did you save me without freezing to death?" 

He sighed and gave in. "Look, I'll explain it all later, if
you'll tell me what happened to you. Deal?" 

She hesitated and he saw her nod a little reluctantly. "Somebody
tried to kill me." 

"*What?*" It was only by a supreme effort of will that he kept
his voice low. "*Who?*" 

She shrugged. "I don't know his name." 

"Well then, why?" 

"He caught me checking out his greenhouse." 

"He tried to kill you for trespassing?" A few things were
starting to add up, however. A few months ago, Sheriff Harris,
Rachel's dad, had found a field of marijuana plants, growing
quite innocently between the completely legitimate corn stalks
in a field, near a tumbledown shack well on the outskirts of
Smallville. He'd been trying for some time to find the source of
the pot that seemed to have invaded the town in recent months,
Clark knew, but it had been Wayne Irig who had provided the
clue. He'd seen the cultivated field by accident while tracking
down his bovine escape artist, Molly, on property that shouldn't
have been cultivated in over a year and was up for sale to boot,
and mentioned it to the Sheriff. 

"Well -- not exactly," Lois admitted. "There's been a lot of pot
showing up in town again. I started looking around and I found
out that Eddie Driscoll was selling it. So I followed him this
afternoon." 

"*Eddie Driscoll* tried to kill you?" 

Lois shook her head. "No, not Eddie. There's a farm just east of
the Driscoll property. The little one that sells eggs." 

Clark knew at once the property of which she spoke. "It's not
really a farm. It's just a house. They grow some vegetables and
have a bunch of chickens and sell the eggs. A guy retired there
a few years ago." 

"Yeah, well, he's got a big greenhouse in his back yard. I
followed Eddie in Mom's car, and he went over there and talked
to the owner, and then he bought a bag full of something and
drove away again. So I waited until dark and started snooping
around. He's growing pot in the greenhouse. Rows and rows of it.
It looks like a pretty big operation. And he's got this fancy
set-up for drying plants, and big bags of the dried stuff stored
in the back --" 

"And you got caught," Clark said. 

"Well -- yeah. Pretty much. The guy had a rifle. He tied me up
and put me in his car and drove out here. He made me get in a
rowboat and rowed out into the middle of the lake. Then he took
off the ropes and made me jump in the lake. I figured I could
stay afloat until he left and then swim to shore. I'm a good
swimmer, and the lake isn't that big, but it was so cold I --" 

"Yeah," Clark said. "I get it." 

"Anyway, I saw enough. We need to tell Sheriff Harris, and then
I can write it up for the Smallville Press. Don't you see,
Clark, I can get my name on a big story -- enough that they
might hire me part time. If I can do that, I'll be able to earn
more money for school." 

He nodded. "I understand," he said. "I just wish you'd told me.
I wouldn't have tried to steal your story -- and you probably
wouldn't have almost gotten killed." 

She shrugged, looking down at her hands, clasped in her lap. "I
know. I should have. I just didn't think about it." She looked
up. "I sometimes do things without thinking and get into
trouble. Daddy used to get mad at me for being reckless. But we
have the story. I *saw* the plants growing in the greenhouse and
the guy doesn't know I'm alive -- does he?" 

Clark shook his head. "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I saw
him. He was rowing away when I got here and realized you were in
the lake. But the problem is, it's your word against his.
Sheriff Harris has to have more to go on than that if he's going
to get a search warrant." 

She stopped and it seemed to him as if some of the life went out
of her voice. "Oh. Yeah, I guess you're right. I guess I need
some kind of evidence, huh?" 

"Yeah," Clark said. His eyes met hers. "We need to go back.
Together." 

She looked quickly up at him. "Would you? You'd help me?" 

He couldn't resist putting an arm around her. "You know I will."


"Great!" She started to get to her feet and this time he gave
her a hand. She hugged her arms around herself. "Brr! It's
freezing, and my coat's still wet -- and so are your clothes.
How did you get me dry, anyway? You promised you'd tell me what
happened. And where's Wayne's car?" 

Well, the hope that she'd forget about his part of the story was
obviously futile. He sighed. "I didn't bring it." 

"Then how did you get here? And how did you hear me screaming,
anyway?" 

Clark sighed again. "This is going to take some explaining.
Look; let me fix your coat first so you don't freeze to death.
Keep a watch out. We don't want the guy in the rowboat to come
back again." He took the article of clothing and hung it back on
the tree limb, spreading the lower part of the garment
one-handed. 

"Yeah." She looked oddly at him for an instant, one hand again
tentatively feeling the dry fabric of her jeans, and then back
toward the lake. "I don't see anybody." 

"Keep watching anyway. If he shows up with his rifle we could
both be in trouble." 

Lois wrapped her arms around her torso and stood looking toward
the lake, obviously taking her assignment seriously. Clark
trained a burst of muted heat vision on the coat. 

With a faint hiss, steam billowed from the soaked cloth, curling
upward into the icy air and diffusing outward into streamers of
mist that faded away into nothing. "Okay," he said, "it's dry.
Let's get out of here. It's about five miles back to the
Driscoll farm, so we can talk on the way." 

Lois had turned when he spoke and now she took the coat, giving
him an odd look when she felt the warmth of the cloth. Without a
word, she put it on and followed him back through the opening in
the trees and brush that he had broken in his headlong charge to
save her life. 

"Have you got a pocket hair dryer or something?" she finally
asked. 

"No. That might be easier to explain," he said. "Nobody ever
knew this but my mom and dad. They told me about it when --
well, when they explained I'm adopted." He took her hand to
guide her through the darkness of the trees. "Be careful.
There's lots of branches that can poke you in the eyes or
something." 

"How can you see?" she whispered. 

"Good night vision," he said. "It's all part of the story." He
was silent, trying to figure out how to explain it. "I'm
probably not from Smallville," he started out. "Mom and Dad
didn't know where I came from. They found me -- late one evening
in Shuster's Field." 

"Somebody abandoned you?" She sounded horrified. 

"Mom and Dad never knew. Did you ever hear the old legends about
changelings? Babies the fairies left for a human couple to
raise? I'm almost tempted to believe them." He pushed up a stiff
branch and held it for her to pass. "It's a pretty weird story.
I'm not sure anybody would believe it without the evidence." 

"What evidence?" she asked. 

"Me," he said. 

"Well, go ahead," she said a little impatiently. 

He took a deep breath. "Right. Okay, Mom and Dad found me and
pretended I was their baby. They told everybody that Mom hadn't
known she was pregnant until she started having labor pains and
had me at home. She was a little plump back then, and I guess
people believed her. Dad's cousin was a doctor and he got them
all the paperwork for a birth certificate and everything, and
nobody ever knew. They figured that was the end of it." 

"What does this have to do with how you found me?" Lois asked. 

"I'm coming to that. They pretty much figured how they'd found
me was past and nobody ever needed to know -- not even me. Until
I was ten." Clark hesitated. "Then they had to tell me." 

"Why?" 

"I started to be able to hear things a long way off. I could
hear what people were whispering in the next room. It's no fun
to hear somebody making nasty remarks about you when they think
you can't hear. It got so I could hear things miles away --
people talking in normal voices. I thought I was going crazy for
a while until I learned to filter all that stuff out." 

"And that was how you heard me?" Lois sounded a little
skeptical. 

"Yeah. But that wasn't all. There were some other things -- I
could run faster than Dad's horses. We had a couple back then.
Some other things happened, too, and that was when they had to
tell me about how they found me. They figured I was some kind of
scientific experiment or something. But then they were killed in
that car wreck and they never knew the other things that
happened. Anyhow, tonight I was at home when I heard you scream
and ran as fast as I could to get here in time to pull you out
of the lake before you drowned." 

"Do you really expect me to believe this?" Lois said. "I wish
you'd tell me the truth. I'm really not in the mood for fairy
tales right now." 

"I'm telling you the truth," Clark said, almost offended that he
had told her part of his secret and she didn't believe him. "How
do you think I managed to dry your coat so fast -- and why
doesn't the cold weather bother me, even though my clothes are
wet? It's because the cold doesn't affect me and --" He stopped
and turned, drawing her to a stop. "Feel this?" He fanned his
heat vision lightly over her again. "That's how I dried your
clothes." 

Lois was silent for a long moment. "What was that?" she asked at
last, and this time her voice sounded more curious than
skeptical. "It looked like your eyes put out this faint red
light." 

"That was one of the things that happened after Mom and Dad were
killed," Clark said. "I think it's infra-red light. I call it
heat vision." 

"Do it again," Lois commanded. She extended a hand. 

Obediently, he let the attenuated heat vision caress her hand
and heard her draw in a breath. "Well," he asked. "Do you
believe me now?" 

"I guess I have to," Lois said. "How do you do that?" 

He shrugged, forgetting that she might not be able to see him in
the dark. "I don't know. I just want it to happen and it does."
He took her hand and began to lead her through the trees once
more. "Are you okay with this?" 

"Why shouldn't I be?" Her voice sounded, he thought, a little
surprised. 

"Well -- Dad warned me, back when they told me about how they
found me that, if anyone ever found out, the government would
come and take me away -- they'd put me in a lab and dissect me
like a frog." 

There was a long silence. Finally Lois said, "I think your Dad
was right. Didn't I tell you you're too trusting?" 

Somewhere inside him, a tight knot was unwinding. "And I told
you I'm a good judge of character." 

"Yeah, well the next time you might be wrong. You've got to
promise me that you won't tell anyone about this, Clark. You're
my best friend, and I'm telling you. Don't tell anybody else. I
don't want you to get dissected. Promise me you'll be careful?"


"Okay," he said. "I promise." 

"Good," she said. "Start thinking ahead from now on. You could
have been in a lot of trouble this evening." 

"Yes," he admitted, "But I couldn't let you die, could I?" 

"I'm glad you didn't -- but we'll have to explain how you got
out here when we tell the sheriff about the pot farm." 

"I came with you in your car," Clark said. "And followed you
when the guy held you up and dumped you in the lake." 

She was silent again, obviously thinking. "Okay, I think that'll
work," she said. "What about Mr. Irig? Isn't he going to wonder
how you got out here?" 

"I'm supposed to be looking for Molly," Clark said. "I'll
explain when I get back that I got sidetracked. Wayne doesn't
ask a lot of questions." The trees opened up ahead of them and a
short distance away he could see the highway. "Do you mind if I
pick you up? I think we can get back to that greenhouse before
the owner does if I run." 

"Really?" Lois's voice sounded a little breathless. "Okay then,
let's go!" 

********** 

As far as Clark could tell, Lois wasn't anywhere nearby. He'd
walked nearly the length of the street and hadn't heard her
heartbeat, nor had he spotted her with any of the visual
scanning that he'd been doing. 

He was tempted to go back to Wayne's and talk to Lois in the
morning, but some little instinct told him that he would do
better to find her now. 

She definitely wasn't with Ronnie Davis, he saw a moment later.
Ronnie's red Mustang convertible, complete with Ronnie behind
the wheel and a blond that looked strongly like Lana, came
cruising slowly down the street and pulled to a stop at
Smallville's one red light. Well, that eliminated one
possibility. So Lois was either upset about something, or she
was off tracking down another story with the hopes of getting it
accepted by the Smallville Press. 

In spite of the fact that her discovery of the pot-growing
operation had resulted in an arrest by Sheriff Harris, and her
story had made it onto the front page, the paper's owners hadn't
been able to hire her. She was under age, for one thing, Mr.
Blume had pointed out gently, and while they would be more than
happy to accept stories like the marijuana bust from her, they
couldn't put her on the staff until she was eighteen. He had,
however, mitigated the refusal by paying a pretty decent sum for
the story. Lois had told Clark later that, even if it wasn't
everything she wanted, it was a step in the right direction. Her
name had appeared on a front-page story, even if it was a small
town paper in the Midwest. It would look good on her resume some
day in the future, and she would be freelancing for the paper
whenever she could from now on. Clark wished her good luck, but
privately hoped that she wouldn't encounter too much more in the
way of big time crime in Smallville in the near future. 

And Lois no longer doubted the story he had told her. In fact, a
few days later, after all the excitement from the discovery of a
drug growing and distribution operation in Smallville had
subsided somewhat, she had suggested that they should take a
walk out somewhere well away from town, where there was no
danger of their being overheard and that he could give her all
the details that had necessarily been left out that night at the
lake. 

She had borrowed her mother's Volkswagen again, and they had
driven out in the direction of Porcupine Gulch, which was
actually an abandoned quarry dating back to before the Civil
War. Once there, they had gotten out of the little car and
walked while he told her the story of how his parents had seen
what they thought was a meteor in the sky and tracked it down,
only to find a tiny ship of unknown origin with a baby inside. 

"A rocket?" Lois asked, when he described the ship. 

"They didn't know what it was," he said. "Dad said some people
claiming to be from Cape Kennedy came by a few days later,
saying that Houston had tracked some space debris that had
fallen somewhere in the area. Mom and Dad were afraid they were
after me, so they didn't say anything. After a while the men
left again." 

"Who do you suppose they were?" Lois asked. 

"I don't know. They never found the ship, though. Dad hid it
under the floor of the storm cellar. It's still there. I went
back a couple of years ago to look at it, after more stuff
happened." 

"What *did* happen?" Lois asked, and he had told her how the
strange powers had appeared, one by one, and how he had learned
to cope with them. 

"I was scared I'd burn somebody by accident," he admitted. "And
when the x-ray vision started up I spent most of my time staring
at the ground. I mean, I accidentally looked into the girls'
locker room that first day. I couldn't look Rachel in the eyes
for a week afterwards." 

Lois eyed him with a sort of awe. "Most guys wouldn't think that
was a problem," she said. 

"I guess," Clark said. "My mom and dad taught me to respect
girls, though -- even back when I thought they all had cooties."


Lois laughed. He couldn't help thinking how sexy that laugh was,
and he was equally sure she had no idea of how it affected him.


"You learned how to control this 'x-ray vision' thing since,
haven't you?" Lois asked. "That's the important thing." 

"Yeah. That was back in ninth grade. It was the last power that
appeared. I just hope no more show up." 

"No kidding," Lois agreed. "Did your parents ever say why they
thought this was happening to you?" 

Clark shrugged. "The only powers they knew about were the
hearing and the speed -- and the strength. I started to get a
lot stronger than a ten-year-old kid should be. Dad told me he
and Mom figured I was some kind of scientific experiment -- that
somebody had been trying to develop some kind of super being,
and that I mustn't ever let on that I could do this stuff. He
was afraid that whoever had given me these powers might try to
take me back and make me work for the government -- or if maybe
the Russians had done it, our government would dissect me to try
to figure out how the powers worked. After the accident I was
scared whoever 'they' were would come and get me, but nobody
ever did. I was pretty careful." 

"I don't blame you a bit," Lois said. "Nobody ever found out,
did they?" 

Clark shrugged. "I don't think so -- although I wonder about
Wayne, sometimes. He doesn't talk much, and he never asks me
questions when something odd happens. I kind of wonder if he
knows something but figures the less said the better." 

They had walked partway around the quarry and stopped on the lip
of a bluff above the deep cut in the hillside. A brisk November
wind was blowing but neither of them paid attention to it. "So
I'm the only one you ever told?" Lois asked. 

"Yeah," Clark admitted. "You're the only person I ever had to
rescue from attempted murder. I couldn't let you drown. Besides,
I really didn't think you'd tell anyone about me." 

"Well, you were right about that," Lois said. "Besides, even if
I did, who would believe me? Not that I would, anyway," she
added hastily. 

"I know," he said. He glanced at his watch. "I have to get home
pretty soon. I have to help Wayne reinforce the fence. He's got
this one cow that's always getting through it. Last week she got
out and the next thing Nettie knew, Mollie was standing there in
the middle of her living room, chewing her cud. The front door's
latch hadn't caught and she'd just pushed it open and walked
in." 

"What did you *do*" 

"Well, Nettie tried to lead her out but Mollie wouldn't budge.
Then she tried to push her out, but you might as well push on a
brick wall. If a cow doesn't want to move, she isn't going to."


"Couldn't *you* get her out?" Lois wanted to know. 

"That's what I was wondering. Nettie was pretty worried about
her carpet." 

"I would be, too! What happened?" 

"Well, Wayne came in and grabbed the strap around her neck --
you know: the thing the cow bell is fastened on -- and yanked on
it, and you know, she followed him out without any trouble at
all. Wayne has a way with animals. He says it's 'cause he knows
how to get their attention. But he doesn't want Molly breaking
out again. The next time she might wind up out in the road and
get hit by a truck or something." 

"Yeah," Lois agreed. "Poor cow." 

"Wouldn't do whatever hit her any good, either," Clark said. "I
guess we'd better go." 

Lois had nodded and started to turn, and that was when it had
happened. Her foot slipped on a patch of grass and she staggered
for an instant, trying to get her balance. Clark reached out to
steady her, just as she overbalanced and fell. 

Clark grabbed for her, off balance, and the next instant,
clutching each other, they went over the edge together. Lois
screamed. 

All Clark could think of was that he couldn't let her die. Not
now. Not the best friend he'd ever had. Then he became aware of
something out of place. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked
down. 

They were hovering in the air, forty feet above the floor of the
ancient quarry. 

In utter silence they hung suspended in mid air, neither quite
believing what had happened. 

"Clark?" Lois's muffled voice brought his attention back to her.


"What?" 

"Are we floating?" 

He looked down. "Yeah. I think so." 

"*How* are we doing this?" 

He looked down again and back at her face, bare inches from his
own. She looked almost as stunned as he felt. "Um...I think it
must be me doing it." 

"You mean you can *fly*?" 

He gulped. "I guess so." 

"Then fly us out of here!" she commanded. 

His brain seemed to have gone completely numb. "Uh -- I don't
know how." 

"Well, how do your other powers work? The ones you can turn off
and on." Lois demanded. 

"Uh...I sort of *want* them to," he'd managed to stutter back. 

"Well, for Pete's sake, *want* us to fly back up there!" she
commanded him. 

Her exasperated voice had managed to startle him out of the
shock that seemed to have paralyzed every individual muscle and
brain cell, and he nodded shakily. "I'll try." 

And like that, it had worked. They began to rise slowly back
toward the bluff from which they had fallen, and, less than
fifteen seconds later, they came to a landing on the hill above
the quarry. 

Lois sat down hard, her legs apparently unable to hold her
upright. Clark sat down beside her, equally shaken. For almost a
full minute they stared at each other in shock. Finally Lois
spoke. 

"Wow," she said faintly. 

That seemed to cover it. 

********** 

After they had recovered somewhat, Lois and he had walked back
to the car. Neither of them said much. Clark had been trying to
absorb the implications of this brand new power that had
suddenly manifested itself to be put to instant, emergency use.
Lois had been silent, too, until she pulled the car to a stop by
the side of the highway that ran past the Irig farm. "I guess
I'll see you tomorrow," she said finally. 

His heart sank. "Are you scared of me now?" he asked bluntly. 

Her eyes widened. "*Scared* of you? Clark, you saved my life!
Again!" 

"So you're not scared?" 

"Of course not! Just -- just kind of stunned, I think. Do you
have any days off at all this week?" 

"I'm free most of Sunday -- after I do the chores," he said.
"Why?" 

"I was just wondering --" She broke off, looking a little
unsure. 

"You were wondering?" 

"If you could take me over to your old home and we could go down
in the storm cellar and you could let me look at your ship." 

He began to grin. "You're something else, you know that? You
just fell over a cliff!" 

"So what?" Lois said. "Nothing bad happened, thanks to you. You
have to learn not to dwell on the past, Clark. It's not worth
it. Why don't I pick you up at noon on Sunday?" 

Which was how they found themselves on the Kent farm, three days
later, clambering down the steps into the Kent family's
long-unused storm cellar. 

"Watch your step," Clark said. He held the flashlight he had
brought from the Irig farm so that she could see where to put
her feet. 

"There aren't any rats down here, are there?" Lois asked as she
lowered herself cautiously down the rungs, 

"No," Clark assured her. "There's nothing for them to eat." 

"Did you ever actually use this place?" she asked as her feet
touched the floor. 

"Sure. A couple of times," Clark said. "A twister came within a
mile or so of us when I was five. We stayed down here for an
hour, maybe -- and another time when I was eight." 

"I haven't seen any since I've been here," Lois said. "Do they
happen very often?" 

"It's been a quiet year so far," Clark said. He walked over to a
section of the floor where a dusty wooden table sat, supporting
an ancient oil lamp with a cracked glass chimney. Carefully he
moved the table to one side and bent. It took only a second to
find the fingerhold in one of the floorboards and he lifted the
section of floor upward. Lois stood back, holding her own
flashlight steady for him. "Wow!" she said softly. 

Clark leaned the wooden section up against one of the walls of
the cellar and flashed his light into the hole. Something inside
reflected back the light in rainbow colors. He looked down for
the second time on the strange, silver-skinned vessel that had
somehow brought him to Shuster's Field. 

Lois approached carefully and knelt by the edge of the hole,
looking down also at the ship. "Wow!" she whispered again. 

It didn't really look like any of the big rockets that EPRAD
fired into space, carrying weather satellites and space shuttles
out of the Earth's atmosphere. For one thing, no full-grown
human being could have squeezed into it. It had been meant for a
baby -- for him. 

"What's this symbol on the front? Lois asked. "It looks like an
'S'." 

"I don't know," Clark said. "There's another one -- sort of like
a big cloth decal that looks like it -- in the ship. And some
blankets. I guess they were for the baby -- me, I mean." 

"Can you open it?" Lois wanted to know. 

"I guess so," Clark said. He knelt beside the hole and reached
down, sliding his fingers under a narrow ridge of metal. With
deceptive ease, the top of the rounded front end of the craft
lifted easily to disclose the padded interior where he had lain.


"Wow!" Lois said again. She leaned over, flashing her light into
the cavity thus revealed. "They found you inside this? It
doesn't really look like a rocket, does it -- more like a space
ship you see in comic books or something." 

"Kind of, yeah," Clark said. 

Inside, neatly folded by Martha Kent's hand, were two thick blue
blankets of some very soft material, and resting atop them was
the large 'S' decal that matched the symbol on the ship. Shut
inside the tiny ship, they were free of dust and clean as the
night that Jonathan and Martha Kent had found this strange
craft. 

"What's that?" Lois asked. She shifted her flashlight's beam so
that something within the craft gleamed dully in the light and
then flashed more brightly. "Do you see that? What is it?" 

"I don't know," Clark said. He knelt on the ancient floorboards,
shining his light into the foremost section of the little ship.
There was something there, nearly concealed by the fabric of the
blankets, something spherical that he had not noticed before. It
had either rolled or been tucked far into the nose where it was
almost invisible to all but the most careful inspection.
Cautiously, he bent and stretched his arm out. It was almost out
of his reach, but he leaned forward until he was almost certain
that he was going to overbalance, and his hand closed around the
object. 

And he nearly dropped it. It felt like some sort of crystal,
smooth and slick to the touch but, unlike any crystal that he
had touched before, this substance was warm. Clutching his
prize, he backed up. 

"What is it?" Lois asked again. 

"I don't know," he repeated. "I'm going to take it out with me
and we can look at it out there. Have you seen enough of the
ship?" 

"I guess so," Lois said. "We'd better cover it up again, just in
case somebody decides to come down here. Kids or somebody." 

"Yeah." Clark manhandled the section of boards back down over
the ship, hiding it away again and pushed the wooden table
holding the lantern back on the boards. Finished, he picked up
the strange sphere again. 

It began to glow, a soft white light radiating from it, and he
let it go quickly, but the ball didn't drop to the ground as it
should have. It rose slowly until it was on a level with his
eyes and then remained there, floating motionless in the air --
and suddenly the featureless surface changed. 

"What's happening?" Lois breathed, staring fascinated at the
phenomenon. Even now, riveted by what was occurring in front of
him, Clark found an instant to marvel at Lois's courage. Other
girls might have fled in panic. She stood still, watching. 

The surface swirled with color, taking on a reddish hue. The
swirls of red resolved themselves into an irregular shape
glowing in an ocean of white. Clark leaned forward suddenly as a
single word reverberated softly in his head and he knew, not
knowing how he knew, that the globe had spoken to him. 

"Krypton," he whispered. 

"What?" Lois asked. 

The colors began to swirl again, and the red became mixed with
blue, green and brown and slowly faded away, leaving the other
colors behind. What they saw now on the surface of the sphere
was something far more familiar. It was a tiny and yet perfect
representation of the Earth. 

"Oh my gosh," Lois whispered. "Clark, do you see? That red thing
was a continent. It was showing you another world!" 

Almost instinctively, he extended a hand. The glowing sphere
moved slowly and gracefully to settle in his palm and the glow
began to fade. "Krypton," he repeated in a hushed voice, awed at
the implications of what had just happened. 

"What?" 

"It showed us Krypton," he said, cupping the globe in both
hands. There was nothing unusual about it now. It was merely a
ball with Earth's continents pictured on the surface. 

"How do you know?" Lois asked. There was no disbelief in her
voice, only curiosity. 

"It told me so," Clark said. He lifted his gaze from the sphere
and looked at Lois, a faint tingle running up his spine. "It
spoke to me -- in my head. That was Krypton -- the planet where
I was born." 

********** 

Hunting for Lois like this wasn't getting him anywhere, Clark
decided after another twenty minutes of futile searching. He
glanced at his watch. There had to be a better way. Smallville
wasn't that big, but looking for her on foot was tortuously slow
and inefficient. If he hadn't had the underlying feeling that
Lois needed him, and that the need was urgent, he wouldn't have
been so worried, but the sensation had been growing for some
minutes that there was more to her unusual disappearance than
met the eye. Why hadn't he insisted on speaking to her this
morning before school? Sure, when they'd met a few minutes
before the first bell, she'd turned the subject away from
herself with the usual superficial chatter that she always
adopted when she was dealing with a problem that she didn't want
anyone else to know about, but that very circumstance should
have just put him more on his guard. Instead, he did what he
usually did, which was to give her space, even though he'd been
worried about her for several days. Well, if he could manage to
find her, this time he was going to try to worm the problem out
of her. She had to know that there wasn't anything that she
couldn't safely talk to him about. 

He headed back toward the school and partway there darted into
the narrow gap between Butler's Feed Store and Harkin's Liquor.
As soon as he reached the gravel covered area behind the stores,
he ducked into a storage shed and an instant later emerged from
its rear to shoot straight up into the air faster than the human
eye could follow. The grey clouds of a typical summer storm were
beginning to gather in the west and streamers had started to
creep across the sky. The sunlight had become dimmer and if he
went high enough, he could scan the whole area with his
telescopic and x-ray vision without being spotted by anyone on
the ground. If she was anywhere around, he would find her. 

********** 

After their discovery of the strange globe, they had climbed out
of the storm cellar and walked slowly back to Lois's car.
Actually, it was her mother's car but Ellen's license to drive
had been lifted in Metropolis for driving under the influence.
Lois had flatly refused to drive her to the Department of Motor
Vehicles in the nearest city to apply for one in Kansas, so the
only driver with a valid license in their family was Lois. She
prevented her mother from starting up the car by the simple
expedient of removing the keys when she wasn't going to be
around for a while, since Ellen Lane, when in a state of
impairment, could not be relied upon to stay out of the driver's
seat, license or no. 

Once inside the car, Clark had removed the globe from beneath
his shirt and they looked at it again. 

"This is incredible," Lois had said finally. "It *told* you that
you came from this Krypton?" 

He nodded, turning the object over and over in his hands, trying
to examine it with his special vision. "I can't see any
operating mechanism inside," he said after several moments. "It
seems to be solid crystal all the way through. I can't see any
way it could possibly float in the air the way it did." 

"Well, if it's from Krypton, too, maybe they have some kind of
technology we don't understand," she said. "They must have, if
that little ship got you across millions of miles of space to
Earth. Besides," she pointed out with a pragmatism that made him
grin, "*You* floated in the air the other day, and I don't see
any wings on you. Didn't it tell you anything else?" 

He shook his head. "No. Just -- Krypton, and I somehow knew that
it was where I came from." 

"Telepathy?" Lois asked. "You say it 'spoke' to you in your
head. If that's not telepathy, I don't know what else to call
it." 

"Neither do I," Clark said. He examined it for another minute.
"Now I've got a couple of answers and a whole new slew of
questions." 

"Well -- maybe it's not ready to answer them yet," Lois
suggested. "Maybe it'll tell you more later." 

"I hope so," Clark said. "But I hope it doesn't take too long to
make up its mind." 

After that, Clark practiced his new power of flight whenever he
could do so without being seen. He flew at night, long flights
to distant places on the planet, seeing the wonders of the world
with his own eyes instead of through books, movies or
television. He practiced acrobatics in the air and precision
maneuvers of every kind until he was completely confident that
he could handle his ability to fly with the same skill that he
controlled the powers that had appeared earlier. He kept the
mystery sphere in the foot locker that he had acquired years ago
to hold his most treasured possessions and every night before he
went to bed he took it out and held it in his hands, hoping
against hope that it would speak to him again. But it gave him
no sign of life except a faint white glow whenever he picked it
up, as if to show him that it was alive and waiting for the
right moment to speak. At least that was what he hoped. He
reported the lack of progress to Lois every morning, and she
always counseled patience. "Wait. Maybe it's just waiting for
the right time." 

And their friendship had continued to grow but Lois still dated
other guys, never giving him any indication that it might be
acceptable for him to ask her. They studied together and ate
lunch together. She even told him about her mother's problem and
her hope of getting her into some kind of alcohol rehabilitation
facility when she turned eighteen and was legally an adult, when
she could take responsibility for her sister and keep her out of
the grip of Social Services. In the meantime, she took care of
Lucy, made sure she did her homework, got reasonably nutritious
meals and stayed mostly out of trouble. Clark thought that she
was considerably more of an adult than her mother but the law
was the law. With his superhuman speed and photographic memory,
he researched every law book in the Smallville library and told
her what she needed to do when the time came -- but that was
still over a year away. Clark had turned eighteen at the end of
February but her eighteenth birthday was not until October of
next year, which meant she was fighting a holding action while
trying to maintain her grades, freelance for the newspaper and
keep her small family together for Lucy's sake. Clark couldn't
see her without thinking how incredible this human dynamo of a
girl was but he ached to take the stress lines from her face and
the burden from her shoulders, especially on the rare occasions
when things became too much and she ended up crying on his
shoulder. He couldn't do as much for her as he wanted to do.
Lois, of course, wouldn't allow him to do anywhere near that
much. 

********** 

He floated above Smallville at a thousand feet, carefully
scanning every inch of the town. The Lane car was parked in its
usual spot in its designated parking place by the apartment, so
Lois hadn't left town. So where *was* she? 

As he scanned the area, his gaze passed over Tuttle Park and
snapped back. A single figure was sitting on a bench, and at
once he recognized the clothing Lois had been wearing this
morning. Her backpack was resting against one leg of the bench
and even from this far away he could pick out the tear tracks on
her cheeks. There was no one within eyesight of the bench. He
could land without any observers but Lois, if he moved fast.
Like a striking hawk, he shot downward and came in to a tight,
fast landing beside the bench. 

The only sign that he had startled her was the tiny catch in her
breath when he appeared out of thin air beside her. Quickly, she
wiped away the dampness on her cheeks but her reddened eyes and
nose told the story all too clearly. 

"Clark!" she said in a voice that almost sounded normal. "I
didn't expect to see you!" 

"I know." He sank down beside her on the bench. "I've been
looking for you ever since school let out." 

Surreptitiously, she dabbed at her eyes. "What for?" 

"Because you've been avoiding me for days and I thought
something was wrong, and I was right," he said. "Lois, what's
the matter? I'll help you if I can. You know that." 

Her shoulders slumped. "Nothing," she said. "There's nothing
that you can do this time." 

He ventured to put an arm around her shoulders, careful to keep
the touch light: the embrace of a friend. "You know you can tell
me anything," he said. "You don't know I can't help. I can
sometimes do some pretty surprising things." 

"Not this time," she repeated dully. "I've done something really
stupid, and I'm afraid I've ruined everything." 

"That's pretty -- comprehensive," he suggested. "Why don't you
tell me what's happened. Maybe I can help. You know there's
nothing I wouldn't do for you." 

"I know. That makes it worse." Tears were starting to leak from
her eyes again and this time she didn't try to hide them. "Oh,
Clark! I've been such an idiot!" she wailed. 

He put his other arm around her as well and held her while she
sobbed on his shoulder, various hair-raising possibilities
flashing through his mind. "Lois, *tell* me," he pleaded. "I'm
imagining all sorts of horrible things." 

She sat up suddenly, wiping her face with a sodden piece of
crumbling tissue. Almost without thinking, he pulled out his
handkerchief and gave it to her. "Here." 

She took it, wiped her eyes and blew her nose, seeming to regain
a little control with the gesture, but she looked up at him with
an expression of utter misery on her face and inhaled deeply.
"I'm pregnant." 

At first he wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. "What?" 

"I'm pregnant," she repeated, starting to cry anew. 

"How could --" 

"I was dating Ronnie," she said, between hiccups. "And we got
carried away. Things had been so awful with Mother, and Lucy was
giving me a lot of trouble, and I'd been so worried about that
big math test." She hiccupped again. "I'd been studying so hard,
and then I took it and passed it with an A. Ronnie took me out
to celebrate, and one thing led to another, and --" She broke
off. "It didn't mean anything, and it was just that once. I
figured it would be all right, but it isn't. He told me
yesterday that he'd pay for the abortion but I'm so scared!" 

"Oh, honey." Clark put his arms around her again and pulled her
against his shoulder. In the face of her self-recriminations and
distress, the only thing he could think of was that she was in
trouble and that he had to help her. "Lois, it's going to be
okay." 

"It won't," she whispered. "Clark, I'm so sorry. I know you're
disappointed with me. *I'm* disappointed with me. I've ruined
everything! I was so stupid!" 

"You don't owe me any explanations," he said quietly. "And I
could never be disappointed with you. The important thing is
what we do now. What do you *want* to do?" 

His calm voice seemed to help soothe her somewhat, for the
hiccups subsided a little. "I can't get you involved," she
whispered. "It was my fault. I suppose the sensible thing to do
is to have the abortion -- only it's been two months." Her hands
went protectively to her abdomen seemingly of their own accord.
"Its heart is beating. I don't think I can do it. I *can't* do
it! I'd be killing my own baby! I can't even kill a housefly,
and this is a lot more than that!" She began to sob again. "If I
tell my mother she'll just get drunk and if I tell my Dad, he'll
probably insist I go through with the abortion -- and I won't be
able to go back to Smallville High next year. Mom will throw me
out if I won't have the abortion, and I'll have to work instead
of finishing school -- Oh Clark! I've ruined my whole life, and
Lucy's life --!" 

"No you haven't," Clark said firmly, making up his mind. Now
that he was aware of it, he could hear the tiny flutter, as fast
and light as a butterfly's wings, of the baby's beating heart.
He took one arm from around her but only to take her hand. "It
makes things a little more difficult, that's all, but the two of
us can handle anything if we work at it. Will you marry me,
Lois?" 

It seemed as if she were struck speechless. "What?" she gasped.


"I know you don't love me," he said quietly, "but I love you.
Anyway, we can worry about what to do about that later. If you
marry me, then I'll be part of your family and I'll have the
right to help you handle things. Will you marry me?" 

She burst into tears. "If you love me, why didn't you ever ask
me for a date? I thought you just wanted to be friends!" 

"I didn't think you wanted me to," Clark said. 

"Of course I did!" she wailed. "Oh Clark! If I'd been dating
*you* I'd never have gotten into this mess!" 

"Well, we're going to fix it," Clark said firmly. "All you have
to do is say yes. Please say yes, Lois." 

"But you're graduating next week! If you marry me, how are you
going to go to Midwest U?" 

"Do you think I can't?" he asked. "With everything you know
about me, do you honestly think I can't handle college and a
family, too?" 

"But you shouldn't have to," Lois said. "I made the mistake. You
shouldn't have to suffer for it." 

He shifted his position on the bench, turning her to face him
and resting his hands on her shoulders. "Why do you think I'd be
suffering? If I hadn't thought you only wanted to be friends,
you wouldn't be in this situation. You said so yourself." 

"But I didn't mean --" 

"The only way I'd be unhappy," he said firmly, "would be if I
knew you were struggling and I wasn't there to help you. We can
make it work, Lois. And if you only want to be married to me
long enough to finish school and -- well, get your life
straightened out, you only have to tell me so." 

"How could you think I'd do that?" she said indignantly. "Has
anybody ever told you you're an idiot, Clark Kent?" 

He had to work to keep from smiling. That almost sounded like
the Lois he knew. "Sure. You did." 

"Well, you are. I'm tempted to say yes, just so I can teach you
to be a little more cynical -- but it won't work. Nobody's going
to give us a marriage license. I'm underage. I can't get married
without permission and I know Mother and Daddy won't give it." 

"We're not going to ask them," Clark said. "Remember how I read
every book about law in the library? I remember everything I
read. I happen to know that there are a couple of states where
they'll let you marry me without your parents' permission. All
you have to do is show a judge proof that you're pregnant." 

"Really?" 

"Yep. We can get the pregnancy test done this week and then
we'll get married as soon as we can, right after graduation.
You'll be an emancipated minor after that and no one can tell
you what to do." He shifted his grip from her shoulders to her
hands. "Please, Lois. Marry me." He hesitated. "You don't even
have to worry about -- afterwards, if you don't want to. I won't
ask for anything else. I just want to be able to help you." 

She looked doubtfully into his face. "Do you know the statistics
for teen marriages?" she asked unexpectedly. "More of them fail
than succeed." 

"It figures you'd know that," he said with a wry grin.
"Statistics don't mean anything for individual cases. And I'll
bet you know that, too." 

She nodded. "Yeah." She hesitated. "Suppose I go along with
this. How am I going to go to school? If I show up pregnant,
won't Social Services get involved? And if they find out about
Mom and Lucy -- I guess," she added, "I could wait until after
the baby's born." 

"You don't have to," Clark said. "You can handle night school,
can't you?" He hadn't released her hands. "We'll work it all
out; I promise. Together the two of us can do anything." 

"You seem awfully sure," she said, but he could see her
resistance was weakening. 

"Of course I'm sure," he said, squeezing her hands. "I'm talking
to the woman who taught me to fly." 

********** 

Wayne Irig watched meditatively as Clark scaled the ladder with
the boxful of shingles. The roof of the old Kent farmhouse was
in dire need of repair after the eight years that it had stood
empty. "You're plannin' on fixin' up the place all of a sudden?"
he asked. "Ain't you goin' to college this fall?" 

"Sure," Clark said, "but it's only about sixty miles from here.
I'm going to schedule my classes so I only have to drive it
about three times a week. I'll be working part time at Maisie's
and weekends at the theater." 

"And live at the farmhouse," Wayne said. 

"That's right." 

The old farmer chewed slowly and thoughtfully on a straw. "Well,
you always knew your own mind," he remarked. "You're so much
like your mom and pop that I think I'm talkin' to Jonathan
sometimes. If'n you need any help around here you just ask me --
and if you got any other problems that I can help you with, you
do the same. You understand me, son?" 

It was the longest speech he'd ever heard Wayne Irig make in one
conversation. Clark set the shingles on the roof and slid down
the ladder again. 

"I will." He smiled at his father's friend. "I'm getting
married," he said quietly. "I can't tell you all the details but
--" 

Irig held up a hand. "Then don't," he said. "If it's who I think
it is, you're marryin' a stick o' dynamite -- but she's the gal
I'd o' picked for you if you'd asked me." 

"Lois Lane," Clark said. 

"Figured," Irig said. "Congratulations. Just remember; marriage
is for better or worse. If she's right for you, even the
worse'll be worth it. Just like it's been for me an' my Nettie."


"Thanks," Clark said. "I'll remember that. I won't be farming
the property, so if you want to rent the land for your
livestock, you're welcome to." 

"Might just do that," Wayne said. He gave a one sided smile. "If
you need any help with anything, just ask. You never know what's
gonna happen. I gotta get back and milk the cows." 

"Thanks," Clark said again. "I'll be home in time to make sure
all the animals are taken care of tonight." 

Irig nodded. "See you later, son." He climbed back into his
pickup. Clark turned to ascend the ladder again. 

Once Wayne had gone, the repairs to the old farmhouse went
quickly. Clark finished within an hour and carefully stored his
tools. He checked his watch. Lois would be expecting him in a
few minutes. Quickly, he ducked inside the house to shower and
give his chin a quick touch up with his heat vision. He had done
the internal repairs three nights before and the power and water
had come on this morning. The telephone line should be connected
by tomorrow. 

In the first few days following Clark's proposal, Lois had
dithered over the whole idea. Twice she had nearly turned him
down, but each time he had pointed out calmly that, not only was
her own future at stake over whatever choice she made, but so
was Lucy's and equally important, her baby's. The last time they
had been by the quarry again, where he had flown on that first
occasion. This time they left the small car in Tuttle Park and
flown to the area. 

Graduation was scheduled for the next day and Clark would give
the address as the senior class's top graduating male student.
Wayne and Nettie Irig would be seated with Lois and her sister
to cheer him on as he accepted his diploma. He had finished
first in his class, which hadn't really been a surprise, been
accepted by Midwest U and had won five different modest
scholarships in the last couple of months. Combined, they should
be enough to pay his way through school. 

Clark brought them down by the spot from which they had slipped,
that day in November, when he had discovered that he could fly,
and set Lois on her feet. Today, the sun was warm and in the
fields behind them wildflowers grew in wide patches of color. He
turned her so she could look out over the quarry, one hand
holding hers warmly. "I guess this is a historic spot," he said.
"This is where you taught me that my differences weren't
something to make me afraid. You opened up the world to me." He
put an arm around her waist and began to float upward and out
over the quarry. 

"I've been everywhere since that day," he continued. "I've flown
around the Earth, to the north and south poles. I've crossed
every ocean and seen every continent. I've seen wonders that
most of us only read about or watch on television -- and I want
to share all those things with you. To me, you're what makes
them worthwhile." They drifted in the air above the quarry and
with his free arm he waved at the wide land all around them. "I
lost my family when I was ten," he continued. "Your family has
been pretty badly broken, too -- but together you and I -- and
our baby, if you marry me -- can be a lot more than either of us
alone. I want to give you my new world and my future. Will you
be my wife? -- not only for your sake, but the baby's, Lucy's
and mine." 

She looked around, and he could see tears in her eyes. "You want
me that much?" she asked. "Enough that you'll take someone
else's baby and be its father?" 

"This baby is part of you," Clark said firmly. "And I want it to
be my baby too. I can hear its heart beating right now. Who
knows if I can ever have children someday? I look human but I'm
from another planet. Yes, I want this baby. Its biological
father wanted to kill it. I want it to live and grow up and for
you to let me be its dad." Slowly, he lowered them back to the
ground and dropped to one knee in front of her. "I asked you in
the park, and now I'm asking again, Lois. Will you marry me?" 

Tears were running down her face and she was nodding. "How can I
say no after that? Yes. Yes, I'll marry you." 

"Good," Clark said. He took her hand and kissed it. "I'll get
you a ring," he promised. "Just as soon as I can." 

"Getting me a ring is a waste of money," Lois said. "We'll do
without it." 

Clark didn't answer. He had an idea but he would have to wait
until after graduation in order to accomplish it, so he
preferred to keep it to himself. 

********** 

He and Lois had discussed the idea of using the Kent farmhouse
for the first year or two of Clark's university schooling, and
after that they would see what they could work out -- but for
the immediate future it seemed like the best plan. 

"Just as long as you don't expect me to play the farmer's wife,"
Lois had specified. 

"Not a chance," he'd teased her. "I don't want to burn the house
down. The kitchen's *my* territory." 

"I just wanted to be clear about that," Lois said. They had been
sitting on the sofa in the Lane apartment, trying to put
together some kind of plan for the immediate future. Ellen Lane
had been asleep in her bedroom and Lois had sent Lucy in to
brush her teeth and get ready for bed. 

"We're definitely clear about it," Clark assured her. "And it'll
be a lot harder for your mom to get down to Harkin's Liquor.
It's a ten-mile walk to town. Then, once things settle down a
little, we'll start working on getting your mom into that rehab
facility in Wichita." 

Lois had been leaning up against his chest with his arm around
her and she glanced up anxiously. "You're still sure you want to
do this?" she'd asked. "I'll understand if you change your
mind." 

He shook his head decisively. "I'm sure," he said. "Day after
tomorrow, you and I have a trip to make -- by air. I've already
made the arrangements. Judge Grant has promised to issue the
license and perform the ceremony as soon as he's seen the lab
report. Then we'll come back and I'll help move your things into
the farmhouse." 

"At least," Lois said, darkly, "Lucy won't be able to get into
quite as much trouble out there." 

Clark shook his head. "If you ask me, it doesn't matter where a
kid her age is -- they can figure out how to get into trouble no
matter what," he'd said, out of the fullness of babysitting
experience. "But at least it'll be a different sort of trouble."


"Maybe it'll be easier to handle," Lois said. 

Lucy's head popped out of the bedroom that she and Lois shared.
"What are you talking about?" she demanded. 

"None of your business," Lois said firmly. "If you want to be up
in time to go camping at the lake with the rest of your Scout
troop tomorrow, you'd better get to bed." 

"Well, you'd better tell your *boyfriend* to go home," Lucy
said, pouting. She hadn't yet forgiven Clark for showing more
interest in her older sister than in her. 

"Clark's going home in a little while," Lois said. "And he's not
my boyfriend. He's my --" She broke off at a warning squeeze
from Clark's hand. 

"What?" Lucy asked. 

"Best friend," Lois said. "Go to bed." 

"Tessa gets to stay up until ten in the summer," Lucy said, a
faint whine detectable in her voice. "She's twelve, and so am I.
Why can't I stay up too?" 

"Because this isn't Tessa's house," Lois said. "Mother and Daddy
never let me stay up until ten until after I was thirteen." 

"Mom's a drunk!" Lucy stated with contempt. "And Daddy's not
here!" 

Lois sprang to her feet. "Lucille Marie Lane!" she said, "I
don't want to hear you call Mother that again! You head for bed
this minute or you *won't* be going to see the Karate Kid when
it shows at the theater next week. Now *move*!" 

Reluctantly, Lucy pulled her head back into her bedroom. Clark
got to his feet with equal reluctance. "I'd better go. I told
Wayne I'd make sure all the animals were taken care of for the
night." 

"All right," Lois said. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow." 

"You will," Clark said. They walked to the door together and
paused out of view of the bedroom door. Lois put her hands on
his shoulders. "You know," she said softly, "We're going to be
married in a couple of days. You could kiss me good night." 

Clark put his arms gently around her. "I didn't want to make you
uncomfortable," he said, "but I've wanted to kiss you from the
day we met." 

"I wish you'd told me," Lois said. "Because I wanted you to." 

After that, there was no sound in the short hallway for some
time. At last, Clark raised his head. "I'm looking forward to
our trip," he said. 

"So am I," Lois said. "I just wish --" 

He put his forefinger across her lips. "No apologies," he said
firmly. "If I'd asked you for a date, things would have been
different." He turned his head and looked over the top of his
glasses. "Lucy's got her ear to the door," he added. 

"Little sneak," Lois said. "Good night, Clark." 

"Good night," he said. 

********** 
Two days later, Clark arrived at the Lane apartment at one in
the afternoon. Lucy had been safely on her weekend camping trip
since the day before and would not be home until seven in the
evening, and Ellen Lane had gone to her afternoon bridge club
meeting. Hopefully, being that it was early in the day, no
drinks would be served except coffee or tea, and, in any case,
it would give the two of them time to complete their objective.


Following their plan carefully, they drove out to Porcupine
Gulch once more and parked the car in the place provided for
visitors who wished to hike in the area. If anyone saw it, its
presence would be completely unremarkable to any observer and,
more importantly, it would be out of the reach of Ellen Lane.
That last was absolutely necessary. The week before, Lois had
discovered by accident that her mother had had a set of
replacement keys made without her knowledge. She had removed the
keys but it was evident that Ellen was not to be trusted to
refrain from driving the car, with or without a license. Lois
had made certain that the car was not available to her mother,
even should she somehow manage to acquire another set of keys. 

Lois cut the engine and they stepped out of the car. 

"Anyone around?" she asked. 

Clark lowered his glasses and glanced in all directions. "Nope,"
he said. 

"Then," Lois said, and he noticed the faint quiver to her voice,
"I guess we can go." 

"In just a minute," Clark said. He took her hand and an instant
later had slid a diamond ring onto the third finger. Lois gasped
faintly. 

"Clark! I told you an engagement ring was a waste of money!" 

"This ring belonged to my mother," he said. "I wasn't able to
get it until I graduated from school. You deserve an engagement
ring as much as any other woman who's getting married." 

Lois examined the ring for a moment and then looked up at him.
"Has anyone ever told you you're a romantic doofus, Clark?" 

He couldn't help grinning. "Just you," he said. "*Now* we're
ready to go see the judge. Got your test results safe?" 

She patted the small purse that she clutched in her free hand.
"Right here." 

He scooped her up neatly in his arms. "All right then, let's
go." 

********** 

Judge Marshall Grant was a tall, stern man with white hair and a
white mustache and beard. When Lois had seen him for the first
time, she had whispered to Clark that he reminded her of the
actor who appeared in all those Southern Fried Chicken ads on
television, except that he wasn't fat. The judge examined the
medical report that Lois handed him and cleared his throat.
"You're certain that this is what you want to do, young lady?"
he asked very solemnly. "There are other alternatives, you
know." 

"I'm sure," Lois replied staunchly. "I won't make my baby pay
for my actions." 

The judge turned to Clark. "And you're willing to take on this
responsibility, young man?" 

"Yes sir," Clark answered. 

"I trust you know the obstacles ahead of you," the judge said.
"The two of you are taking on a great deal of responsibility." 

"We know," Clark said. Lois nodded. 

"And you're both completely willing to do this?" The judge
watched them expressionlessly. Clark looked at Lois and she met
his eyes with a little smile. Together, they turned to look back
at the judge. 

"Yes," they said, together. 

For the first time, Judge Grant allowed a smile to soften his
expression. "Well, at least you seem to realize what you're
getting into," he said. He took off his glasses and polished
them with his handkerchief, examined them carefully against the
light of a tall lamp and replaced them with careful precision.
"My great grandparents left Boston, Massachusetts to move out
west," he said. "He was eighteen and his bride was seventeen.
They were married for seventy-three years, through twelve
children and every sort of hardship that people could face in
those days. Both families opposed the move, but they went in
spite of it all." Clark found he was holding his breath while
the older man spoke. "I see a lot of determination in both of
you. If you bring it into your marriage, then you have as good a
chance as they did." He turned to the big desk that sat against
one wall and opened a drawer to remove a paper. "I've looked
over your paperwork, and this medical report gives me the right
to sign the license." He picked up an old-fashioned fountain pen
and affixed his signature to the document. "Now, if you'll come
with me --" He went to the door and opened it for them. "My wife
and our housekeeper, Mrs. Napier, will be the witnesses." 

********** 

Forty-five minutes later, they landed back at Porcupine Gulch
and reclaimed their car. Clark opened the driver's door
ceremoniously for Lois, who slid into the driver's seat. He shut
the door and went around to get in next to her. She stared at
the bands on her ring finger and then looked almost shyly at
Clark. "I'm Mrs. Clark Kent," she said, wonderingly. "Lois Kent.
What's everyone going to say? They'll think you're the baby's
father, and that you and I --" 

"I *am* the baby's father," Clark said firmly. "If anyone doubts
it, they can ask me. I'm married to my best friend and the most
beautiful woman any man could wish for." He reached out to take
her hand and held it, running a thumb across the engagement ring
and the gold band next to it. "And I'm going to stand next to
you and applaud the loudest of anyone when you bring in that
first Pulitzer, Lois Lane Kent." 

She blinked back tears. "Will I?" 

"You bet you will," Clark said. "We're just beginning to show
the world what we can do together." 

She sniffed slightly. "I'm sorry. I don't usually cry this much.
I don't know what's the matter with me." 

He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. "Well, I'm no
expert but I've done some reading about pregnancy and
childbirth. From what I read, I think all the extra hormones
your body is producing right now are probably making you more
emotional than you usually are." 

"What were you doing, reading about that?" Lois asked. "No, what
am I thinking of. You read the whole Smallville law library for
me, too." 

Clark shrugged. "What can I say? Guilty as charged. Come on.
Let's get back to town and we'll get busy moving things to the
farmhouse. Does your mom know where the three of you are going?"


"I told her that the landlord was terminating our lease, and
that I've found another place. She's not happy about all the
work of moving but I don't think she'll make much of a fuss.
She'll be too relieved that someone else did the work. What I'm
worried about is what's going to happen when she wants a drink,"
Lois said, with a trace of bitterness. 

"I don't know that there's anything we can do, at least for
now," Clark said. "Your mom's a grown woman. We don't have the
authority to tell her she can't drink." 

"I know. But that doesn't mean we have to buy it for her!" 

"No; of course not. On the other hand, if she wants to go to
town, we can't keep her a prisoner," Clark pointed out
practically. "We're going to have to focus on getting her to see
that there's a problem -- and not letting Lucy come to harm.
When we get back, I'm going to borrow Wayne's big pickup and
start moving your stuff. I cleaned the whole farmhouse yesterday
from top to bottom, including all the furniture. Lucy's got one
room in the attic for herself. It's warm and comfortable, and as
big as the master bedroom, so she'll have a lot more room than
she's got now. The other one is a storeroom and we'll put
anything we can't find a place for in there unless you have a
better idea. Your Mom's got my old room, which is bigger than
the one she has at the apartment. We --" He hesitated and could
feel his face growing warm. "I fixed up Mom and Dad's room for
us. My stuff is already in there, and I'll put yours with it.
You can show me how you want it arranged after we get everything
over there -- unless you want me to sleep on the couch or
something." 

"Don't be an idiot," Lois said, in her usual direct way. "I'm
married to you and we'll share the room. It's not as if I'm a
vir -- well, you know -- anymore." 

"That's not important now," Clark said quietly. "This is *my*
baby, and if Ronnie tries to say otherwise, I'll take care of
it. But I'm betting he'll be too relieved to be off the hook." 

She looked at him silently for a long minute. "It's not
important," she repeated. "It's your baby. You know what people
will think, don't you?" 

"I can't say that I care," Clark said, honestly. "I'm married to
the woman of my dreams. Why should it matter what other people
think?" 

"I guess it doesn't," she said slowly, looking at him oddly.
"The woman of your dreams?" 

He met her gaze with complete honesty. "You've been that since
the first time I saw you." 

"Okay." She seemed to shake herself slightly. "I only wish I'd
known. Well, let's go ahead and take the bull by the horns.
Don't forget, we have to pick up Lucy at seven." 

"I haven't," Clark said. "You can do that while I'm making
dinner for us. I'm the cook, remember. You've promised
faithfully that you won't try to help. I'm counting on you to
keep your promise." 

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "Smart-ass." The banter
seemed to have overcome her slight attack of nerves. She started
the engine, backed skillfully out of the parking place and
turned the nose of the little blue car toward Smallville. 

********** 

By the time Ellen Lane returned to the apartment, Clark had the
last load of belongings from the apartment packed efficiently
into the pickup. Ellen stood on the sidewalk, swaying slightly
and staring as he hoisted the last item into the bed of the
truck and padded it carefully against damage. "What's going on?"
she demanded of her daughter, who emerged from the door of the
building at this fortuitous moment. 

"Today's our last day," Lois said. "Clark's helping us move
things to the new place." 

Ellen looked slightly dumbfounded. "I didn't know that was
today." 

Clark didn't say anything. Ellen must have stopped at Roscoe's
Bar on the way back from her bridge club meeting, he thought. He
could smell the whiskey on her breath. At least he hoped that
was where she'd gotten the liquor. If she'd gotten it at the
bridge club meeting, they had more problems than he'd realized.


"I told you yesterday," Lois said, sounding tired. "Anyway, get
in the car and we'll follow Clark." 

"What about Lucy?" Ellen asked, looking around as if she
expected her younger daughter to appear out of thin air. 

"She'll be back from her camping trip at seven," Lois said. "I'm
supposed to pick her up at the elementary school." 

"Oh," Ellen said. She opened the passenger door. "Where are we
going?" 

Lois turned on the engine and looked over her shoulder before
pulling out into the street. "We're going to follow Clark." 

Clark smiled to himself. Lois, as he had expected, was dodging
her mother's questions. Once they got to the farmhouse would be
time enough to explain. 

"What are you wearing on your hand?" Ellen clearly hadn't had
enough to drink not to notice the obvious. 

"A wedding set," Lois replied shortly. 

"Why are you wearing a wedding set?" Ellen demanded. "I've never
seen that before." 

"Mother," Lois's voice sounded stiff to him and he recognized
the note of irritation combined with defensiveness in her voice,
"I'm trying to pay attention to traffic. I'll explain everything
when we stop." 

"This is the road out of town. Just where are we going?" 

"The place I got for us is a house outside of town. It's bigger
than the apartment and less expensive." 

"It's not some dump, is it?" 

"No," Lois said. "It's nicer than the apartment." 

"How did you find this place?" 

"Well, you weren't paying any attention to it, so I figured I'd
better or we'd be camping out in Tuttle Park," Lois said. 

"Lois Lane, I won't be spoken to that way!" 

Lois didn't answer. Clark concentrated on his driving. It would
be best to get Lois and Ellen out of the car before Lois
murdered her mother. 

"What kind of place is this?" Ellen asked. 

"It used to be a farmhouse," Lois said. 

"A farmhouse? Lois Lane, I am not living at a farmhouse!" 

"It's not a farm anymore," Lois said shortly. "It's just a
house. At least look at it before you make up your mind. Then if
you want to rent in town, you can do what you want." Clark
cringed slightly but surprisingly Ellen didn't answer.

The farm was ten miles from the edge of the actual town, and
Lois managed to dodge her mother's questions for the duration of
the trip. Clark turned into the gravel road between the white
fence posts and led the way into the dirt area in front of his
parents' farm. His farm. It now belonged to him. He'd dealt with
all the paperwork the week before. It was the seventh of July
and he had been immersed in a great deal of legal details for
the past three weeks, getting the place ready for Lois and her
family. 


Lois's car pulled up behind the truck and she cut the engine.
Ellen opened the door and got out, looking around at the
farmhouse and the other buildings, and Clark found himself
thankful that he had sanded and painted the entire house and
barn so that everything looked neat and tidy. Perhaps a good
first impression would help reconcile Lois's mother to her new
dwelling. 

Lois also got out. "It looks nice," she told Clark. 

"Thanks." Clark handed her the house key. "Why don't you and
Mrs. Lane go on inside, while I get the rest of your things
unloaded." 

"All right." Lois turned to her mother. "What do you think?" 

Ellen wrinkled her nose. "Well, it isn't as bad as I thought it
would be." 

"Come on inside," Lois said. 

Ellen trailed Lois up the steps onto the front porch, still
looking around with an air of distaste. Clark opened the back of
the truck and began hoisting down the boxes. 

A few minutes later, Clark entered the house. Ellen was
wandering around the first floor, examining the premises.
Finally, she returned to the living room and sank onto the newly
cleaned and renovated sofa. 

"Well, Mother?" Lois asked. "What do you think of it?" 

"It will do, I suppose," Ellen said, a little grudgingly. "It's
better than I expected." She turned to look at Lois's hand.
"Now, young lady, I want to know where that wedding set came
from." 

"It's mine," Lois said, a little defiantly. "I'm married." 

"Married! You can't marry! You're underage!" 

"I'll explain," Lois said. She looked at Clark and he moved to
her side and took her hand. 

"Lois is married to me, Mrs. Lane," Clark said. 

Ellen stared coldly at him. "She can't be." 

"I am," Lois said. She opened her little handbag and removed the
marriage certificate. "Look." 

Ellen took the paper, an expression of disbelief on her face.
After examining it, she looked up. "I demand an explanation." 

********** 

"You're *pregnant*?" Ellen stared at Lois and then turned to
glare at Clark. "You got my daughter *pregnant*?" 

"Clark didn't," Lois said. "It was someone else. I already told
you that. Clark found out and asked me to marry him." 

"You don't expect me to believe a cock and bull story like
that?" Ellen said coldly. "Do you take me for a fool?" 

"It's the truth," Lois said. 

"Why didn't you tell me? Your father would have arranged an
abortion!" 

"That was *exactly* why I didn't tell you!" Lois shot back. "The
baby's father offered to pay for one, too. I couldn't do it!" 

"That's not important," Ellen said. "You're a child. You have no
idea what's best for you. Now you've ruined your life, and what
your father is going to say I don't know. God, I need a drink!"


"I can get you a cup of coffee," Clark offered. "I'm afraid
there isn't anything else in the house." 

"Well, you just head right back to town and get me a bottle,"
Ellen commanded. 

Lois glanced at Clark and shrugged. "I'm only eighteen," Clark
said. "I'm not allowed to buy liquor." 

********** 

In spite of the unpromising beginning, however, Lois persuaded
her mother to temporarily forego the drink long enough to
examine her bedroom upstairs and to direct Clark where to put
her boxes of possessions. It was impossible to prevent her from
haranguing Lois about her actions but when Clark had offered to
take her place, Lois had shaken her head. Clark had withdrawn
while Lois undertook the task of soothing her parent's ruffled
feathers. Reconciling her to the situation was probably beyond
their ability but eventually she had run down, at least
temporarily. By the time evening rolled around, the remainder of
the load had been moved into the house, arranged in various
places or stored in the attic and Clark had returned Wayne
Irig's truck to its owner. At six-thirty, Lois set out in the
Lane car to pick up her sister and Clark began to prepare dinner
in the farmhouse kitchen that he remembered from his days as a
child. He was carefully measuring rice, before pouring it into
the boiling, salted water, when Ellen Lane stepped into the
kitchen. 

He smiled at her briefly while turning the temperature on the
rice to medium, and covering it. Ellen stood in the doorway,
watching him without expression. Clark stirred his homemade
chili carefully to prevent the mixture from scorching, covered
it and lowered the heat. He glanced at Ellen Lane. "Is there
something you needed, Mrs. Lane?" he asked. 

Ellen shook her head slowly. She looked around the room, seeming
to take in every detail. Clark saw that the water was boiling
for his vegetables and turned to dump the fresh broccoli that he
had brought earlier from Smallville Market, one of the town's
several grocery stores, into the steamer. He covered the
vegetables, turned the heat to low and set the timer. "Dinner
will be ready in about twenty minutes -- just about the time
Lois gets back with Lucy," he added. 

"I'll give you one point," Ellen Lane said. "You can cook." 

"Thank you," Clark said. "My mother taught me the basics when I
was a child. Nettie Irig taught me a lot in the last couple of
years, too." 

"Why did you marry my daughter?" Ellen Lane asked abruptly. "If
you were going to pay for an abortion, why ask her to marry
you?" 

"I never offered to pay for an abortion," Clark said. 

"She said you did." 

"Not exactly. In any case, it doesn't matter. I love Lois. I
wasn't going to let her go through this alone, no matter what I
had to do." 

"You're too young to know anything about love," Ellen said
shortly. 

Clark didn't answer. Ellen eyed him narrowly for a moment. "What
are your plans, now that you've ruined my daughter's life?" she
asked finally. 

Clark ignored the rider. "I'm going to attend Midwest U this
fall, majoring in journalism. Lois and I