Author's Note: I wrote this story because I believe that people who are meant to be together will find each other, no matter what. I mean, look at Lois and Clark. Here we have a couple who started out life separated by millions of miles of space and yet ... they found one another! Talk about your needles and haystacks! Anyway, that got me thinking. What if, instead of applying for a job at the "Daily Planet," Clark had gotten a job somewhere else? What if, he was still looking for a way to, as he put it in the Pilot, "... use what [he'd] been given to do some good?" What if, Lois hadn't yet met a "superguy," what if, she were still having only "interviews" and not "dates?" What if, we could turn the whole thing upside down for a while, and shake it (just a little), and see what happens? Given the personalities of our main characters, I thought it would be fun to see what might happen if they'd met say, on a more even playing field -- if Lois hadn't been "top banana" and Clark a mere "hack from Nowheresville." If these thoughts intrigue you as much as they did me, then come with me to "those thrilling days of yesteryear ..." Uh, sorry about that, wrong show. :-) Anyway, I hope this little flight of fancy will entertain you. I will be using a lot of references and phrases from seasons one & two, but the Lois and Clark that you'll be reading about will be the ones I came to know and love in the first season. I'll also make references to some of the events that took place in the beginning of first season. One big change in continuity that I allowed myself was that Jonathan and Martha saw and retrieved the globe from Clark's space ship before Jonathan buried the little craft. (It never made sense to me that they wouldn't have seen it.) Many of the people, restaurants, etc., that are mentioned in this story are fictional, as is the "Kansas City Dispatch" and the U.S. Press Association Convention. However, I did get some wonderfully helpful brochures, maps, etc., from the Travel & Tourism folks of both Kansas and Missouri (since Kansas City has a foot in both states), to provide me with background material. I'd also like to thank Jeff Brogden, the list's Kansas expert, for his help: answering *all* my questions about the area, pointing me towards some great websites and agreeing to read over the results for me. Thank you, Jeff. :-) This story is based on the ABC-TV show, "Lois & Clark, the New Adventures of Superman." All recognizable characters are the property of their respective owners. *Asterisks* around a word denote emphasis. around words or sentences highlight Lois' little inner warning voice. Asterisks between sections denote a change of scene, or passage of time. I've used one (*), two (* *), or three (* * *) between sections as a way to help the reader distinguish between short and long breaks in the action. MEET ME IN KANSAS CITY by Chris Mulder (mulders@mindspring.com) CHAPTER ONE Geez! What a day! First it was car trouble, then her source had decided he hadn't exactly seen what he thought he'd seen, then Perry had refused to run her story (even though she was sure she could get corroboration by press time), the photos she'd been counting on for another story had mostly turned out blurry, and on, and on, and on. Why am I a reporter anyway? I must be out of my mind! Nothing but aggravation ... Jimmy Olsen, full-time photographer and apprentice reporter for the "Daily Planet," watched Lois Lane from the relative safety of his own cubicle. The blurry photos hadn't been his fault, thank heavens (he'd been on another assignment at the time), but he'd heard all about them anyway. Lois was a great reporter, no doubt about it. In fact, she was probably the best in the city (she had enough awards), but she also had her little "ways," as Perry put it ... and stress certainly brought them out. She was sitting at her desk now, angrily picking up papers and slapping them back onto her desk, crossing things out (and breaking pencils and gouging paper and getting madder), gesturing with her hands and muttering to herself. She'd talk herself into a better mood after a while. Lois rarely held a grudge and she wasn't mean, she just liked for things to go her way. Little setbacks were okay; medium-sized setbacks meant thunderclouds on the horizon, local conditions clear; large-sized setbacks meant that an all-out, kick-ass, frog-strangling thunderstorm was fixin' to bust loose! Jimmy had become very good at reading these signs. Consequently, a sort of big-sister/younger-brother relationship had developed between them. Lois let him tag along with her occasionally, which he really appreciated since she mostly worked alone. She'd been encouraging him to write and had even (in a weak moment) critiqued his work for him. He didn't have a byline of his own yet, but he was hoping to some day. That was for the future. Right now he just wanted to get through the rest of this day unscathed, if possible. He glanced at his watch again. Four-thirty, almost there. Wonder if they need my help in the darkroom? * * * The paper had been put to bed, several "Planet" staffers were getting their things together in preparation for heading home, and the night staff was coming in. Perry White, Chief Editor, came out of his office and looked around for his star reporter. "Damn!" "What's up, Chief?" "Oh, Lois, there you are! I thought I'd missed you." "I was in the microfilm room, checking on something. Did you need me?" "Yeah, I've been trying to get a chance to talk to you about this all afternoon, but, well ... you know how it is." "Mm, it's been one of those days," she said ruefully. "Well, what I want to talk to you about is; the U.S. Press Association's Annual Meeting is coming up next month, and it's your turn to go." Lois groaned inwardly. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy herself at these functions, because she did, but she would have liked it a lot better if there were a page one story in it for her. She would've hated to have missed out on a 48 pt. headline just because she was at a party. "'The Planet' is sending five people this year, including me -- I'm even going to spend my own money to take Alice along this time. We're going to stop off and see the boys in Des Moines on the way home. I'm saving one of the remaining four slots for you, Lois." "That would be great, Perry, but I'm really swamped right now ..." "I can't believe what I'm hearing! Lois, think about this. You didn't go last year because you were working undercover on that real estate/banking scandal. I understood you needed to finish that story -- which was a great one, by the way." Lois smiled at the compliment. "Now, you're making excuses not to go again. Lois, you need some time away from the office. I'm getting concerned about you, honey. I'm as much of a workaholic as the next guy, but there has to be a limit. Now, your editor is in a give-order mode, and I'm ordering you to go with me, and three of your fellow workers, to Kansas City next month for three days of fun and relaxation (with a few meetings, discussion groups and boring dinner speeches thrown in so that it looks like work)." He paused, peered at her over the rim of his glasses and grinned. "Even Elvis took vacations." Lois had to laugh. Perry could be so funny when he put his mind to it. But his words had made her think. She *was* spending an inordinate amount of time working -- just as her sister, Lucy, had pointed out to her. She used to go to movies or dinner with friends, but she suddenly realized that many of her friends had stopped calling. Not that she could blame them. How many times does one have to hear, "Sorry, can't tonight, have to work," before one decides to write that person off as a bad risk? "You're right, Perry, I can't let this place be my whole life. Maybe some of my friends from Journalism School will be there." Then her face clouded over. "I hope that creep, Claude, isn't there." "He probably won't be. I heard the 'Times' shipped him to their Paris bureau where his, uh, proclivities would be less likely to cause problems." The sardonic look on Perry's face made Lois chuckle again. "You get on outta here. I'll see you tomorrow." "Okay, Perry. See you tomorrow." Perry went back to his office and sat at his desk. He watched her get her things together and head for the elevator. Suddenly, she stopped, turned around, picked up some file folders which were on her desk and put them in her huge pocketbook/brief case. Perry just shook his head and sighed. "What am I going to do with her?" * * * The opening reception was in full swing. Lois was beginning to relax and enjoy herself. The dinner buffet looked pretty good, the music being played was varied and pleasant to listen to, and she'd seen several people she knew. Perry had been right; it was good to get away once in a while and catch up on what other people were doing -- especially when one could learn that one's own job was more interesting than anyone else's. Not that her friends or former classmates didn't have interesting jobs, it's just that she was very proud of what she'd been able to accomplish at the "Daily Planet." She knew that in the Old Boys' Club, which journalism still was, she was something of an exception; a young, attractive woman who also was at the top of her field. And she'd gotten there by hard work alone, by always getting there first, by giving up a lot of free time to pursue stories, by being tough, and forthright and tenacious. She'd risked her life time and again for a headline, but it had all been worth it. She was respected by her peers and she was the star reporter for the "greatest newspaper in the world." Things just didn't get any better than this. She'd never been to Kansas City before, but had been impressed with the aerial view she'd gotten as the airplane had circled over it prior to landing that afternoon. Spring was more in evidence here than it had been in Metropolis, sunlight sparkled on the rivers and the sprawling city with its varied skyline had intrigued her in spite of herself. The hotel/convention center was impressive and the suite she was sharing with Diane, one of the City Desk reporters, was very comfortable indeed. "Hey there, Lois! Now, aren't you glad I made you come?" Lois looked around at the sound of that familiar voice. "Hi, Perry. And, yes," she added with a smile, "I am enjoying myself." She looked past him. "What have you done with Alice?" "She's in the powder room. Listen, there's someone I want you to meet. A real nice young fellow, works for the 'Kansas City Dispatch.' He's already an assistant editor, very bright, very -- " "Uh, Perry, I don't really want to ..." *"Why 'Perilous!!' I didn't know you were going to be here!"* Lois turned and found that the booming voice belonged to a wall of a man in a cowboy hat and powder blue suit -- she didn't know people actually wore such things. "Perilous," huh? This sounded like potential blackmail material. She looked at Perry and cocked an eyebrow. Her editor was pointedly ignoring her. "Well, if it isn't 'Wild Bill!' How are you, man? I haven't seen you in years." "I'm fine, jes fine." He drawled as he ran a connoisseur's eye over Lois. "And who is this pretty little filly?" He winked at Perry. "Not runnin' around on Alice now, are we? That would be perilous, 'Perilous!'" He bent over laughing at his own joke, and Lois couldn't resist a small giggle. The look on Perry's face was priceless! "Now, Bill, you know I would never do that. Alice is in the powder room. This is Lois Lane, my star reporter." "Wild Bill" looked her over again, took the hand she was holding out to him and turned towards Perry. "This little slip of a thang is the tigress who gets all those great stories for you? She looks like she weighs all of a hundred pounds, soaking wet. Y'all must raise 'em up tough up there in Metropolis." He turned back to Lois. "Honey, it's a real pleasure to meet you, and if you ever git tired of workin' for old 'Perilous' here, you jes come on down to Houston -- now there's a city!" Lois rescued her hand as politely as she could. "That's certainly a tempting offer, uh 'Wild Bill.' But I'm very happy at 'The Planet.'" "Well, hello, Bill. It's nice to see you again." Perry turned gratefully towards his wife. "Here you are, honey. Look who's here." Alice certainly has a way with her, mused Lois, as she watched the three old friends together. She'd tamed "Wild Bill" in about 3.2 seconds -- he'd pulled his hat off quicker than lightning when she'd walked up *and* he'd lowered his voice by about 60 decibels. Since things appeared to be settling down, Lois decided to slip away. With any luck, by the time she'd see Perry again he would have forgotten all about introducing her to that "nice young fellow" from the "Kansas City Dispatch." The last thing she needed was a convention romance. What could Perry be thinking of? She said her good-byes, whispered, "See ya later, 'Perilous'" to Perry as she passed him, and made good her escape. CHAPTER TWO "You know, Clark, I never will understand why some of the old timers tried to keep women out of the news business. I mean, will you just look at all the *babes* in this room." "'Babes?' Barry, I don't think they would appreciate being called, 'babes.'" "I know, I know. You don't think I'm going to actually call one of them that, do you?" "Well, I would hope not." Clark Kent smiled resignedly at his co-worker. Barry was always chasing after some girl or trying to get his friends to fix him up with girls, but he never seemed to have any luck in forming lasting relationships. Clark thought Barry would do better to just be himself, but Barry was perpetually looking for the right come on, or the perfect opening line. Barry's eyes popped open appreciatively. "Wow, look at *her!*" Clark started to turn around, but Barry stopped him. "No, don't! She'll see us looking at her." Clark obligingly stood still so the other man could use him as a cover for his "spying." From the rapt look on Barry's face the young lady in question must be really something. "I've *got* to meet her. I've just got to. She's headed towards the drinks table. See you later, Clark." He started off after his quarry, but turned back momentarily to remind Clark not to be so shy and to get busy and have some fun. Clark watched the would-be Romeo hurrying away and glanced past him to catch a glimpse of the young woman who had inspired such an extreme reaction. He couldn't see her face, but she did have a nice figure and pretty, dark brown hair. She carried herself well; in fact she looked like a woman who would know just how to handle a guy like Barry, despite the fact that the top of her head would probably barely come to Clark's chin. Clark turned away before Barry reached the unknown's side -- he didn't want to witness the upcoming carnage. In fact, Clark was thinking about calling it a night. He'd been on the committee that had put this convention together and that, combined with an already full schedule at the "Dispatch," meant he hadn't had much free time lately. He was seriously thinking about slipping away and flying down to see his parents. It had been a month since he'd been able to get down there and he missed them. They were the only other people in the world who knew he was not human -- that his Kryptonian physiology was able to store and use the rays of the Earth's yellow sun to give him unique powers. At times, this isolation of his was acutely hard to bear. When that happened, a trip home helped him find his balance again in addition to giving him solace, because the farm where he grew up was one place where he could truly be himself. "Well, Kent, you made it, I see." Clark glanced around to see his editor, Johnson Davies, coming towards him. He waited a moment until J.D. had reached his side, and then replied, "Yes, sir. We put the paper to bed a little over an hour ago." "Good, good." J.D. then lapsed into silence and stood looking around the large room with its constantly shifting crowd. When he'd first started working for this kindly, quiet man these silences had disconcerted Clark -- he hadn't known what was expected of him. He'd since learned, though, that J.D.'s retiring demeanor masked a keen observer of people and life; that the silences were just his way of absorbing and cataloging information which would later be used to wonderful effect in his writing. What he lacked in social graces was more than made up for in his skill with a pen. Clark had learned a lot from this man and was very grateful to be working with him. So they stood together, observing the crowd and occasionally breaking the companionable silence when one or the other felt the need. "Ah, I see a former colleague of mine, Perry White. Let me introduce you to him, Clark." "I met him earlier, J.D." "Did you? That's good. He was a great reporter in his day. Did I ever tell you that he and I were in Beirut together -- before the marines showed up? Those were the days. He's done all right for himself as Chief Editor of the 'Daily Planet.' I think I'll go say 'Hello.'" Clark watched his boss walk off and saw the two newsmen greet each other. He looked at his watch. If he left right now he'd have about an hour at home before his parents would be going to bed. Maybe Mom made a pie for supper, he thought, and just maybe -- if I'm lucky -- there will be some left over for me. He smiled to himself as he headed for the door. He'd almost made it when he felt someone tug on his arm. He turned and nearly groaned when he saw Barry's distraught face. "She shot me down, Clark. Like I've never been shot down before. I think I'm in love. Really! I really do. You've got to help me, Clark. How do I get her to talk to me?" * * "It's not funny, Diane." Lois was fuming because some guy had had the nerve to walk right up to her during what had so far been a pretty decent evening and had tried to hit on her. "Well, Lois, I think it's hysterical. I didn't know guys still used lines like that. And you ... well, running over him with a steamroller would have been kinder. If you hadn't been so angry you would have laughed, too, at the expression on his face." Lois stared at the attractive blonde next to her as she thought about what Diane had just said. She had to admit the poor guy had rather resembled some tiny forest creature who was about to become intimately, and terminally, acquainted with a semi. She giggled, her brown eyes twinkling. "I did kind of ... annihilate him, didn't I?" Diane rolled her eyes. "Honey, he may never walk upright or produce a coherent sentence again in his life -- and you didn't even lay a finger on him. My hat's off to you, and for the good of all womankind, I think you should write a book and pass on your secret to the rest of us mere mortals." This made Lois laugh a little harder. She could feel her irritation fading away. Diane was right, it was good to look at the funny side of it. As she wiped her eyes, she could see Perry bearing down on her. He looked quite determined and she had a feeling she knew why. She quickly told Diane she'd see her later, and slipped away. When Perry got to where Lois had been standing, there was no sign of her. "Great shades of Elvis! Where did that girl get to?" All Diane could do was shrug her shoulders. * * Clark was trying to be a good listener, he really was, but he'd heard this kind of thing from Barry before. He sort of wished the man would get a hobby ... preferably something that did not involve women in any way, shape or form. He was forcing himself not to look at his watch when his beeper went off. Thank heavens! He apologized to Barry and sprinted off to find a phone. If it wasn't anything too major -- if it was a problem he could solve over the phone -- he planned to head straight to his car after making this call. He did *not* want to run the risk of falling into Barry's clutches again. * * Lois had slipped into the exhibit area in an effort to avoid Perry. She saw a couple more people whom she knew, registered to win a set of encyclopedias and was trying out some new software in one of the booths when she heard the unmistakable booming tones of "Wild Bill." Since she didn't think she could handle another dose of Houston's loudest, she quickly thanked the young man in the booth and hurried away. As she rounded a corner, she thought she heard him calling after her, but she pretended not to hear. This is getting tiring, she thought. She slowed down and glanced behind her, but didn't see any further sign of him. Thank goodness! Maybe this would be a good time to head for her room. She looked back one more time, went around a group of large potted plants and walked right into Perry. "Lois! There you are!" I'm doomed, she thought. * * Clark hung up the phone. Well, that hadn't been too bad, just a question from one of the junior reporters who was under his supervision. Now to head for home. He took his name tag off, put it in his pocket and began to make his way to an exit, going in a direction which would almost ensure that he wouldn't meet up with Barry. "Mr. Kent!" Clark turned and saw a woman gesturing to him. She looked familiar and he rapidly searched his memory, sifting through the dozens of new names he'd heard that evening. Just as he reached her side, he remembered with relief where he'd seen her before and with whom, and he had a name. "Hello, Mrs. White." She smiled at him as she took his arm. "I see you found me. Has Perry been waiting long?" Clark looked from Alice White's face to the face of the woman she'd been talking to, and decided to play along. "Not too long. Would you like me to take you to him?" "That's very kind of you, Mr. Kent. First though, let me introduce you. Mr. Kent, this is Mrs. Henry Gargan; Amelia, this is Clark Kent." She watched as the two shook hands, then reclaimed Clark's arm. "So lovely to see you again, Amelia." Clark felt Alice's hand squeeze his arm lightly and he took that as a signal to leave. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Gargan." "Ah, yes ... and you, too, Mr. uh, Kent." The two of them moved away in the direction of the ballroom where the reception was being held. Clark held his peace and waited. "Dreadful woman." Alice White looked up at Clark's face briefly before turning her eyes forward again. "I'm very grateful to you for rescuing me just now. If I'd had to listen to one more thing her son the lawyer was doing, or hear about one more elaborate gift her son the doctor had bought for her ... well, I just wouldn't be responsible for my actions, that's all." She smiled briefly up at him, and he smiled back. She kind of reminded him of one of his aunts on his dad's side of the family. He liked her. "I'm glad I could be of service, Mrs. White." She patted his arm with her free hand, and he smiled at her again. What a handsome young man, she thought, even with the glasses -- all that dark hair, those beautiful eyes, and he had such a sweet disposition, too. He'd be a wonderful catch for some lucky young woman. That smile of his was certainly making her very married heart flutter pleasurably. "I think I see Perry. Your knight-errantry will soon be over, Mr. Kent." He blushed a little, which surprised her, as he stumbled over his words. She had thought that blushing, like modesty, had gone the way of the dinosaurs. Are there anymore at home like you? she wondered. Perry turned and spotted them coming towards him. She could see that he had Lois in tow. The two parties met and Perry was asking Alice if she was all right -- he wasn't used to seeing her walking on the arms of young men whom she barely knew. She was assuring him that she was fine, that Mr. Kent had merely rescued her from *Amelia* and very gallantly, too. Perry said, "Oh, brother! You mean that Gargan woman is here?" and then turned to introduce Lois to Mr. Kent. The words froze on his lips. It seemed that Lois and Clark had already found each other. Clark never felt Alice take her hand from his arm, nor did he know how he'd gotten from her side to Lois's. Somehow his feet had moved without him having to tell them. His heart knew her even though he'd never met her, and he just had to be where she was. He wasn't aware of the ballroom or the people or the music or even the floor under his feet ... only of her. He couldn't take his eyes off of her -- that face, those eyes. Those eyes. In those eyes he saw someone brave and strong, but also someone who had been hurt and betrayed. He longed to talk to her, to touch her, to be with her. He wanted to find out who was responsible for the hurt he saw, and he wanted to be certain she would never be hurt again. Lois had seen Alice approaching on the arm of an unknown young man and felt her earlier irritation returning. Was this some kind of set up? When she heard the concern in Perry's voice, and matched it with the relief and annoyance she heard in Alice's, she began to have her doubts. Maybe this wasn't the "nice young fellow" from the "Kansas City Dispatch" after all. Maybe he was just a guy who'd happened to have helped out her boss's wife. She turned to look at him more closely and met his eyes and for the first time in her life she lost herself in someone else's gaze. She felt her heart turn over and found she liked that feeling. Of her own accord she moved forward to meet him until they were only a foot apart. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, even though the part of her brain that normally warned her back from such collisions was screaming at her to CHAPTER THREE That nagging voice inside her head was back. Quiet!! "Is this the first time you've been to Kansas City?" She withdrew her gaze from the view outside the car and turned towards him. "Yes, it is. It looked ... interesting from the air this afternoon." "It's a nice city." He hesitated and seemed to be looking for something else to say. "Maybe ... if you've got some free time ... maybe I could ... show you some of the sights." "That would be nice." Lois turned to look out of the window again. A thousand thoughts, memories and impressions were freewaying through her head -- on- and off-ramping, merging, cutting in, braking: Clark's soft voice saying "Hi," the loudness of the voices around her when she'd returned to a sense of her surroundings, the wink from Alice as she'd led a stunned and (mercifully) silent Perry away, the tingle Lois had felt when she'd touched Clark's hand for the first time, the admiration in his eyes when he'd looked at her ... That look had been what had made her decide to go with him when he'd suggested it. She'd been admired by men before, and she thought she'd seen all the different ways a man could look at a woman; possessively, covetously, hungrily, slyly, smugly. Then along came this Clark Kent. When he'd looked at her, he'd seen her as a whole person -- she was sure of it -- not just as an attractive collection of various body parts. His eyes, never wavering from her face, seemed to have been able to see into her very soul: to all her hopes, doubts, ambitions, hurts, regrets and accomplishments. It never occurred to her to glance away, to break eye contact, for even as she was allowing him to see into her innermost being, he was granting her that same privilege. And in his eyes she saw not hunger or possessiveness, but friendship, regard, kindness, empathy and wonder. Then he'd smiled and said, "Hi" in a gentle, soft voice and she'd had no choice but to smile back. What was it about him that made it seem like she'd just found her long-lost best friend? "I'm sorry. I seem to be staring," he'd said in that same soft voice. "That's okay," she'd responded, still smiling at him, "I guess I was, too." "I'm Clark Kent," he'd said, as he held out his hand. "I'm Lois Lane," she'd said as she put her hand in his. That lightest of contacts had sent delicious tingles up and down her spine. His hand had felt so strong and yet so gentle and she'd moved a half step closer to him, when suddenly and unwelcomingly a sense of her surroundings had rushed back to her. The brightness of the lights and volume of the voices nearly staggered her. She looked around, wondering how long she'd been out of it. Perry and Alice were still there, so it couldn't have been too long, but Perry's mouth was hanging open and Alice was dragging him away before he could say anything, so it had been long enough. What could have gotten into her? She'd felt herself blushing and saw that Clark was having a similar reaction to their situation. They both realized at the same time that they were still holding hands, but were unsure what to do about it. They laughed a little, self-consciously, and then dropped each other's hands, but didn't move any further apart. Her nagging inner voice had told her to think up an excuse to leave, *now* while the getting was good, but she'd ignored it and had stood there talking to him, listening to him, watching his expressions, responding to his smiles. When Clark had suggested they go some place quieter, where they could really talk, maybe have something to eat, she'd agreed. The voice had said, He's not like that, she'd countered. the voice had said, dryly. As he'd guided her towards the doors of the ballroom, she was thinking they'd end up in one of the half dozen bars or restaurants with which the hotel was equipped. Once in the relative quiet of the lobby, though, he'd said he knew this great little place ... ... that was near a lake. The food was good, the music soft and they could just relax and get to know one another. She'd agreed to go with him, and the voice had become nearly apoplectic, and now she was in his car, heading she didn't know where, riding through the night with a man whom she didn't really know ... "Well, let's see. There's lots to do, especially this time of year. There are theatres and museums and parks ... You'll have to tell me what kinds of things you like to do and I'll check to see what'll be available while you're here." It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about, to realize that while she'd been off battling with her annoying inner voice for a few microseconds, Clark had been continuing his side of the conversation. She hoped he hadn't noticed her brief side trip. Clark heard himself talking about parks and museums and wondered if he'd lost his mind. Can't you think of something more interesting than that? He looked at her from the corner of his eye; she was staring out the window again. You're probably boring her to death! He could hardly believe she'd agreed to come with him anyway. In fact, he could hardly believe he'd gotten up the nerve to ask her; he'd certainly never done anything like that before in his life. Of course, he'd never met anyone like Lois Lane before either. There was a quality about her that spoke to something in him he hadn't even known existed -- something that had lain dormant until this evening. Now if he could just think of something intelligent to say ... Good grief! I'm starting to sound like Barry! That thought amused him so much, he felt the tension in him ease a little bit. Maybe he should follow his own advice for Barry, and just be himself. He looked over in Lois's direction and found that she was looking at him. They smiled at one another and each, in their own way, felt at ease again. Things just might work out after all. They made small talk during the next part of the journey. His car, she had one almost like it, when had he bought his? (It was a Jeep, but a later model than hers and dark blue instead of silver.) She made comparisons between the traffic of Metropolis and what she'd seen so far in Kansas City. He said he didn't think anything could compare to the traffic in Shanghai, and she laughed and said he hadn't seen Metropolis on a hot Friday afternoon when everyone decides to head out of town for the weekend. He had to admit that that sounded pretty wild. Another silence, but less awkward than the last time. Clark was concentrating on maneuvering safely through a sudden knot of cars and Lois was content to watch him. He was certainly the most courteous driver she had ever ridden with, and the most forbearing. Nothing the other drivers did seemed to get under his skin. He also had amazing reflexes, she noted thankfully, after he'd deftly avoided a collision with a car full of joy-riding teenage boys. She could feel herself relaxing even more. Something that wasn't easy for her, as she usually preferred to do the driving. They drove a little further and exited off the freeway into a residential area. The homes became more and more upscale and she began to wonder what kind of job he had that he could afford to take her to a restaurant in this neighborhood. They didn't stay in that neighborhood very long, however, and when they turned into an industrial-looking part of town, her inner voice started harping at her again. Lois did look, and she didn't like what she saw or what she was thinking. Everything looked so deserted. Clark was chatting with her again, telling her about how much the city had changed in just the short time he'd lived there. She was trying to hold up her end of the conversation, but a large part of her mind was centered on what to do if ... *if* ... Oh, god, I don't want to think about "if!" Now that her mind was flirting with various doomsday scenarios, she noticed for the first time just how strong Clark looked. His shoulders were certainly broad and he was quite a bit taller than her, too. She hadn't really taken it in before because he'd seemed so soft-spoken and gentle. She began to mentally review her Tae Kwon Do moves ... and every other bit of martial arts training she'd ever received. Clark made a couple more turns and the buildings got farther apart, the road got darker and the landscape got a lot more wooded. Lois's heart sank, but she continued smiling and talking to him, and tried not to listen to that blankety-blank inner voice. At least she'd have the element of surprise on her side, she tried to tell herself. But her "self" didn't feel any more cheerful. Great shades of Elvis, what had she gotten herself into?! What was he saying? Something about a speaker who was going to be at the conference tomorrow? Tomorrow seemed a long way off right now, and so did Kansas City ... the hotel ... people. The car turned again ... onto a gravel road. Uh oh. Lois could feel herself tensing. They went around a bend and the trees thinned out. There were lights, and other cars -- a parking lot, a sign with the name of the restaurant on it, people, the gleam of the moonlight on water ... All wild and scary thoughts exited stage right and, without her Greek chorus chanting predictions of disaster into her all-too-willing ear, Clark ceased to look like a satyr and resumed his previous, mild-mannered appearance. Lois could feel a flush of relief -- and shame -- crimsoning her face, making her glad for the relative darkness of the car's interior. The restaurant Clark had chosen was charming. It had log cabin-like construction with a low-pitched roof, and a covered porch which went around all four sides of the building. Fireplaces were set at the two narrow ends, and large windows looked out over the water and the flower gardens which, at this time of year, were not yet at their peak. Soft, danceable music could be heard above the sounds of crickets and other night creatures as Clark assisted Lois in getting out of the car. She paused for a moment to look around her and had to admit she was pleased with his choice. See, she told herself, this is going to be all right. Hush! Because of the relative lateness of the hour and the fact that it was the middle of the week, Clark was able to secure a nice table for them by one of the windows. Usually, he told her, you have to make reservations at least a day in advance. She nodded at his remark, but knew a little twinge of disappointment -- so he's brought other women here before. Clark was holding her chair for her and, as she sat down, she forced herself to focus on what he was saying and tried not to look crestfallen. "The first time I was here, the office was holding a party for a staff member who was getting married and moving away. I liked the place so much, I wanted to bring my parents here." He settled Lois into her place and then slipped into his own chair. "I made the mistake of calling for reservations on the day they arrived to visit me, though, and found that a little more planning was necessary than I'd thought." He was smiling as he told his story, and listening to him, she felt herself begin to smile again. "So, a few months after that, when I wanted to treat them to dinner and a show for their anniversary, I made sure I called *three* days before they even got here." He laughed a little at the memory. "I was kind of surprised when I phoned from the hotel that they had tables available tonight, but I'm glad they did." Their waiter came up just then to take their drink order giving Lois the opportunity to tell her pesky inner voice to go stuff itself. Every single time it had predicted doom and gloom, Clark had proven it wrong, so Lois decided she was going to shove the little monster into a closet and toss away the key for the duration of the evening. CHAPTER FOUR The waiter left and Lois glanced around the large room. There was a small dance floor at the opposite end of the restaurant from where they were sitting, and a few couples were dancing to music being played by a lone musician. From the looks of things there was a more elaborate set up for busier nights. She asked Clark about it and he confirmed that his parent's anniversary had fallen on a Friday night and there had been a three-piece band then. From there it was an easy jump to music and musicians, then plays ... so that by the time their drinks arrived, they were so engrossed in their discussion, they barely noticed. It amazed her how easily they slipped into conversation, as if they'd known each other for years. It felt strange and yet familiar, too, to be talking to Clark. They covered some of the usual first-time-on-a-date topics and, while she knew she had no reason to know the answers to the questions she was asking him, she really had a sense of having heard all of this before -- a feeling that she should know this stuff already, but without knowing why or how. She heard about the farm he'd grown up on, and could tell from his voice and his expression how much that place and his family meant to him. It made her a little jealous to listen to him talk with such affection for his parents since her own growing up years had been filled with parental squabbles, quarrels, separations and finally, an ugly divorce. So many of the memories of that time she'd kept locked up inside, choosing not to talk, or even think, about them unless forced to. There was something about Clark, though, that seemed to invite confidences and she found herself telling him a bit about her childhood and her inability to please her father -- a distant, but talented doctor who "... only came home to criticize. I'd say, 'Look Daddy, I got a 98 on this test.' And he'd say, 'That's great Lois. That leaves two points for improvement.'" The sympathetic way Clark had laid his hand on hers had almost brought a tear to her eye, and she didn't know whether to be glad or sorry when the waiter had interrupted them by bringing hot breads and salads to the table. Wanting to change the subject, she began talking about the story she was going to start working on when she got back to Metropolis -- exposing a car theft ring. She told Clark that Jimmy had promised to show her how to boost a car and all about the disguise she planned to wear to infiltrate the gang. He was amazed at her daring as well as concerned for her safety, but kept his fears to himself, sensing that she would resent what would seem like interference. After all, Lois Lane had gotten herself in and out of a lot of situations before while chasing down stories. Who was he to suddenly be telling her what to do? Instead, he asked who Jimmy was and laughed at her description of the eager, young, wannabe reporter. The salad plates were removed and their dinner appeared. Clark told Lois he'd known a "Jimmy-like" cub reporter at a paper he'd worked for in Borneo. The similarities were almost uncanny. She asked how he'd ended up working for a newspaper in Borneo and he told her a bit about the traveling he'd done after college. From there it was but a short step to world politics, current events and famous people, such as Lex Luthor. Clark had heard of the man, of course ... who hadn't? He wanted to know if Lois had ever met him, and she had to admit she hadn't -- yet. She'd seen him at press conferences and at one or two of his infrequent public appearances, but she confided to Clark that one of her major ambitions was to "... get the first one-on-one Lex Luthor interview, even if it kills me!" "Would you like something else?" The waiter was back at their table, taking their plates and offering them coffee ... dessert, perhaps? For the second time that evening Lois was brought abruptly back to a sense of her surroundings. She looked at her watch and saw that it was after 11 -- where had the time gone? She started to refuse anything for herself, but Clark managed to persuade her to share a dessert with him. He promised she wouldn't be disappointed -- his parents were still talking about it -- so she acquiesced to his request and the waiter went away to fulfill their order. Lois looked idly around the room, noticing that all but six of the tables were now unoccupied. Two couples were still dancing, but things were definitely winding down for the evening. "Uhm ...?" She turned back towards Clark at this tentative syllable. "Yes?" "Well, it will be a while before the dessert is ready. Would you ...?" He was looking slightly ill at ease, so she smiled a little to encourage him. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Would you like to dance while we're waiting?" She agreed (secretly hoping he knew something besides square-dancing), and he held her chair for her, then let her lead the way to the dance floor. There was only one other couple still dancing, so it was as if they had the place to themselves. She was losing herself to the soft music when ... "You dance pretty good ... for a reporter." Lois looked up at Clark in surprise and then realized that he was teasing her. People didn't usually tease Lois Lane, so it took her a moment to come up with a response. "Yeah, well, I guess all the tennis I played in college taught me to be light on my feet. You're not so bad yourself ... farm boy." He was grinning now. "I suppose all that football *you* played in college is responsible?" "Actually, I learned from a Nigerian princess who'd studied ballroom dancing in England." She thought he was still teasing her. "Oh, really? How fascinating!" "Well, it was actually. Her brother and I used to play football on the cricket lawn behind the mansion, too. Their mother was always trying to get us to stop, but their father would just say, 'Let the boys have some fun, Mother. I wish I could be out there with them.' And then she'd say ..." She'd been listening to him with growing amazement. "You're not kidding, are you?" He grinned at her. "Nope." There was something about his grin that one just had to respond to, and Lois did. Then she found herself chuckling; she was having so much fun! Clark chuckled too, and pulled her back into the dance, moving with a controlled grace and strength that thrilled her. He was just one surprise after another! She was dancing with her head against his shoulder by the time the waiter returned with their dessert. No one had ever made her feel the things she was feeling now. How could Clark's shoulder seem like the natural place for her head, his hand the natural place for hers? Her head said be careful, you've just met this guy, but her heart ... her heart was telling her otherwise. The music stopped and Clark guided her to their table, keeping his hand on her back this time -- a gesture she normally would have interpreted as possessive, but with Clark, well ... When she saw the dessert she could understand why it had taken a while for it to appear. In the middle of a rather large pearl-white dinner plate sat a small piece of what would assuredly turn out to be one of the richest chocolate concoctions known to man. Placed around it in a star-like pattern were raspberries and slices of strawberries. Two strawberry slices adorned the top of the cake, also. In the remaining space someone had drizzled a line of a raspberry- colored sauce and a line of caramel-colored sauce in a pattern reminiscent of a spirograph picture. Powdered sugar had been lightly sprinkled over the entire production. Lois's eyes popped open at the sight of so much opulence and Clark watched her delightedly, happy to have pleased her. It *was* delicious and they enjoyed eating it almost as much as they enjoyed sharing it. The musician finished playing at about the same time they were finishing their coffee. They were one of the last two couples there. Clark left a generous tip, paid the bill and they got ready to leave. They walked out into the quiet, star-lit night and their hands found each other. Without saying a word they began strolling towards the lake, following a well-worn path illuminated by small lamps stuck into the ground at strategic points. It was cooler by the water and Lois moved a bit closer to Clark for warmth. He took his jacket off and put it on her shoulders, then kept an arm around her as they watched the softly rippling water and listened to the settling of the night and each other's breathing. Clark felt Lois put her arms into his jacket's sleeves, then half turn towards him, circling her arms around his waist and resting her head against his shoulder. He laid his free hand over her arm and touched his cheek lightly against her hair. He'd never known the kinds of emotions he was experiencing that night; elation, wonder, fear ... love. Yes, he was sure this was love. How he knew wasn't clear. He just knew. Actually he'd known the moment he'd seen her that she was something special, and the more he was with her the more certain he was that Lois Lane was the one woman he'd been waiting for his whole life. All this was making him rather giddy -- the way she felt in his arms, the softness of her hair against his cheek, the scent of her perfume -- all combined to give Clark some of the wildest thoughts of his young life. He wanted to soar into the night with her, to cover her with kisses and show her the world as only he could -- the way the stars saw it each night -- but he knew he couldn't. She'd shared a lot of things about herself with him that evening, but it was mostly in the things she hadn't said that he'd learned about her distrust of people and their motives, about her disappointments and disillusionments, and he believed that coming on too strongly would only cause her to raise her defenses again. She had a hard edge to her and he could understand why it was there. It had pleased him to see her relaxing more and more as the evening had progressed, responding to his teasing and sharing bits of her life with him. She had a sharp mind and a wit that had had him in stitches more than once, and had shown him a side of Lois Lane he guessed few people ever saw. She felt comfortable with him now and he didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that. So he focused all of his considerable energy into relaxing, breathing normally ... *and* keeping his feet firmly on the ground. Lois couldn't remember the last time she'd known such contentment. The evening had been just about perfect: the food, the conversation ... the company. She'd actually been able to just relax and be herself. It had been a very long time since she'd been able to do that -- to laugh and have fun without worrying about the other person's motives. She'd told him things tonight she'd never told another soul. What is it about this Clark Kent that he could make her feel so good, so comfortable ... so safe? She raised her face to look at him, straining her eyes a bit in the semi-darkness and watched him turn his face towards her. He looked down at her for a moment, then she felt, rather than saw, him hesitate just before he leaned over to kiss her very gently and sweetly. She tightened her hold on his waist, kissing him back. The kiss ended but they continued holding onto each other -- for support. That first kiss! Wow! Lois could hardly believe her reaction to it. She'd been kissed before, by men who had put much more passionate effort into it, but none of those had affected her the way Clark's first tentative embrace had done. She'd decided this required further study, and was just raising her face to his for another kiss when she saw the little lights which lined the path flicker off and on. Clark laughed softly. "Looks like they want to close up for the night." "Yeah, I guess. Their timing is lousy, though." * * * The return journey to her hotel was woefully short. All too soon, Clark was pulling into the parking lot. She couldn't help but contrast her present feeling of regret to her earlier ones of alarm and concern as she watched Clark walk around the car to open the door for her. She blushed again slightly. How could she ever have thought such things about him? She wondered briefly if she'd be telling him good night in the lobby, but he let her know pretty quickly that "... when I take a woman home, she gets door-to-door service." Clark took her hand as they walked through the lobby towards the elevator. It was one of those with glass panels where the fourth wall should be, so passengers could watch themselves being shot up to their floors -- and other people could watch them -- a state of affairs Lois and Clark both silently deplored. The car arrived at the 15th floor and, as they walked towards Lois's room, Clark held his hand out for her key. Slightly bemused, she handed it to him, watched him insert the card into the slot and open the door for her, then step back after quickly checking the room from the doorway to be sure that all was secure. Diane had left a light burning in the sitting room for her, and it was obvious that no dastardly villains were lurking about. Still, his old-fashioned courtesy touched her. "Your roommate snores a little, doesn't she?" he asked quietly, as he handed the key back to her. "Oh, no!" she whispered in comic dismay. "I didn't know that. This is the first time I've ever shared a room with her." CHAPTER FIVE Lois replaced the key in her purse and pulled the door almost shut again so their talking wouldn't wake Diane ... and to stall for time. Now that the moment for this good night stuff had come, she didn't know what to say. Good grief! She'd been babbling away quite comfortably all evening, yet now all she could think of was ... "Thank you, Clark. I had a really nice time." He smiled. "Me, too, Lois." Clark was waging a battle within himself, trying to decide what to do. Part of him wanted to tell her how he felt about her and the other part was urging caution -- extreme caution. He so desperately wanted her to know she wasn't just another date, that she was special to him. But how to do that without scaring her off, he had no idea. She was watching him curiously; he had to say something. "In fact," he added, "this was probably the best time I've ever had with anyone." His heart was thumping uncomfortably and there was a knot in his stomach the size of Gibraltar, but he was determined to say this. "Lois ... something happened to me tonight. Something I can't explain. I don't know what it is, or how it's possible, but I feel so comfortable with you ... like I've known you all my life." He moved a little closer to her, never taking his eyes from her face, and the look on her face was making him lose his resolve to go slowly. He just had to let her know some part, at least, of what he was feeling. It wasn't in his nature to play the kind of games that seemed to come so easily to Barry. All he could do was speak what was in his heart, and hope it was enough. He'd waited so long to find her that he was afraid of losing her. He didn't want to even think about losing her. "What is it about you that makes me feel so good about you ... makes me want to tell you things ... things I've never told anyone else before?" She listened to him with mixed emotions; relieved to hear what he had to say -- so it had been the same for him -- and yet worried that things seemed to be moving too fast. Lois had never been in a situation like this, and she couldn't decide whether to run like crazy or stay, and take a chance. "I don't know, Clark. But, whatever it is I ... kind of ... feel the same way about you." She had never admitted anything like this to anyone else before and she could feel herself blushing a bit as she made her halting confession. A look of great tenderness came over Clark's face as he listened to her -- almost as if he somehow understood what it had cost her to make that admission. "I'm so glad to hear you say that, Lois. Thank you. I ... I thought it was just me." She shook her head. He put a hand up to her cheek, gently caressing it, before leaning down to kiss her again. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Not to Lois Lane! She *never* had any luck with men. She was going to wake up and find out this was all an hallucination, or some kind of cruel joke. That's the way it had always worked before, but oh, how she wanted this time to be different. Please, let this time be different. She moved even closer to him and rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder. He whispered into her ear. "This is going to sound crazy, but I'm ... I've got this horrible fear that when I walk away tonight you'll somehow disappear ... that this isn't real." She looked up at him in wonder. "You, too?" He nodded. She smiled self-consciously. "I thought it was just me, and ... to be honest, my track record hasn't been too good in the relationship department. I've learned not to trust people, or myself, when it comes to things like this, so ..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at him uncertainly. He returned her regard steadily. "Lois, my own experience ... in the 'relationship department' has been somewhat ... limited. I've moved around a lot the past few years and I -- I've never been interested in -- That is ... I don't want to -- " She could see him blushing. He took a deep breath to get his voice under control, and tried again. "I've always wanted what my parents have -- a life-long, caring relationship with one special person." He could see a little flash of alarm in her eyes, knew that he'd said more than enough for one evening and hastened to reassure her, taking refuge once again in humor. "Don't worry, I *never* propose on the first date." The teasing gleam was back in his eyes. She chuckled a little, relieved. She kind of liked what she was hearing. At least he didn't seem to be after a one-night stand, but ... "That's good, because I don't accept proposals until at least the third date." "Whew! That's a relief!" They laughed softly, and felt at ease again. Clark took her hand. "It's getting late. Even later for you than me. How about ... if you don't have other plans, that is ... if we have lunch together tomorrow?" "Well ..." "I have to work in the morning, but I had planned on attending the speech by that guy from Chicago tomorrow afternoon. That's at 1:30. I could meet you here, at the hotel." Lunch sounded all right, kind of casual, low-key. "Okay, sure. Lunch." "Good." He smiled again -- that smile which made her knees a little weak. When he smiled like that she almost felt she would believe anything he told her. Believe me, I'd love to! Clark leaned forward to kiss her again, gently, to say good night. Lois, relieved by how quickly he'd responded to her fears and grateful for his understanding, kissed him back -- more enthusiastically than she realized. It left him rather breathless, and a bit stunned. "Thanks for understanding, Clark." Words had deserted him for the moment, and all he could do was make a noise which he hoped she would interpret as agreement. Blithely unaware of the effect she'd just had on him, she smiled up at him. "I'll see you tomorrow, then." She turned to go into her room, but was struck by a sudden thought. "How do I get in touch with you? If something comes up ... or something. Do you have a card with you?" Card? Oh, yeah, a card. Pull yourself together, Kent. "Uh, sure. I have one here somewhere." He looked through his pockets, actually had his hands on the things and had put them back before he realized what he was doing. That last kiss ... man! He hoped he could remember how to get home! "Here you go." His voice cracked briefly and he cleared his throat. "My office and pager numbers are on there." She took the card from him without looking at it. "Thanks. Well, good night, Clark." "Sure thing, Lois. Good night. See you tomorrow." She pushed the door open again and Clark turned towards the elevator. She was starting to look at the card when she realized she still had his jacket on. Dropping her purse and his card on a small table, she stepped through the door and back out into the hall. He was just about to turn the corner at the other end. "Clark!" she stage-whispered to him, but with every expectation of having to chase after him -- there's no way he'd be able to hear her. But, he did! She saw him stop and turn to face her. He started up the hall towards her and she could tell by his face he had no clue as to why she'd summoned him back. As soon as they met she spoke to him sternly, keeping her voice low. "I'll have you know, Clark Kent, I'm not in the habit of absconding with other people's property. Well, not unless there's a good story in it, that is." He still looked perplexed. "Your jacket, sir." "Oh." Sheepish smile. She took his jacket off and handed it to him. Their hands touched. "Thanks again for letting me borrow it." "You're welcome." They smiled at one another then moved forward, almost involuntarily, and kissed again -- a nice, long, lingering kiss. Her hands roamed up his chest as she moved to wrap her arms around his neck. His arms were around her back, completely enveloping her, holding her very tightly. This was the first time she'd been this close to him without one of them having his jacket on. She was acutely aware of his body in a way that hadn't been possible before. As she ran her hands over his shoulders and back, she could feel every muscle through the soft material of his shirt. His arms felt so strong as they held her close. Lois was having some very unreporter-like thoughts by the time the kiss ended, and she'd also come to a surprising decision. "Lunch seems like a long time from now," she murmured. "Huh?" Clark was having trouble coming back to earth after this latest encounter with the "Daily Planet's" star reporter. "I think we should have breakfast together, too." It took a moment for this to register with him. "Really?! That would be great, Lois!" A look of doubt came across his face. "It's pretty late, though. Are you sure you'll feel up to it?" "Of course I will." "I have to be at work by 7:30," he said, giving her one more chance to change her mind, "so we'd need to meet around six." "Hey, this is Lois Lane you're talking to here!" He laughed softly. "How could I forget? Okay, 6 a.m. it is. Would the 'Paddlewheel,' downstairs, be all right?" "Sounds fine." "I'll look forward to it." He paused, looking concerned again. "You're sure that you'll ...?" "Clark!" He was grinning at the sound of mild exasperation in her voice. "I'm sorry, I can't help it." "It's a Smallville thing, isn't it?" "I guess." He smiled slightly and studied her face to see if he'd offended her. She could tell he was worried, so she punched him lightly on the arm and commanded him to not let it happen again. Relieved by the teasing he heard in her voice, he leaned forward to kiss her briefly. "Good night, Lois." "Good night, Clark." "You go ahead and get back in your room. I want to make sure you're safe before I leave." She started to ask him if he'd heard any of the things she'd just said to him, then decided you can take the boy out of Smallville, but you can't take Smallville out of the boy -- and she was just too tired to try enlightening him any more that night anyway. Besides, on Clark, all this chivalry stuff was kind of sweet, so she walked back to her room and even waved to him before shutting herself in for the night. Once inside she leaned against the door, smiling to herself before pulling off her shoes and tiptoeing towards the bedroom. Lois was hoping to slip into bed without waking her roommate. She wasn't in the mood for "girl talk" tonight; she wanted to hug the events of the evening to herself for a while longer. With her hand on the bedroom doorknob, she listened for any sounds from within, but couldn't hear anything. If Diane had been snoring before, she'd stopped now. Ever so slowly Lois turned the knob and pushed on the door, praying it wouldn't squeak. Well, there wasn't any squeak, but with the door open she could certainly hear Diane snoring -- not loudly, but she *was* snoring. How had Clark been able to hear that from the hallway door? As a matter of fact, how had he been able to hear her when she'd whispered after him in the hall earlier? Then she chided herself. So he's got good hearing. That's not a crime, is it? He's also very strong, has great reflexes and is one hell of a kisser! None of those are crimes either. She moved over to the window and looked down, wondering if she'd be able to see him going to his car. At first she thought her room was facing the wrong way, but then she got her bearings and sure enough, there he was, walking across the parking lot. She watched him reach his car and unlock the driver's-side door. Instead of getting inside, though, he turned and looked back at the hotel. He seemed to be searching for something. He stared intently in her direction for a few seconds then raised his hand as if to say good-bye. She started to wave back, then thought; this is ridiculous! I'm standing in a dark room, 15 floors up. There's no way he could really be looking at me. Clark tossed his jacket onto the passenger seat, got into the car and drove away. Lois stood at the window until she could no longer see the taillights of his vehicle, then closed the curtains and began to get ready for bed. When she'd performed all of her usual bedtime chores, she went out to the sitting room to turn off the light. She spotted her purse on the little table by the door, and went over to pick it up. Clark's card was there too, and she carried it with her to the light, intending to put it in her wallet, but just as she was about to slip it in something caught her eye and nearly made her laugh out loud. She had to sit down and hold her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles that threatened to overwhelm her as she read: "Clark Kent Assistant Editor Kansas City Dispatch" No wonder Perry had looked so dumbfounded -- he'd gotten his way without even trying. She'd been out with his "nice young fellow" from the "Kansas City Dispatch" after all. CHAPTER SIX When Clark had driven away from Lois's hotel, he'd headed straight for his place, but he didn't stay there long. He was much too excited to sleep and so, after quickly changing into dark jeans and a T-shirt, he took off for the sky. Locally, his flying was necessarily limited to the night hours since he couldn't risk anyone finding out about him or his special abilities. There was too much at stake -- his parents' well-being and safety, as well as his own chance for a "normal" life. It was such a part of him now, hiding his Kryptonian origins and his powers, but this need for secrecy chaffed him -- especially when he saw someone in trouble. He couldn't just look past people who were hurting and not try to help them, so sometimes he took chances. His father, Jonathan, would often admonish him for this, telling him that some day, some "nut with a video camera" was going to catch him pulling one of his "stunts," and he'd be put in a laboratory and "dissected like a frog." Clark had heard all of this before, and while he knew the dissecting part was out of the question (since he was invulnerable), he could appreciate the underlying concern which prompted these outbursts. And Clark did try to be careful, he really did, but the fact remained that he couldn't just let someone die in a fire if there was any way he could get them out, or let someone drown just because he was afraid of discovery. Consequently, he'd gotten pretty clever at covering up what he was really doing. He'd use other would-be rescuers as a blind: doing most of the work himself, and then giving credit to other people. Or, helping someone so fast -- appearing out of nowhere and then disappearing back into the smoke or the gloom -- that people thought angels or their own long-dead relatives had somehow helped them escape. It made for good television on shows which dealt with unexplained phenomena, but it was always a dicey thing to do. He was hoping someday to come up with a way to help more people, but for now he had to be content with doing what he could, and making a quick getaway afterwards. The night was a beautiful one, the air smelled wonderful and he felt so happy. He started out flying over the darkened countryside which surrounded the city, but soon that wasn't enough, and he turned and headed for the stars. Going straight up, faster and faster until he was just a blur, he was out of the earth's atmosphere in just moments. He hovered in space for a while, reveling in the colors and shapes as they appeared briefly through the shifting cloud patterns on the planet below him. Watching this ever-changing show had often calmed him in the past, but tonight it wasn't enough. Well, maybe he couldn't fly over cities in daylight, but there were many places still remote and unpopulated enough which he could visit without fear of detection. He headed for some of those now. Hours later, feeling a little calmer, but no less happy, he found himself over the farm where he'd grown up. His enhanced hearing told him his parents were stirring and getting ready to start a new day. Sure enough, in a few minutes he saw his dad come out of the back door of the house and head for the barn through the pre-dawn darkness. Clark waited until Jonathan had entered the barn before landing and calling out softly to him. Jonathan was delighted to see his boy, hugged him enthusiastically and wanted to hear all about what Clark had been doing since his last visit. They worked together to complete the morning chores while they talked, and so surprised Martha by finishing everything sooner than Jonathan could have done alone. She had breakfast only half ready when she heard footsteps on the porch. Two sets of footsteps could mean only one thing -- Clark was home! She met him at the door with a kiss and a floury hug. They made him sit at the table and tell them all his news while they finished getting breakfast ready. There was lots to tell. His job kept him really busy and lately there had been the conference to work on, too. They wanted to know how that was going and he filled them in on the events of the first evening. "... and I guess about 80% of the participants are here already. The rest will probably sign in before the first session this morning. There are newspaper people here from all over the country, some really big names. Even Perry White from the 'Daily Planet' came this time and brought his wife with him, as well as four members of his staff." Martha's ears pricked up. She and Jonathan knew their son better than anyone else, and she could tell by the way Clark mentioned the "Daily Planet" contingent, that something was definitely "up." "The 'Daily Planet,' huh? That's a great paper all right. Any names we would know?" "Well, I haven't met them all ... yet. But Lois Lane is one of them. You've probably read some of her work -- the wire services are always picking up her stories." Martha and Jonathan were on the point of gathering up the plates of hot food to carry them to the table, but this oh-so-casual remark -- and the fact that their only child was avoiding their eye -- put their parental radar on alert. Lois Lane! *The* Lois Lane! Well, well, well. They joined Clark at the table and began passing the food around. Jonathan spoke first. "Oh, sure, Clark. We've read lots of articles by her. I would think she'd be tough as nails based on what I've read." "Oh, yes," Martha added. "I've been amazed more than once by the kinds of people she takes on: gangsters, drug dealers, corrupt politicians. Her writing does seem to have a touch of cynicism to it, though, as if she just knows there are no honest people left in the world, that everyone has an angle." Clark had been eating absentmindedly while he listened to his parents. Now, as they waited for his reply, he tried to think of a way to describe Lois which would do justice to her. "Lois is ... well, she's complicated. I'd heard all the stories, of course; that she's domineering, uncompromising, even pigheaded." His face took on a far away look as he reached inside himself, to that special place in his heart Lois now occupied, trying to create a word-picture of her. "I guess she could be all of those things ..." He was smiling to himself, completely lost in his reverie, and his voice had taken on a tone that neither of his parents had ever heard from him before. It stirred long ago memories and emotions in them, reminding them of when they'd first discovered each other -- it was the voice of love. "But the woman I met last night was so much more than that. She's brave and strong, funny, vulnerable ... brilliant." Martha reached for Jonathan's hand, looking at him through tear-clouded eyes. He grasped her hand tightly and smiled at her in understanding before returning his attention to their son. Clark, lost in his own thoughts, hadn't noticed their silent exchange. "She's been hurt badly by life in the past, but it hasn't stopped her. I've never known anyone like her. We talked and talked for hours, about ..." He paused, frowning a bit in an effort to remember. His memories of Lois were more vivid, it seemed, than his memories of their conversation. "I don't even remember all that we talked about ... everything, I guess. I felt so comfortable with her, as if I'd known her all my life, and the evening just flew by." Clark's voice trailed off and the room was silent. Eventually he realized that no one was saying anything, looked up, and saw his parents smiling at him. He laughed a little, self-consciously. Martha hastened to reassure him, saying gently, "So you really liked being with her, didn't you, honey?" Clark nodded, still looking a little embarrassed. Jonathan told him that it was all perfectly understandable -- he'd acted in much the same way the first time he'd set eyes on Martha, nearly thirty years ago. After he'd told Clark about one of the things he'd done to get his future wife's attention, and they'd all had a good laugh, they were able to return to their meal. Clark couldn't stay long because he had to get back before daylight, so all too soon it was time for him to leave. As they had many times before, they kissed him good-bye and watched him take off, but never had they said their farewells with such mixed emotions. Happy for Clark that he'd found someone to love and yet very worried that of all the people in the world with whom he could have fallen in love, he'd chosen a world-famous reporter with a reputation for nabbing page-one headlines. * * * Clark dressed with more than his usual care that morning, taking time to pick out just the right combination of shirt, tie and suit. He whistled to himself as he drove into town. Arriving at the hotel with a good ten minutes to spare, he found a spot from which he could watch both the elevators and the door to the restaurant. Six o'clock couldn't get here fast enough. * * * Lois fumbled under her pillow, trying to retrieve and shut off the travel alarm clock before it could wake Diane. It didn't help any that her tired eyes were blurry and her fine motor skills were dull from too little sleep. Finally she found the switch and turned off that irritating noise, but it was too late -- Diane was awake. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up." Diane turned on her bedside lamp and looked at the clock the hotel's management had thoughtfully provided for each of the bedrooms. "Lois!" she mumbled disgruntledly. "What on earth are you getting up at this hour for?" "I ... uh, I just want to get a jump on the day, that's all." Diane looked at her and grunted in disbelief. "Well, I hope you're not expecting me to join in with whatever crazy scheme you've got going. I know you, Lois. The only reason you'd be up at this ungodly hour is because of a headline. Although how you managed to scare up a story when you've only been here a few hours, I *don't* know." Lois laughed in relief. She didn't want Diane prodding her for information about her date with Clark. Let her think what she wanted to. "Yeah, you know me pretty well all right, Diane." Lois began to gather some clothes and other things. "You go on back to sleep." "Oh, don't worry. I plan to." Diane began settling herself in her bed again, fluffing the pillow and rearranging her blankets. "So tell me, how long did you string that guy along last night before you steamrolled him like you did his pal? Did you get dinner out of him first?" Lois was standing at the closet trying to decide what to wear when the meaning behind Diane's words hit her with the force of an avalanche. She felt her heart sink into her gut, and knew her face would have reflected her dismay -- her utter despair -- if the other woman could have seen it. She clutched her belongings to her chest with one hand while gripping a hanger for support with the other. She had to swallow hard -- twice -- before she could get her throat to work well enough to be able to speak. "Yeah, I got dinner out of him." "Good for you, girl! I knew you'd give him a taste of his own medicine. Serves him right for conniving with his smarmy friend. Still, he sure was good-looking, I'll give him that. Do you mind if I turn this light back off? I'd like to get a little more sleep." "Sure. Go ahead. I'm going to be in the bathroom anyway." Grateful for the semi-darkness, Lois loosened her grip on the hanger with difficulty. She'd been clutching it so tightly that she'd wrinkled the blouse hanging on it. Forcing herself to smile, she turned towards the other reporter. "So tell me, how did you find out what was going on?" "Oh, I saw them together. After you ran off to hide from Perry, I was wandering around and saw them near one of those big palm tree-looking plants at the back of the room. The one who'd hit on you first was doing all the talking, and looking really upset, but the other one was nodding and smiling. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but when I saw him with Alice White later, well ... I wondered if they were up to something." Lois felt numb. This couldn't be happening, could it? Not Clark. He wouldn't have done something like this to her. Would he? She forced herself to focus on what Diane was saying. "I wanted to find you and tell you but I got snagged by this big guy from Texas who kept calling me 'filly' or 'heifer' or something. By the time I did get away, you were nowhere to be found. I was a little worried when I'd heard you'd gone off with him, but I figured you'd see through his little ploy without any trouble. At least you got a free meal out of it. All I ever get from guys is directions to their house." Diane settled herself for sleep again, totally unaware of having pulled Lois's dreams out from under her like a cheap rug. Relying on her years of undercover experience to retain the appearance, at least, of normal behavior, Lois walked towards the bathroom. Once inside, she turned on the water to make Diane think she was taking a shower, then she leaned against the wall beside the tub. Feeling totally betrayed and lost, she slowly sank to the floor while tears flowed unchecked down her face. CHAPTER SEVEN Lois stood in the shower for a long time, letting the hot water wash over her as she tried to decide what to do. Her brain was in turmoil and her heart felt conflicted. She was finding it hard to organize the few facts she had into a convincing argument either for or against Clark. Diane had seen the two men together; they knew each other, but had they conspired together? It certainly looked that way. Clark could have "rescued" Alice just to get in good with Perry, as a way of insinuating himself into their circle. It hadn't seemed like it at the time, but that might explain why he'd been so anxious to get her away from the ballroom -- to keep her from meeting anyone who could expose him. He must have been thrilled by how quickly she'd responded to his charms, and it was beginning to look highly probable that most of what he'd told her last night had been lies. All that talk about the farm and Smallville (she should have known a hokey name like that was pure fiction), and the world-traveler stories ... He had all the necessary skills of a womanizer; he was a good dancer, had endearing manners and a handsome face. He'd seemed the perfect gentleman. A perfect ... gentle ... man. She swallowed to force down a sudden lump in her throat. He *had* seemed so gentle and sweet and kind and ... No! She wiped one lonely tear from her cheek and squared her shoulders. She absolutely wouldn't let her feelings enter into this. They couldn't be trusted because Clark had been able to play them like a fiddle. He'd pretended to be a naive, ingenuous farm boy and she'd fallen for it. All the things he'd said about having limited experience in the "relationship department." Ha! This guy was a pro! He knew just which buttons to push to get women to open up to him. That realization made her pause in the act of wrapping her wet hair up in a towel. Through her brain flashed memories of some of the things she'd told him -- things she'd never told another living soul -- and she writhed with embarrassment. She clutched her robe more tightly around her at a mental image of Clark and his sleezebag friend having a big laugh at her expense; humiliation and chagrin changing over to white hot anger. How dare they?! It was all perfectly clear now. Looking back on it, she could see that what she'd thought were charming smiles were actually calculated smirks; slick women-duping techniques were disguised as heart-felt confessions and pseudo-chivalry. He was good, really good. One had to give him credit for that. Well, Mr. Clark Kent, I'm on to you, buster. You thought you met Lois Lane last night -- you ain't seen nothing yet! She checked her watch as she wiped the moisture from the bathroom mirror. It was only 6:10. Plenty of time for a little reconnaissance mission. Depending on how far they were planning on taking their hoax, Clark might actually be waiting for her downstairs. More than likely, though, he and his cohort would be hiding, waiting to see her hurrying down to meet someone who wouldn't be there. If they hoped to embarrass her, they weren't going to succeed; she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and was pleased by how determined she looked. All she wanted right now was Clark Kent, bagged and tagged. She smiled to herself in anticipation. "Let's get him!" * * Clark looked at his watch for the fiftieth time -- 6:40. It was beginning to look more and more as though Lois had been too tired to get up this early after all. He was disappointed, but it was understandable because he knew humans needed more sleep than he did. He and Lois *had* been out pretty late and, with the time difference, it had been even later for her than for him. Right now, though, he was trying to decide what to do; if he didn't want to be late for work, the latest he could wait was seven. He certainly wasn't going to call her room and risk waking her up. Checking his watch again he decided to hang around until the last possible moment just in case she was even now trying to get downstairs and meet him. He consoled himself with the thought that he could always leave a note for her at the front desk. *And* there was lunch to look forward to. * * It was 6:50 and she'd been watching Clark for almost 20 minutes now. He was playing it to the hilt: sitting where he could see the elevator and restaurant easily, occasionally glancing down at his watch, eagerly looking around as people went back and forth through the lobby. He certainly gave the appearance of a man who was waiting for someone special. He never turned in her direction, however, because it wouldn't have occurred to him that she would have taken the long way around, using the back stairs to get down to the convention center levels and then taking that elevator to the ground floor. She was currently standing just inside one of the meeting room doors and from there she could see a good portion of the lobby. According to the sign beside the door there was going to be a business meeting of the USPA Executive Committee in this room at ten, but right now the only people there were Lois and a bored convention center employee who was setting up chairs and tables. If Clark's "partner-in-crime" was around, Lois hadn't been able to spot him. He must be here somewhere, though, otherwise it made no sense. Surely he would be waiting to gloat over her being duped into dating his friend. There was no point in continuing to string her along, and the longer they went on with this the more they risked exposure. In fact, she was having trouble deciding exactly what their game was. What was she missing here? As she watched Clark, he looked around the lobby for maybe the hundredth time and at his watch for maybe the thousandth, then stood up and started walking further into the lobby, out of her line of sight. Aha! Now she had them! He's bound to be on his way to meet his accomplice, she thought, in order to plan their next move. Here was her chance to confront the pair of them. She was really looking forward to telling them exactly what she thought of them, *and* in such a way as to make them think she'd been on to their sorry little plot from the beginning. Slipping out of her hiding place, she went in the direction recently taken by Clark. She reached the archway which marked the dividing line between the hotel and the convention center, and stopped to search for her quarry. Not finding him, she eased toward another corner, all the while keeping her eyes open *and* trying to avoid attracting unnecessary attention. The hotel foyer and lobby were both dotted with large marble columns and sprinkled throughout with plants of various sizes and shapes. All this made stalking someone a fairly easy proposition, but she still stayed on the alert. He seemed to be headed towards the front desk, but Lois couldn't think why. The only things she remembered seeing in that area were some pay phones and an office or two, which left no place for the other guy to hide. Why wasn't Clark going to the restaurant or some other logical meeting place? When she reached a spot where she could see Clark again, there was no sign of his compatriot. There was only Clark, standing at the front desk and writing something. As she watched, the desk clerk handed him an envelope, for which he thanked the man with a friendly smile. He took some time over whatever he was working on and then read through it before folding it and sealing it up in the envelope. She saw him hand the envelope and pen to the clerk, then Clark chatted a moment longer while the other man placed it into one of the guest's boxes. Lois felt her mouth drop open a bit. Was he leaving her a note?! Why would he do that? What could he hope to gain by prolonging this farce? She snapped out of her reverie just in time to slip back around the corner again. There wasn't time to regain her previous hiding place, but if Clark were leaving he wouldn't be passing right by her location anyway so she would be safe. When he came into view again he did appear to be heading for the exit, but he seemed like a different guy than the one who'd sat anticipating her arrival. His feet dragged a bit, his shoulders were hunched forward and his hands were in his pockets. It was a perfect impression of a man who'd been disappointed and yet wasn't anxious to leave just in case things might get better. His steps got slower and slower the closer he got to the door. He stopped a few feet from it and turned to look in the direction of the elevators again. From her vantage point she could see his profile and so saw his expression change from one of rueful regret to mild hopefulness. She shifted her position a bit so she could see what he was looking at. One of the elevators was descending again with a group of five or six people on it. She returned her attention to Clark. It was almost ludicrous to see his face fall when he realized she wasn't one of the elevator's passengers. For whom was he giving this Academy Award performance? Unless ... it wasn't a performance? But it must be. He ... What other explanation could there be? They'd been seen conspiring together ... the "rescue" of Alice ... going somewhere else to eat ... it all fit. Didn't it? Lois was confused, and with the arrival of confusion much of her anger began to fade. Without that clouding her reason, she began to wonder if there were other explanations for what had happened. Just because Clark knew this other guy it didn't necessarily follow that he was involved in a conspiracy to make her look foolish. When she considered it dispassionately, everything Clark had said to her or done with her the night before could also be consistent with what she'd first thought of him: a really nice guy who liked her and had enjoyed her company. Part of her wanted to march right up to him and demand an explanation, but another part cringed from such an action. She'd been burned one time too many and she just didn't think she could handle any more disillusionments. Her luck with men had been so abysmal and many of those wounds were still raw. It all came down to a question of trust, and Lois had a hard time trusting people. She'd risked her life over and over again for a story, but in those instances she'd been relying on herself. Trusting someone else involved a different level of risk ... one she didn't think she could accept. So she watched in silence as Clark looked at his watch one last time before turning resignedly towards the door. Involuntarily she glanced at her own watch, and saw that it was almost ten after seven. He was going to be late for work. He'd waited so long and had taken the time to write to her and now he was going to be late for work. Would a guy just playing a hoax go to that much trouble? Her heart was urging her to go to him, but her fears kept her feet glued to the floor. His hand was reaching for the door. She was about to get what she wanted -- Clark Kent out of her life. So, why did she feel so miserable? "Oh, Clark," she said softly and sadly. She saw him stop and look around, glancing towards the elevators again. He couldn't have heard her, but she suddenly felt a bit panicky. What if he looked in her direction? She knew she couldn't make it back to the convention center entrance without being spotted, so she decided to go the other way, hoping that from this angle the columns and plants would keep him from seeing her. She hadn't gone too far, though, when she heard him call her name. "Lois! Here I am!" He must think I'm looking for him! Damn! She forced a smile onto her face and turned around. "Oh, Clark. There you are. I thought I'd missed you." He came up to her, all smiles and with the spring back in his step. As soon as he reached her, he caught her up in a big hug. "Me, too. I'm glad I hung around long enough to at least see you." He looked at her more closely. "Are you all right?" "Sure. I'm fine. I just ... well, I didn't sleep well last night." He was looking concerned. She didn't think she could handle sympathy right now. "I'll be fine. And next time I'll insist on a 'no snoring' room." That distracted him. The twinkle was back in his eyes. "Poor Lois. Did she snore all night? Well, don't worry about missing breakfast. Why don't you go back to bed for a while. I'll see you later, for lunch." Her feelings were in turmoil. She needed time to think. What if Diane had been right? She had to break this off right now. She must have been insane to have let it go this far already. "No, Clark. I can't. I have to ... That is, Diane reminded me ... I, uh we ... Diane and I, have plans for lunch with some people we met at the reception last night. I'm sorry." CHAPTER EIGHT "Oh," Clark said. He was disappointed, but also concerned -- she seemed so distressed. He hastened to reassure her. "That's all right, Lois. I understand. Look, I'll have to go back to work after the lecture this afternoon, but I should be able to get away by seven at the latest. Why don't we have dinner together? I know this place, kind of casual but the food's good ..." She'd set herself on this course of action and now she was determined to stick with it, no matter what. In full retreat, holding her dignity to her like a ragged cloak, she sought a way out. "I can't, Clark. I already have plans for tonight -- plans I made before I even met you." Something in her tone of voice warned Clark that this was more than just sleeplessness. "Lois, what's wrong?" "Nothing. Nothing at all. I just have other plans ... that's all." Clark was getting really worried. He searched for some plausible reason for the way Lois was acting, and thought he had the answer. "Did I do something or ... or say something last night to offend you? Because if I did, I'm sorry. I -- " "No, Clark. That's not it at all. I just ... have ... plans." There was a finality in her voice that was unmistakable. Clark felt defeated. What else could he say? She was making it clear she didn't want to be with him. What could possibly have happened since last night to have effected this change in her? They were standing less than a foot apart but it might as well have been a mile, and he had no idea how to get close to her again. "Oh. I see. Well, if you have plans then ..." She watched the light go out of his eyes, saw his face shut down, and knew she'd really hurt him. "Clark, I'm sorry. You understand, don't you?" Yes, he thought he was beginning to. "Sure, it's fine." He looked at his watch and took a step backwards. "I'm going to be late for work. Good-bye, Lo -- Miss Lane." She watched him walk away until the columns hid him from view and tried to tell herself that what she'd done was for the best. It really, *really* was for the best. Even if he hadn't been involved in a plan to trick her, or make fun of her there was no room in Lois Lane's life for romance. She didn't have time for it. So it was better this way. Really. She would tell herself that many times during the next few hours, just as she would replay that parting scene over and over in her mind; seeing once again the hurt on Clark's face, hearing the sad confusion in his voice, and feeling torn all over again. It would be some time though, before it would occur to her that she hadn't actually seen Clark walk out of the door because the columns and plants had obscured her vision of him fairly quickly. And she would wonder -- if she hadn't been able to see him, how could he have seen her? * * * "Clark! I need those figures by 11." "Yes, sir. I'm working on them now." How could I have been so stupid as to think a woman like Lois Lane would even ... "Hey, Clark! That should be some game this weekend, huh?" "Yeah, Dave." Game. Was she playing some kind of game? Does she do this at every convention? "Are you Kent? Well, I've got a package for you. Sign here." That's me all right. Clark Kent -- world's biggest idiot. "Clark, I made brownies last night. Want one?" Lois loves chocolate. The look on her face when she saw the dessert ... the way she seemed to enjoy it ... Ring ... Ring ... Ring ... Stupid phone. What is it now? "Clark? You read German, right? Could you translate this phrase for me?" I can read 347 different languages. Why can't I tell when a woman is playing me for a fool? "Clark! Robbery at the Municipal Bank! Tom and I are on our way!" "Okay, Sally. Be careful!" Wish I could help out at things like that. Hope nobody gets hurt. Wish I knew what I'd done last night ... Ring ... Ring ... Darn this phone. "Have you looked over the copy I sent you yet, Clark?" "I LAN'd it back to you five minutes ago. Looks good." Lois looked so good last night in the candlelight at dinner, in the moonlight by the water ... she even looked good in my jacket. And the way she felt in my arms ... the kisses.. "Clark. Could I see you in my office for a moment, please?" "Sure, J.D. Be right there." If only I could get five minutes of peace and quiet so I can try and sort things out. "Got any plans for lunch, Clark? Clark?" No. No plans. Not any more. Ring ... Ring ... Ring ... Ring ... Ring ... Oh, Lois. I love you ... * * "Clark, what do you think?" "Huh, what?" Clark came back to earth with a jolt. He was in the conference room and six pairs of eyes were looking at him expectantly. Obviously it was his turn to speak, but he had no idea what he should say. In his mind he'd been re- playing the scene from the hotel for the zillionth time -- watching Lois's face, hearing her voice, knowing something was wrong, feeling cold fear creeping into his gut ... "I'm sorry, J.D. What did you want to know?" His editor looked at him closely. "Clark, are you sure you're all right? From the clip I saw, that explosion was no Nickel-popper." "No, J.D., I'm fine. Really. I am a little concerned about the man we pulled out of the car, though, and it's been a pretty busy morning. I've just got a lot on my mind, that's all." And memories from last night and this morning keep popping into my head like clips from old newsreels. I think I'm going crazy ... "I'm fine, J.D." "Well, if you're sure." Clark was relieved when his boss's penetrating gaze turned from him to one of his co-workers. The meeting broke up a few minutes later and Clark headed for the relative calm of his little office. He hadn't been able to catch his breath since leaving the hotel. The encounter with Lois had knocked the wind out of him and then, on the way to the office, he'd come upon a wreck. He'd had to do something -- he couldn't stand by while someone was burnt alive in their car. Thank goodness his actions had stimulated two others into coming forward to help. It had meant he'd had two more people to watch out for, but at least having them there made his stunt less conspicuous. In all the confusion, however, he'd failed to notice the traffic 'copter until it was too late. Now the "dramatic rescue" was all over the TV and it was just one more thing to add to his list of worries. By the time he'd arrived at the office in his scorched jacket and shirt everyone had seen the news footage. So instead of being able to just slip unobserved into his office, he'd had to run the gamut of his co-workers' concern and expressions of amazement. At first they hadn't known it was him on the screen because the helicopter had been pretty high up which made the people on the ground look about half an inch tall, but after the explosion the 'copter pilot had decided it was safe to get a closer look. That's when one sharp-eyed staffer had identified him by his brightly-colored tie, and the jig had been up. They wanted to hear all about how he'd used his jacket to grasp the hot metal, and how he'd worked with the other two men to pry open the door, and how he'd felt when the car had exploded as he and his fellow rescuers were carrying the victim away. He was only saved from having to lift up his shirt to show everyone he was absolutely, positively all right by J.D. coming out of his office to investigate the cause of all the commotion. Everyone scattered and Clark was left to face his boss alone. J.D. had looked him over; taking in the oily smudges and the scorch marks, then studying his face intently before saying quietly, "Looks like you've had a pretty stunning morning, Clark." Well, I do feel stunned, Clark thought, as he glanced down at his ruined clothes. "Yes, sir." Then he'd looked back at J.D. and was surprised to see not just concern but also sympathy in the other man's eyes, and wondered what possible secrets his own face had given away. He could feel himself starting to blush just before J.D. had waved him away to change his clothes and call his parents so they wouldn't worry. As he'd cleaned up, Clark thought of all the different connotations one could put on the word "stunning" and tried to decide which one J.D. had meant to use. It was difficult to say. The man had a way of seeing what you didn't want him to see, and the ambiguity of the remark made Clark a little uneasy. He wasn't granted the luxury of time for reflection however, because the newsroom was really hectic that morning and Clark had been quickly sucked into the vortex along with everyone else. * Sitting at his desk after the meeting, he reflected that things weren't likely to get much better any time soon. Suddenly he felt very tired -- not so much from lack of sleep, but more from the emotional strain. Much as he might try to, he couldn't seem to put the events of the morning out of his mind, nor could he stop himself from re-experiencing all the attendant emotions. There was still work to be done, though, and as he got up to get a third cup of coffee he found himself wishing he hadn't told Jim to go to the lecture in his place. At first it had seemed like a good idea, because he hadn't wanted to risk an accidental confrontation with Lois. Now, however, it might have been worth it just to be able to get away from the office for a while. His mind could have wandered all it wanted to. "Well, well, well. If it isn't my good *friend,* Clark Kent. My *wonderful* buddy! The man I would trust with my *life!* It seems, however, that I can't trust him with my girl." "Barry, what are you talking about?" "*What am I talking about?* I'll tell you what I'm talking about -- " Annoyed by the man's continued sarcasm and junior high histrionics, Clark cut him short. "Just get to the point, okay?" "The point is, pal-of-mine, you stole my girl. That's what the damned point is." I'm really not in the mood for this right now, Clark thought, as he turned from fixing his coffee to face Barry. Trying to put as much patience as he could into his voice he said, "Look, Barry, I really have no idea what you're talking about." Barry's mouth was hanging open. "'You have no idea ...' Clark! *My* girl! *The* girl!" Clark just shook his head. "Barry you have a new girl with every work shift practically." He turned back to put sugar in his coffee, satisfied that this was just one of Barry's usual tantrums. "Look, I have to get back to work. Why don't you tell me about it another time." Frustrated by Clark's apparent lack of interest, Barry grabbed his arm and pulled him around. "I'm talking about the girl from last night. The one I told you I was in love with. The one I asked you to help me with. You stole her from me." "I don't know what ..." Clark started to say again, and then stopped. Into his mind flashed a remembered image of Barry hot-footing it after a certain young woman. He suddenly realized that that young woman had indeed been Lois -- same dress, same hair -- but since he hadn't seen her face at the time he hadn't made the connection until now. Feeling chagrined he looked at the other man. "Barry, I'm sorry. I've just realized what you've been trying to tell me. It wasn't done deliberately, believe me. We met by accident, got to talking and had some dinner together. That's all. Nobody stole anybody's girl." Clark wanted to keep this as low key as possible. He was thankful that he and Barry were the only ones in the break room at the moment -- he certainly didn't want to make Lois the object of office gossip. CHAPTER NINE Barry wasn't satisfied with that explanation. "That's not good enough. You went behind my back, Benedict Arnold! I guess the two of you had a good laugh about me didn't you?" Clark started to protest, but Barry cut him off. "Well, I hope it was worth it. There is *one* thing I'd really like to know, since I'm not likely to find out for myself now. Was she good, Clark? I'll bet she was. A Metropolis girl. Quite a feather in your cap, huh?" He thrust his chin forward and raised an accusing finger. "You know what you need -- ?" Barry abruptly stopped his ranting and took an involuntary step backwards. Before him stood a Clark Kent he didn't know; taller, more imposing, with angry eyes flashing. "You know, Barry, I'd never realized until now what a truly nasty mind you've got." Clark folded his arms in front of his chest, as much to keep his hands off Barry as anything else. He took one step forward, pinned Barry with a furious glare and spoke each word clearly and menacingly, "I'm going to say this just once more. We talked. We had dinner. I took her home. The young woman to whom you are referring is a lady, and if I hear even *one* rumor to the contrary I'm going to come looking for you. Under the circumstances I think it would be wise for you to practice a little discretion." Clark paused, but didn't lessen his glare. "I'm sorry, Clark, really. I'm sorry." Clark watched Barry scutter away and then headed for his own office. Shaking with anger, he sat at his desk and put his head in his hands. It had been a long time since he'd been that furious with anyone. Conscious of the responsibility which came with his awesome strength, he usually made it a point to keep himself under tight control. When Barry had made those disgusting innuendoes about Lois, however, he couldn't help it -- he'd had to defend her. He was still trying to calm down when his cup of coffee suddenly appeared on his desk. He looked up. "I noticed you left this behind." Clark smiled self-consciously at the middle-aged staffer who'd just come into his office. "Thanks, Doris." "I want you to know I wasn't eavesdropping. My desk is just the one closest to the break room and your voices *were* rather loud." "I'm sorry you had to hear all that." "I'm not." She smiled at Clark, then said understandingly, "Barry *is* a jerk, you know." Still suffering from the aftereffects of his anger, Clark laughed rather shakily. Doris turned to leave. "Don't let him get to you, okay?" She was rewarded by a slight smile. "I'll try not to." "That's good." She left his office, heading for her own desk and thinking, She's a lucky girl ... whoever she is. * * * Lois wasn't feeling very lucky. The morning had started out horrible and hadn't gotten any better. After Clark had left the hotel, she'd stood in the lobby for several minutes trying to decide what to do. She wanted to be alone so she could think, and her first impulse had been to return to her room, but that was out of the question since Diane was there. She wandered around for a while looking for some place quiet, but the hotel was already awake for the day and there were people everywhere she went. Finally, in desperation, she found the indoor pool. No one was there and she sank thankfully into one of the deck chairs feeling completely drained. What had she done? Had she done the right thing? Yes, she sighed. I do. She put her head against the back of the chair. Then why do I feel so miserable right now? She sat there for a long time, thinking about the events of the morning; comparing the "evidence" she had against Clark to the impressions she'd received about him the night before. Things just weren't adding up. She was trying very hard to make things add up, but it was quiet in the pool area and the air was warm, and she was so tired. The harder she tried to think, the fuzzier her thoughts got. Her head drooped to the side, and she slept. She was awakened by a big splash. Some kids were playing in the pool and from the looks of things they'd been there quite a while. A couple of women in dry bathing suits and salon-styled hair were sitting in chairs at the other end of the pool, keeping an eye on their offspring while they talked. Lois looked at her watch and was surprised to see that it was after nine -- it felt as though she'd just sat down. Despite the sleep she'd gotten, she didn't feel rested. Strangely enough she'd been dreaming of Clark just before she woke up. He'd been trying to reach her, but each time he moved, a marble column would appear out of nowhere and block his progress. She remembered getting brief glimpses of him from time to time just before the columns would hide him from her again, and each time she saw him he looked more and more worried. He'd been calling her name and asking, "Was it something I said? Was it something I did?" Am I going crazy? she asked herself, and for a change her cocky inner voice had no answer. Well, I can't hide in here all day, she thought, so she made herself get up and leave the pool area. She eventually found her way to the elevators and had just decided she might as well go to her room when she heard Diane calling her name. "Hey, Lois! There you are." Diane came running up to her. "Aren't you going to the seminar?" Seminar? Oh, that's right. I'm supposed to go to a seminar at ten. "Y-yes, I'll be there. I'm on my way to change clothes now." "Yeah, I noticed you were in your skulking outfit," Diane said after running a casual eye over Lois's jeans and pullover top. "Anyway, I'm glad I caught up with you. Do you have any plans for this afternoon? I'm thinking of going shopping between the luncheon and the 3 o'clock session. Do you want to come along?" "No, but thanks anyway." "Okay, no problem. I just thought I'd ask. See ya." Diane breezed away, looking more cheerful (Lois decided) than any person had a right to. Lois was turning towards the elevators once again when Diane's voice called her back. "Lois! I almost forgot. There was a note for you at the front desk. Here you are." Diane thrust Clark's note into Lois's unwilling hand. Feeling as disconcerted as she did about him, she'd have sooner touched a snake. Holding it by one edge, she looked at it in the elevator. "Lois Lane" was all he'd written on the envelope. It didn't reveal much ... except that he had nice handwriting. Well, she told herself sternly, there's no point in reading it now. Even if she'd been wrong about him, she couldn't change what she'd done. It was better this way. Really. As soon as she got to her suite, she threw the note into a wastebasket, then went to pick out something to wear. That took care of Mr. Clark Kent -- now he was truly out of her life. She was putting on a slip when an image of a nosey maid finding and reading Clark's note flashed into her mind. That would never do. She hurried into the sitting room to retrieve the blasted thing. Not knowing what to do with it, she tossed it onto her bed and went back to dressing. While she was buttoning her blouse, she could see the note reflected in the mirror -- Clark's handwriting an unpleasant reminder of their meeting that morning. Impatiently she walked over to the bed and turned the envelope face down. There, that's better. Except it really wasn't. Even face down, the envelope reminded her of him. It really had been sweet of him to take the time to write to her. In fact, he'd been so sweet last night and so much fun. What a dancer he was ... what a kisser he was ... and that wonderful smile ... She glanced at her reflection and was surprised to see a tender expression on her face. Oh, this is ridiculous! She stalked over to the bed, grabbed the envelope and slapped it firmly on the dresser, defying herself to discover *any* possible associations there. She looked at her watch again. Yikes! She'd better hurry if she wanted to grab a quick bite before the session started. With no further interruptions, she finished dressing quickly. Looking around one last time before heading downstairs, she spied the note. She certainly didn't want Diane to find it, so she scooped it up, tossed it into a drawer and headed for the door. She had her hand on the doorknob when she realized she'd put his note in her underwear drawer! She hurried back to the bedroom and pulled it out again, looking around for a place to put the dratted thing. Finally, in exasperation, she folded it in half and stuffed it into a section of her purse. She'd decide what to do with it later. * * * Clark was sitting at his computer, phone propped up to his ear by his shoulder. He'd been trying to get through to a certain City Councilman, but had been put on "infinity hold" instead, so he'd decided to do a bit of editing while he waited. Joel came into his office, dropped off some papers for him to look over, and stayed to chat for a minute. He and his wife, Sylvia, were expecting their first child in three months and he was delightedly telling Clark all about how strongly the baby was kicking now, when the Councilman's secretary came back on the line. Joel smiled in understanding at Clark's hand gestures, and left. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kent, but Councilman Tulley can't see you today. He wanted to know if you would be available tomorrow morning." Yes, Clark said, that would be fine. Ten a.m.? "Yes, sir. I'll make a note of it. Thank you for calling." A note. Clark hung up the phone, feeling stunned. Good lord! I left a note for Lois! He could feel himself turning pale at the thought. Then, remembering what he'd written, he felt a flush spread over his whole body. * * * Lois sat idly watching the people as they strolled or hurried by her table. She'd finally walked out of the "Modern Women in Yesterday's Journalism" seminar she'd been attending when it had became apparent that she hadn't heard one word in the last ten. She couldn't remember ever feeling this confused about anything, nor could she remember the last time she'd felt this sorry for herself. She just couldn't seem to make up her mind, an annoying state of affairs for someone who was normally very decisive. Not liking this feeling, but not entirely sure how to counter it, she'd wandered out of the convention center and into the hotel with no particular goal in mind. The "Paddlewheel Restaurant," one of three in the hotel, and the one nearest the convention center's entrance, had French cafe-looking tables and chairs set up in the area just outside the restaurant proper. Beyond that, the tower containing the rooms and elevators rose, but above it, skylights let in the midday sun. With trees planted in large containers and spaced among the tables, there was a hint of a sidewalk cafe. Thinking that this seemed like a nice compromise between the bustle of the restaurant and the loneliness of her room, she'd found an empty table near one of the potted trees and sat down. As Lois Lane, award-winning journalist, she was used to dealing with facts. Facts were things you could track down, dig up, hold up to the light, make people face, and then expose in newspaper articles. Most of what she had to work with now, however, were emotions. It was frustrating to try and follow a logical train of thought from fact A, through facts B and C and suddenly end up at emotion K or S or Y. Why was this happening to her? Why was it that each time she'd nearly argued herself into believing Clark was guilty as charged, would she suddenly be remembering the way he laughed, or how his arms had felt when he'd ... Darn you, Clark Kent. Why won't you get out of my head? A waitress came up and Lois ordered a soda from her. It was only a little after 11, so things weren't really busy yet. A few other people were sitting at tables near her, but the noise of their conversations was dissipated by the height of the ceiling, making it relatively quiet for such a public place. Sipping on her soda, she idly watched the various comings and goings, but without really taking in anything. From where she sat she had a good view of a portion of the lobby, two of the elevators, as well as part of the restaurant and bar. A couple of TVs were playing in the bar, but since she couldn't hear the sound from where she sat, she paid them scant attention. The waitress returned, giving Lois a chance to order a sandwich -- she'd decided she might as well have some lunch. A group of three very happy conventioneers rolled past her on their way to the bar. She watched them without much interest, her eyes drifting from them to one of the TVs. The news was on and something on the screen caught her eye. She sat up with a start. CHAPTER TEN The newscaster was comparing the Senate's version of the budget against the House's, using the standard pro & con format. That's what she should do, she thought. Get it all down on paper! If she hadn't been feeling so sorry for herself, she might have thought of it sooner. She snatched up her purse/briefcase, which doubled as her office away from the office. Finding her notepad was easy, but it took a little longer to put her hands on her pen; she must have neglected to replace it in its holder the last time she'd used it. It wasn't until she'd removed her camera, binoculars, wallet, scanner and datebook, that she spotted her pen. Once she'd replaced everything in her bag, she was ready to weigh the pros and cons of the "evidence" against Mr. Kent. The waitress came with her lunch, but she ignored it, being totally engrossed with her list. With everything down on paper, the list of knowns about Clark's supposed "crime" was woefully short, and she had to face the fact that she'd tried and convicted him on circumstantial evidence. So sure had her inner self been that he'd eventually be found wanting that she'd latched onto the very first hint of wrongdoing and built up a whole case around it. How could she have done that? And what could she do about it now? Well, he probably wouldn't want to have anything more to do with her, but she at least owed him an explanation and an apology. "Good afternoon, Lois." Lois looked up in surprise. She hadn't seen Alice's approach. "Do you mind if I join you? I've been out shopping, my feet are killing me, and all the tables are full." Lois looked around her and was surprised to see that the lunch crowd had arrived while she'd been otherwise occupied. She also realized her notes were still on the table. "No, of course I don't mind," she said as she hurriedly put her notepad and pen away in her purse. Alice sank gratefully into a chair, placing her shopping bags on the floor next to her. "Ahhh. That's better." She smiled at the younger woman. "I've been picking up a few things for the boys. Perry will have a fit because we'll most likely need to buy another suitcase to put this stuff in, but I couldn't pass up these bargains. You just can't find things like these for such low prices in Metropolis." Lois smiled back, relieved that Alice didn't seem to have noticed her scribblings. Alice looked around, but all the service people were tied up at the moment. "Looks like I've picked a busy time." She turned back to Lois. "Well, how was the session this morning?" "Good. It was good." At least ... she guessed it had been good. Alice smiled serenely. "Well, that's nice," she said, before turning to look at the people sitting around them. A booming voice attracted her attention, as well as Lois's. "Bill's here, I see. He and Perry were to attend the same meeting this morning, so I guess Perry can't be far behind." Alice looked over at Lois again briefly, then nodded her head in "Wild Bill's" direction. "People can be fascinating, don't you agree? Take Bill, for instance. To look at him and listen to him you'd think he's been riding the range for years, wouldn't you?" Lois nodded, not quite sure where this conversation was going. "As far as I know, though, he's never actually been on a horse, or a ranch for that matter. He's really Albert Mianulli from Paramus." Lois looked blank. "New Jersey." Oh. "You mean, he's *not* from Texas?" "Good lord, no. He was the youngest and smallest of ten children, often left out of things and lonely. At some point he discovered cowboy stories and, well ..." Lois looked over at "Wild Bill" again. "He sure *sounds* like he's from Texas." "Well, Bill works harder at being a Texan than any real Texan I know." Alice paused for a moment. "You know, Lois, some people, like Bill, hide who they truly are. Others, like my Perry, are up front with you right from the start. They may be complex people and can take a lifetime to get to know deeply and truly, but they do not hide behind a facade -- you know where you are with them. Sometimes, Lois, what you see is truly what you get." Lois was giving Alice her full attention. "How do you know when you've met such a person?" Alice looked into Lois's troubled young face, and said kindly, but firmly, "You just do." Lois met Alice's gaze a while longer, then began gathering her things together. "Alice, I just remembered that I have an appointment. Would you excuse me?" With her voice full of amusement, Alice asked, "What about your lunch?" "I'm not hungry after all. I haven't touched it. W- would you like it? It's yours, if you want it. I have to go." Lois threw ten dollars on the table and hurried away, leaving a very amused, but very satisfied, Alice behind. * * * Clark ran a hand through his hair. Things were finally beginning to calm down. He'd gotten those figures to J.D. on time, Barry had come by to apologize again, and Clark had actually had one whole 15-minute-period when he hadn't thought of Lois ... except once or twice. Now he was working on a rough draft of a report. He paused in his typing long enough to remove his glasses and rub his eyes, then, leaning back in his chair he turned to look out the window. Big, puffy clouds were skittering across the spring sky, and the temptation to be up there with them was almost overwhelming. On days like this, it was awfully hard not to just take off for a spin. Unfortunately, today the clouds were going to have to stay where they were -- and so was he. With one last wistful glance outside, he returned to the work at hand. The phone rang, and as soon as he'd said, "Clark Kent," he knew something was wrong because his amplified hearing could pick up the elevated heartbeat of the caller. It was Maggie, a very young cub-reporter, who'd been out on what should have been a routine assignment, but who'd had the misfortune to have been a witness to a violent crime. She was trying to be professional and put a brave face on the whole situation, but he could tell she was very upset. The police needed her to make a statement, and she felt all alone, and scared. Clark spent several minutes reassuring her and helping her to calm down, letting her know he had confidence in her, helping her to see that she could handle this. He offered to send Joel over to keep her company, and heard Maggie's sigh of relief at the promise of reinforcements. He said good-bye, hung up the phone and turned. Lois was there. Lois watched Clark's face change as he took in the fact that she was there. There was surprise, which was understandable; then joy, which thrilled her; then a wariness as he remembered their last encounter, which made her feel guilty. At the same time, he'd moved as if to come around the desk to meet her, changed his mind, glanced down at his computer, then put his hands in his pockets and looked at her again. He seemed to be searching for something to say, but when he did speak all he was able to come up with was a quiet, uncertain, "Hi." A single word, but in it she heard all he hadn't said, such as, "Why are you here?" At least he hadn't ordered her to get lost. "Hi. Are ... you ... busy?" He glanced down at his desk and shrugged his shoulders. "Kinda." She took a deep breath and tried to control the butterflies in her stomach. "Well, I was hoping we could talk. I ... I owe you an explanation -- " "That isn't neces -- " "Yes. It is. Please, Clark. It won't take long, I promise." How could he refuse her? "All right." He motioned towards his desk. "I have to take care of a couple of things first, though. Why don't you have a seat? I'll be right back." She nodded and watched as he picked up, and then replaced, two phone-message-sized pieces of paper. He next grabbed a file folder and was halfway to the door with it, when he appeared to remember something. Hurrying over to his printer, he gathered some printouts and took a moment or two to arrange them where they belonged in the folder. That done, he took a couple of steps toward the door, turned to retrieve the notes he'd first had his hands on and with all that, finally, made it through the door, calling for someone named Joel. She was too nervous to sit, so she wandered around his little office, looking at the pictures and other artifacts which adorned his walls and desk. There was an ethnic mask, a piece of Oriental calligraphy, and a couple of small statues - - one looked as if it was carved out of wood, the other one from stone -- souvenirs of a world traveler. She also saw photographs of places which looked exotic and remote, beautiful and dangerous. Was one of these Borneo, or Nigeria? Her wanderings took her to his desk, and there she saw a picture of an older couple standing outdoors with some kind of building in the background. She had picked it up and was studying their faces when she felt a presence behind her. "My parents." "They look like nice people." "They are. The world's best parents. I'm very, very lucky." He took the picture from her gently and, as he looked down at his parents' smiling faces, she studied his. There was so much love in his voice when he spoke of them. Oh, how she wished she could feel that way about her own parents! She watched him replace the photo on his desk, then she glanced around the office once more before turning back to Clark. He was just as she'd remembered him from the night before -- gentle and honest. Gone was her vision of Clark as a conniving schemer. That man didn't exist. Alice had been right; sometimes what you see *is* what you get. He was smiling down at her. Not the friendly, open smile from the night before, but, it was a start, she thought. "I can't promise we won't be interrupted, but I've asked them to try to hold my calls ..." He gestured towards a chair and then half sat, half leaned against his desk, his hands at his sides. She took the chair he'd indicated, setting her bag on the floor next to her and thinking very hard about how to say all this. Maybe the simple, direct approach would be best. She folded her hands in her lap and raised her face to his. "I owe you an apology, Clark. The reason I acted the way I did this morning was because I ... I thought you were trying to ... play a trick on me." He looked slightly stunned. "Why would you think that?" "Well, I ... It's really silly but ... You see, I thought ... and Diane said ... but I know now ... That is, I'm sure that you ..." She stopped and tried to get a hold of herself. "I'm sorry. I seem to be babbling." He smiled reassuringly and said, "That's okay." Then, leaning forward, he laid a hand gently over hers where they were clenched together in her lap. She took his hand and squeezed it gratefully, stood up and walked towards the window. He stood, too, but stayed by the desk, watching her every move, every gesture. More composed now, Lois turned and tried again. "Last night a guy hit on me and I ... I kind of annihilated him." She paused, but all she could see on his face was a puzzled, if polite, interest. "Later on, you were seen talking with him and ... and then you rescued Alice ..." If this was sounding half as stupid as she thought it was, he was never going to believe her. "We thought -- " No! I shouldn't drag Diane into this. "*I* thought you were in collusion with that other guy to trick me, embarrass me, because I had embarrassed him. I realized a while ago that I was wrong about you, and ... I'm sorry." He thought about what she'd just said. "So *that's* why you broke our date this morning?" She nodded. He shook his head in bewilderment. "But why didn't you just ask me about it? I could have told you -- " He stopped as the obvious answer to that question popped into his head. If she'd thought him capable of trickery, she'd have certainly thought him capable of lying. "Nevermind," he said, smiling a little uncomfortably. "I think I know." CHAPTER ELEVEN There was an awkward silence as they looked at one another, each trying to think of something to say. Finally, Clark gave a short, rather unhappy laugh. "Looks like I made a worse first impression than I'd thought." As an attempt to lighten the moment it was a dismal failure because Lois could see the hurt in his eyes. "No, Clark, that's not true. You made a great first impression, and I had a wonderful time last night -- probably the best time I've ever had with anyone. It's just that ... well, I've been disappointed so many times before, I guess I expect it to happen now." He still looked troubled and she