Recognition: The Only Way by C.C. Malo Rated PG-13 Submitted June 1999 notes: This story is the revised version of the story I posted on the LOISCLA Fanfic Listserve in April. It begins where R: Justice finished, the next day in fact, although it's not necessary to have read that story to follow this one. The first Recognition story was set just after TOP COPY and I've tried to keep with the show's continuity to that point although I've taken some of the later ideas and shuffled the deck a little. The usual disclaimers about DC Comics and Warner Brothers apply. I'm very grateful to Jeanne and Jenni for all their help and support with this story, to Chris M for her encouragement, and also to suggestions from Pat, Sandy, Charlotte, Peggy, & Ray. Feedback is always welcome. RECOGNITION: The Only Way by C.C. Malo Lois Lane was a young woman with brains, guts, and a dash of lower order street smarts which she had acquired through one tumultuous year spent in that halfway institution known as internship and by six incredible years at the Daily Planet. These experiences and talents had resulted in award winning journalistic success and personal life disaster. She believed that both these states of being were preordained. Now she was about to discover if that equation could be changed and if lower order smarts could be upgraded to higher order wisdom. Finding this out was not a deliberate goal on her part but one which she found herself stumbling toward as her relationship with Clark Kent, her partner at the Daily Planet, progressed beyond the stage where, in her experience, the guy in question usually disappeared into the night in full flight from any kind of commitment. Unless, of course, he was a master criminal. Not that she'd wanted any commitment. However, this time, much to her surprise, the guy in question had lobbed the ball back into her court, then followed it with a declaration of love and a leap across the net. A very dramatic leap, glasses removed and cape billowing in the breeze. Followed by a proposal. But what Lois wanted to do was to rally the ball for a while. To wallow in the euphoria of the flow of the game. To get to judge her opponent's style. To decide if he was, in fact, the opponent or whether the rules of the game could be discarded in favor of something new which they created together. After all, it had been scarcely four weeks since they had taken their first tentative steps toward each other, hardly enough time to make a decision as far reaching as changing the rules of the game. Lois reflected on all this as she chained, locked, and bolted her door late Sunday evening after returning with the man in question from a weekend in Legatteville, where her aunt and uncle lived. Leaning against the door for a second, she smiled, reliving again the strength of his arms around her and the bliss of his mouth on hers as he had kissed her a moment ago. She had pulled away to look at him, and instantly that spark had been there in his eyes and probably in her eyes, too, for all she knew. It had definitely flared in her body, telling her she'd better get in her apartment pretty quickly or he would be in her bedroom before either of them could take a next breath. That would be against the rules; she did not want to make the game any more complicated than it already was. Besides, changing that rule would give him the advantage. She sighed and smiled, a tired contentment sweeping over her body and propelling her towards sleep. Picking up her bag, she carried it into the bedroom. Clark had offered to do that for her, but she had given him a look that told him she was on to his strategy. He'd countered with his own look of wide eyed innocence, chastely kissed her on the cheek, and then, quickly, nipped the lobe of her ear. Turning, he walked away, leaving her standing in front of her closed apartment door. She wasn't sure if she was pleased or not. As she unzipped her bag, she thought about the weekend they'd just spent at Jenny and Matt's wedding. The whole weekend had been great. They'd both enjoyed staying with her aunt and uncle; Clark seemed to fit in as though he were one of the family, and she had appreciated the restraint that kept both her relatives from asking about her relationship with Clark. Jenny had been a radiant bride while Matt's usual reserve had been replaced with a grinning ebullience. Surprisingly, Lois had been touched by the ceremony, listening to the words with an attention that she had never given them before. At past weddings, she listened in cynical silence, deconstructing the vows as the ceremony progressed. Not this time. This time she had got caught up in the words, thinking how well they suited what she saw reflected in the faces of Jenny and Matt. Clark had been aware, too. At one point in the ceremony, he had reached for her hand and, as her fingers had curled around his, their eyes had briefly met. Well, all women were suckers for romance, she told herself later as she tried to shake the sentimental mood that the wedding had slipped over her mind and her heart. Conditioned response, she told herself sternly. Nothing was more romantic than a wedding: all white lace and satin and men in tuxedos. The woman would never look more beautiful and the man, never more perfect. Her parents had had a big wedding. There was that horrible picture of them dancing together after the ceremony, looking like they were the only two people in the world. She pulled the dress she'd worn to the wedding out of her bag and carefully hung it up, making sure that the silk fell straight. As she did, she remembered Clark's face when he had first seen her in it. Stunned. She smiled, seeing again the light in his brown eyes as he'd looked at her. They'd had a good time at the reception, both with each other and with the other guests. Uncharacteristically, she'd flirted with a few men just for the fun of it and was hopeful that she now had added a less serious dimension to her reputation in Legatteville. She'd flirted with Clark, too. No risk in such a large crowd. He'd known what she was doing, and had teased and flirted back, no sign of jealousy when she danced with other men in the room. That was Mary Cardinal's fault. Clark had gloated over her prophecy for the rest of the evening although, thankfully, he'd let it go after that. Lois's logical mind was still a little spooked by Mary. As she climbed into bed, Lois wondered what Clark was doing at that moment. Walking home? More likely, he'd flown and was now patrolling the city. Snuggling into her covers, she smiled dreamily, "Good night, Clark." * * * Clark had chosen to walk home after he left Lois, wanting to prolong the sense of euphoria that the weekend had given him. Tonight, he felt at peace with the world, now that everything he'd ever wanted was so close to being his that it might as well be. Job, friends, girl. Woman. The most incredible woman in the world. He was happy, he was in love, and he grinned. The weekend had been great. It had been good to stay with Lois's aunt and uncle, whom he liked; a weekend with a happily married couple, and in her own family, too, had to make Lois think, remind her that not all marriages were the disasters which her parents' had been. And she'd been so soft during the ceremony itself. At one point, he'd felt like it could have been their wedding and, when she looked at him, he'd thought maybe she had felt the same way. He smiled as he recalled her flirting at the reception, later. He'd noticed, but this time he'd experienced none of that stabbing pain he'd felt whenever he'd seen or thought of her with Lex Luthor. Mary Cardinal's prophecy about the children he and Lois would have had been too much on his mind for that. Although Lois did not, he took Mary seriously, and so, at times, during the rest of the evening he'd savored the old woman's prediction, rolled it around in his mind, and taken the occasional look at the future mother of his children. Yep, everything he'd ever wanted. He grinned again, his mind meandering around random thoughts about Lois, about his relationship with her, about the one incredible time they'd made love (this thought recurred frequently), about their future. Next weekend, he hoped to take her to Smallville where he was sure she couldn't help but be seduced by the burgeoning beauty of the countryside in spring. He knew she liked his parents which was one more argument in his favor in his campaign to convince her to marry him. Be good to get her on his turf, too, where she wouldn't be distracted by late breaking stories and hot leads. He'd promised to give her time, but he wasn't above a little stacking of the deck. Absorbed by these thoughts, Clark took little notice of the walk back to his apartment. He did not notice the freshness of the spring night air, or those people with whom he momentarily shared the pavement, or the small convenience stores and cafes which were still open for business late that Sunday night. Nor did he notice the man who had been following him since he'd left Lois's apartment building. The man knew what he was doing; both his experience and natural physical grace equipped him with the skills to follow someone stealthily while his nondescript looks attracted little attention. As he trailed along behind his quarry, the man wondered if Kent were high; he didn't seem to be too aware of what was going on around him. At one point, he crossed the road, oblivious of the two cars which swerved to avoid hitting him and, then, moments later he bumped into a teenage couple who had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to indulge in a little hormonal communication. The man was tempted to walk immediately behind Kent to see what would happen although he didn't do so. When they both finally arrived at Clinton Street, he slipped into the darkened doorway of an old apartment building and watched as Kent entered his own building. Shadowing the reporter for the last half hour had made the man less certain about a decision he hadn't been too sure about in the first place. Aware that Lane and Kent had been in Legatteville for the weekend, he had assumed that they would first return to Lane's apartment. He planned to approach Kent after he left the apartment. Then, some instinct made him hesitate. He had hoped that following the reporter would help him make up his mind since what he was doing was risky. He had to be absolutely certain that he could trust the reporter but now he wondered if Clark Kent were as reliable as what his reputation at the Daily Planet suggested. At any rate, it didn't seem like a good idea to talk to him tonight. Turning, he walked back toward the main intersection and then slipped into the subway station. * * * The first thing Lois Lane did Monday morning when she sat down at her desk at the Daily Planet was to check her voice mail. Actually, it was the second thing; the first thing had been her automatic glance at Clark's desk to see if he were there. Smiling wryly at the disappointment she felt at his absence, she picked up her phone to check her messages. One of them surprised her. Her father, Dr. Sam Lane, whom she hadn't seen in over a year had called to arrange lunch with her and Lucy. He suggested Wednesday. Immediately, Lois punched in her sister's number, ignoring the younger woman's sleepy voice as she answered the phone. "Lucy, are you going?" "Lois, it's just 7:30. What are you doing? It's still night time. Call me back later." "No, no, don't hang up. Sorry, Luce. I forgot you're on vacation this week." Lois's voice was contrite, but only for a moment. "So, are you going?" "Am I going where?" "To lunch, on Wednesday. With Dad?" "Oh, that." There was a pause at the other end of the line and then Lucy's voice was alert. "I haven't called back yet. I wanted to make sure you were going before I said yes. I'll go if you go." "OK... Well... I'll call him and say yes, then. I'll see you Wednesday, Luce. Go back to sleep." Lois hung up the phone and hesitated a moment, aware of the knot in her stomach as she thought of her father, remembering her last encounter with him over a year ago. She and Clark had uncovered a boxing scam which had pitted bionically strengthened fighters against normal opponents. Sam Lane, always eager for an opportunity to further his research in cybernetics, had been unwittingly caught up in this scheme. Anyway, after that, she had hoped that Sam Lane would remember he had a daughter and call, but he hadn't. Probably too busy working on those weird schemes to build an android. She was curious about his motive in calling her. Maybe, she thought, just maybe, he wanted to spend time with his daughters. Lois picked up her phone again and put a call through, both disappointed and relieved to get his answering machine. She left a message confirming that she and Lucy would accept his invitation. "Why so pensive, Lois?" Clark had just entered the newsroom and, noticing the distant look on Lois's face, had stopped in front of her desk. "Oh, nothing." Lois was mildly disgusted with her nervousness about seeing her father. Why did it still matter after all these years? "It's my father. He's asked Lucy and me to lunch." "Oh..." Clark's voice trailed off as he took note of the turbulent waters into which he had just plunged. "Well, that's great, isn't it?" Hands in his pockets, he watched in silence as she busied herself rearranging the papers on her desk, sorting them in neat piles, straightening the edges so the papers in each pile were in perfect alignment. Uh, huh, he thought, she was upset. "So, are you going?" She looked at him, her face belligerent. "We're going. We're going." "Lois, he's your dad," he said softly. "I guess so," Lois looked down at her papers again and reached for a few file folders which she labelled with methodical determination. It was while she was doing this that they were both approached by Perry White, editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet. "Mornin' you two. How was the wedding?" "Uh, fine, Perry." Lois sounded like she could scarcely remember while Clark's simultaneous and more enthusiastic "Great, chief," made the older man pause for a moment. "You all attended the same event, I trust?" When no answer was immediately forthcoming, Perry sighed and changed the subject. "Look, I want you both over at the court house. Just found out they've moved up the bail hearing for the two thugs who worked for Tony Gates." "On it, Chief." Relieved to have Perry's command to distract her, Lois grabbed her purse and strode towards the elevator. Clark followed her and, a short taxi ride later, during which Lois had talked exclusively about the Gates story, they were sitting in one of the dark panelled court rooms in the New Troy State Court House. The large room was crowded; the two defendants' connection with the wealthy Senator Tony Gates, who himself was facing serious charges ranging from bribery to manslaughter, had attracted reporters from across New Troy as well as out of state. Perry White hadn't been the only editor to find out about the change in schedule. As Lois and Clark were waiting for the judge to enter, an innocuous looking man of average height, slight build and indeterminate age slid onto the bench beside Clark. "Mr. Kent, can I talk to you for a moment? It's important." He was soft spoken yet his voice carried authority. Lois turned to Clark. "Go ahead, Clark. I'll fill you in on what happens here." "OK." Half rising, Clark turned to the man. "Let's go." The two stood up, their seats quickly taken by late arriving reporters. As soon as they were outside the court room, Clark turned to his companion. "What can I do for you Mr...?" he asked as the two made their way through a small cluster of chattering reporters who had been unable to get seats inside. Ignoring the invitation to introduce himself, the man continued walking, his soft soled shoes making no sound on the granite floor of the corridor, not speaking until they had turned a corner into a narrow deserted hall. "You're a friend of Superman's." The comment was a statement, not a question. "Yes." Clark's voice was cautious as he looked at the man curiously, sizing him up. He was shorter and slighter than Clark, casually dressed, a baseball cap covering his head. Hard to guess his age, somewhere around thirty, Clark figured. "Tell him that Bureau 39 still exists." "And why should Superman care about that?" "Mr. Kent, I think you know why." "I heard it was shut down last year, discredited after the Trask business." "The Bureau's kept a low profile, but it never completely closed down and it's still very interested in Superman. I think it's going to try again to get him." "Why should I believe you?" Clark kept his voice casual, masking his interest in what the man was saying. "I don't know your name or where you got your information from. There's always some nut out there who'd like to get Superman." "The people Jeff Anderson works for just got their budget increased. They're expanding their operations." Clark did not respond. He remembered Jeff and Brenda Anderson and the conversation with them about the threat posed by Superman when he and Lois, as part of their investigation of Alice Cardinal's murder, had been at their farm in Legatteville last month. He remembered, too, how he had seen a Bureau 39 communique on the computer screen in Jeff Anderson's living room. He also knew that one of Tony Gates's companies had produced a weapon that used kryptonite ammunition; it was not unreasonable to assume Bureau 39 had something to do with the development of that weapon. And, fleetingly, he remembered his fear, that he would be found out, and that he would lose everything. Finally, Clark spoke, "How do you know this?" "For some years I've been part of a government task force that investigates possible UFO sightings. Most of it's crank stuff or easily explained natural phenomena. Anyway, Anderson informed us of your presence in Legatteville last month. At first, because of the reported UFO observations in that area, and because of your connection with Superman, yours and Ms. Lane's that is, we thought there might be a special reason for your presence there." He gave a small dry laugh. "But sometimes, things are just coincidences. There was no evidence that we could find in Legatteville of actual UFO's and Ms. Lane was just there visiting family." "So no Superman connection," Clark said lightly as they descended the marble steps of the imposing staircase which led to the ground floor lobby of the court house. "Nothing." Then he continued, "In fact, there's more of a link with you, Mr. Kent, and with the inhabitants of Smallville. The military found a small UFO there about thirty years ago, and, of course there's the kryptonite that Bureau 39 found there. But you and Ms. Lane already know this. That the kryptonite was found in Smallville, of course, does suggest a tie to Superman. Still any connection with you and the rest of the town could be as coincidental as Ms. Lane's visit to her relatives." "As you say, Ms. Lane and I already know all of this. So why are you here?" "Because Bureau 39's gone beyond investigating UFO's and alien contact. It's no longer just searching for the unknown. There's still a handful of powerful people who think Superman is a danger to Earth." "Trask's people?" "Trask worked for them. His clumsiness was a temporary set back for them." "So what are they planning to do?" "I don't know. I'm not part of the inner group. This is something I overheard accidentally after a department review last Thursday." "So it could be nothing. Just wishful thinking by a bunch of fanatics." "Maybe." "Does the government still have the Smallville UFO?" Again, Clark tried to keep his tone casual but he desperately wanted to find his spaceship. There was so much about himself that he did not know, that he needed to understand. "Probably. They've rehoused their archives, top secret location." By now, the two had crossed the spacious marble rotunda of the court house to one of the narrow black doors located behind the central staircase. The man stopped to look directly at Clark. "Look, Mr. Kent, I don't like what I think is going on at the agency. I wouldn't have contacted you if I wasn't concerned." Clark watched him as he opened the door and left, wondering how seriously he should take this man. What, in fact, had he really said that Clark didn't already know? After all, Gates had that contract to build an anti-Superman gun for some reason. Superman had survived Trask before, and Luthor, and Ariana Carlin, and Intergang. It was just that those names were all associated with the past tense. Uneasy, Clark turned back toward the staircase to rejoin Lois Lane. As he slowly mounted the stairs, he pondered whether or not to tell her what had just happened. * * * As Clark and Lois left the court house a half hour later, Lois asked Clark the question that he'd been expecting. "So what did that guy want?" "Something about overzealous bureaucrats." He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think there's anything there. Disgruntled employee." With those words, he made his choice. She gave him a sidelong glance. "Holding out on me, Kent?" Taking her arm, he grinned at her, saying, in what he hoped was a teasing voice, "Now, would I do that?" She smiled. "Not anymore, I hope." * * * Clark kept his eyes open for anything unusual over the next couple of days, but everything seemed routine - no suspicious people following him, no unassuming men issuing warnings, only an increasingly hyper Lois Lane gearing up for lunch with her father by displacing her hostility to anyone who came within six feet of her. Clark had always thought she handled crises well; now he realized it depended on the definition of the word "crisis". Work related crisis meant "challenge", personal life crisis meant "the end of meaningful life as we know it." Thus it was that a half hour before she was to meet her father on Wednesday, Clark returned to the Planet newsroom to find her a total wreck. As he stepped out of the elevator, he cast a cautious look in her direction. Jimmy Olsen, who happened to be waiting for the elevator at that moment, noted the direction of Clark's glance, grinned and said, "Believe me, you don't want to go there, C.K. What's with Lois, anyway?" "Lunch with her father." Jimmy's grin faded and he looked across at Lois in sympathy, as he thought of his own father whom he hadn't seen in years. "Yeah, well, I guess I understand that." Clark looked at Jimmy in surprise, suddenly aware that there were still many things about his friend he didn't know and also grateful that lunch with Jonathan Kent was no big deal, something to be taken for granted. "How about you and I have lunch, Jimmy?" Jimmy's face lit up in a big grin. "How about tomorrow? I've got a hot lunch date with this girl I met in a chat room." Clark laughed, "A chat room date? Good luck!" He left Jimmy, walked over to Lois's desk and stood in front of it without speaking, his hands in his pockets, watching with fascination as she stuffed things into her large leather purse. Someday he was going to find out what she had in that thing; it always seemed that it could do double duty as a survival pack in a Y2K armageddon. "You think you're going to need that stapler?" he asked casually. "Maybe." She stopped and a small rueful smile briefly flickered across her face. "Maybe not." She sighed. "Do I look all right, Clark? Is my hair OK? What about this suit? I look competent, professional, right? Do you think brown is OK? Maybe I should have worn the navy blue, you know my power suit. I still have time to change." Clark walked around her desk to stand beside her. Placing both hands on her slender shoulders, he met her worried eyes. "You," he said with emphasis, "look great. Relax. Come on, I'll walk you to the elevator." * * * It didn't take Lois long to get to Antonio's. Glancing quickly across the potted plants and the white table cloths of the crowded restaurant, she saw that her father had not yet arrived. Just as the maitre d' was asking her if she had a reservation, she was joined by her sister Lucy, who looked a little too aggressive in a short black skirt and tight black top that plunged a couple of inches too low for the business crowd at Antonio's, at least for the feminine part of the business crowd. Oversize earrings that looked like they could pick up alien space signals added a nice finishing touch to her ensemble. Taking one look at her sister's outfit, Lois narrowed her brown eyes. "Out to make a little statement, Luce?" "Like you're not? You look like you moonlight selling mutual funds." The maitre d' interrupted, although he kept his eyes on Lucy Lane a little longer than necessary. "Uh, do you ladies, uh, have a reservation?" "Yes. Sam Lane," Lois said. "Ah, yes." He snapped to attention at the tone in Lois's voice. "Dr. Lane's not here yet, but if you'll follow me." They did and were seated in a back corner that gave them a good view of the room. Fifteen minutes later, they were still waiting for their father, and now their small talk turned nervous as both of them avoided voicing their anxiety that their father would not show. However, five minutes later, they calmed down as they spotted Sam Lane, tall and distinguished looking, chatting with the maitre d' for a moment before striding confidently towards their table. His smile was expansive and his voice richly resonant as he spoke, "Well, my two little girls." "Hi Daddy," both women piped simultaneously, both reverting to the childish appellation. Sam sat down, deftly flicking the white linen napkin across his lap. "Well, you girls are both looking good. Prettiest girls in the room. How've you been?" The conversation continued in this sort of banal and slightly stilted manner as the three participants tried to reestablish some sense of the intimacy which each probably felt should have been present at a family lunch. All three probably tried a little too hard, and so felt a sense of relief when the waiter brought their meals, a welcome distraction from their forced conversation. Lois thought wistfully of the times she'd eaten with Clark's parents, of the atmosphere of casual and understated affection, and of how she had almost immediately felt comfortable with them. Once the Lanes had begun to eat, they fell back into a safe pattern of conversation, talking about jobs, casual interests and the quality of the salad dressing. No threats, no painful memories, no emotional baggage. Lucy had just finished her exams and was about to graduate, both bits of information news to Sam Lane who hadn't been aware that Lucy had returned to school. Lois talked about work at the Daily Planet, but not about Clark, and Sam talked, with great enthusiasm, in between answering calls on his cell phone, about his new job with Biotech Networks where he was deeply involved in his continuing research on cybernetics, working on microchip implants that could control human behavior. He still had great hopes of developing the first "lifelike" android and hoped that these chips would give him a greater insight into the problems involved in recreating human intelligence. As she listened to her father talk, Lois thought, as she had once before, that they were Dr. Frankenstein's daughters. Well, he'd always wanted a son and now he was going to father Data. Lunch ended and the trio rose to leave, walking to the front door and then standing for an awkward moment on the pavement. Sam made a fuss of hailing a taxi for his daughters and then, as they were climbing in, his hearty demeanor diminished. Lois was surprised by the sadness in his eyes, and, impulsively she hugged him before she climbed into the waiting cab. "Thanks, Dad. It was good to see you." Again, she was surprised by the emotion in Sam Lane's voice as he bid his daughters good-bye. "Maybe we can do this again," he said. "It's been great seeing my little princesses." "It's been good to see you, too, Dad. Maybe you'd like to come to my graduation in June?" Lucy asked. "Sure thing, Lucy. I'll be there," Sam said as he closed the taxi door. As the cab pulled away, Lucy looked at her sister and let out a deep breath. "So ..." she said. "So ..." Lois replied. "Who said our family isn't fun?" * * * Superman hovered above the muddy debris of the land slide which had caused the cave-in of the Brazilian gold mine and did a quick scan before taking off. It looked like he had found all the miners trapped in the underground tunnels which had never been very safe in the first place. The mud slide had placed too much stress on rotted wooden support beams which collapsed without much resistance. He'd managed to get everyone out safely; this time there were no deaths, but he knew that his help had been only temporary. He knew the corporation that owned the mine would quickly rebuild, taking shortcuts that government officials would find expedient to overlook. The mine would soon be in operation again and people desperate for work would once more be toiling beneath the surface, their health undermined and their humanity diminished, risking their lives for the few dollars a day that was not quite enough to provide for their families. He should feel satisfied with what he had achieved here; he did feel satisfied. But he knew, too, that he'd be back, if not here, then to some similar disaster. Sometimes he felt like his actions were just stopgap measures, and he would never get at the root causes of the problems he saw, doomed forever to replay the same few scenarios. Sighing, he slowly flew upward toward the sun and drifted for a few moments, riding the air currents over the lush green canopy of dark rainforests, replenishing his spirit and finding again his optimism and faith in the ultimate beauty of the universe and the goodness of mankind. He dove lower, gliding and swerving among the fresh foliage of exotic trees, absorbing the sounds and the fresh smells of the dense growth. Spotting a small complacent group of monkeys, he flew even lower, landing in front of a mother, a baby clinging to her back, as she walked across the damp jungle floor. She stopped and he chuckled as both mother and child looked at him quizzically, their round black eyes wide, and he thought about bringing Lois here, wondering how she would react to all this dark grandeur. Both monkeys chattered at him, no doubt asking him what he was. However, since he wasn't completely sure about that one, he told them instead that he was Clark Kent from Metropolis. Then he shot upwards towards his home. When he got back to the Planet late that afternoon, he looked around for Lois but she wasn't there. Probably out on a story, he thought, as he sat down at his desk. He began to sort through his e-mail but he found his mind returning unwillingly to his conversation with the government agent and to his decision to withhold this information from Lois. He didn't want her to worry about any hypothetical threats to him, much less go charging off on a mission that would probably lead nowhere. More than anything he wanted to keep her safe, to protect her, a feeling that had intensified since their relationship had deepened. If, in fact, there was anything to what the man had said, then Clark would have to plan his reaction carefully. The government had tremendous resources; if it had decided that Superman presented a danger then he had to figure out how he could keep his parents and Lois safe. But first, he had to find out what exactly Bureau 39 was up to. Then he recalled the agent's reference to Jeff Anderson. Perhaps the Andersons were still in Legatteville. The Bureau had apparently decided there was nothing of interest there, but the couple might be still at the farm, winding down their operation. He pushed back from his desk, and a few seconds later he was in the air streaking towards Minnesota to the outskirts of the small town of Legatteville. Swooping low, he quickly scanned the old wooden farmhouse which the Andersons had lived in and found that it was once again empty, a 'for sale' sign neatly placed near the road. Landing, he spun quickly into jeans and sweater and made a more normal tour of inspection, circling around the house and peering in windows, using his x-ray vision to check for anything the Andersons might have overlooked. Wondering if he would find anything inside the house, he walked around to the back and forced the old door open. One of the many things he had learned from Lois Lane was that people are less careful about the security of the back entrance. He smiled as he thought of some of the things that he had learned from her. Entering the old farmhouse, he quickly discovered that the Andersons had been pretty thorough when they left. There was nothing at all. Disappointed, he left the house, hoping he could track down the Andersons, if that was, in fact, their real name, through the real estate agent in town. Doing that could prove tricky, however. Legatteville was a small town and, familiar with how small towns operated, Clark knew that even if he took care to avoid Lois's aunt and uncle they would find out he had been there. Communication networks in small towns were light years ahead of the internet; always had been. And once Lois's aunt knew, Lois would know. Clark sighed. Then a small pleased smile played across his lips; he could disguise himself. After all, he did have some experience in that line. Maybe he could use that fake beard again, the one he had used when he'd gone undercover in the Metro Club; the beard Lois had ridiculed. Still, beauty was not his goal here. Add some padding around his waist, baggy jeans, and a plaid flannel shirt with a baseball cap. Plus the old glasses. He could rent a pickup truck. Yeah, that should work. An hour later, Clark Kent, aka Fred Johnson, drove through the side streets of Legatteville, looking for the real estate office, slinking low in his seat for a moment when he had the bad luck to pass not too far from Lois's aunt who was out walking, immersed in conversation with a friend. Relieved at not being spotted, he pulled up in front of Legatteville Realty, peering cautiously around for anyone he might know. No one. Breathing a sigh of relief, he slipped out of the truck and furtively sidled into the small agency which was, thankfully, located several blocks away from the offices of the Legatteville Link, the newspaper run by Lois's aunt. He was greeted by Sandy Thulman, a well groomed, attractive woman of about forty whom he thought he might have met at the wedding last weekend. Groaning inwardly, he extended his hand and introduced himself. "What can I do for you, Mr. Johnson?" "I've been looking at that vacant farm up on the ridge about half an hour out of town. I'd like to talk to the owners." She walked back to her sleek, rosewood laminate desk and flipped through a black binder of listings, stopping when she came to the Andersons' place. "The vendor is Federal Trust in Minneapolis. I'll give them a call." Clark hadn't expected that the property would be listed with a third party. "I was hoping to talk to the owners directly -- get a feel for what problems they faced trying to make a go of it, before I decide to put an offer in." The woman smiled. "I'm not sure they gave it much of a go. City people," she said dismissively. "But I'll call Federal Trust and see what I can do for you." It took a few seconds before she contacted the right person. "Hi, this is Legatteville Realty . I have a prospective buyer for the Anderson property but he'd like to talk to them before he makes a decision." .... "Oh, I see. Can you give me a call back when you do?" ... "Thanks." She hung up and redirected her attention to Clark. "He's going to contact the Andersons and then he'll give me a call, but not likely before tomorrow. Where can I get in touch with you, Mr. Johnson?" "I'm on the road a lot. I'll call you tomorrow. My time's pretty flexible so I can meet them at their convenience." He rose. "Thanks, for your help, Mrs. Thulman." He headed back to the Daily Planet, regretfully giving up the red pickup truck. He kinda liked it. * * * By the time he got back, he was disappointed to see that Lois had gone for the day; however, aware that he'd spent little time that day doing the job which paid, Clark sat down at his desk and began to work. When he finally did get home, he picked up his phone to call her but then hesitated, unsure what he'd say when she asked him about where he'd been all afternoon. He hated the idea of deceiving her; he'd done too much of that in the past, hidden his feelings from her, hidden himself from her. But he wanted to be sure about what was going on before he involved her, if he involved her. Maybe there was nothing ominous in what was going on with Bureau 39. This guy the other morning had been going on overheard conversation, snatches of information which probably had been blown out of proportion, the way all rumors started. Both he and Lois had known for a few weeks now that Bureau 39 still existed. It was common knowledge that the government investigated all suspected UFO sightings; it had been doing so since the Roswell sighting decades ago. All this was the stuff of tabloid TV journalism, trash movies, and paranoid fringe groups. None of this was new. The Andersons were probably off somewhere else now, checking the bluffs of Montana for frail, big eyed, luminous beings. How many crackpots had come to him and Lois over the last couple of years with off the wall stories? He'd just let this one get to him for some reason. Maybe because things had been going so great with Lois and he didn't want anything to get in the way of that. Good thing he hadn't told her. He wondered how her lunch with her father had gone. Now there was a real threat to his future well being and happiness. He'd call her first thing in the morning and take her to breakfast. * * * The next morning he met Lois at her apartment, his spirits lifting as he met her laughing eyes. He submitted happily to an affectionate kiss, then stood back to wait for a second while she gathered her things together. As he watched her stuff a file folder of notes in her bag, he heard a call for help and, without speaking, he met her eyes, shrugging apologetically. She gave him a quick kiss and said she'd be at Grangers, a diner across from the Daily Planet. If he could make it, great; otherwise, she'd see him at the Planet. He took off, zooming toward a mugging outside a brownstone apartment building not far from Metropolis Park, and intervened just as two thugs were in the process of roughing up a woman jogger. Landing behind them, he reached out his arm, clamping his hand in an iron grip on the shoulder of the man nearest to him. Problem solved. A quick flight to the nearest precinct office and moments later he was entering the diner. Spotting Lois in the back corner, he grinned, raising his hand in greeting, and headed back to her booth, deftly sidestepping a waitress with an overloaded tray, and then slid onto the bench across from Lois. "Tie's a little crooked," she said by way of welcome. He touched the knot and adjusted it, aligning the colorful tie so that it hung immaculately down the centre of his dark grey shirt. "Meet with your approval now, Ms. Lane?" "Yes, you do," she said, her brown eyes warm with the pleasure she always felt whenever she saw him. She reached across the table to touch his large hand. "So what happened?" "Nothing much. Attempted mugging of a jogger over on the north east corner of Metropolis Park. Lois, you jog over there sometimes, don't you?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "Maybe you should rethink your route," he said as he picked up the menu. Lois rolled her eyes. "Clark, I've been jogging for years and I know this city pretty well. I keep my eyes open." "But what if I can't get there if something happens?" She responded seriously, "You're right, Clark. I'll lock myself in my apartment from now on." Then her voice softened as she touched his hand again. "It's sweet that you worry about me, Clark. And I worry about you, too." Clark shook his head slightly and a small bright smile briefly lit his eyes. "So it's a two way street, is it?" "Uh huh." The waiter interrupted, taking Clark's order and bringing Lois hers. "So what happened yesterday?" "No fair, I was going to ask you that. My stuff's pretty routine," he said lightly. "How was lunch?" Lois grimaced and pushed her dark hair back behind her ear. "Awkward." Clark looked at her inquiringly, rolling his right hand to indicate he'd like a little more information. "And...." Lois narrowed her eyes, "You're awfully nosy, Kent." "I'm a reporter, Lois," he said piously. "I like to get the details." "Ah, the details. Well..." she met his eyes and then shrugged her shoulders. "Do you know how long it's been since I've seen my father, Clark?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "Well, I'll tell you. I haven't seen him in over a year, not since that boxing story we worked on. Do you know that he didn't even call me about the wedding? He didn't even care that I was getting married. All I got was a regrets response to the invitation." "Well, you gotta admit he showed some judgment there," Clark said, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. Lois narrowed her eyes and shot him an exasperated look. "Clark, that's not the point. And do you know he didn't know that Lucy was about to graduate. It's even longer since he's seen *her*. And he kept taking these phone calls through lunch. You think he could have left his cell phone behind. I mean, doesn't he have voice mail? And he's still working on those crazy android schemes. And he had the nerve to ask if Mother was still drinking. Clark, she hasn't had a drink in five years." Lois was getting increasingly wound up as she finished. "No wonder Lucy's been so screwed up." Clark choked on his coffee as Lois said this but managed to murmur as she gave him a dirty look, "No wonder." Then he continued, "But still, Lois, he did call. Maybe this is a second chance to get to know your dad again." "Clark, some things are just not a good idea." She fixed him with a serious look of her dark eyes. "Do you know what your problem is?" "No. What?" "Your family is so normal. You're so normal." Her tone was accusing, as though "normal" were a major character flaw. Clark couldn't help it; he burst out in a surprised laugh, a joyful grin spreading across his face. Startled, Lois looked at him again, smiling as she realized what she had said. "Well... sort of normal." "Well... this sort of normal guy thinks maybe you might give your father a second chance." Remembering the look on her father's face as she and Lucy had got in the cab yesterday and her own emotional turmoil, Lois said, "Maybe." She was silent for a moment. "So what did happen yesterday? You were gone a long time." Clark shrugged, as he stirred his coffee. "The usual -- mine collapse in Brazil, a few small things after that." Lois looked at him appraisingly. There was something about his attitude that seemed a little too casual and his tone that was a little too nonchalant. She wondered for a moment if there was something he was not telling her. She was about to say something and then she stopped. He wouldn't do that; those days were in their past now as they worked towards establishing this new relationship between them. No more secrets. She was probably just projecting her feelings about her father onto Clark. But Clark wasn't her father; Clark wouldn't hold out on her. He wouldn't lie to her. * * * For Clark, the rest of the day was hectic. It seemed there were more than the usual number of minor accidents, muggings, and petty burglaries. The cry, "Help Superman!" interrupted him throughout the day, and he was beginning to wonder if Intergang was behind it all. The next day, however, he dismissed this idea when things returned to normal, making him think that it would be possible, after all, for him and Lois to visit Smallville on the weekend. He was looking forward to this. It would be the first time that he and Lois would visit his parents as a couple and he felt a quiet happiness at the thought. He had been looking forward to this for so long. He began to plan long walks in the moonlight. Maybe he would show her the hayloft in the barn. Before he left, though, he placed a call to Legatteville Realty. The Andersons were unavailable for a meeting; Federal Trust was the legal vendor of the farm. He wasn't too surprised; he suspected the farm had been bought with government dollars, Federal Trust acting as the middle man. * * * With a little help from Superman, Lois and Clark arrived in Smallville late Saturday evening to be met with good humored affection by Jonathan and Martha Kent. As Lois stood back and watched, Clark was enveloped in his father's burly bear hug and then Clark, in turn, hugged his mother. After a moment, Martha pushed her son away and took Lois's hands in hers, saying in a voice that left no doubt of her sincerity, "Lois, we're so glad you're here." Clark beamed as he watched Lois and his mother and father, noting the shy pleasure in Lois's voice as she responded inarticulately, "Me, too." An hour later, after some serious catching up on family and community gossip as well as life and times in the big city, the Kent household settled into quiet darkness. There had been a brief moment of awkwardness as Martha had obliquely suggested that the sleeping arrangements were flexible, and Clark had looked hopeful. Lois, however, had her rules, and she was once again ensconced in Clark's old bedroom while Clark bedded down in Martha's studio which had temporarily reverted to its former role as spare bedroom. Clark noted, as he slipped under the covers on the sofa bed in a room which had clearly been made up before their arrival, that his mother had not been too optimistic about her son's status that night. Still, the weekend had just begun, he thought with a smile, as he reached across to switch off the light. Sunday turned out to be a lazy, old fashioned kind of a day, its routine dictated long ago by the patterns of rural life. That the weather turned warmer than usual for the end of April added to Lois's bemused impression that Kansas was definitely not in the same universe as Metropolis. As she was going downstairs for breakfast Sunday morning, she picked up the welcoming smell of coffee and the murmured sounds of conversation, realizing with a twinge of urban guilt that she was the last one up. Jonathan and Clark had been outside for over an hour tending to the needs of the few animals the Kents kept on the farm. The Jersey cow, "Clarissa", was expected to deliver her calf at any moment and there was much talk about the upcoming event as the family breakfasted on eggs and ham, avoiding the incredibly nutritious granola that Martha had thoughtfully placed in the centre of the table. Remembering that Clark had promised to bring her to see the birth of a calf, Lois now understood why he had been so eager to visit this particular weekend. When he had suggested coming, she had resisted, arguing that they had been out of town last weekend, too, and who knows what story might develop in Metropolis while they were away. He had countered by saying that he was just trying to help her *get a life* before she got entirely sucked into the black hole of deadlines and hot leads, followed by hours of intensive research and the thrill of rewrites. To prove that she did so know how to have fun, she had agreed to come. Breakfast was followed by a visit to the barn where Clark tried to give her some idea of what running a farm involved and, of course, to introduce her to Clarissa. Lois tried in vain to suppress the smile that hovered across her lips at his enthusiasm for what he was about to show her. He was like a big kid. So she dutifully trekked out to the barn and then succumbed herself as Clark gently placed a small baby chick in her hands. She gasped in delight as she felt its warm fuzziness settle into her hands and then it peeped at her. Lois looked up at Clark, her dark eyes amazed. Finally, Clark introduced her to Clarissa, who cast Lois a baleful look, her bloated black and white body looking alarmingly full term. Lois's eyes widened and again she looked at Clark, wondering if they ought to be leaving Clarissa alone this morning. Clark laughed and said Clarissa wasn't going to be delivering anything this morning. Nothing was likely to happen while they were at church. Lois hadn't been at a regular church service since she was a child, except, of course, for a few weddings, a couple of funerals, and two Christenings-- always a respectful participant in the rituals of friends and family. She was not particularly religious and had never been comfortable with Lex's decision to have an elaborate Catholic wedding but had gone along with his wishes, part of the general daze she had been in at the time. She'd never regarded Clark as religious either, or Martha and Jonathan, for that matter. Religion had just not been part of her urban framework; Sunday was a day for her to recharge the body, and if her spirit was lifted as she jogged through Metropolis Park, then that was a bonus. However, now that she thought about it, she acknowledged Clark's spirituality; his book shelves alone offered evidence of that. But as Lois entered the small white clapboard church, its spire piercing the sunlight of the blue Kansas sky, she understood that for this community the church was about more than the observance of rites; it was also a bond between the people in the community, where once a week everyone had a chance to talk, however briefly, with their neighbors. In a farm community, with many people living at some distance from others but also needing to be able, in time of crisis, to count on help, this was important. And Lois felt herself smiling demurely, pleased to be introduced to these people who were the Kents' friends, not even minding the occasional attempt by well meaning matrons to find out what her and Clark's intentions were; although, she did balk when one of Clark's old high school buddies introduced her to his cousin as 'Clark's girl'. Clark thought it was funny, laughing about it as they slipped into the worn pew, polished by years of use, beside Martha and Jonathan. Lois liked the church. Built over a hundred years ago, its spare wooden interior bore testament to the scarce resources of the farm community that it served. Nevertheless, the contrast of dark oak pews against the stark white of the interior walls gave the church an elegance that both calmed and inspired the soul. The church had two large stained glass windows, each one placed on either side of the congregation, the red, blues, and yellows reflecting on the opposite wall when the sun shone through the glass. Then the service began, conducted by a middle aged preacher whose good common sense and dry sense of humor produced a sermon that Lois actually listened to. Not completely accepted, but listened to. And, of course, she loved the singing, although she was somewhat distracted by the sound of Clark's lusty, totally off key, so-called singing beside her. Once the service ended, Lois noticed that people did not just hop in the car and rush home. More socializing, a few words with the minister, much introducing of Lois who had met just a few people the only other time she had been in Smallville, and what Lois would call networking as people set up plans for the following week -- who needed a bit of help, gossip about bank rates and growing conditions, updates on lambing, calving, kids. Spring was a busy time for a farm community. Maisie, whom Lois had met on her first trip to Smallville, asked how her romance novel was going, and then Rachel Harris, Smallville's sheriff, spotted them and was immediately caught up in Clark's hug. Rachel had gained a bit of weight, not much, just around her waist and breasts. It looked good on her, Lois thought, turning Rachel's cheerful prettiness into beauty. Martha joined them and cast a knowing look at Rachel's middle, slyly asking if Rachel was planning on going public with her news at last. Rachel laughed and admitted her pregnancy was getting increasingly difficult to hide and so today she'd decided to quit trying. Lois looked at her in surprise; she'd had no idea. Clark was excited for Rachel, pleased by the news and sympathetic as she explained her reason for keeping it a secret. As Smallville's sheriff, she had worried that the town would take her less seriously in her job if she were pregnant. She was still concerned about this, but she had no choice. And she was very happy about her pregnancy although it had happened a little sooner than she had planned. Then she laughed, one of those laughs that's half snort, half chuckle; everything connected with Ben, her new husband, had happened a little faster than she expected. They'd met a little over a year ago and it had been love at first sight. Rachel pointed in Ben's direction and led Lois and Clark over to meet the genial freckle faced man who had swept her off her feet. She followed her introduction with the question, "So when are you and Clark here..?" Speechless, Lois had looked at Clark, who had replied with a grin, "I'm working on it, Rach." That awkward moment was followed by a brief encounter with Joe Stewart, one of Clark's friends from Smallville High although their chat was interrupted by a redheaded three year old who had charged from out of nowhere into Clark's knees. Laughing, Clark swooped down and hoisted the child, raising him high above his head while the child squealed in delight. "Jason Stewart, tackle for the Smallville Rams topples the quarterback of the Metropolis Tigers," Clark announced solemnly as he swung the boy back to the ground. Lois watched them, a lump rising in her throat as she noticed the joy Clark was taking in this brief encounter with his friend's laughing child. But then Superman had always been good with children. Was she? She looked at the small whirlwind in front of her with some trepidation. Unintentionally, Jonathan rescued her. He came up behind her and put his hand briefly on her shoulder, preparatory to herding both her and Clark back to the car. En route, he managed to disentangle Martha from a heated discussion on the merits or lack thereof of the Smallville City Council's environmental protection proposals, and then drove his family back to the farm. Like most people, Lois had some trouble with the rear seatbelt and Clark gave her a little help, their eyes meeting for a brief private moment as he cinched the buckle in place. Without speaking, she slipped her hand into his and leaned back against the seat, thinking about the morning's events, feeling the warmth and strength of Clark's hand as he held hers. During the afternoon, Clark gave Lois the grand tour of the farm. He hadn't really done that when she had been here before; they'd been too busy with Trask, and besides, her first foray into the countryside had been such a severe culture shock that he'd probably thought it best not to expose her to too much "outdoors" before she'd really grasped the concept that there was an "outdoors." But he figured she was ready now. She could tell the difference between a chicken and a cow, so she was ready for the next step. At least that's what he told her, his brown eyes teasing, as he pulled her against his hip and kissed her lightly. At that moment, she thought she was ready for anything he wanted to show her. As it turned out, he really did want to show her the farm. As they spent the afternoon rambling around the fields and the small patch of woods, Lois began to know more about what Clark's childhood had been like and what mattered to him. She thought she had understood him, and she did, but now she understood him more, and she was aware that she fell just a little bit more in love with him as he talked, and as he listened to her talk, as he teased her, and as he occasionally kissed her. The sun bathed them in its spring warmth and brightness and it all seemed so perfect. She had never felt so happy. He took her to his spots, those special places where he'd played or retreated as a child, sometimes with his mother and father, sometimes with a couple of friends, often by himself: the pond where he fished, the hill that gave him the best view of the countryside beyond the farm, and the treehouse where no one else could go, especially girls. He'd had a happy childhood, secure always in his parents' love, she thought, not for the first time, as she watched his eyes light up as he told her an improbable fishing story. But now, too, she became aware that, at times, he'd had a painful childhood, especially as he approached adolescence and his special powers had begun to develop. He'd been terrified, particularly at first, as he tried to keep these strange abilities secret from his parents, isolated and bewildered by what he didn't understand. But Martha and Jonathan had found out pretty quickly; he'd never been good at hiding things, especially from his mother. And they'd helped him to explore the changes that were occurring, helped him to understand and control these new powers, especially his extraordinary strength, and the terrifying sensory overload that x-ray vision and superhearing had first brought. Sometimes the results of his experimentation had been hilarious, like the time he'd accidentally frozen the milk from the few dairy cows that the Kents kept. But always in the background there had been that fear that someone would find out, that he would be taken away. He learned to be secretive, to keep that part of him hidden, to never be the best in sports, to avoid fights, to blend in. And always, in the dark recesses of his mind were the questions: who was he, what was he, why was he different? As Lois listened to him, her eyes luminous with sympathy, she touched his face, slowly tracing her fingers across his cheekbone and then along his upper lip. He kissed her fingertips and smiled at her. "Don't look so sad, Lois. It was pretty amazing, too. Racing the wind, and flying. Soaring like an eagle to touch the sky! The first time I flew, it was like I'd been given the world!" By this time they had wandered back towards the farmhouse. Just out of its sight, they came to a stop at the foot of the gigantic oak among whose solid branches Clark's old treehouse nestled securely, its sign now faded and hanging slightly askew. Looking up at it, Lois raised one eyebrow sardonically. "Fortress of Solitude?" She squinted and read the nearly invisible small print in the lower right corner of the sign. "No girls allowed." "Yeah. I had a strong sense of how the universe ought to work when I was eight. Come on, let's go up. There's something I want to show you." He put his strong hands around her waist. "It's time to change the rules. One girl allowed and no more solitude." Gently he lifted her, levitating them up to the entrance of the small hut and Lois peered inside. "Doorway seemed a little bigger last time I was here," Clark said as they ducked their heads to enter. Once inside, they straightened up and Clark took a couple of steps to reach for a small object, wrapped in a piece of old flannel, in the corner of the tiny space. Carefully, he removed the cover and then turned to stand in front of her, holding the small globe from his spaceship. "This is the globe I spoke about the night I told you," pausing, he smiled at her, remembering, "or you told me, about Superman. It's all I have of Krypton." His voice was husky with emotion as he continued, "Here." He placed it in her hands and she held it carefully, watching his face as he gave it to her. Their eyes met and Lois felt again that strong connection that had been there between them since the beginning as his large hands cupped hers so that they were standing, holding the globe between them. As they did, it began to pulse and then glow, rising slowly from their hands to hover just above their heads as it projected a hologram of two people in long robes standing close together in the treehouse. Wide eyed, Lois looked at Clark, and then at the two figures, one a woman with red gold hair and the other a man, not much older but prematurely white haired, his resemblance to Clark unmistakable. For the first time in her life, Lois was speechless. The woman spoke first. "Kal El, this is the fifth and last message that the globe will bring you." Lois and Clark heard the sharp cracks and low rumbles of explosions in the background while she spoke, her voice now faltering. "Each previous message has been triggered by you, Kal El, in response to your own unique emotional and biochemical print. This one is different. It has been triggered by you and by the woman who touches this globe with you. The globe has recorded her prints and will have activated this last message only if she is compatible with you and if your love for each other has bound your souls together." Then she smiled, her eyes joyful. "Now you have found your home." The chaotic blasts intensified as the man spoke, his voice fighting for control. "My son," his voice broke. "My son, we have given you hope and now you have found the one who completes you as you complete her. The two of you must give that love and hope to others." The two figures vanished. "No!" Clark's voice was anguished as he stretched his hand to touch the ghosts that had vanished into the twilight of his treehouse while Lois, still very quiet, looked at the sphere which had returned to her hands, mesmerized by what she had seen and heard. Carefully, she rewrapped the globe in its soft flannel and tucked it into the small box in the corner. She was acutely aware of Clark standing just inches behind her, feeling the depth of both his sadness and his elation. Turning to face him, she ran her hands up and down his arms, saying nothing, meeting the intensity in his dark eyes. Then they were holding each other, Clark's arms wrapped around her as though he would never let her go. They stood that way, saying nothing, until they were brought back to earth by the loud clear clanging of a bell. "What's that?" Lois sounded startled. Clark's eyes lit up but the laugh which followed was shaky. "I haven't heard that in a long time. It's Mom. That's how she used to call us in for dinner, me especially, when I got so involved in something that I lost track of time. We'd better go." He slipped out of the "Fortress of Solitude," hovering beside it as he stretched out his arms to her. "Coming, Ms Lane?" Her dark hair grazed by the leaves of an overhanging branch, Lois perched for a moment in the doorway of the treehouse before leaning forward to place her hands on his broad shoulders. Clark pulled her against him, kissing her tenderly as they drifted downward, both of them a little surprised to feel the earth beneath their feet. Hand in hand they walked slowly back to the farmhouse, talking now about the fifth message and also about the globe's other messages. Clark got in the last word, although it was too easy a victory, given Lois's still lingering awe of the globe. "Told you we belonged together." * * * During dinner, Clark informed Martha and Jonathan about the globe's fifth message which led to Lois hearing, for the first time, exactly how Martha and Jonathan had found Clark in Shuster's Field which in turn led to Jonathan's tales of how they had kept Clark's unusual origins secret. Lois mostly listened, observing Martha and Jonathan's excitement about the message and feeling relieved when they did not make a big deal about the "compatibility" part of it. Lois detected, too, a little wistfulness in Martha's voice as she spoke of Lara and Jor El and was touched as Clark covered Martha's hand with his own and said, "Mom, I couldn't have had better parents than you and Dad." Afterwards, Lois helped Martha clear up in the kitchen, chatting about the events of the day as they scraped plates and refrigerated leftovers, returning again to Lois's amazement at seeing the globe's projections of Lara and Jor El. Lois appreciated the older woman's restraint in not probing her for details about her relationship with Clark and, by the time they had finished, she felt that everything was very normal, after all, and that receiving a little message from a small space VCR was no big deal. Martha Kent was pretty amazing, Lois decided. When they'd finished, the two women returned to the living room. "Lois, I thought you might like to see the family photo albums." Lois flashed a big smile at the older woman, whose eyes were mischievous. "I definitely would!" Somehow, Clark had known this was coming but he was still appalled. "Mom, Lois doesn't want to see those old pictures. They're pretty boring." Lois grinned at him, "Clark, I can hardly wait to see them." Clark groaned. "Lois, I thought we'd go for a walk. It's a beautiful night." He waved his right hand in the general direction of the front door. Ignoring him, Lois exclaimed with obvious pleasure, "Martha, you've already got the albums out." She picked them up and carried them over to the sofa, arranging them on the low pine coffee table so she could open them easily. "Oh, no. Give me help." Clark raised his eyes heavenward. Jonathan chuckled. "Come on, son. Why don't you and I go out to the barn? That new baler's come. You can take a look at it." "Uh, thanks, Dad. But I think I'd better stay here and protect my reputation." Clark sat down on the sofa beside Lois, his face suspicious. Lois had already opened the first page of the album, which held a few pictures of Martha and Jonathan when they were young as well as their wedding picture. Lois asked Martha how Jonathan had proposed and got Jonathan's version with a couple of revisions added in by Martha as he told the story. Then Martha turned the page and Lois stared at the first photo, a picture of Martha holding a dark eyed baby wrapped in a midnight blue blanket. Lois turned to Clark and nudged him. "See, that's not so bad." "Umpf. It's gonna get worse." It did and it didn't. It depended on one's point of view, like the story of Jonathan's proposal. Lois and Martha giggled and sighed over the various stages in Clark's childhood and adolescence while Jonathan gave his son no help at all as he added his own anecdotes. He had Lois in stitches as he told her of Clark's attempts to grow a mustache when he was sixteen. There was even one picture as proof, as well as others of Clark with his parents, with relatives, with his friends, his team mates, and the 4H prize winning calf. With great curiosity, Lois looked at some shots of Clark with girlfriends: a couple with a girl named Lana, a pretty strawberry blonde whose hair reminded Lois of Lara's and about whom Lois did some not so subtle probing and, of course, one with Rachel on the night of the senior prom. Lois was touched to see that the final pages in the last album held pictures of her and Clark. It was with a very audible sigh of relief that Clark stood up when the final page was turned. There was still time for that short walk in the moonlight before the end of the evening so he reached out his hand and pulled Lois to her feet. Lois put on a jacket and then the two stepped out onto the wooden porch that stretched across the front of the small frame house. She stopped for a moment at the top of the steps to stretch her back and shoulders, tilting her head back to take a deep breath of the cool night air and to look up at the stars scattered across the black sky. "Clark, I'm really glad we came. It feels so good here. And tonight's so beautiful. It never gets this dark in the city." She walked down the few steps to the stone walk and turned around to tease him. "And your baby pictures had me on the edge of my seat." "Well, at least now you know the worst." "Yeah. You're a pretty decent guy who's part of a loving family. Shocking stuff. Just promise me you won't regrow that moustache." "Promise." He flashed her a quick smile. "So when do I get to see your family pictures? Now that *I've* been humiliated and embarrassed, it's only fair that I get to see them." "Not for awhile. Not ever, I hope. Clark, My mother would drive me nuts if we looked at those pictures." "In that case, I'll give Ellen a call and ask her if I can come over on my own some Sunday when you're *working*, Ms. Lane. Just her, me, and the family photos. Or I'll ask Lucy." "Clark Kent, you wouldn't dare." "Sure I would." She stopped walking and turned to face him, not sure what to say. She didn't want to look at those pictures; there were too many unhappy memories swirling around them, memories she had been trying to escape. Looking at the pictures with the Kents had been fun; the memories good, even when there had been pain, like the death of a grandparent or the tough times when drought had hit the farm or when Jonathan had been laid up for half a year. But those experiences were interwoven with a love that healed and strengthened the family. For Lois, those types of challenges had served only to unravel her family, leaving each part stranded and bereft. She put one hand on Clark's chest and said lightly. "So tell me more about Lana Lang." That question should get him off this topic of family photos and besides she wanted to know. Clark laughed at her and bent forward to kiss her briefly. "Jealous?" "Absolutely not! So were you serious about her?" "You are jealous." A small triumphant smirk spread across his face and he rocked back on his heels. Lois leveled a withering glance in his direction and so he stopped teasing. "I liked her." Lois leveled another look at him. Why did men never give you the information you wanted? "Liked..." Clark sighed, the resigned sound of a man submitting to the third degree >from the woman he loves. "OK. I didn't notice her much when I was a kid but then, in high school, I did." He shrugged his shoulders. "She was kinda hot looking as Jimmy would say and when you're sixteen you can get distracted by that." "So why did you break up with her?" "Lois, you aren't going to let this go, are you?" "Uh uh, too interesting. So why'd you break up with her?" "I don't think you could say we were ever really going together. We dated, but Lana dated other guys, too. The more I got to know her, the more I realized there wasn't much common ground between us. Anyway, she decided to go steady with someone else at the end of our senior year." "Were you broken hearted?" Clark laughed. "Lo--is. My pride was hurt. But I didn't feel anything much. I remember it made me doubt if I was capable of feeling that heavy kind of love the way some guys I knew did. I wondered if I was emotionally different in that way, just as I was physically different." His voice had become subdued as he finished speaking. Lois reached her hand up to touch the one he had placed on her shoulder. "But you're not, you're not," she said softly. "I wish, I had known you then," she sighed. Then she chuckled. "No, probably not a good idea. You'll find this hard to believe, Clark, but I was pretty arrogant and aggressive when I was sixteen." "Ah... I would never have thought that, Lois," Clark's tone of false surprise did not escape his companion. "So she was hot looking?" "Oh yeah." He grinned at her as she shot him another one of the Lane glares. "A little... by Smallville standards ... not in the same league as Metropolis ... not in the same league as brunettes...brown eyed brunettes.." he continued backtracking as Lois giggled at his responses, "who are journalists in Metropolis.." Finally, Lois stopped laughing and reaching up, grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his head close to hers. "Hot. I'll show you jalapena hot, Kent." She pulled his head even closer and kissed him, slow, hard, passionately, slipping her tongue along his upper lip as the kiss intensified. His arms encircled her, holding her so tightly against him that she had absolutely no doubt as to how he felt about her at that moment. Or how she felt about him. She never wanted the kiss to end. But, of course, it did. They were interrupted by the blinding glare of a flashlight and Jonathan Kent's businesslike voice. "Clarissa's about to pop." He turned around and headed back to the house, his booming voice calling for Martha to meet him in the barn. Martha was out of the house in a flash, screen door banging behind her, pulling on a sweater as she trotted briskly to meet her husband. Lois and Clark caught up with them, following them along the moonlit path to the barn. What followed was the scariest, most terrifying, absolutely amazing thing that Lois had ever seen. Clarissa heaved and grunted for what seemed like forever and then, with a little expert help from Jonathan, in a whoosh of placenta and blood, Clarissa's calf made her appearance, her spotted hide all slick and wet, eyes large and astonished. Slowly, uncertainly, she rose on wobbly legs and looked around while Clarissa bent over and began, with great care, to lick her baby clean. Lois looked at the Kents. "Wow," she said softly, "Wow!" * * * Sunday night as Lois snuggled into the warmth of cotton sheets and old quilts, she remembered something she had said to Clark, shortly after they had first started working together, after he'd translated a Chinese fortune cookie for her. Surprised by that and by the warmth of his sudden laugh at some comment she'd made, she'd said, "You're a strange one, Clark Kent, but I think I've got you figured out." And she did think she had him figured out back then, too. One hundred per cent positive. But, just recently, she figured out that his *strangeness* was explained by the fact that he was an extraterrestial. Yeah, that did go a long way to explaining *strange*. However, this Sunday, she changed her mind again. Now, she was absolutely certain that Clark's *strangeness* was because he came from Kansas. As she had watched him that day, she became increasingly convinced that this new revised opinion was the truth, even more the truth than what the globe had revealed. So the question now became more complex: could a workaholic city girl find happiness with a guy from outer space who liked to hang out on the farm in his spare time. She had no idea, but she was starting to think she might like to take the chance to find out. Maybe she'd finally met the man she could trust, the man she'd thought she'd never meet. Well, that's obvious, she said to herself, that's why you've come here this weekend. She giggled, turned off the light on the old painted night table beside Clark's narrow, boyhood bed and went to sleep, sliding into dreams where things happened between her and Clark Kent that were forbidden by her daytime rules. * * * Lois and Clark spent Monday morning helping out with a few farm chores which they interspersed with several visits to Clarissa and her new calf, whom Lois had been given the honor of naming. She called it Xena. Later, after a lunch of Martha's homemade soup, the two hopped in Jonathan's old pickup truck and drove over a couple of paved roads and one dirt one to Shuster's field. Lois wanted to see the spot where Clark had landed as a baby and the man in question was only too happy to show her. Before they reached their destination, however, Clark pulled over to the side of the road. "There's something I'd forgotten about, something I'd like to show you up on the ridge over there." He leaned across her to point towards a low rolling ridge of rock about half a mile away which rose above the field in front of them. "Think you can handle a bit of hiking?" "Of course, I can. But what are we going to see?" "Some pictogylphs painted hundreds of years ago by an unknown Native band, maybe the Padoucas or the Kanza, no one's really sure. We'll have to do a bit of climbing to get there." He had hopped out of the truck and circled around to the passenger side where Lois was already standing on the ground, waiting for him. "OK, what's the best route across this field?" "Along the edge, through that small clump of trees. That way, we won't disturb Wayne Irig's sunflowers." "Sunflowers!" Lois looked at him in surprise. "Yeah," he grinned. "It's an important crop out here. This is the "Sunflower State," you know," he said, using his fingers to punctuate the label. "So, that's what those green things are. I figured it was corn. You know, getting ready for that crop ritual you have at the end of summer." "Well, there's some of that around, too." He reached for her hand to help her over the long timbers of the low weathered fence and then the two of them walked along a narrow path which skirted the perimeter of the field. Then they cut through a stand of maple and pine trees, stepped across a narrow stream, and finally, some fifteen minutes later, they reached the base of the ridge that Clark had pointed out from the truck. It wasn't a difficult climb although the slope was not as gentle as it had looked from the road. Outcrops of rounded, lichen covered boulders provided for secure footings as they climbed beside a clear narrow ribbon of water that slipped and fluttered to the stream below. Invigorated by the sun and the wind, Lois found the climb exhilarating. A hand from Clark, who was, after all, taller than her, gave Lois the anchorage she needed to hoist herself up the boulders at the top of the ridge. When both her feet were planted firmly on the flat expanse of rock, she found herself standing beside him, almost touching him, and for a moment their eyes met. "Thanks," she said, not willing to pull her gaze from his, feeling again that overpowering sense of his strength, his body, his nearness. He reached his hand up to twine it through her hair and then he bent to kiss her. "You're welcome." His voice was low, soft velvet brushing her heart. "Lois," he said softly, not moving as he slid his hand down to curve around the back of her neck. Then he shook his head, gave her a small flash of a smile and said lightly, "I really did bring you here to show you the glyphs. This way." He turned and strode away from her, walking toward a huge rounded boulder that had probably been rolled into place eons ago by a relentless glacier or perhaps a passing giant. Disappointed, Lois sighed and then followed him. Well, she told herself, that's the way you told him you wanted it. Clark disappeared into a narrow crevice between two boulders that were twice as tall as he was, Lois just a few steps behind him. Putting one hand on the smooth grey surface of the rock for balance, she slipped into the narrow gap and, after a few feet, found herself beside Clark in a small flat area bounded on two sides by high walls of stone. "Clark!" Her voice was hushed as she looked at the giant red ochre outlines of men and animals that had been painted there so long ago. Stepping closer, she put her hand over part of one drawing and turned to look at Clark, her face suffused by a childlike amazement at what she was seeing and the strange sense that she had connected with a stream of existence which stretched back through the millennium. "Let's go over there. Over on that rock. You can get a better sense of the whole set of drawings from there." They scrambled up the rock, sat down on its hard sun warmed surface, and gazed across at the glyphs which traced the story of long ago hunters, pursuing bison and antelope, and dancing in celebration, their vitality suggested by the spare sweeps of vigorous lines of red, black and amber. "Mom and Dad brought me here when I was a kid. I think I must have been about eight. And then I used to come here with Pete and Joe, and Wayne's son, Chris. They say it's haunted here, that the ghosts of warriors protect this site for eternity." He exaggerated the last words as he spoke, looking at her dramatically, hoping to impress her. Lois raised one eyebrow in amusement. "And is it?" "Absolutely. The three of us camped out here one night; at least we tried to. But then something happened. A large shape and a blood curdling yell." "Go on. There was not." "Yeah, there was. We were out of here so fast and down that ridge. I'm still not quite sure what happened." "Clark! It was probably somebody's older brother out to scare three gullible boys." "You think? Gosh, that's disappointing." Lois laughed, patted his thigh, and leaned her head against his shoulder but kept her eyes on the tableau in front of her. "I've never seen anything like it. Clark, do you realize we're looking at the work of ancient reporters?" "Stop thinking about work, Lois." They sat there for a while longer, not talking much, just basking in the sun and the solitude of their surroundings, enjoying each other's nearness. Then Lois got to her feet and reached out her hand to Clark. "So now, show me Shuster's field. I want to see where you first landed." "Okay." He rose to his feet and once again she had that disturbing sense of his nearness, of the grace and power of his body, and she wanted to touch him. She wanted to do more than touch him. Instead she turned around and walked back toward the crevice through which they had come, trying to keep well ahead of him. "Lois, what's the rush?" he called as he came up behind her. She turned and looked at him. They were standing very close almost touching, but still that safe gap remained between them. The wind blew a few dark strands of her hair against her cheek and she raised her hand to push them away. And once again she was lost in him, her heartbeat escalating, threatening to rob her of breath. His eyes were intense, dark pools of longing, but he did not take the one step to close the space between them. Expelling a short breath, he stepped a few paces back. "I think this way down is the easiest." She shifted her eyes towards the trail he'd indicated and began her descent to the base of the ridge, scrambling down the rocks, making a couple of small agile leaps to lower levels as she did. He was waiting for her when she reached the flat ground of the field. He took her hand as they entered the woods that stretched from the ridge along the west side of the field as far as the road. Now the silence between them was uncomfortable, not the silent bond which had connected them earlier as they sat looking at the glyphs. Now the silence was almost physical, charged, each of them aware of the other but not daring to speak, not wanting to escape the tension building between them as they walked along the overgrown path. Lois stumbled over the branch of a fallen log, its length hidden by clumps of tall ferns rising out of the dark earth. Clark reached for her just as she was about to fall and they found themselves once again caught in that haze of longing that had hovered between them since .... when? All afternoon? Since last night? Since forever? This time Clark didn't step back. This time, he closed the distance between them, bending his dark head to kiss the side of her mouth, slowly moving his lips to cover her mouth with his. A soft moan escaped from the back of his throat as Lois slid her arms around him, her hands caressing the hard muscles of his back. He buried his face in her hair, murmuring, "Do you know how beautiful you are, Lois, how much I love you, how much..." he didn't finish his thought. Instead, he turned his head again, to capture her mouth beneath his, urging her to meet his passion. Lois did, melting into the hardness of his body, sliding her arms around his neck as she kissed him, seeking to let him know that the love was there in her, not only in her body, but in her soul, too. "I love you, Clark. I want to love ... make love to you... Clark..." Her voice was husky, urgent, driven by the intensity of her feelings for him, and by nothing else. Not by her logic, not by her rules, not by anything other than her need to be with him. "Lois," he picked her up and carried her a few steps to a small grassy clearing in the woods, ringed by the massive trunks of old maples thrusting out of the ground. Gently, Clark lowered her to the ground, sinking beside her, pulling her back into his arms, his hands slowly exploring her body as they lost themselves in their passion, in each other, as they made love in the new spring grass. Afterwards, Lois lay in Clark's arms, stretching her leg across his muscled thigh and running her hand over his chest in slow lazy circles as the yellow sun brushed their bodies with warmth. Neither felt any inclination to move. Clark slid one hand idly though her hair and kissed the side of her temple. "This is the way it's supposed to be between you and me. Now, always. I love you, Lois Lane." "Mmmm, I love you too, Clark Kent." Lois's voice was drowsy, contented, happy. "Mmmm." She yawned. "You're not going to fall asleep on me, are you?" Clark's voice was a little bit alarmed, a little bit teasing. "No better place to fall asleep," she murmured, curling into his side like a cat in the sunshine. "No better place in the world." "That's what I've been trying to tell you," he said softly, as his fingers touched the tip of her nose and then traced along the curve of her cheek. "So does this mean you'll marry me?" That woke her up. "Clark, you can't ask me that here, now." "Why not? Lois..." "Why not? Clark! What will we tell our kids? You know when they ask that question that all kids ask, like the one I asked your parents last night." She quoted her question, "How did Jonathan propose, Martha?" She continued, "Only our kids are going to be little the first time they ask it. What are you going to say to them, Clark? "Oh, we were lying stark naked in the woods after we'd had sex and I popped the question." I don't think so." Clark laughed, "So that means yes?" "Clark," her voice was a warning as she got to her feet. "Don't you dare..." She stopped, looking around at the bits of clothing that were strewn in a small circle around them, and then fished out a couple of lacy scraps. Clark rose to his feet beside her, kissed her lightly, and then reached over to pick up her shirt. His eyes were teasing and happy as he helped her on with the shirt, carefully buttoning it up for her as he spoke. "Okay, I'll do it properly, later, when we're both fully dressed. Maybe I'll go down on bended knee. I'll have to think about this, plan it just right," he gestured with his right hand, sketching an imaginary setting where all this would happen. Lois looked at him, standing in that small circle of sun in the woods, the light caressing the muscles of his powerful body as he happily sketched out what he thought would be a good proposal for children to hear. He was the most amazing man, she thought. She handed him his shirt. "Here, cowboy. Put on your shirt and take me to Shuster's field." * * * It didn't take them long to drive the few miles to Shuster's field. They didn't talk much, both content with the warmth that connected them. Clark did his best to keep his eyes on the road, but he wasn't too successful, his eyes straying every once in awhile to look at the beautiful woman beside him who he knew was watching him as he drove. He met her eyes and grinned as she smiled dreamily, more content than he'd ever seen her before. This weekend had been great; but it had been difficult, too, as he'd done his best to respect her wish to keep some distance between them for a while. More than anything, he wanted her to know that she could trust him, trust in a future with him. This weekend, he'd found himself always wanting to touch her and she hadn't exactly been unresponsive; in fact, she had done her share of touching, too. He smiled as he thought of that. Well, she was the one who had made the decision in the woods, that wonderful, incredible decision. He turned to look at her again. They were both still heavily under the influence of the afterglow of their lovemaking. But it was more than that; he felt like they'd resolved something between them this afternoon, that she'd accepted this part of their love, too. The globe had been right when it said she completed him. He felt like he was king of the universe. When they got to Shuster's Field, he pulled off the road, parking the pickup under a large alder. He'd barely got the hand brake on in the time that it took Lois to jump out of the cab and walk toward the low fence that separated the field from the road. Clark walked over to join her and they both stopped for a moment, Lois turning to look at him, her brown eyes excited. "It's at the far end of the field, isn't it? That's what Martha said." She pointed toward an old chestnut tree. "Over there, beyond where those men are working." "Yeah." Clark looked across the field. "That's funny. I wonder what they're doing." They climbed over the fence and walked across the field toward the chestnut tree. As they got closer, they saw that a small crew of men had dug up part of the field which they had meticulously gridded with pegs and twine so that it resembled the beginning of an archaeological dig. Three of these men were working in different segments of the grid. Parked not far from the chestnut tree was a large dark blue van. "Hi," Clark said, as they got closer to the first worker, a trim clean cut man in his mid twenties. The man stopped what he was doing, and looked at Clark. "Hi." "Didn't know anything was going on over here. You guys looking for something?" "Soil samples first and then we'll excavate. We think there may be an old Kanzac site here." "We?" Lois asked. "The University of Kansas. Department of Native Studies." The man smiled politely as though he were waiting for them to go so he could get on with his work. "How do you know to start here?" Lois asked. "Why not over by the road?" "The department did some aerial surveys pinpointing this half of the field." "Mind if we look around for a bit? I just wanted to show my friend some of the places I hung out as a kid. Best chestnuts in miles from that old tree." Clark nodded his head in the direction of the tree. "Yeah?" Polite disinterest. "Well, I hope you find what you're looking for. Should be interesting." "Thanks." The man turned back to his work. Clark took Lois's hand as they walked the hundred feet or so toward the tree in question. When they reached it, Lois leaned back against its thick trunk and looked over the field. "It was at night, wasn't it? When Martha and Jonathan found you?" "Uh huh." Clark stepped a couple of paces to his left. "Right here." "It must have been so incredible. A baby must have been the last thing they expected to find here. What they must have thought as they opened that capsule!" "When you think about it, it was pretty brave of them to open it," Clark said softly. "Clark, they couldn't *not* open it! I can't imagine just leaving it there and waiting for the authorities to arrive." Clark smiled. No, he thought, Lois Lane would have had that capsule open so quickly. She turned to cast worried eyes on him. "And who knows what would have happened to you if they had waited." She put her hand on his chest. "Clark, where do you think that ship is now? The government must still have it somewhere." "Don't think I haven't thought about it, Lois. Last year, after our first run in with Trask, I tried to find it again, but nothing." Clark's frustration was clear in his voice as he spoke. "That ship is part of me, Lois. I know so little about who and what I am, where I came from. I have the globe, and hearing that fifth message was great, but that's all I have. If I could find that ship again, I might learn more." He looked into Lois's eyes, reassured by the love he saw there. He reached his hand to touch her cheek. "But I do know who I am in my heart, what I care for, and what I have here." Lois slid both hands farther up his chest until she was touching his shoulders. "I hope so, Kal El, because you are so many things." "Am I?" He smiled at her, thinking for a moment that she had the most beautiful eyes in the world. "Yes, you are. I told you before, before I knew. You're good and you're compassionate and you have so much courage." He noticed some of the seriousness disappear from her voice as she continued. "And you're a semi-great cook, a lousy singer, have a weird sense of humor, and you're nearly as good a reporter as me." He flashed her a quick smile. "Ah, I thought I was better." He was pleased when he saw her eyes widen so he continued. "I mean who won a Kerth this year, Lois?" Lois shot him an appraising look. "One year is a fluke, Kent, not anywhere near a pattern. Wait til next year." Clark laughed. "Right. Then we'll see the pattern." He took her hand. "Come on, let's head home." "Yeah, it's getting late. I want to give Martha some help with supper." She looked again briefly at the spot where Clark's ship had landed. "I don't think I believe in miracles, Clark. But when you consider the incredible odds against your making it here safely, I wonder." She gazed at him and he read the question in her eye. "Do you ever ask yourself, why?" "Not anymore," he said softly as they began the walk back across the field. "You're here and we belong together." She gave him a sidelong glance and her tone was half teasing, half serious as she spoke. "You might be right, Clark Kent." They continued walking through the tall grass and spring wildflowers, leaving behind the men working at uncovering the past. As they were getting into Jonathan's old grey pickup truck, they did not see the man who got out of the blue van. It was Jeff Anderson and he was looking with interest at a small red crystal which one of his colleagues had just found in the earth. * * * Monday evening, once the sky had darkened, Lois and Clark took their leave of Clark's parents and flew back, by the light of a crescent moon, to Metropolis where the moonlight was obscured by the neon glare of streetlights, traffic lights, and electric billboards. The next morning they were back at work at the Daily Planet, with blissful smiles on their faces which elicited a knowing smile from Perry and a goofy one from Jimmy. Their work week passed with little out of the ordinary; that is, it was borderline frantic, with Lois out of town for two days to attend a seminar on "women in journalism" which she had committed to a month earlier, while Clark covered stories, played in a Big Brothers charity baseball game, and staved off disaster in Metropolis, upstate New Troy, and diverse other locations. Their personal life was put on the back burner, although they did manage to have a nice dinner together on Thursday before Clark accompanied Lois to the station from which she caught her train to Washington for the seminar. Sunday, which was the first day of their weekend, things changed. Their personal lives returned, although not the way that either of them had been dreaming about all week. Lois had agreed on Thursday to go to Lucy's for lunch on Sunday. Lucy had asked their father, too, which surprised Lois; she hadn't expected to see her father again so soon. Nevertheless, buoyed by the Smallville weekend and by her confidence in her new relationship with Clark, Lois felt optimistic that maybe things could change with her father. She had learned to trust one man; maybe she could regain her trust in another. For Clark, the weekend brought a second encounter with the man who had contacted him in the state court house a week and a half earlier. It was early Saturday evening and Clark was on his way back to his apartment, stopping en route to pick up a few items for the pasta he was going to prepare for him and Lois after he met her at the train station. The man fell into step with him as he left the small Italian grocery a couple of blocks from his apartment. "Mr. Kent, I trust you and Ms. Lane enjoyed your weekend in Smallville." Clark looked at him in surprise. "And just how did you know we were there?" The man didn't answer him. "Jeff Anderson and his crew are working Shuster's field. They discovered something new there this weekend, a red crystal, very similar in its molecular structure to kryptonite. You might want to tell Superman." "OK buddy, let's stop this spook stuff. Who are you?" Clark's hostility was obvious as he spoke. "Give me some hard evidence. Who's heading Bureau 39 now? How do I contact them? Or is Superman just supposed to wait until they give him a phone call?" The man spoke slowly. "Renata Fox is the face at our meetings but I'm not sure who she reports to. Bureau 39 falls under the umbrella of the FBI, but since its resurrection four months ago, it has pretty much of a free hand." They had reached the corner of Clinton street and the two men stopped. "I'll be in touch if I learn anything else." He turned and walked back toward the main intersection. There was no reason to follow him. Slowly, Clark walked the short distance to his apartment, finding it more difficult this time to dismiss what the man had said. He and Lois were being watched, although not too closely, he thought, because he was certain he would have noticed it. He was also concerned about the unknown red crystal. Opening his front door, he made a quick decision. He still had a little over an hour before Lois's train was due, enough time to fly to Shuster's field. Swooping down moments later, he landed in Shuster's field which was, not surprisingly for a Saturday night, completely deserted. Looking around, he noticed that the field had been quite methodically excavated, and that the grid lines were gone. It looked as though the site had now been abandoned. He could check that out easily enough. Briefly, he thought about stopping by to see his parents but then he remembered that tonight they were celebrating Wayne Irig's birthday. It would look a little odd if Clark Kent showed up, quite literally out of the blue, on Wayne's front porch. Leaping upward, he sped back to Metropolis. As he flew, Superman felt his resentment rising. Who were these people who had so misread his intentions as to think he posed a threat? What did they think he was planning on doing anyway? Had Trask been replaced by some lunatic equally out of control, someone who would stop at nothing to kill him? What we don't understand we'll first destroy. Was that how their minds worked? His parents had been right all these years to insist that the secret be kept. But Lois knew, he thought, and she loved him. Which brought him back to Lois again, both literally and figuratively. Part of him wanted to tell her, to seek her help and, let's face it, her comfort. But to tell her would be to put her at risk, too. She'd start investigating this, she'd wind up in trouble, and they'd use her, use her to get at him. It was no good thinking he hid his feelings when he was around her. He had made a deliberate effort to avoid public displays of affection with her for over a year now but someone always seemed to pick up an awareness of it, without his even touching her or saying anything. Lenny Stoke had noticed it when he held Lois hostage in his club cum control centre last fall and even Jimmy had commented on it a couple of weeks ago when they had been chatting in the elevator on their way up to the newsroom. She was the most important thing in the world to him; without her he had no hope for personal happiness and he would do anything to keep her safe. He would face this Bureau 39 problem head on, and, when he had it licked, he would marry Lois. But first he had to meet her at the train station. As he closed in on Metropolis, he automatically did a quick patrol of the city, intervening in one gang fight and stopping one drunken, out of control driver on the Metropolis freeway from careening into the transport truck in front of him. Then Superman vanished into a dark alley behind the train station and, a few seconds later, Clark Kent walked out onto the street. Ten minutes later he was holding an exuberant Lois Lane in his arms. For a moment he held her tightly against him. Lois, of course, brought him back to reality as she pulled back from him and searched his eyes, "What is it?" She waited for a few seconds but he just smiled at her and gave her a light kiss. Lois was still on a bit of a high from the seminar she had attended. It had been *so* much better than she had thought it would be and she was *so* glad that Perry had made her go. "Which just goes to show you, Clark," she'd said, "that Perry is a very smart man." Clark smiled. He had figured out almost as soon as he arrived at the Daily Planet that Perry White was just about the only person in the universe who had Lois's number. As their taxi drove through the brightly lit Metropolis night, Clark listened to her rave about the seminar, contented as he watched the city lights play on her hair and cheekbones. He would do everything he could to keep her safe and to protect his future with her. Once they were standing on the pavement in front of his apartment, she turned to him, a flirtatious sparkle in her eyes, "So, did you miss me, Clark?" He grinned and teased, "Hardly noticed you were gone, Ms. Lane." "Liar, you did so miss me." He opened the front door of his apartment and carried her bag inside. Then he turned and slid his large hand around the back of her neck and kissed her slowly. "Yeah," his voice was low, "I missed you." Lois slid her arms around his neck. "I missed you, too." Then her stomach rumbled. She giggled. "And I'm starving. I avoided snacks on the train because I knew you would have this wonderful dinner waiting when I got here." She wiggled her nose, checking for the aroma of Italian sauce but nothing. "Or not." "I got a little behind schedule. Come on, you can give me a hand and we'll be eating in no time." She did, carefully chopping onions, peppers and mushrooms for the sauce he was making. "You know Clark, we make a pretty good team here." Following his instructions, she added the vegetables to the tomato concoction which he had simmering on the stove. Then she reached into his cupboard for two plates and a couple of wine glasses, setting them on the small round table which stood to one side of the kitchen area. He grinned. "That's what I've been trying to tell you." Lois grinned at him impudently. "Yeah, yeah. Well, I've started listening." Lois dipped a spoon in the sauce and then tasted it. "Mmmm. Not bad, needs more pepper, don't you think?" She lifted the spoon to his mouth so he could try it. "You're right." He reached for the pepper grinder and finished preparing the sauce while Lois put together a salad. Then dinner was ready. As they ate, Lois asked how things had gone while she had been away. He filled her in, leaving out his encounter with the UFO investigator this evening. "What about this evening?" Lois asked. "What?" Clark picked up a piece of his roll and buttered it. "Nothing much." "Come on, Clark, you didn't make it home when you expected to for some reason." "Oh yeah." He had forgotten the small detail of the unprepared dinner. Trust Mad Dog Lane not to forget it. "Superman stuff. You know." Lois smiled. "Yes, I do, but I like to hear about it anyway." He decided a little diversion was in order. "One thing I did manage to get today." He walked over to the fridge and returned with a plate bearing a small cake. He bowed in front of her. "For, Ma'amselle. Le Gateau Chocolat, fresh from Francine's" They ate the rest of their dinner slowly, talking about the trivial events of the last few days, including more news about the seminar which, Clark thought, had energized Lois the same way a weekend at the beach did normal people. She had literally not slept for more than two hours each night. After dinner they settled down on Clark's couch to watch a video. Well that was what their stated intention was, but somehow they found that they also needed to communicate just how much they had missed each other and just how much they enjoyed being together. Not too far into the movie, after only the third car chase / explosion sequence, Clark reached blindly with one hand for the remote control and turned off the VCR. Lois laughed and accused him of deliberately choosing that video because he knew it would bore her and so she would look for other more interesting diversions. He was about to defend himself from this character slur when he was distracted by the far away sound of sirens. He held his breath for a moment, hoping that it would be a one alarm crisis, nothing that warranted his attention. But it wasn't; the alarms were frequent and Clark could distinguish the separate sounds of emergency vehicles and those of the police department. Sighing, he grimaced. "Lois, I have to go." She sighed too, and then gave him a quick smile. "I know. I know. I'll be here when you get back." She was. When he returned two hours later, she was fast asleep on his sofa, her arm curled around one of its large pillows. Quietly, he turned off the TV and then went into his bedroom to pull out a couple of blankets which he gently placed over Lois as she slept. He placed a tender kiss on her cheek, touched as he watched her smile in her sleep. Turning out the light, he headed toward his bedroom. After breakfast the next morning, both reluctantly went their separate ways. Clark had a commitment to shoot some hoops with a few old friends from college who were now working in Metropolis while Lois had to get ready for lunch with Lucy and her father. She was nervous about this lunch but she was also optimistic. Perhaps Clark was right; perhaps something really could be salvaged from the wreck of her battered family. She greeted Lucy with a hug and walked into the living room of her tiny apartment. "Can I give you a hand with anything, Luce?" Both women were dressed casually, in their best jeans, a sign perhaps that both felt more confident about the upcoming afternoon with their father. Lucy looked a little alarmed. "No thanks, I think maybe you should keep away from the kitchen. Things are going perfectly." Lois laughed. "Come on Lucy, I can cook. I'll have you know I gave Clark a lot of help making supper last night. I practically made it myself." Lucy gave her sister a knowing look. "Ah, so that's where you were last night. Gave you a call but no answer. So things getting more serious between you and Clark?" "Yeah, I think so, Lucy." "Are you going to marry him?" "Maybe. Probably. Lucy, I want to. I just wish I could feel good about marriage. I mean, what if it doesn't work? What if I can't meet the challenge? What if we find out we want different things and we fight? We had such a wonderful time last weekend. When I'm with him, I'm absolutely sure, but what if I'm wrong. I mean the trust thing, Lucy. What if he disappears? And children, Lucy!" "Lois! Calm down. Clark's a great guy. Why don't you try living with him for awhile before making up your mind. You know, give it a trial run." Lois shook her head. "Clark wouldn't go for that. He's a pretty traditional guy." Lucy wandered into her minuscule kitchen, followed by her sister who propped herself up on the only chair in the room, a bar stool wedged into a corner by the doorway. Lucy handed her a glass of white wine. "So, do you love him, Lois?" "You know I do." "Then take a chance. He just might be worth it and you certainly are." Lucy's head disappeared inside the fridge and then she turned around and thrust some leafy green stuff in Lois's hand. "Here, rip this into that bowl on the counter." "Think I can handle this, Luce?" "Just don't make the pieces too big." Lucy cast a quick glance at the clock. "Daddy should be here any minute." The two sisters continued chatting, each giving the other advice on how to live her life, while Lucy put the finishing touches on lunch. She was excited about the new job as a financial analyst which she had started this week, her first *serious* job she called it. Lois listened to her talk, pleased that Lucy was so happy after a couple of disastrous years during which she had seemed to lose her focus. Lois smiled; maybe Lucy was just growing up. An hour and a half later, when Sam Lane had still not arrived , the two women were not surprised by the ring of the phone which shattered the melancholy that had settled over Lucy's living room. Lois listened as her sister answered and politely accepted what must have been Sam Lane's apology on the other end. Her attempt to reschedule was unsuccessful. Lucy hung up the phone and said, "Dr. Lane regretfully declines... He'll call when he's more certain of his schedule. Something's come up." "On a Sunday?" "Yeah. He's just taken a few minutes out of a meeting and then he's busy again, working on something new." "Like old times." There was a trace of bitterness in Lois's voice as she spoke. "Did he say what he was working on?" Lois's question was half hearted, more an attempt to avoid blowing up. "No. You know, I checked the company Dad's working for a couple of days after we had lunch. I'd remembered seeing a reference to Biotech Networks in a high tech market report but I hadn't paid much attention to it. I checked again. It's pretty new, just thinking about going public. It's got some competition in neuroelectronic devices but apparently it's cutting edge. The analyst who wrote the report sounded pretty positive. He recommended that our company consider underwriting it if it does go public." "Well, that'll be nice for Daddy." "Oh, Lois, it didn't occur to me that he wouldn't come." Watching her sister choke back the tears, Lois instinctively came over to sit beside her on the sofa. Putting her arms around Lucy, she said, as she had so many times, years ago, "I know Lucy. But it's all right, it's all right." Standing up, she said, "Come on, let's go for a walk. There's always something happening on a Sunday afternoon." The two women spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the streets around Lucy's new apartment, and poking into small shops. They fortuitously stumbled across Selma's Chocolates where they sampled a range of Selma's products and finished up the afternoon sitting on a bench watching an outdoor puppet show in the small park a few blocks west of Lucy's place. It was early evening by the time they returned to Lucy's apartment and Lois found herself reluctant to leave her sister, feeling the air of melancholy from which they'd fled still lurking in the apartment. Lois had planned to meet Clark at her place for dinner so she made a suggestion. "Hey, it's a shame to waste that lunch you prepared, Luce. Why don't I ask Clark to come over?" Lucy hesitated and then said, "Lois, he's probably looking forward to a romantic evening alone." Lois grinned. "Probably. But I'm gonna ask him, anyway." She picked up the phone, a little disappointed to get his answering machine. "Hi, Clark. It's me. I'm at Lucy's. How about meeting me here for dinner, instead of my place?" Half an hour later, Clark called back. "Hi, I'll be there in ten." And he was. Standing in the doorway, bearing a bottle of wine, the substantial remains of last night's chocolate cake, and, Lois thought, the most wonderful smile in the world. As he entered the almost non existent foyer, Clark said, "Please tell me Lucy's cooking." Lois took the cake and led him into the apartment. "I helped though." "Hi, Clark." "Hi, Lucy. So how was lunch?" "Great. Great," Lois said. "We know every part of the neighborhood, now, and we found this wonderful chocolate place." Clark looked surprised. "And how's your dad?" Lois shrugged her shoulders and looked away from him. "Who knows. He didn't show." Clark let out a short breath. "Oh." He looked at both women, wishing he could change what had happened. Lois met his eyes and then quickly averted them. Suddenly both women were very active getting dinner ready and setting the table. "It doesn't matter, Clark," Lois said as she rummaged for something in a drawer in the small desk by the door. "It's not the first time." Pulling out a corkscrew, she opened the wine he'd brought and poured him a glass, and then two more for herself and her sister. She made a small show of tasting it. "Nice, Clark. And you're going to love what Lucy has made." She raised her glass in the direction of her sister and Clark, "Well, cheers!". Once it was established by a frosty glare from the love of his life that any further mention of Sam Lane was out of order, Clark had fun. He teased both women about their relationship, and both Lucy and Lois gave back as good as they got, including a few affectionate barbs directed at each other. Clark thought they had circled the wagons and it was the two of them against the world. For a moment as he watched them giggling he caught sight of the teenage Lois protecting her younger sister but he also caught a glimpse of an adult Lucy protecting her older sister. Lucy had been living with Lois when he'd first met her but then Lucy had gone out to California in pursuit of something, Clark couldn't remember what. The two women hadn't had much contact during the year that followed, not until Lucy returned to Metropolis and got involved with a string of disastrous boyfriends. But now, Clark realized they were rediscovering the closeness of their childhood. Later, as Lois and Clark disembarked from Lois's silver Cherokee at her apartment, Clark raised the subject of Sam Lane again. "So what happened, Lois? It must have been pretty important." "He had to work. Sunday afternoon, and he had to work." He could detect the fury in her voice. "Clark, how could he do that?" "Sometimes, people do. You." He stopped to look at her. "Me," he added pointedly. "Yeah. Yeah." They walked around the corner from the parking garage to the front of Lois's building and Lois stopped at the bottom of the steps. "Look, Clark, I'm pretty tired tonight. Do you mind if we just call it a night?" Clark did mind, although he didn't say so. He wanted to be with her tonight and he wanted to be with her tomorrow. He wanted to forget his concern over what Bureau 39 was up to and just spend one day, one whole day, alone with Lois Lane. Well, he thought, he could accept her rejection tonight although he could sense how down she was and he didn't like to leave her like that. Bending his head he gave her a small affectionate kiss. "OK. But I'll see you tomorrow." "I don't know, Clark." Her tone was dispirited. "I have some loose ends to tie up on a couple of stories I'm working on. I lost some time when I went to that seminar." "Lois," Clark exploded. "You're doing exactly the same thing you accuse your father of doing." "I am not." There was life in her voice now, angry defiant life. She glared at him and then it all came out. "How can you say that? How dare you say that? I haven't walked out on my family. I haven't promised them I'd be there and then disappeared. I haven't gone years without even phoning. Do you know Lucy and I lived with Dad my senior year in high school? Mom was such a mess she finally decided to go into rehab and there was nowhere for me and Lucy to go unless we left Metropolis to live with my aunt and uncle. It was my senior year in high school and I wanted to finish it at the same school. Finally, *finally*, Clark, my father agreed to take us. But we hardly ever saw him. He hired a housekeeper and it was almost like living alone. Eventually, we had a big fight and I moved out." She paused for air. "I don't know what Lucy was thinking when she asked him to lunch today." She reached in her belt pack for her keys and then swirled around to mount the steps to the front entrance of her apartment building. Clark was beside her in a flash, covering her hand with his as she unlocked the door. "Lois..." He noticed a tear slowly slipping down her cheek. His voice softened, "Lois." He gently touched the tear as he spoke. That was the trigger. Lois could handle his hostility but she couldn't handle his tenderness; her eyes welled up. "Oh, Clark, why do I still care?" He pulled her into his arms, a comforting embrace, stroking her hair as he spoke. "Because he's your father, I guess." "I'm a grown woman, Clark. An adult. I should be able to get over this." "I dunno. Maybe we never get over what happened when we were kids. Maybe, in a way, we never stop needing our parents." His voice was soft as he thought about Martha and Jonathan and the support they always gave him. "But parents die, Clark. Why can't I treat it like that?". "I guess because even then, you still feel the love they had for you and it still gives you strength." Lois pulled back and looked at him, touching his shoulder. "I forgot," she said. "Is that what it's like for you? When you think of Lara and Jor El?" "Yes." He slid his hand along her cheek. "And when I think about Mom and Dad. And that's how I hope it will be when our children think about us." She smiled at that and sighed. "That's a scary thought, Clark. I mean, I watch you with kids and I see how good you are with them, but I'm not very good with children. What if I turn out to be like my mother and my father? I mean it's all about trust and honesty, isn't it? And the security that brings you in your relationship with anyone. And there was never very much trust and honesty in my family. Before he could reply to that, the door opened and they were facing a tall, good looking man on his way out of the building, his way blocked by their presence. "Sorry," they both murmured automatically and stepped to one side as he passed. "That's OK." He grinned, obviously in a good mood, as he turned to Clark and said, "Hope you'll be as lucky as I was, pal," and continued on his way down the stairs. Clark sighed. Any remote hope he might have had of staying the night had just been torpedoed. There was no way Lois would let him in now. It would be a matter of principle. He watched as she leveled a disapproving glare at the man's retreating back. "That was sleazy," she said. Yep, matter of principle. Well, the better part of valor. He kissed her cheek and repeated what he'd said earlier but now there was a question in his tone. "I'll see you tomorrow?" "Uh huh. But not too early, I plan to sleep in and then have a long, luxurious bath." He smiled. "Eleven OK?" "Perfect. G'night, Clark." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and pushed the door to enter the building as he headed down the steps. Then she turned around and called out, "Clark." He stopped. "Yes?" "Thanks for tonight." "It was my pleasure, Lois." * * * Monday morning, Clark was just finishing his shower when the phone rang. Wrapping a white towel around his lean, muscled waist, he bent to pick it up. "Mr. Kent?" Clark recognized the voice. "Yes." "Meet me in the subway entrance at Hamilton and 22nd in half an hour. By the coffee kiosk across from the turnstiles." Then he hung up. Letting out a quick breath in frustration, Clark quickly spun into his clothes. If he rushed as fast as humanly possible, he should just make it. By now, he wasn't sure if his apartment was being watched and he didn't want to risk anyone noticing a Superman takeoff. He made it, late by only a few minutes, spotting his man sipping coffee as he examined magazines on the rack in front of the coffee stand. The station was crowded; this was still rush hour and it was easy to overlook someone in the middle of a diverse population focused on getting to work, particularly someone who had perfected the art of blending in. Clark sauntered toward the kiosk, ordered a coffee, and waited for his contact to speak. "They plan to grab Superman this week. I don't know when." Clark sounded skeptical. "And just how do they plan to do that?" "They're planning a trap for him, using something they figure he won't be able to resist, something he'll risk anything for." Clark felt his heart hammering. "Do you know what?" Lois, he thought. They'll use Lois to get to me. "No." The man finished his coffee, tossed the cup in the garbage can next to him, and walked away. Clark strode after him, grabbing his shoulder. "Hey, you can't just pop up and leave with a couple of lousy cryptic words." The man met his eyes directly and for the first time Clark heard some passion in the man's voice. "Look, I'm taking a risk here. But three weeks ago, Superman saved my sister's life. She was one of the crowd at the Tigers game when the dome of the Metropolis Arena started to collapse." "Are they following me?" And Lois he mentally added. "I don't think so. But they know what you and Ms. Lane do." "How?" "Look at your co-workers, Mr. Kent. One of them reports to Bureau 39." "Who?" "I don't know. They refer to "our contact at the Planet." He was planted there last year to keep an eye on Lois Lane." "What?" Clark was surprised; he would never have thought of suspecting any of his co-workers. He shook his head. "Look, surely Lois's engagement to Lex Luthor proved there was nothing between her and Superman." "Since your press conference last month after the Stride business, the bureau's been keeping a closer eye on you. That's why I've come to you rather than Lane." He paused, then continued, "I've told you all I know. You tell Superman." The agent walked away, merging with, and then finally disappearing into the blur of morning commuters. Clark stood immobile for a moment as he thought about how to handle this. He would have to keep close tabs on Lois. That shouldn't prove too difficult, at least today, but after that, he was less confident. He'd never been able to control anything that Lois did. He'd never actually thought about doing so, never wanted to. Now he did. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his head lowered in thought, he slowly walked to the exit of the subway station. He contemplated telling Lois, letting her know about the danger she was in. If he could convince her to get out of town, he could fly her somewhere remote where she would be safe, where Bureau 39 wouldn't find her. Maybe that monastery in northern Tibet where he had spent a couple of months after finishing university. Anyway, she could use a bit of Zen, he thought with a smile. Or that uninhabited island off the coast of Ecuador. He'd often fantasized about taking Lois there. She could wait for him while he tackled Bureau 39. Then he would bring her back to Metropolis. Yeah, that would work. No, it wouldn't. He knew Lois would refuse to go; he could hear her saying, "I'm not running away, Clark." Frustrated, he ran his hand through his hair. Somehow, he felt that whatever he did, it was going to be the wrong thing. Warning her not to talk to strangers sounded silly. Not to follow any hot leads, never go anywhere alone, not go on any wild chases, not to be herself. She hadn't taken too kindly to his bodyguarding her a year ago when she had witnessed that murder, although afterward he realized she had grown to like his being around. If only she weren't so headstrong, so independent. With that thought he puffed out a sharp breath in disgust, as he heard the voice of Lex Luthor say to him, "She's a little too independent, don't you think." He'd been outraged at Luthor's words. If he told her, she would fling herself into tracking down Bureau 39, putting herself at risk. That's what she would do, right after she blew up at him for not telling her earlier what was going on. Still, he should warn her. But he had to keep her safe; that wasn't unreasonable, was it? He showed up at Lois's door a good half hour before their agreed upon time. In fact, he'd been keeping an eye on her apartment building ever since his encounter in the subway station but nothing unusual at all had happened. Finally, bored with hovering over, staking out, and strolling by, he decided to risk being early for their date. Waiting in her apartment would be a whole lot more comfortable than what he'd been doing. He could hear Lois on the other side of the door, going through the ritual unlocking of her security system. It occurred to him that all these locks she had were like the locks she kept around herself, keeping invaders out. Well, she'd at least given him the key. Finally, she opened the door, standing in front of him in a knee length silk robe, her dark hair tied back, probably fresh from that long bath she'd told him about last night. He knew as he looked at her, he wasn't going to tell her. "Sorry. I'm early." He held up copies of two out of town newspapers. "I'll just read these while you continue whatever it was you were doing." He tried to look innocent. She pulled him into the apartment. "For goodness sakes, Clark, what are you doing?" "Missed you. We should be living together." Lois rolled her eyes. "That's what Lucy suggested yesterday." "What?" "That we should live together. See if we're long term compatible. Then maybe marriage." "That's ridiculous." Ever the logical journalist, Lois asked, "Which part?" "The living together part." "But isn't that just what you said?" Lois teased. "You know what I meant. Lois, I'm serious about this. Things would be so much easier if we were together." Lois cocked her head to one side. "Why do I think there's more to this discussion than what I'm picking up?" Clark raised his eyes for a moment and then gestured with his right hand. "Lois, I ... " but he was at loss to continue. Lois stopped teasing and took a step closer to him. "What is it, Clark? Why *are* you here early?" Clark bent his head so that their foreheads touched briefly. "I told you. I wanted to be with you." That at least was the truth, he thought. She looked at him, her dark eyes searching his face. "Clark?" Then she smiled at him, touching his shoulders as she spoke. "OK." She reached in her fridge, pulling out a carton of orange juice, and poured a large glass which she handed to him. "But I've just started that bath, so you do have to read those newspapers." * * * They spent the rest of the day together, hanging out in Metropolis, exploring parts of the city they'd overlooked in their busy lives, window shopping at art galleries they couldn't afford, accidentally locating a better source of chocolate ice cream than Lois's regular supplier, and playing a game of chess in the park, which Lois won. In a narrow side street, near the theatre district, they stumbled across a small antique clothing store where Lois found a garish, 1940's tie with hula girls on it that she bought for the man she loved, and then they wandered back to the small pub not far from Lois's apartment for dinner, by the end of which Clark's joy in being with Lois Lane had nearly succeeded in burying his preoccupation with Bureau 39. It was in the pub that they heard the evening news item about a mounting flood problem in the southern U.S. and Clark knew that he had to fly there to help out. Before he left, he tried to secure a promise from her that she would stay at home for the rest of the evening. That she would be there when he got back. She looked at him, puzzled, but said that she'd watch the video they'd rented for that evening, holding it up as evidence as she spoke. He walked her the two blocks back to her apartment, gave her a quick kiss and disappeared into the night, returning hours later to find her in bed, sound asleep. He sighed and spun out of the suit, lying down beside her on the bed. There was no way he was leaving her alone tonight and there was absolutely no way he was spending the night on that torturous white bench in her living room. During the night, Lois awoke briefly, that momentary half aware wakefulness before sleep once again reclaims consciousness. In the darkness, she felt the presence of Clark's large body sprawled beside her, lying on top of her quilt. Kansas rules? she wondered. You only sleep under the covers if the lady invites you? Smiling, she touched his shoulder gently, trying not to wake him as she wondered how the flood rescue had gone. He was sleeping so soundly. Tomorrow, she would get a bigger bed, she thought as she drifted back to sleep. * * * One of things that Clark did the next morning, squeezed in between performing those activities delineated in his job description for the Daily planet, was to start checking up on Bureau 39. In the back of his mind was some vague plan that if he could confront them, he could stop their plot, assuming there was a plot, althoug