Suffer the Little Children
By Jenni Debbage <jdse08662@blueyonder.co.uk>
Rated PG-13
Submitted January 1999

     This is my fourth story in the continuing lives of 'my Kent family' and
although it may stand alone it's best read following 'The Master Race'.
This story deals with the tragedies wrought by terrorists and involves a
serious 'wham'.  However I hope I have balanced the sadness with a little
humour and, as always with my tales, Superman and his family finally
triumph.  My terrorist gang is purely fictitious and I hope not to tread on
any toes.
     As before the main characters belong to W B, T N T etc and I am only
borrowing them for a time.  Please read and hopefully enjoy and let me know
your opinion.  I love hearing from you.

Jenni Debbage
jdse08662@blueyonder.co.uk




                                                Suffer the Little Children

     Julian Kent was looking forward to his first Christmas in Metropolis.
In fact it was his very first 'real' Christmas.  When his grandfather was
alive and he lived with him in England at Sheringham Hall, the festive
season had always been an expensively elaborate affair with his guardian
playing the bountiful 'Lord of the Manor' to the hilt.  Yet for all that,
the opulent, traditional festivities had never seemed sincere to the
sensitive young boy.  This year with his new family, Julian knew that
things would be much better.  At least so he had thought in the beginning,
but as 'the big day' approached his mom grew increasingly tense and his dad
seemed to be disappearing a lot.  Actually he did that quite frequently,
but as the holiday season came ever closer so his dad's vanishing acts
increased.  Maybe his dad disappearing more often had something to do with
his mom's crabby manner.  Lately, from personal experience, he had
discovered that when she was in one of her 'moods' it was better to keep
out of her way.
     The disintegration of the loving atmosphere of the family circle
worried Julian.  Since he had arrived in Metropolis in the summer, he had
been happier than at any other time in his young life.  The ambience of a
caring family had soothed Julian's deprived soul and had brought out his
natural personality.  To experience laughter and light-hearted teasing was
entirely new and heartwarming and to feel himself loved for just being
himself was the greatest gift he had ever been given.  Only now with the
happenings of the past few days, Julian was afraid that his venture into
contentment was falling apart and he anxiously believed that he might be
the cause.  After all he was the new addition to the family equation.
Julian did not know that Christmas in the Kent household was traditionally
a fraught period.  Lois Lane had never quite thrown off her distrust of the
season, a response ingrained on her soul by her own unhappy experiences
during childhood.  With the advent of her own children a more maternal Lois
had sought, with some success, to minimize her feelings of insecurity, but
nonetheless she could not totally dismiss her irrational irritation.
     So too,  the lead up to Christmas due to the frenzied preparations
undertaken by the citizens of Metropolis meant that accidents and
unfortunately incidents of the criminal variety increased, creating
additional work for the super hero.  Clark suffered pangs of guilt over
this forced neglect of his family, yet at present he found it almost
impossible to ignore a cry for help.  He recalled the silent promise he had
made to himself and to his family while he had sat by the bedside of his
injured son during the horrifying incident of the summer and in the ensuing
months he had held to his decision and reined back on his Superman actions.
 At this particular time however,  when everyone's expectations of
happiness were so much greater than normal, he buried his misgivings,
vowing to redress the situation later, and expanded his range of duties
once more.  His biological children, knowing his dual identity, took it all
in stride.  Not so Julian, who was thoroughly baffled by his new father's
constant absences.
     Also this year, the stressed-out couple had an additional work-related
problem to contend with, namely that of filling temporarily the position of
editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet.  Superman had been shocked and
saddened to find, while attending yet another traffic accident, that his
'chief ' Perry White had been the victim of a driver who had clearly been
celebrating the holiday season too liberally and who on his drunken way
home had run a red light and crashed into the editor's vehicle.  The tough,
conscientious newsman was thankfully not seriously hurt, but his broken leg
and ankle combined with back injuries meant that he would be confined to
bed-rest over the holiday period.  Lois had stepped into his shoes many
years before when she and Clark were newlyweds and, because the added
responsibility of the position had created such havoc in their marriage,
she had promised herself that never again would she assume an editorial
post.  However, she had been unable to resist Perry's pleas when she had
visited him in hospital the day after his accident.  Obviously in pain, the
older man had been willing to put his own needs aside for the sake of his
beloved newspaper and struggle from his bed against his doctor's orders,
unless he could safely leave his job in the hands of someone in whom he had
complete trust.  Lois, seeing the additional appeal in the eyes of Alice
White, could not resist their supplication.  With the proviso that Clark
should share a joint editorship, Lois consented to fill the post while
Perry was indisposed.  Of course, both Lois and Clark knew that there was
little chance, given the seasonal increase in his Superman duties, that
Clark would have the time to pay more than lip-service to his new
partnership in the editorial field, but Lois was adamant that she would not
be promoted above her husband again.  The situation was the only available
option though it was far from ideal and it meant that Lois shouldered most
of the added responsibility at a time when she was at her most vulnerable.
Thankfully Martha and Jonathan, as ever, were there to step into the breach
and the younger couple once again felt very grateful and humble to have
such a wonderful and reliable backup.
     But then Julian was unaware of all these facts and he desperately
hoped that his new parents were not regretting having adopted him.  When
the family had returned from England the adult Kents had been fairly
apprehensive that Julian, having spent most of his life in the sheltered
environment of the Norfolk countryside, would be overwhelmed by the
frenetic pace of life in Metropolis.  All their fears had been groundless,
as the young country boy was excited but unfazed by the teeming city
streets with their busy, often brash citizens.  Even the prospect of
starting his first semester ever at school had not been sufficiently
intimidating to upset his overall contentment.  And though a few of the
more unkind kids had, in the beginning, made fun of his strange accent,
with the support of Joel and Clara he had succeeded in shrugging off the
insults and within a few weeks he had been accepted as another of the
popular Kent children.  The teachers and their assistants had been
impressed from the outset by the quiet boy's good manners, his intelligence
and his obvious joy in his new life and country.
     Settled into his brand-new life style, Julian had assumed that the
coming holidays would be a particularly joyous occasion, but this had proved
to be untrue and the disquieting thought that he was the reason for the
strained atmosphere haunted his dreams.  Racking his brain for a solution
to this problem, Julian had settled on a course of action that he prayed
would reverse his supposed fall from grace.  If he could prove to his
parents just how much he treasured all that they had given him then perhaps
harmony would be restored.  In the past, his English grandfather had always
shown appreciation by the giving of a gift and though Julian had never
valued these presents, that was mainly because the old gentleman had
employed his secretary to carry out the actual buying and had never made
the time or the effort to discover what his grandson would most enjoy.
Julian would not make the same mistake.  He intended to personally find
that special gift for each of his parents and he had set about this
pleasant task with gusto.  The first hurdle he had encountered was the
realization that his small amount of pocket-money would hardly cover the
cost and this had seemed to be an insurmountable problem until several days
ago when the family had received a formal greetings card from the firm of
'Beckworth and Blackwood', the trustees of the Sheringham Estate.
Inspiration struck the troubled child as he remembered the words which
Clark had spoken to him when telling him of their adoption plans; 'The
title and heritage will always be yours.'  Which meant that all the money
that belonged to Grandfather was now his and though Julian didn't really
understand the value of his inheritance, he felt sure that there ought to
be enough money for his needs.  He had only to ask Mr Beckworth to send him
some of the money now, but that posed another puzzle, how to contact Mr
Beckworth without revealing his plans to Mom and Dad?  After some
consideration he had decided to recruit the help of his grandma Martha,
since his understanding grandmother seemed capable of solving any problem.
When first he had broached the subject, Martha had assured him that there
was really no need for such a gesture, but with her remarkable insight, she
had quickly perceived that Julian needed to show his parents how much he
treasured the life they had given him and that he would sincerely enjoy
finding special tokens  to embody his appreciation.  Recognizing all of
this Martha enthusiastically chose to aid him in his quest.  The weekend
before, the two conspirators had phoned Mr Beckworth and asked the executor
to release a certain amount of money (mainly Martha's estimation of what
would be suitable) for the youngster's purpose.  Once the reasons for the
request were explained, the solicitor readily complied and the money was
transferred with surprising speed.  That evening, after school, Grandma and
he were going Christmas shopping.

     The streets and stores of Metropolis were filled with bustling
shoppers, with the less fortunate members of society hiding in doors and
alleyways hoping to beg or steal from their more affluent counterparts.
Christmas lights and garlands were strung throughout the shopping malls and
brightly decorated trees adorned every available space, while scarlet-clad
Santas called out seasonal greetings and welcomed prospective buyers into
the stores they fronted.  Seasonal music was piped out into the throng and
an occasional small choir added their voices to the cacophony.  It was the
type of scene that Lois Lane most abhorred, yet Martha derived a great deal
of pleasure from witnessing Julian's wide-eyed wonder as he gazed around
himself, thoroughly bewitched by the colourful, noisy pageant.  His trance
was, however, short-lived, as he determinedly dragged his grandmother in
the direction of a small and sparsely decorated jewellery store.  A little
discreet probing previously had uncovered the fact that Lois had a penchant
for cameos and whenever the two entered the shop, the boy headed
unwaveringly towards a showcase which held a variety of the items in
question.  Slowly browsing through the display case to find the exact one
that would best suit his mother, he eventually chose a small but
exquisitely cut pendant hanging on a fine gold chain, which was, Martha
discovered with relief, well within the limits of Julian's finances.  An
attentive assistant wrapped the gift and, dropping it into a small bag,
handed it to the excited child, who now turned his attention to selecting a
present for his father.  This task proved to be more difficult and Julian
and Martha searched the cabinets for sometime before the boy's eyes were
drawn to a glass counter where, displayed beneath a gilt-edged poster which
proclaimed 'For the Superman in Your Life', there rested a gold watch with
a tiny replica of Superman's famous 'S-Shield' embossed in silver on the
watch face.  Immediately Julian's mind settled on the timepiece.  Superman
was his hero and the boy could think of no better compliment than to bestow
on his father a gift bearing the hero's crest.  A bemused Martha could only
stare open mouthed as Julian swiftly enquired if there was enough money
left to cover the purchase and when he received a blank nod he proudly
instructed the salesclerk to gift wrap the watch.  The older woman pondered
the question of whether she ought to persuade Julian to choose another
gift, but seeing his glowing face as he accepted the package, she hadn't
the heart to suggest that this was not an appropriate present for Clark.
Besides, her sense of humour relished the irony and she couldn't wait to
see her son's face when the gift was unwrapped.
     Their purchases made successfully, Julian happily discovered that he
had a small amount of money leftover so he proposed that they find a cafe
where he could thank his grandma for her assistance by treating her to her
favourite coffee and danish.  Hand in hand they left the jewellery store
and crossed the mall to a festively hung coffee house pleasantly unaware
that their movements were being carefully tracked by a pair of ice-cold,
angry eyes.
     Christmas was not a religious festival that was celebrated by those of
the Muslim faith yet Umar ibn Said's current and beautiful mistress would
expect nothing less than diamonds and, as money was not a problem to the
enigmatic billionaire, he had chosen to indulge her desires, this time.  He
was not foolish enough to believe that he and the blond-haired, desirable
woman shared a deep or meaningful relationship, rather each used the other
to assuage their disparate needs.  For the present he required the cover
that an association with a white female provided and she enjoyed the
prestige that being known as his 'girlfriend' supplied, hoping that it
would aid her in her dream of breaking into the movie business.
Unfortunately, although the female was a highly successful supermodel, she
was sadly lacking in acting talent and not even his vast wealth could help
her to attain her goal, but that was not a concern for ibn Said.  He used
her body in more ways than one and though his traitorous sexual desires
were satisfied by her ministrations his mind and soul cringed at each
encounter.
     No one in the western world knew of his true origins or of the hatred
that blazed, hidden deep in his heart for the Caucasian races.  How could
these unbelievers understand the hardships and the horrors that he had
witnessed whilst growing up in a country that was held in a stranglehold of
isolation by the rest of the world?  Some years previously the U N had
declared sanctions against his homeland that had effectively cut them off
from their traders and their foreign investments, leaving them to struggle
alone in an ever-mounting morass caused by a state of siege.  And all
because his countrymen remained staunchly loyal to their chosen leader and
followed faithfully the one true religion.  Over the years his people
continued to fight to produce enough food within their own borders but, due
to unnatural weather conditions and the lack of fertilizers to enhance the
parched soil, there were never sufficient supplies to go round.  So they
survived in a perpetual state of almost tolerable hunger.  But when disease
hit the population as it had just a few short months ago, its weakest
members, the very old and the younger children, none of whom had enough
stamina to ward off the ravages of sickness, died by the thousands.  Of
course the pious self-righteous member states of the United Nations had
decreed that both medical and essential food supplies should be exempt from
the embargo.  A more than useless resolution as they had not taken into
account the avaricious traders who wholly took advantage of an opportunity
to swell their bank accounts at the expense of a nation who had no venue in
which to air its grievances. His countrymen were forced to accept the poor
quality grain that eventually arrived at their ports and more disastrously
the medicine that was bought and paid for, but which frequently was never
delivered.  While the rest of the world went successfully about their lives
so ibn Said's compatriots continued to suffer and die.
     The brown-skinned, elegantly dressed man followed the two objects of
his study into the busy cafe and, finding an empty table in an obscure
corner beneath a tall fern-like plant, continued unobtrusively to survey
his quarry.  He had recognised at once the small boy who during the summer
had been the focus of the western world's media while the stories of his
aristocratic grandfather's abduction crimes and subsequent death filled
every newspaper and T V screen.  As ibn Said's gaze remained glued to the
hereditary 14th Viscount Sheringham the watcher recalled in detail the
follow-up news report that the child had returned to Metropolis with the
couple who had rescued the young nobleman and that the very rich orphan had
in fact been adopted by the said couple; the renowned reporting team of
Lane & Kent.
     Clearly the child was thriving in his new environment if his
unconcerned gaily chatter were any measure of his well-being and the
elderly woman by his side was obviously besotted.  Why was it that the
fates should decree that one child should be so fortunate in his life while
others were consigned to a life of heartache and death?  The fair-haired
youngster would be of a similar age to his own nephew Kali.  Then he
corrected his musings, the age that Kali would have been if he had lived.
The latest covert report from his homeland had contained a personal and
heartrending missive, one that informed him of the death of his oldest
brother's child.  The poor boy was amongst those who had died of the
devastating virus that had swept through his land in recent months.  A
simple influenza virus that in this modern world with its range of
antibiotic drugs should have never taken a life, had killed so many and
left the broken families behind to grieve.  Ibn Said's hand tightened
around the coffee cup as he thought of his small nephew who had been a
happy, healthy toddler when he had been sent from his country.
     His emotions in a turmoil of sadness and anger, ibn Said let his mind
wander back over the years to that far-off monumental decision that had
formed his life and created his alter-ego of successful businessman and
billionaire playboy.  In the old country his family's standing was one of
wealth and considerable prominence, but more consequentially his elder
brothers were important members of an imperious and devoutly religious sect
'The Hand of Retribution'.  It had been this faction which had been
instrumental in the placing of their president on his seat of power and of
keeping him there in the face of the battles and the worldwide opposition
that had followed.  After the monumental and vastly humiliating defeat at
the hands of the unbelievers, the circle concluded that fighting the
infidels in open battle was futile and that the only option left to them in
their war to convert the world to the rightful path of Allah was one of
covert action.  Terrorist groups were distributed about the world to create
death and destruction and though they had been initially successful, as
worldwide security was tightened, more and more of their 'pods' were being
apprehended and imprisoned.  Recently their only successes had been in
suicide missions, though death in the service of Allah was a welcome fate.
 More regrettably, never yet had they succeeded in assaulting the arrogant
Americans in their home country.  For that reason, a number of years ago,
the ultimate plan was conceived and Umar ibn Said was created.  Originally
the young man had not wanted to abandon his family and country to their
sorry fate, especially since his proposed life would be one of luxury and
comfort, but finally he had been persuaded that he was the chosen weapon of
Allah with which the faithful would humble the high and mighty Americans
and their allies the British who had long been an enemy of the Arab nations
since the days of the Empire when they had sought to rule their land.
Assenting to the intricate, long-term plot the young Muslim had been
smuggled into a neighbouring country whose close ties with the West could
be manipulated to assist the cause of 'The Hand' and with the help of the
local clandestine group the persona of Umar ibn Said was created, complete
with birth certificates, passports and pedigree.  In the ensuing years
aided by the advice and financial backing of the all-powerful clique,
coupled with his own talents and ambitions, Umar had been incredibly
successful, much more than his patrons had ever dreamed.  As his power and
wealth increased and his decision to ingratiate himself with his enemies
made him a popular confidant of the West, the information he had been able
to supply and the cover he had been able to provide his fellow partisans
had led to the fulfilment of many mass killings.  The time for his warriors
to strike at the heartland of America was fast approaching and the
nefarious plan that was even now taking shape in his vengeful mind would
soon strike terror at the heart of this country and make its people weep
just as his countrymen did as they stood by helplessly and watched their
offspring die.  Suffer the little children.............
     Meanwhile there was much preparation to be done to ensure the success
of this ultimate mission and he would need a liaison between himself and
the undercover group of terrorists who were awaiting his call to arms.  He
quickly paid his tab and exited the cafe, passing the objects of his long
vigil who were completely oblivious of his attentions, and hurried to his
penthouse residence (he would never refer to it as his home) where he
immediately contacted his masters and laid before them his future design
which was approved, as he had expected, with great acclaim.

                                                             *****

     The next evening at the Lexor Metropolis Hotel, Umar attended the
annual  'Man of the Year' dinner.  The Hotel was the city's finest and had
been built over a decade ago by one of Metropolis' greatest sons, Lex
Luthor, who it had transpired was also one of America's greatest rogues,
having reached the pinnacle of his power by employing every devious and
murderous subterfuge that was known to man.  After a number of years of
reigning supreme at the top of Metropolis' V I P list, his empire had been
finally destroyed by the skill and tenacity of Lane and Kent and the man
himself had been killed during an attempt to kidnap Lois Lane.  Over the
years various endeavours to recreate the Luthor Empire, usually by a member
of his family, had been tried and thwarted by the same investigative team,
with the help of their friend Superman.  Despite the infamous connotations,
the present owners had chosen to retain the name of the Lexor, mainly
because the name was synonymous with luxury and style, and partly because
native Metropolitans and visitors were still intrigued by the memory of the
long-dead anti-hero.  Umar was certainly one of this number and although
the man had not been a member of the true faith, he had sought to emulate
Luthor's career and with the fulfilment of his revenge, those who had
brought down Lex would be themselves destroyed.
     Now the prestigious award banquet was taking place in the hotel's
sumptuous dining room which had been set out with a large array of tables,
each one occupied by the rich and influential citizens of Metropolis.
Later, when the accolade had finally been bestowed, the great mirrored
doors on the east wall of the room would be drawn back and the guests would
spill into the ballroom to enjoy an evening of dancing and celebration.
This year the award was surprisingly but thankfully not granted to
Superman, perhaps because the citizens of Metropolis were at last becoming
blasi about the exploits of the super hero or more likely because lately,
for some reason as yet unknown to the public, the Man of Steel had assumed
a lower profile.  Because of this, there was a greater air of anticipation
amongst the invited throng.  The field, of course, had been narrowed to the
four nominees, but the competition was fierce and each of the chosen was
accompanied by his own supporters, lending a more partisan ambience to
the proceedings than in previous years.
      Sitting at a table with some other members of the business community
whom he falsely declared his friends, his glamorous woman by his side
decked out in the diamond necklace and bracelet he had purchased the
previous afternoon, his eyes alighted on a neighbouring table where the
contingent from the Daily Planet sat, waiting in optimistic expectation of
their editor Perry White being installed as Metropolis' Man of the Year.
The staff of the paper were pleased and excited by the anticipated award
that at last recognised the wily newsman's contribution to apprising the
city residents of the facts and the truth behind many news-worthy stories
and scandals.  Perry White had long been acclaimed by his contemporaries so
it was good to know that the general public now acknowledged his hard work
and dedication to the truth.  Sadly, Perry had been injured in a traffic
accident just a few days ago and was unable to attend the banquet, but his
stand-in editors were here to accept the prize in his name, should he be
nominated as the winner.  Lois and Clark were looking extremely handsome
and relaxed this evening, enjoying the company of their colleagues.  As
neither of them were the actual recipients of the award, there was no
reason for them to suffer pangs of apprehension and unknown to any other
member of the audience except his wife Clark was well practised in
accepting this particular award, though in the persona of his alternate
self.
     Dinner, which had been surprisingly good, was now over and the
compulsory meet-and-greet hour began, where guests mingled and renewed old
friendships and acquaintanceships and hopefully founded new ones.  It was
during this time that Lois found herself alone in the crowded room, her
husband having been snagged by an old friend, Grant Gandell, and the two
were now deep into a conversations about the 'Bills'.  To tell the truth
Lois was not really having a good time.  This was not the kind of occasion
that she enjoyed, not that she didn't enjoy award ceremonies; the Kerths
were fantastic and not only because she or her husband, or jointly,
frequently won the investigative journalist category.  No, at the Kerths
she was amongst her own people and even those she didn't particularly care
for at least shared her interest in the newspaper business.  Here she was
surrounded by strangers and though Lois Lane was a prize-winning newswoman,
a loving and supportive wife and mother, while adrift in a sea of unknown
faces who smiled politely, yet she surmised artificially, her deeply
ingrained insecurities rose to the surface.  Besides, purely on principal,
Lois felt an antipathy for 'The Man of the Year' award.  It was just too
sexist to suit her independent feminist personality.  Lois hypothesized
that she might not object so strongly if it had been reconstituted as
Metropolis' Person of the Year and considered women in the nominations for
the accolade.  Indeed, if she had not been asked to act as Perry's proxy,
she would have given the affair a wide berth.  Lost in her musings, she did
not notice the expensively jewelled woman attempt to negotiate around her
in the pressing throng and she started in fright as her arm was jostled and
the contents of her champagne glass spilled onto her dress.  Her eyes
immediately flew to her husband who on hearing his wife's gasp of shock
turned swiftly towards her, ready to rescue her if she was in danger.  Lois
gave an almost imperceptive shake of her head and directed her gaze
downwards to the skirt of her dress where the champagne had left a
trickling trail as it heeded the laws of gravity and Clark, after sending
her a small commiserating smile, returned to his conversation.  Meanwhile
the woman was vocal in her apologies as she fished some tissues from her
beaded evening purse and began dabbing at the champagne traces.
     "I am so sorry.  I am really such a klutz."  She smiled in contrition
at Lois as she continued to wipe at the wet mark.  "I don't think it will
stain, but I'm afraid it must feel very damp and sticky.  Perhaps we could
pay a visit to the cloakroom and the attendant could have the laundry room
fix that for us."
     Studying the penitent face that stared up at her from the woman's
crouched position on the floor, Lois decided that she really didn't like
what she saw.  The strikingly beautiful face was framed by a fall of sleek
blond hair, which lay like velvet against bared shoulders and the green
eyes that returned her stare were openly candid though at the moment
slightly rueful.  There really was nothing in this stranger's demeanour
that Lois could take exception to and yet she felt strangely threatened.
Perhaps it was the shimmering beaded dress that clung so precariously to
the body it sheathed, or the glittering jewels that the woman wore with
such confidence, that caused the alarm bells in Lois' brain to ring.  Which
was all pretty crazy, Lois told her inner-self.  She was in the middle of a
crowded ballroom and this person had accidentally spilled some wine down
her dress and was now acting very contritely and trying to set matters
aright.  What could possibly be wrong?  Lois forced her suspicions to the
back of her mind and set to answering the woman's suggestion.
     "No really, there's no need.  I'm sure that you're right and that
there will be so stain," she  looked down at her burgundy-coloured dress.
"And besides, in the heat of this room the damp spot will soon dry."  Lois
did not add the information that she had a very handy husband who could
help her with that problem.
     "Well, I'd agree with you there.  It definitely is over warm in here.
I think it might be due to all the hot air that is being spouted."  The
unknown female rose to her feet and laughed as she gestured round the room
at all the gossiping guests.
     Lois could not repress a grin.  She concurred wholeheartedly with that
thought.  Maybe her first impressions of this woman had been a little
extreme, especially when she heard the next statement.
     "I don't know about you, but this whole male bonding scenario makes me
a little uncomfortable."
     "I feel exactly the same way," Lois agreed.  "To tell you the truth,
ordinarily I would steer clear of these affairs, but I'm here to accept an
award on behalf of a friend, if he should win."
      "Perry White, the Daily Planet editor, yes I know.  He is an
acquaintance of a friend of mine, who holds him in high esteem," the
blond-haired beauty confided.  "And you are Lois Lane.  Although we've
never met I
am a great fan of your writing.  And the fact that you have reached the
top in an extremely male-dominated field fills me with admiration."
     Sycophancy had never impressed Lois Lane, but the woman's praises
seemed genuine and her latter statement was certainly true.  During her
internship at the Planet and even in the subsequent years Lois had to fight
tooth and nail to gain the recognition that her talents so richly deserved.
 So often in her life she had been passed over in favour of her male
counterparts and by those too who where her nearest and dearest.
Fortunately for the sake of her career and her sanity, Perry White was not
concerned whether his staff wore skirts or pants, just that they should get
the job done to the best of their abilities and the astute editor had
quickly learned to appreciate Lois' skills.  Under his editorship, Lois had
quickly mounted her chosen career ladder, but getting in on the bottom rung
had not been easy.  This woman's empathetic comment reached through the
barriers of reserve that Lois had never wholly abandoned.  Because of this,
she found herself responding in more friendly terms.
     "Thank you for your compliments.  You don't know the half of it.
Thankfully male dominance in the work place seems to be decreasing,
although this shindig is a bastion of male chauvinism."  Lois' words were
said less fiercely than once they had been.  Years of being in a
relationship with a partner who treated her with equality in all walks of
life had mellowed her views on the male species.  And indeed, the
particular male in question had really no equal here on Earth.  Yet never
since she had known him had he belittled her or made her feel less than she
was, except perhaps that one time long ago when he had been perfectly
justified in humbling her and in doing so had gained the respect that she
was very meagrely in bestowing.
     "I'm glad that I'm not the only female here who is less than
impressed," the stranger continued as she offered her hand to Lois.  "I'm
Paula Raine.  I'm a model.  Perhaps you've seen my photographs in one
magazine or two."  This last was spoken with a self-depreciating laugh.
     "I'd have to have been living on Mars to have missed them," Lois
admitted with an answering grin, at the name she was finally able to place
just where previously she had seen this face.   She was beginning to enjoy
her meeting with the gorgeous Paula, which only proved that first
impressions were not always reliable, when the two women were joined by one
of the most handsome men that Lois had ever beheld, and Lois was a harsh
judge being married to an extremely gorgeous man.
     "There you are, Paula.  I've been looking all over for you."  The
Adonis took hold of Paula's hand and raised it to his lips and the look he
sent her was close to reverential.  "I missed you," he finished simply and
sexily.
     "Umar!"  The blond woman almost melted under his warm gaze.  "I was on
my way back to you when I'm afraid I clumsily spilled this lady's drink.
We've been attempting to repair the damage.  Lois, I would like you to meet
my friend, Umar ibn Said" there was a slight emphasise on the word
'friend', as if Paula was declaring her possession of this desirable male
and warding off possible rivals, "Umar, this is Lois Lane, she works for
the Daily Planet."
     "Of course she does.  I recognise you from your pictures. 'Lane and
Kent', the Planet's star reporters."  Ibn Said held out a hand to Lois and
when she offered hers he took it in a firm yet friendly shake.  "In my
humble opinion the Planet is the best newspaper in America, perhaps in the
world, although I do share an affinity with the top English journals.  I
also consider that the Planet owes much of its success to the endeavours of
yourself and your husband and the sterling editorship of Mr White.  And I'm
very hopeful that tonight he will be rewarded for all his brilliant work."
     "Didn't I say that I had a friend who was a firm supporter of Mr
White?"
     "Mr White has the good fortune to have such excellent staff," the
handsome Arab spoke with mock admiration, which made it difficult for him
to force the words passed the bile that rose in his throat.  Normally he
was so practised at his deception that the lies came easily and swiftly to
his lips.  For instance, he had little trouble in persuading Paula that he
held her in high esteem, but then he understood Paula and she plied a
trade, that for all the influences of the western world, was involved in
the gratification of the male of the species.  This Lois Lane worked in a
man's world and even held a position that ought to have been filled by a
member of the dominant gender.  The teachings of his religion made it clear
that women were the chattels of men and this woman would be better employed
taking care of her husband and children.  Umar's contempt spilled over to
this female's husband who would allow her this amount of freedom.  Clearly
he was a weak individual who had no right to his manhood.  His mental
reasoning was interrupted by the Master of Ceremonies calling the audience
to order.  The time of anticipation was over and the recipient of the
accolade was now to be announced.  In the ensuing scramble as the guests
hurriedly returned to their places, Lois said her goodbyes to her new
acquaintances and echoed Paula's hope that they would meet up after the
presentations.  If Lois had only heard the words that the woman whispered
to her escort as they made their way back to their table, she would not
have felt so sanguine.
     "How did I do?"  Paula stared into the almost black eyes of ibn Said.
"And why were you so desirous of meeting Lois Lane?  You 're not growing
tired of me?"  This last was spoken with a certain amount of trepidation.
Her association with Umar was very important in the continuation of her
career.  "Besides, from all I've heard Lois is a happily married woman.  So
if your interest is beginning to wander, I suggest you search elsewhere."
     "Don't be afraid, my jewel.  My tastes do not run to brunettes or for
that matter to older women.  My silver-haired temptress is still my only
desire."  Yet for all his assurances he did  not divulge his cause for the
staged incident with Ms Lane.

     Perry White duly became Metropolis' Man of the Year and Lois and Clark
graciously accepted the award.  The choice proved to be extremely popular
as throughout the ball the couple received many congratulations which they
promised to pass on to their editor.
     Sometime later in the night, having just concluded a slow dance on the
crowded ballroom floor, the Kents found themselves standing by Paula and
Umar.  At first, Lois, lost in the warmth of her husband's embrace, did not
recognise the couple next to them, until Paula stretched out an arm and
tapped her shoulder.  Dragged from her reverie, Lois at once renewed the
acquaintance and introduced Clark to her new friends.  Surprisingly, the
two diverse couples hit it off.  Clark admired the blond woman's good
looks, but not excessively so, and more importantly he enjoyed her wry
sense of humour, that same quality that Lois had begun to perceive and
appreciate earlier.  Paula's companion was less easily defined, yet as the
couples continued their conversation back at the Planet's table, Lois and
Clark were pleased to discover that ibn Said shared that streak of the
ridiculous and was far more down to earth than they would have supposed for
a man of his enormous wealth.  Both the Kents recalled with distaste the
grandiose ambitions of a similar multi-billionaire that had almost led to
their destruction, but there seemed no similarities in the Arabian's
character.   Unlike Lex, this man held no secrets about the source of his
wealth.  As he had explained in many news articles, his riches lay in the
soil of his country, the black gold which was still stored in abundance
beneath his homeland.  He was the chosen ambassador of his family; his
country's main contact with the western world's business and financial
centres.  And though at the outset of his almost exile, when he had been
sent to university in Oxford, England, he had found the people and customs
of this world extremely perplexing, he had acclimatised and soon learned to
value its relaxed lifestyle and its freedoms.  So much so that on the short
occasions when he returned home he found the devoutly regulated traditions
too constricting and anticipated with pleasure his return to these shores.
Umar had not wholly renounced his faith but exposure to other cultures had
bred in him a more lax and tolerant view.  All this was in fact the false
resume that had been publicised to the western press and never before
tonight was it so important that it be believed.
     Watching closely the couple he had chosen to befriend, he could
discern no obvious
signs that they doubted his forthrightness.  By the end of the evening the
Kents had accepted an invitation to attend ibn Said's New Year Ball.  Of
course, they would first have to put in an appearance at the Planet's
celebrations, but they would be more than happy to join their new friends
later.  Umar enquired what arrangements Lois and Clark made for their
children (he had read somewhere that the couple were blessed with quite a
brood) on these occasions and was assured that the children's grandparents
were only too happy to babysit.  Then too the school which the children
attended were holding a party for the kids the next day, so that parents
who were perhaps recovering from the festivities would be able to do so
without the added challenge of supervising energetic youngsters.  Both Lois
and Clark were touched by the man's concern and totally believed his
explanation that in Islamic culture children were held in high importance
and that he was happy to note that the Kents clearly thought the world of
their children, a circumstance that was sadly not always the norm in the U
S.  Too many children, in this Arab's opinion, were what was commonly known
as 'latch-key kids' in this thoroughly modern nation.  It was sorrowfully
the one aspect of his adopted country which he had never come to accept.
When the couples parted at the end of the evening's merriment, they found
themselves in so much accord that they both looked forward to furthering
the acquaintance.

                                                              *****

      It had been quite a hectic Christmas Eve for Lois and Clark  having
four very excited youngsters to contend with and having to prepare for the
family reunion of the next day.  The children and their parents had enjoyed
a carry-out dinner, but this time from the Chinese restaurant down the
street from the Planet building, which the couple had picked up on their
way home.  Unfortunately but as normal, they had left their work later than
planned.  The annual Christmas party had run much longer than intended and
both Lois and Clark felt that in their temporary roles as editors, they
ought to outstay the rest of their staff, but eventually they had installed
a rather inebriated Ralph, the last worker to leave, into a taxi and
instructed the driver to take the now very sleepy reporter home, wondering
just what sort of reception the tipsy reporter would receive from his wife
and mother.  It was a never-ending yet ironic puzzle to all his co-workers
that the once self-professed womaniser would end up married to a harpy of a
woman who browbeat him almost as much as his mother.  Lois and Clark had
exchanged amused glances as they anticipated the scene awaiting Ralph, then
hand in hand they had returned to the car park to find their Jeep (not, of
course, the original, but Lois could never bring herself to buy another
model and besides the Jeep provided lots of room for a large family) and
had driven to fetch their children who were staying for the day at their
Lane grandparents, Martha and Jonathan having taken time out from their
usual child-minding routine to finish off their own gift shopping.
     After dinner the family had wrapped up well, the night being
particularly cold with a promise of snow in the air, and walked the short
distance to the nearby park to join an outdoor carol concert.  Joel had
protested to his mother as she had tied a scarf round his neck that he
didn't feel the cold.  This was probably another manifestation of the boy's
escalating powers, his father too was oblivious to changes in temperature,
however to maintain his cover Clark had always dressed according to the
weather and Lois, ignoring her son's protest, surreptitiously pointed this
out.  At last dressed to their mother's satisfaction, the children spilled
out of the house and hurried down to the park where the trees were strung
with coloured lights and a stage had been erected for an orchestra and
choir.  The concert was already underway and the beautiful carols were
filling the night as the audience sang with those on the stage.  Numbers of
vendors had set up their stalls and during the evening Lois and Clark
relented to the requests of their children and bought them tempting snacks,
including hot dogs and candy and, as they sipped at their own hot coffee,
each silently prayed that tonight not one of the children would suffer the
consequences of the varied contents of their stomachs mixed with a large
dose of exuberance.
     While they were strolling along the paths perusing the booths, they
heard their names called and turned around to find a warmly clothed couple
walking towards them.
     "Paula!  Umar!  This is a surprise."   And indeed it was.  These two
were the last people Lois had thought to find at a local Christmas
festival.
     "Not the sort of thing that you thought we would enjoy, eh?"  Paula
asked, her blond hair covered by a dark wine velvet hood, which joined an
ankle-length coat trimmed with sleekly black fur.  This woman managed to
dress immaculately where ever she went.  Lois looked down over her own
serviceable wear and tried to fight off a feeling of dowdiness.  Normally
Lois was a very stylish lady, but in the company of her family both she and
her husband liked to relax in less formal attire than was required for
their work.  Now confronting this couple who appeared to have stepped from
the pages of a style magazine, she felt unsure.  Help was at hand from an
unexpected source.
     "Is that real fur?!" Clara, who had moved closer to her mother's side,
inquired with a heavy measure of disgust.
     "Oh no!"  The lovely lady also appeared to share the girl's
sentiments.  "I could never wear real fur.  Believe me.  And fake fur looks
just like the real thing."
     Starting to nod her head sagely Clara decided to smile upon this
vision who seemed to be a friend of her Mom and Dad and as the 'fur' in
question was held out for her inspection she stretched out her had and ran
her fingers through its softness.
     "Feels real too," she declared.
     Clark, deeming that his daughter had investigated quite enough, pulled
her hand into his.
         "It's nice to meet you again.  Please forgive my daughter's
forthrightness, but she's a firm believer in animal rights."   As he spoke,
he smiled with his remarkable combination of apology and admiration and
once again Clara bridled.  She tolerated that special look when bestowed on
only two other females, neither of whom was this woman.  Her small hand
slipped into that of her mother's in a gesture of support, while her father
continued talking.   "We didn't expect to meet you here."
     "Did you think that the entertainment might be too unsophisticated for
our tastes?"  Paula grinned back teasingly, the question disconcerting
Clark somewhat.  "I may live in Metropolis and work in a supposedly
glamourous profession, but believe me, my roots are firmly in Kansas."
     This announcement caused Clark's mouth to drop in astonishment.  "You
originate from Kansas?  Which part?"
     "Brookersfield."
     "Which is near Smallville?"  Lois commented and received an
affirmative nod of the head from both Clark and Paula who were regarding
each other with the new warmth of near neighbours.  The unease that had
assailed Lois on first meeting this woman returned with added force.  There
were just too many coincidences.
     Until this moment ibn Said had been standing quietly in the
background, now he came forward, "Smallville?"  He asked.
     "Clark's hometown," Lois explained.
     "Who would have thought?"  Paula was still smiling benignly on Clark.
     "Exactly!!"  The response came from two female Kent voices which
brought Clark's attention back to his wife and daughter.  His eyebrows rose
questioningly when he recognised the note of scepticism in the twin tones.
     "That makes you fellow exiles," Umar supplied happily, but his
thoughts were troubled, sensing the suspicion in Lois and Clara.  Since his
interest had first been drawn to the boy and in turn to the family who had
adopted him, ibn Said had conducted some research into their backgrounds,
which had not been difficult as Lane and Kent were quite prominent citizens
of Metropolis.  On discovering that Kent was raised in Kansas he had felt
the rightness of his chosen quest, as his mistress too had begun life in a
small farmland community.  When he had made the decision to get close to
the couple, he had considered the tenuous link between Paula and Clark Kent
to be an added bonus.   Now, witnessing Lois' reaction to that revelation,
he was not so certain of his assumption.  He had not considered that
jealousy might be a particular trait of the reporter, but then according to
his research she had not formerly had cause.  The pair appeared to be
extraordinarily close, both in their professional and private lives.
     "How cosy!"  Lois' voice dripped with sarcasm as she returned her
husband's questioning look with one of her own.  Umar was correct in his
assumption, though wrong in his reasoning.  The annoyance Lois was
experiencing was prompted by a distrust of coincidence.   In the past,
those who introduced a kinship, however minimal, with her family frequently
had ulterior motives.  Clark, being a more trusting soul, would prefer to
give Paula  the benefit of the doubt.  Sensing the hidden currents that
were flowing between the couple, Umar sought to repair the damage.
     "Still, Paula, as you told me that you moved from Kansas when you were
five years old, I hardly think that qualifies you as a farm kid."
     "Well, they do say that a child's informative years have a great
influence on the adult they will become."  Clark stepped in to defend his
new-found compatriot.
     "In that case," Paula's eyes drifted over the children who clung
closely around their parents.  "Your kids will grow into wonderful adults.
You have such lovely children, Lois.  You don't know how much I envy you."
A wistful smile sparkled in her almost emerald eyes and Lois' emotions went
on a roller coaster ride.  Only a moment before her reporter's instincts
had been screaming at her to beware, now she completely believed in the
sincerity of the blond beauty's sentiments.  Nevertheless, Lois was not
about to ignore her instincts.  They had served her too well.  When they
returned to work after the holidays, she determined to ask Stephan Janik to
do a little investigating into Paula Raine's background.  Of course, she
would have to warn the young assistant not to let Clark find out about her
request.  Her husband was still far too trusting for his own good.
     "They do seem to be on their best behaviour, for the moment," she
answered brightly.  "But, believe me, there are times when being a mother
is not a particularly enviable position.  Especially a working mom, though
I am very fortunate in my in-laws.  They are our greatest support and we
couldn't manage our lives without them.  Perhaps someday you both will
experience the joys of parenthood. " And Lois gazed enquiringly at the man
and woman before her.
     "Perhaps," Umar spoke dismissively.  One day he hoped to have
children, but the prospect of begetting a child with an infidel filled him
with disgust.  He determined to finish this speculative conversation and
proceed with his machinations.  Turning his attention to the children, he
queried.  "Have you visited the funfair yet?"  And when the children shook
their heads.  "May we Clark?  It will be my treat."
     The children jumped about expectantly, eagerly adding their entreaties
to that of Umar.
     "It's getting late, but I think we have some time to spare."  Clark's
permission was greeted with shouts of excitement and they all headed off in
the direction of the music and the lights of the fair.  The group spent a
harmonious  hour sampling the rides and trying to win numerous stuffed toys
at the side shows.  The youngsters' joy and exhilaration of Christmas Eve,
being highly contagious, enthused the adults with childlike energy.  Lois
and Clark were accustomed to the thrill but for Paula and Umar it was
uncharted territory, which unexpectedly they both found themselves
savouring.  For a short moment the Muslim experienced regret that his plan
would destroy this family's happiness forever, then he remembered his own
kin and the numbing sorrow from which they were still suffering.  A sorrow
that was all too common in his homeland.  He reminded himself that he was
the chosen one, the instrument to punish this evil country for the horrors
they had perpetrated on his people.  To carry out his 'fatwa' he would have
to be strong, to strip himself of all warmth and emotion, to become a
weapon for the 'Hand of Retribution'.
     Eventually even the ebullient kids began to weary and it was
time to take the children home.  Again the Kents parted from the
fashionable pair with amiable warmth.  Surprisingly, the more time Lois and
Clark spent with the unusual duo the more their fledgling relationship
seemed to bloom.  It was unexpected, but it was also satisfying.  Since
their nightmare experience with Bob and Carol when they had been
newlyweds, both Lois and Clark had tended to withhold committing themselves
to a close companionship, preferring to enjoy the company of those in whom
they could completely trust.  As a result, the number of those they counted
as friends was small, though that was more than compensated for by the
depth of those friendships.  Presently, although Lois' feelings for the
supermodel and consequently her boyfriend were ambivalent, they were
clearly well down the path towards adding to that sparse list.   On parting
they all exchanged best wishes for the holiday, the children, in their
merry mood, even accepting hugs from the silver-haired lady and Lois and
Clark reaffirming their assignation for the New Year party.

                                                               *****

     Back in Hyperion Avenue tension was mounting as four hyped-up kids
were persuaded to ready themselves for bed.  They quickly assured their
parents that they wouldn't sleep a wink.  However their protests fell on
deaf ears and Clark sternly escorted each one upstairs to bathe Nathan and
dress him in his night clothes and oversee the other's bath-time.
Listening to the noisy splashes and squeals emanating from the main
bathroom, Lois discerned that it would be quite some time before Clark
could restore order and join her in the household cleaning.  She wistfully
let her thoughts drift back to previous years when a small application of
superspeed had hurried  bath-time along, but with Julian's presence that
opportunity was out of the question.  It had been the one very minuscule
downside to taking the orphaned boy into their family and Lois now regarded
the adoption as one of the best things that she and Clark had ever achieved
together.  With a sexy grin she reflected that Superman would be available
when their children were asleep and not only to do the housework.
    Yet the children were no more cooperative even when dressed for bed.
Exhilaration mixed with increasing tiredness led to frayed tempers and a
threatened argument between the three elder children was quickly subdued by
their father ordering them to bed with the age-old declaration that Santa
did not visit the homes of naughty children.  This announcement silenced
the quarrel, not because they truthfully believed that they would miss out
on getting their presents, but because they seldom heard that adamant tone
of voice from their dad.  It was a tone that usually was reserved for
Superman and it brooked no disagreement. Four very chastened kids kissed
their parents goodnight and settled down to attempt to sleep, which
amazingly happened within a very short time.
     When Lois and Clark finally settled into bed, it was way after
midnight.  Nevertheless, the house was all tidied up and sparkling clean and
the turkey with the stuffing was prepared and the vegetables chopped, all
ready to be cooked later.  Martha was in charge of providing dessert and
Lois was hoping for something very chocolatey.  The most enjoyable part of
the preparations had been the placing of the numerous gifts beneath the
Christmas tree and both parents were anticipating the joy on their kids'
faces as they unwrapped their presents.  Laughingly Lois had suggested that
Clark should wear a Santa suit while stacking the piles of gaily wrapped
and beribboned boxes, but he rejected that request out-of-hand.  Barring a
complete catastrophe, Clark did not intend to don a suit of any colour in
the next twenty-four hours.  Now that their work for the night was done the
two snuggled close to each other beneath the quilt, content to just relax
into each others' arms, exchanging light lazy kisses, but Lois had
something on her mind and she decided to broach the subject before she
drifted off to sleep.
     "What do you think of our new friends, Clark?"
For a few moments there was silence as her husband tried to comprehend
where her obvious trepidation was coming from.
      "Well, Umar seems to be a straight-up guy.  Different from what I
expected of a multimillionaire oil sheik.  Unassuming...... more down to
earth."  He felt Lois' head nod against his chest in agreement of his
assessment of the man, yet he felt the tendons in her shoulders tighten at
his next words.  "And Paula is very beautiful."
     "You noticed that?"
     "Lois, I'd have to be blind or in my dotage not to notice.  She is
also intelligent, witty and seems a very nice person.  However, this
gentleman does not prefer blondes."  He began massaging the tension from her
shoulders as he lifted his head to stare into her upturned face.  "He has a
penchant for feisty brown-eyed brunettes."  Gazing deeply into the depths
of her lovely eyes, he wondered if Lois, even after all these years, could
seriously doubt his faithfulness or was there something more fundamental in
her distrust of Paula Raine.  He certainly appreciated his wife's gut
instincts for rooting out trouble, he had a fair share of those gut
instincts himself, but in this instance they were not showing any signs of
alert.  Whatever the cause, Lois was upset and he was quite willing, in
fact eager to allay her worries.  "Perhaps I should just show you on whom
my preference really falls."
    And Lois uttered a throaty chuckle as her husband's lips closed over
hers in a kiss that was neither light nor lazy.

                                                            *****

     Christmas day was a great success in the Kent household, from the
minute the four children had wakened their mom and dad with the dawn;
through the early arrival of the grandparents when everyone had excitedly
opened their gifts; through the consuming of the remarkably appetising
meal, to the moment when they all went sleepily to their beds.  There had
been a slight glitch when Nathan had opened his present from his Lane
grandma and grandpa to reveal a gaudily painted Superman doll and the
little boy had consternated the couple by bursting into a fit of the
giggles.  His grandmother plainly could not understand what the cause of
the unrestrained laughter might be and as it could not be explained to her,
she chose to take umbrage at the child's disparaging behaviour, huffily
stating that most children of Nathan's age would be thrilled by the toy.
Fortunately for the peace of the day a distraction occurred in the arrival
of Clara's godparents, Bernard and Beth Klein.  Everyone was happy to see
that Beth was looking so much better since her contact with a terrible
poison during the summer.  Her return to full health had been a long and
painful process but at last she had regained her fitness and recently had
resumed her profession as a doctor.  In the greetings and well wishing that
followed Ellen allowed her ruffled feathers to be smoothed and was
gratified to see that her grandson, after his initial unexpected reaction,
refused to be separated from his doll and was seen to be surreptitiously
carrying on private conversations with the model of his hero throughout the
day.  Conversations that even the super hero, employing a little of his
eavesdropping skills could not understand.
     Both adults and youngsters thoroughly enjoyed their day which
culminated in a team game of Scrabble, one of Lois' favourite board games.
The adults divided themselves haphazardly into four teams with each team
partnering one of the children.  It wasn't the most serious or competitive
game that Lois had ever played and in fact ended up fairly hilariously as
the teams sought to outdo each other in the creation of new words. Finally
it all became a little too much for the youngest Kent and he ended up with
his head slipping very drowsily and a little tearfully onto his mother's
shoulder at which point Lois took him off to bed, the red and blue figure
still clutched tightly in his arms, while Clark cleared away the Scrabble
board and Martha and Ellen went to make supper for the rest of the party.
     Soon after supper, the guests excused themselves and, thanking Lois and
Clark for the lovely day, they made their way home, happy and tired.
Martha and Jonathan were however staying the night in the newly redecorated
guest bedroom, a room which had in past years, with the growing family,
become the boys' bedroom.  When first they had brought Julian back with
them to Metropolis, Lois and Clark had found themselves in a quandary.  The
bedroom was not big enough for three active boys and they had run out of
rooms.  It seemed that the only solution was for the family to move house,
yet Lois had fallen in love with her beautiful brownstone from the very
first and now it was full of warm comfortable memories which she would hate
to leave behind.  So instead, Clark had cleared out the attic and with the
help of his father, had installed some large skylight windows and created
two new bedrooms in the large roof space, one to be shared by Joel and
Julian and a second smaller room for Nathan.  The children were crazy about
their new domain and the abandoned bedroom was quickly redesigned for its
original purpose.
     Leaving Clark to tidy up the downstairs rooms, Martha and Lois took
the rest of the children to bed, a task which that night was accomplished
with unusual alacrity, all the children being particularly worn out from
their exuberance.  Afterwards, Lois accompanied her mother-in-law to the
guest bedroom but instead of leaving Martha by the door she ushered the
older woman inside and closed the door, there was something on her mind
that needed to be discussed, something that had occurred very early on in
the day at the present-opening ceremony, but which Lois had chosen to leave
until the two women were alone and would not be interrupted.  It was a
delicate subject and Lois chose her words carefully.
     "Martha, I'm assuming that Julian had your help in acquiring the gifts
he bought for Clark and me," Lois watched as her mother-in-law nodded in
agreement.  "Why would you do that?  Julian had already contributed his
pocket-money to the children's communal gift.  There was no need for him to
buy other gifts and such expensive ones too."
      Martha pulled Lois over to the bed and sat them both down.  Her
explanation would perhaps take a while and she sincerely hoped that the
younger woman would understand her motives.  "Yes Lois, there was every
need.  At least, Julian thought so.  And when he came to me and explained
how confused he was feeling, I couldn't refuse to help."
     "Confused?!  Martha, I don't understand.  I was sure that Julian was
happy with us."  Total bewilderment suffused Lois' face, mixed with a
twinge of fear.  Had she been so busy with her work and the Christmas
preparations that she had misread the state of Julian's mind?  Seeking to
allay her daughter's anxieties, Martha quickly took Lois' hand into her
own.
     "My dear, on the whole Julian is very happy and he loves you and
Clark very much, but lately he's been a little concerned with everything
that's been happening......... your insecurities about Christmas.........."
 Lois was about to deny that statement, but stayed silent as she
acknowledged the truth of Martha's insight.  "Your extra workload.  Not to
mention Superman's extra activities.  Julian did tell me that he tried to
confide in Clark, but the poor boy must have chosen a bad moment, because
Clark excused himself and hurried away, promising to talk later.  Of
course, later never materialized.  Now I know that the other kids
understand about Clark's swift exits and that they're used to your........
dislike of Christmas......"
     This time Lois could not hold back her objection, although she did
look rather sheepish.  "I don't dislike Christmas.  Well not 'actual'
Christmas......... just the crass commercialism.  In fact, I've come to
quite enjoy the holiday, at least the part I share with my family.  But I
might have been a touch preoccupied........"
    "Lois, Julian is a very sensitive child, who has known so little love
in his life.  Both you and Clark have changed all that, but it is very
early days and he is still fairly insecure about his right to be loved.
This is his first Christmas with us and he has no frame of reference, so he
automatically assumed that the downturn in atmosphere must have something
to do with his presence.  He thought that if he could show both you and
Clark how much he appreciated all you have done for him, then perhaps you
would be happy with him again."
     Lois was awash with feelings of guilt and familiarity as she
recognised the heartrending  emotions of self-doubt and frustration that
had beset her since the deterioration of her parents' relationship during
her childhood.  In truth she had never totally conquered these damaging
sentiments until the advent of Clark Kent in her life.  How could she have
let herself, albeit unintentionally, be responsible for engendering those
same emotions in another child?  The knowledge filled her with remorse, yet
nevertheless she was still uneasy about Martha's encouragement of the
child's corrective methods.
     "But buying his way back into our affections, Martha?  Whatever were
you thinking?  Even if it was necessary, which you well know it isn't."
Lois was in full babble-flow.  "That's not the way this family works."
     "I know that.  But Julian had his heart set on this course of action,
after all it's highly likely that's what he was accustomed to from his
grandfather.  Given time, I'm sure he'll come to realise that in this
family we value people much more than possessions.  And that's up to you
and Clark to teach him."  Martha was being perhaps a little more brutal
with her daughter-in-law than was usual, but she felt that, for Julian's
sake, both Lois and Clark should be made aware of the problem.  "Besides, I
thought that for the moment comforting Julian was more important than
considering your or Clark's sensibilities.  Mr Beckworth was quite
agreeable to forward us the money and they were *not* excessively expensive
gifts, when you consider how rich Julian is.  He chose both gifts, not I
might add because of their value, there were a lot more expensive ones on
offer, but because he thought they were right for you, and he was so
pleased with himself thinking how much you would like them."
     Lois accepted this mild castigation meekly, if Clark and she had been
too busy to notice their child's upset then they deserved to be chastised.
Martha was still holding her hand and was watching her intently for signs
that the famous Lane temper was about to blow.  She quickly set about
reassuring her mother-in-law.
     "I'm sorry Martha, you're right.  Julian's feelings are paramount here
and I'm ashamed that we were completely oblivious to the problem.  And it
is a beautiful cameo and I will always cherish it.......... but a Superman
watch..........?"
     "I did think to persuade Julian to change his mind about that, but his
heart was set.  He may not know the truth, but to him Clark is the 'super'
man in his life and it is a very 'tasteful' Superman watch........."  A
laugh was struggling to break through Martha's concerned expression and
seeing this Lois also started to giggle.
     "Clark's face was a picture when he unwrapped the gift and saw what
was inside.  Clara and Joel thought it was hilarious.  I felt sure they
were about to give the game away.  And Clark realises that unless he wants
to hurt Julian's feelings that he will have to wear the watch.  I never
thought that I'd see the day when Clark Kent would wear Kal-El's shield in
public.  Jimmy will just love it and no doubt will dash out and buy one."
     "He and no doubt a few thousand others.  I'm surprised that after all
he's seen of the world that Jimmy should still hero-worship Superman."
     "Well, we'll soon find out if that is still the case.  Jimmy and his
new wife arrive back home the day after tomorrow.  Clark and I haven't seen
him since before Nathan was born, except Superman did talk to him a few
months back when he went to help out rescuing the people trapped in the
bombed embassy in Africa.  Jimmy was there covering the story and they
shared a few words but things were chaotic and there wasn't much time for a
chat.  We've had some phone-calls and exchanged a few e-mails but we're
really looking forward to having him home and to meeting his bride."
     The two women were a lot more comfortable now that they had dealt with
the difficult question and they settled down to gossip cosily about their
young friend's marriage.
     "That was quite a surprise wedding.  I take it that he hadn't told
either of you beforehand?"
     "No, Martha.  We didn't even know that he had a girlfriend.  The first
we heard about Kiaya was when he phoned us directly after the marriage
ceremony."
     "And that was two days ago?"
     "That's right.  I'm still trying to come to terms with the fact that
Jimmy is married."  The sounds of disbelieve were evident in Lois' voice.
"Perhaps when we meet her it will seem more real."
      "Do you know much about her?" Martha's curiosity overcame her.
     "Not really.  It appears that he met her just a few days ago........ a
whirlwind courtship, so to speak.  But he tells us that she's beautiful and
wonderful and that they are in love.  I pray that he hasn't made a
mistake."  Lois was obviously concerned for one of her dearest friends.
     "Where is she from?"  Martha prompted, thinking that it would do Lois
good to air her apprehensions.
     "From Beirut, the Christian sector, I understand.  She was assigned to
Jimmy as an interpreter, when he was in that city for an interview or some
such thing.  According to Jimmy it was love at first sight and when they
approached the American Embassy it appeared  that she has some very
influential friends, because all the impediments to their marriage were
taken care of and their wedding took place the day before yesterday.  And
that is all that we know of the whole affair.  Still, it should be
interesting to find out more about Kiaya Olsen."

                                                             *****


     The airport on this post-Christmas day was teeming with commuters
arriving back home after the holidays or jetting out to their homes and
workplaces.  People pushed and pulled their bodies and their luggage carts
through the abounding crowds, hurriedly intent on reaching their proposed
destinations.  Amongst this sea of activity the Kent family stood close to
one of the solid square pillars that lined the large entrance hall as if
seeking an anchor in the stormy currents.  Whilst busy folks eddied around
them, Lois and Clark held the perimeter while the children sheltered in the
lea of the pillar's structure. The noise levels in the giant terminal were
almost unbearable, particularly if you had super hearing.  Clark being
accustomed to the uncomfortable consequences such raucous environments had
on his over-sensitive ears, simply tuned out the background noise, but poor
Joel, his powers still in the development stage, had not yet learned to cope
with the clangorous assault on his delicate eardrums and was quickly
developing a headache.
     Noticing his son's acute discomfort, Clark sent an informing glance
towards his wife then drew Joel off in the direction of the nearest men's
washroom.  This locality was also fairly busy but once locked into one of
the stalls with the door shut behind them the noise became vastly muted.
Clark squatted down in front of his son and spoke in hushed tones.
     "You have to try to shut out the surrounding noise, Joel and just
listen to the people closest to you.  I know it isn't easy, not at first,
but it does get better, believe me."
     Joel searched his father's face with troubled questioning eyes.  "It's
all happening too fast, Dad.  It's too much for me.  I want it to stop.
Please make it stop."
     Those feelings of desperation and terror Clark remembered oh so well
and he fervently wished that he could take all the pain from his son, but
that wasn't possible.  Joel had inherited his father's genes and the
process of creating a new super hero had begun.  Pulling the distraught
child into his arms for a comforting hug, Clark spoke soothingly.
     "I'm sorry son.  I can't do that, no one can.  But you won't always be
overwhelmed by the powers.  Pretty soon and with some help you'll be in
control.  Lately I've been pretty busy sorting out the city's holiday
problems, but things will soon be back to normal, whatever 'normal' means
for this family, and you and I will take sometime out to try to make you a
little more comfortable with your new skills."
     The young boy returned his father's hug with more strength than should
have been available to an eight-year-old, yet Superman hardly noticed.
"Promise me, Dad.  Promise me that you'll stay with me.  The powers don't
scare me half so much when you're here."
     Listening to the pleading note in Joel's voice, Clark was directly
attacked by a very guilty conscience.  He understood that over these past
weeks he had neglected his family, as the self-appointed guardian of
Metropolis he had little choice, but it pained him that Joel and, recalling
his conversation of yesterday with Lois, Julian were suffering because of
his lack of attention.  Of all of his jobs, being a father was proving the
most difficult, though he admitted contentedly, the most rewarding.
However, he and Joel could not remain locked in an airport toilet forever.
The people awaiting their turn outside might reach a totally wrong
conclusion.  Clark reached out for his boy's hand.
     "We have to get back to your mom now.  Uncle Jimmy's plane will be
arriving at any moment.  Just remember, try to concentrate on my voice and
forget about all the rest."
     Joel solemnly nodded his head in agreement, but as his father unlocked
the door he pulled back against the leading hand.  Clark tried to suppress
a fleeting exasperation.
     "Come on Joel.  We can't stay here.  It won't be so bad."
     "No Dad!!  I just need to go......... you know......."  And Joel
rolled his eyes towards the toilet bowl.
     "Oh!  O K !  I'll be right outside."  Sometimes being a father wasn't
so difficult.
     By the time the two returned to the group by the pillar, Lois
informed them that flight 511 from Cairo had arrived and the family made
their way to the announced arrival gate, through which, they hoped, it
would not be long before one of their oldest and dearest friends emerged.
 Lois could hardly contain her curiosity and although Clark was more level
headed than his wife he also felt a degree of inquisitiveness regarding
Jimmy's new bride.
     After a substantial period of time the now-famous freelance journalist
James Olsen came through the exit, a leaner, older and shorter-haired James
but still retaining the ready grin and mischievous sparkling eyes.  Leaving
the baggage cart behind, he quickly closed the intervening space and threw
his arms about Lois.
     "Lois Lane Kent!  It is so good to see you again after all this time.
And looking not a day older than when I saw you last."  Jimmy had stood
back from Lois and was regarding her with eyes that were blinking back
tears.
     "Quit the flattery Olsen," Lois tried to hide her own emotion behind a
tease.  "You obviously haven't noticed the grey hairs."
     "No!  Not a one," he spoke after a close study of his friend.
"Actually I thought to find those grey hairs in Clark's head after having
to put up with you for all these years."
     Jimmy found himself on the receiving end of a swift slap.
     "Oh, I see that you haven't mellowed a bit Lane," he laughed.  "However
do you put up with her, CK?"
     "Sometimes I'm not sure, but life with Lois does have its
compensations.  I'm glad you're home, Jimmy."
     Each man regarded the other for a moment; then, putting their
inhibitions aside, they enveloped each other in a bear hug.  These two had
been through so much in the past that they were almost as brothers.  This
time tears really did threaten to fall and to avert such an emotional scene
Jimmy turned to the expectant children.
     "Joel, Clara!  And all grown up too.  When I left, you were both just
little kids."  The children were smiling up into his face and he turned his
attention to the smallest.  "Hey, you must be Nathan.   We've never met,
but I'm looking forward to getting to know you.  What have you got there?"
Jimmy reached out and touched the figurine that Nathan clutched to his
chest.  "A Superman doll!  Hey, I'm a big fan of Superman's too."
     The toddler grinned back at his uncle.  If this new relation liked
Superman, then he had to be a good guy.  "Daddy got Supaman 'atch'."  Nathan
confided.
     "He has.  Well, I shall have to see that.  I bet that it's real
smooth."
     "Julan gived."  The little boy announced pointing to an older boy who
stood attentively beside Clara.  A boy whose fair head stood out starkly
amongst the dark-haired Kents.
     "Jimmy, this is our newest son, Julian Kent," Clark stated proudly.
"We found him when we were on vacation in England this summer and we all
liked him so much that we had to bring him home.   Fortunately, he quite
likes us too.  So we adopted him."
     "Good for you kid, though I take it that being part of this family is
pretty spooky.  There's never a dull moment when you're around Lois and
Clark."
     Julian grinned self-consciously, not quite knowing how to take this
ebullient stranger; however, he offered his hand courteously and was
gratified to have it accepted warmly, albeit with a twinkling eye.
     Lois watched the interaction between her friend and her children while
a warm and pleasant glow filled her whole being.  It was good to have Jimmy
home again, even if only for a short time.  Nevertheless, her rampant
inquisitiveness began tugging at her consciousness and she hurriedly looked
around for the source of her curiosity.  Standing a little way back and
almost hiding behind the piled luggage trolley, she spied a young woman of
Arab extraction.  Her first thought was that James Olsen must be clearly
smitten, as to describe this female as 'beautiful' was certainly an
exaggeration.  The girl was youthful with long black hair, pulled back into
a ponytail and her complexion was sallow.  Kiaya was slim, practically too
slim and her eyes reminded Lois of a startled fawn.  That last fact was not
in itself unexpected.  Metropolis during rush hour could confuse even a
hard-bitten reporter like herself and she had been born and raised in the
city.  Lois cleared her throat noisily to attract Jimmy's attention and
sent an encouraging smile in the nervous woman's direction.
     "Haven't you forgotten someone, Jimmy?" she reprimanded gently.
     "Hmmm?  Oh, yes!!"  Olsen turned shamefaced to his wife and stretched
out a beckoning hand.  "You can tell that my manners haven't improved much
over the years," he said apologetically.  "Kiaya, I'd like you to meet my
dearest friends, Lois and Clark Kent and their children."
     An expressive eyebrow was raised at this introduction.  Jimmy was well
aware that Lois still retained her Lane surname, but then she reflected
that perhaps Kiaya may not understand the western females' ongoing quest
for independence.  In the part of the world that the Arabic girl came from
women were still subservient to their husbands, which meant that Kiaya
Olsen was in for a fairly big culture shock.  Making a silent promise to
assist Jimmy's bride adjust to the monumental changes that living in
Metropolis would bring, Lois warmly greeted the strange girl.
      When the introductions were finally over and the suitcases loaded
into the car, Lois and Clark drove their friends to the Lexor Hotel (the
Olsens' financial status had clearly taken a turn for the better) and saw
them settled into their new temporary abode.  The Kents had offered to have
Jimmy and Kiaya stay with them in Hyperion Avenue but Jimmy had declined on
the premise that, with such a large family, the house was already
overflowing.  Perhaps he thought that his wife would be swamped by the
lively children.  However, they did accept an invitation to dinner later that
evening.  In the meantime, Jimmy had another introduction to perform.  He
was determined to visit his old mentor and surrogate father, Perry White,
now installed belligerently in a hospital room.

     Later in the day, having banished the kids to the play area in the
attic while they prepared dinner, Lois and Clark discussed their
impressions of the new bride.
     "If my memory serves me right, she's not exactly the type that Jimmy
used to prefer," Lois stated doubtfully.
     "People's preferences do change with time, honey," her husband
suggested as he washed and drained the spinach at the kitchen sink.  "And a
short meeting at an overcrowded airport terminal is barely enough time to
form any definitive opinions.  Perhaps she improves on closer
acquaintance."
     "Improves!  Huh, you said improves!"  Lois seized on his choice of
words.  "Which means that you were hardly taken with Mrs Olsen, either."
     "Not exactly, no!"  Clark dried his hands and crossed to where his
wife was peeling the rest of the vegetables.  Placing his hands lightly on
her shoulders, he turned her to face him.  "But this is Jimmy's wife we're
talking about.  For his sake we have to make an effort.  She is very young
and in a very strange environment.  Also, Beirut might not have been an
ideal place to grow up in.  We have to give her a chance."
     "You're right!  Of course, you're right.  She's probably shy.  And I
will make an effort to befriend her."  Lois gave a determined nod of her
head and resumed her task, emphasising her resolution by waving the
veggie-parer in Clark's direction.  "Poor girl, she needs all the help she
can get in this crazy city.  I wish I had more time to spend with her, but
we have our own problems at home, what with Julian........."
     "And Joel..........."
     "Joel!!  Is something wrong with Joel?"  The decibel levels of Lois'
voice increased.
     "Hush, honey.  Remember that he can very easily overhear you.  It
isn't anything earth shattering, he's just experiencing a little difficulty
with the 'powers'.  Nothing that a little coaching and a large amount of
confidence boosting won't take care off.  Just be careful how you handle
him, O K?"
     "Great!  Two of our children are in need of tender loving care and we
start back to work tomorrow.  I think I need a little confidence boosting
myself."
     "You can cope, honey.  You're Mrs Superman.  You're pretty
spectacular," To reinforce his words he leaned in and kissed her
encouragingly.  Lois returned the embrace and it seemed that dinner
preparations were about to take a back seat, only one of the partners was
still holding a very sharp paring-knife and the other, although
invulnerable, still felt a smidgen uncomfortable with a blade resting below
his left ear.
     "Dinner, sweetheart," Clark reminded her as he broke the embrace.
     "Yes, dinner."

     Dinner, regrettably, was not a great success, a circumstance that had
nothing to do with the quality of the food that was served.  Due to Clark's
vast experience of international cuisine he had, with Lois' assistance,
concocted a selection of dishes, many of which would be familiar to a
middle eastern palate.  But the excellence of the meal could not rescue a
night that quickly deteriorated into a social disaster.
     In the earlier part of the evening Lois attempted valiantly to endorse
her resolution, but each approach was repulsed and each invitation
declined.  In point of fact Kiaya had hardly spoken during the entire
visit, seeming to prefer to talk through her husband.  Lois had on occasion
interacted with shy people before, indeed when first they met, her husband
might have been regarded as reserved.  However, this woman took shyness to
new uncharted levels.  Morose would probably be a more suiting description
of Kiaya's character and eventually even the renowned Lane persistence was
daunted.  Watching her mother's growing discomposure, Clara concluded that
she didn't much like her Aunt Kiaya.  Being inured to decisive, competent
ladies, the youngest of the female Kents found the foreign woman too
timorous for her taste and she spent most of the time pointedly ignoring
the visitor.  Her older brothers were a little more polite in attitude but
they too, by an by, succumbed to the awkwardness of the situation and
lapsed into silence.  Only Nathan continued to chatter obliviously to his
new uncle who seemed to share the small boy's feelings of hero worship for
the Man of Steel.  Yet neither was this a comfortable conversation.  Both
parents too well aware that Nathan could blurt out the truth of his
father's secret identity at any moment.  The fact that this didn't happen
was the only bright spot in the evening.  It was finally left to Jimmy and
Clark to trade travel stories and everyone was relieved when the visitors,
pleading jet-lag, excused themselves earlier than anticipated and set off
for their hotel.  The 'dinner from Hell' was over.

                                                                *****

     Defeat was not something that the temporary joint editor-in-chief of
the Daily Planet viewed with equanimity, so Lois had already determined to
assault the citadel that was Kiaya Olsen one more time.  Nonetheless, as she
chaired a progress meeting with her 'heads of departments' on her first day
back at work, she reckoned she had set herself an extremely formidable task,
a conclusion borne out by Perry White when she had paid him a lunchtime
visit in his hospital suite.  The chief was needless to say surprised at
Jimmy's choice of wife and Lois and he had spent sometime reminiscing of
years gone by when Jimmy had been a cub reporter and an incorrigible flirt,
with a string of pretty, vivacious girlfriends.  Somehow his current amour
did not fit the profile, unless both Perry and she and, more significantly,
Clark, who optimistically tried to see the good in almost everyone, had
completely misread the girl's character.  She sincerely hoped that in
marrying in haste Jimmy would not repent at leisure.
     "Ms Lane!  Ms Lane!!"  The head of the sports section recalled her
attention to the meeting.  The decisions on which storylines should be
given the lead and those on which more research was needed had already been
reached before Lois' excursion into 'la-la-land' and the meeting had pretty
much run down while Lois was daydreaming.  Shaking off her distractions she
speedily summed up and sent her staff off to their respective jobs,
confident that the Planet's workforce were the best in the business.
     Lois lifted the phone, intent on making good on her decision, when she
was interrupted by a visit from James Olsen, who experimentally stuck his
head into her inner-sanctum.
     "Hi, Lois!  Got a moment for an old friend?"
     "Of course, Jimmy.  You're always welcome.  Come on in and take a
seat.  I'm really busy, but I can always make time for you, especially
since you are only around once every two years or so.  Would you like a
coffee while we talk?"
     Jimmy accepted the offer of the seat and the talk, but declined the
beverage.  There was obviously something on his mind which he wasn't
comfortable with discussing.  Lois chose to encourage him.
     "I'm afraid that you've missed Clark.  The kids are on holiday so he's
taking them out for an extended lunch.  I don't expect him back anytime
soon."
     "That's O K, I can catch him later.  Actually Lois, it was you I wanted
to speak to."
     "About?.........."  Lois prompted as a reluctant Jimmy seemed to have
difficulty in continuing.
     "About.......... Kiaya and about apologising for last night's debacle.
 You and Clark must have though that my wife was the rudest dinner guest
you've ever entertained."  And when Lois tried to refute that statement
Jimmy hurried on.  "Lois, I know what you were thinking.  It was written
clear across your face and I don't blame you, Kiaya's conduct was easy to
misunderstand.  She isn't ill-mannered, but she is nervous and frightened
and pretty overwhelmed by Metropolis.  And when you consider that just two
weeks ago she was a single girl with no prospects of a serious
relationship, not to mention a husband, happily working away in her home
city, which is believe me nothing like Metropolis, and with her family, at
least what she has left of her family, and her friends all around her, it
really isn't surprising that she feels a little out of her depth."  It
appeared that James Olsen could also babble with the best of them.
     "I agree, Jimmy, not surprising at all."
     "You do?"
     "That's why I was about to call your hotel suite," Lois indicated the
phone which she had just reset in its cradle.  "I thought I might invite
Kiaya to lunch tomorrow.  You know, just two girls together.  No added
pressures of children and husbands."
     "You were!  Thanks Lois, you are fantastic.  Kiaya knows no-one here
and she really needs a friend.  She's been through a whole lot in her life.
 I mentioned her family; her mother was killed in a bomb attack when she
and her brother were just little kids.  Then her father disappeared a few
years later.  They never did find out what happened to him, though he was
probably a victim of the death squads.  He became just another statistic.
Kiaya and her brother were raised by their grandparents and I guess they
came to terms with what had occurred.  God knows there were a lot of their
peers in the same position.  Of course, Beirut is a lot quieter now and the
people have started to rebuild, but the scars still remain...... and the
bitterness."
     A heartrending sigh escaped from the worldly-wise newswoman.  "We are
really very lucky here in the U S and we don't appreciate it.  Too many
children still live in war zones and watch helplessly while their families
are blown apart.  I'll call Kiaya and invite her out and I promise to keep
all that you've told me in mind, but I won't disclose this conversation,
unless you want me to."
     "I'd appreciate that, Lois.  I'm on my way to meet with my dad.  He's
on a stopover in Metropolis on his way back to Washington.  Maybe I ought
to have taken Kiaya with me, but I got this gut feeling that the
introductions could wait until we all have more time to sit down and get to
know each other.  My dad is a pretty colourful character to accept in a
short meeting and Kiaya was relieved to put it off for a more propitious
occasion.  Anyway I left her in our hotel room channel-surfing and browsing
through fashion magazines.  Like women everywhere she feels she might be
ready to face Metropolis if she had something chic to wear."
     "Great idea, Jimmy!  I can offer to take her clothes shopping."
     A plan was formed that the friends thought would help Kiaya adjust to
her new life as the wife of a successful journalist.  Lois even mentioned
hers and Clark's plans for New Year's Eve and suggested that the couple
might like to accompany them to the Planet's party and then on to the more
up-market 'do' at ibn Said's.  At the mention of Umar, Jimmy had let out a
low whistle.  As a free lance foreign-correspondent Olsen had covered a
great deal of the turbulent happenings in the middle east and ibn Said's
name and reputation was very well known to him.
     "How did you and C K swing that invitation?  Ibn Said moves in very
high circles."
     "And you are insinuating that Clark and I don't?"  Lois teased with
mock indignation but when Jimmy turned a few shades of pink she relented.
"Actually we met quite by chance a few nights ago.  He and his girlfriend
were at the Man of the Year bash and we happened to get acquainted.  They
are both very nice people and we hit it off right away and they invited us
to their party.  I'm sure they won't mind if we bring along two friends,
but if it will make you feel better I can check with Paula."

     Watching the puzzled frown that had settled on Jimmy's face at the
mention of Umar, Lois had assumed that he felt uneasy about gate-crashing
the party.  However, that was the least of Jimmy's concerns.  Aware of the
Arab's powerful standing in the world (he
had himself attempted to procure an in-depth interview with the man only to
be told that ibn Said did not interact with the media), Jimmy found it
difficult to assimilate his knowledge of the oil-sheik with someone with
whom his old friends would be comfortable.   Besides, he also knew that
Lois and Clark because of past encounters, preferred the company of those
they trusted.  Unless they saw the possibility of a story.  Lois would do
almost anything for a story and if they snagged an interview with this
illusive V I P then they would have the interview of the year and possibly
snag another Kerth Award.  Whatever, Jimmy resolved to be there when Lois
breached the lion in his den.  This visit to his home city was proving to
be interesting in more ways than one.

     Immediately after Jimmy vacated her office, Lois had placed a call to
the number that Jimmy left with her and had been very surprised when the
number rang out.  During the next half-hour she repeated her call twice but
with the same result, which was unexpected because according to Jimmy his
wife should be home.  Perhaps Kiaya had gotten fed up with T V and
magazines and taken a walk through the hotel's shopping mall, so Lois
phoned the Lexor front desk and asked that Ms Olsen be paged.  This
resulted in another failure, so Lois left a message with the receptionist,
asking Ms Olsen to return her call.  It appeared that Kiaya Olsen was
braver than her husband suspected and that she had left the hotel.  Weird,
Lois thought, and then she shook herself.  This job was really getting to
her and she was letting her suspicions spill over into her private life,
which was not a good thing.  Thankfully a diversion was at hand that halted
Lois' self castigation.  Clark Kent walked into the office that he now
shared with his wife and, crossing to her side, he leaned over and kissed her
briefly on the lips.  As their children seemed to be suffering from a
lack of parental attention both Lois and Clark had determined that while
the kids were off school that one or both of them would spend lunchtime
with their family and since it was Clark who had been repeatedly
disappearing on them, he had volunteered to take the first break.  He had
also made up his mind that during this time the police or emergency
services could deal with any interruptions.  He had been neglecting his
family too much recently and now it was time to repair the damage.
     "Hi honey," Lois smiled brightly upon him, all thoughts of Kiaya
leaving her mind as she welcomed Clark back.  "How was your lunch with the
kids?"
         "Great!  They enjoyed themselves anyway and I did too, apart from
the fact that the actual lunch tasted like cardboard.  Can anybody tell me
why kids love junk food?"
     "Ah, there you have one of the mysteries of the universe.  Ranks right
up alongside why when you put socks in the washing machine in pairs they
always manage to come out singly or why you wait forever at a bus stop and
then three buses come along at once?  I think that it's obligatory.  Never
mind, baby," she said patting his cheek consolingly, "I'm sure that the
kids will grow out of it.  Here let me get you a coffee to make up for it."
  So saying she pushed herself up from her desk and, picking up her empty
cup, she proceeded to fetch the coffee.  Clark put up a hand to intercept
her but she stepped aside.  "No! No! I'll get it this time.  I feel like
I've been stuck behind that desk forever and I need to stretch my legs."
       Of course, Lois could have played the boss and called her assistant,
but neither she nor Clark chose to pull rank for the incidental things and
the hard-working secretary was far too busy to fetch and carry.
     While Lois was gone Clark crossed to the smaller desk that had been
brought into the office for the duration of their stint as acting editors,
which might be longer than they had first surmised as Perry's whiplash
injuries now appeared more severe and the doctors were suggesting
corrective surgery.   It wasn't an ideal situation, they were happiest in
their positions as investigative reporters but they couldn't let Perry or
the paper down and it was promotion with an enhanced salary.  Clark was
about to boot up his P C and check his e-mail messages when the phone rang.
     "Good afternoon," he spoke pleasantly, "Clark Kent here.  May I help
you?"
     The caller seemed to hesitate for a few moments, then a soft
accentuated voice answered.  "Hallo Clark.  This is Kiaya Olsen
speaking.  I believe that Lois was trying to reach me."
     "She was?"  Clark was surprised by this information as Lois had been
decidedly displeased by the Arab woman's behaviour of last night.
Nonetheless, he knew that Lois was scrupulously fair and exceedingly loyal
and he realised that she must be willing to go the extra mile for the wife
of one of their dearest friends.
     "Clark?!  Clark, are you there?"  The voice at the other end of the
phone sounded anxious.
     "Yes!  Yes, I'm here, Kiaya......... er, Lois has just stepped out of
the office for a moment.  Perhaps I can take a message."  As he talked, his
wife came back through the door, balancing two steaming mugs and a stack of
files.  "Ah, Kiaya, Lois has just come back in......... I'll put her on."
Mouthing a warning to Lois, he passed over the phone.
     "Hi Kiaya," Lois interjected a note of cheer into her voice, "I'm glad
that you returned my call."
     "I'm glad that you called me," came the quick answer.  "It gives me a
chance to apologise for my bad manners.  I'm afraid that I was exhausted
after my trip, but that doesn't really excuse my behaviour.  I felt sure
that you and your family would disown me and that made me sad.  Jimmy
thinks so highly of you and your husband and I would be dishonoured if I
was instrumental in creating a rift between you all."
     "Kiaya, you're taking this all too seriously."  Lois soothed taken
aback by the depth of the girl's emotions.  "Being a stranger in a strange
land would make anyone act a little crankily.  I understand and I'd like to
start again if you would?"
     "Yes, please," Kiaya exclaimed eagerly.  "I do feel somewhat out of my
depth, but I've decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and acting like a
timorous mouse.  Metropolis is my husband's home and so it is mine.  It is
time I started to explore."
     To say that Lois was surprised by this transformation was an
understatement and she could not resist yielding to a little probing.  "Is
that what you've been doing this afternoon?"
     "Right.  Jimmy had to go out and I was bored alone in my room, so I
went out walking.  I felt that I would be safe in a busy street in broad
daylight.  And you know, Lois, I found that I was enjoying myself.  Metropolis
is so........ vibrant........... exciting.  If you could spare the time, I
would love for you to show me around.  And if.......... no I couldn't
ask......... Jimmy tells me that you are such a busy person......... I
couldn't impose."
     "You would like to go shopping?"  Lois queried.  "That's not an
imposition, Kiaya.  In fact I was going to suggest lunch and an afternoon
visiting the malls."
     The two women now seemed to be in perfect accord and the phone call
closed pleasantly after they had made arrangements to meet at noon the next
day.
     Staring thoughtfully at the phone, Lois tried to assimilate the new
and improved version of Ms Olsen with that of the reclusive dinner guest of
the previous night.
     "Penny for them," Clark's voice cut into her reasoning.
     "Clark, would you describe me as paranoid?"  And when her husband's
eyebrows lifted, she quickly explained.  "Over the past week I have met two
women, both of whom have set my nerves on edge and yet neither one appears
to have any suspicious connections."
     Clark chose to ignore his wife's question.  Instead his mind latched
onto her last statement and the connotations which followed.  "You've run
background checks on Paula and Kiaya?"       The look of shock on her
husband's face warned Lois that perhaps she had over stepped the mark and
she had the grace to blush guiltily.
     "Well yes, on Paula and I do think that we ought to find out a little
more about this woman whom Jimmy met and married without seeming to know
much about."  As Clark rolled his eyes in horror at this piece of
information Lois sought to excuse herself.  "I was concerned for our
friend's happiness.  That's perfectly understandable."
     "Lois, not everyone we meet is a criminal.  This is Jimmy's wife, for
God's sake!"
     "Exactly!  And she is acting very strangely."
     "She's extremely shy, but that is not a crime."
     Lois shrugged her shoulders.  "Well, it seems that Kiaya Olsen is no
longer shy.  We're having lunch tomorrow and then we're going shopping."
     "As a friend I hope, Lois."  And when his wife would not meet his
eyes.  "This is not a story, Lois.  Promise me that you'll drop this
investigation."
     When Lois finally lifted her eyes to her husband, she was surprised to
see herself looking into the stern face of Superman, not that the suit was
in evidence, but there was no doubt that the Man of Steel was present.
"Promise me, Lois."  And that was a command.

                                                                *****

     Lunch and the shopping spree passed off astonishingly well, with Lois
deriving a considerable amount of pleasure at showing off her well-loved
city to a star-struck newcomer.  Kiaya adopted the role of a younger sister
who prized her mentor's opinion and the two women spent a comfortable
afternoon in each other's company.  However, Lois did have some lingering
reservations and during the next evening after the kids had gone to bed,
she ventured to voice her concerns to her husband, even though she
recognised his continued annoyance with her suspicions.   Yet for all his
disapproval, she could not wholly dismiss her instincts.  Clark was doing
some re-writes for a human interest story on how the new local bylaws on
vagrancy had turned the holiday season for the homeless community of this
cosmopolitan city into a time of exceeding loneliness, fear and extreme
discomfort.  He had originally planned to publish his story in the Planet's
special Christmas edition, in his 'letter from the editor', but his new
responsibilities  and his job of super hero had intervened, so now he was
determined that it should appear in the last edition of the Daily Planet
for the year 2005.
     Knowing that Clark would not be too enthralled with her interruptions
she tread warily. Stepping up behind him, she slid her hands gently onto
his shoulders as he sat at the desk,
busily typing at the keyboard.  Reflexively her fingers began to massage
the muscles of his broad shoulders and he moaned appreciatively at her
ministrations.  Lois loved the feel of her husband's warmed silken skin
that so effectively hid the steel-like muscles beneath and Clark more than
loved the effect that her actions were having on his body.  Still he had a
job to finish and then he had a son to attend to, having already informed
Joel that when the rest of the family were asleep, the little boy had an
appointment with Superman.  The two were going to Smallville where Superman
was intending to coach Joel in the use of his budding powers.  Nighttime
was not ideal but with his current workload Clark had little time to spare
and there was an upside to the chosen schedule; the rest of the children
would not be aware that they had gone; and darkness would hide their
actions from any prying eyes.  Aware of all these pending tasks, Clark
disappointedly shrugged off Lois' gentle hands.
     "Honey, much as I'm enjoying what you are doing to me, I'm going to
have to take a raincheck," he twisted in his seat and gazed up at his
pouting wife.  "Remember that I promised to take Joel to the farm tonight
and if I don't finish this," he indicated the screen of his laptop with a
wave of his hand, " in the next few minutes I am not going to meet deadline
and I really want this article to go out in tomorrow morning's addition."
     "I could take a look at it for you and wire it through to the office,
if you need more time with Joel," Lois suggested helpfully.
     "That's kind of you Lois, but I don't want you editing out the touchy,
feely stuff."  Well did Clark realise that his wife was uncomfortable with
'emotional pieces' although she had mellowed through the years and
occasionally when she chose to champion a cause she could wring tears from
her readers.  However, on the whole she left these 'mood' editorials up to
her husband.
     Lois raised her hands, palms outwards to Clark.  "I promise that I
will not change a single word.......... well hardly a single word.  And I
will certainly not change the mood of the story.  Trust me, sweetheart."
     "You're being very supportive, Lois."  He was thoughtfully searching
the beautiful face before him for some clues.  Due to past experience he
recognised that his wife had something on her mind and she was wondering
how best to approach him, which meant that this was something that he
wouldn't like.  "Out with it Lois.  What's bothering you?"
     A soft hand slipped round his shoulders again and she leaned into his
body.  "I realise that this is a taboo subject with you Clark, but I'm
sorry I just can't leave it alone."  She paused for a moment then with
customary gusto she dived right in.  "Do Christian and Islamic Arabs
actually like each other?"
     "Hmmm, back to Kiaya again."  Thankfully Clark sounded more resigned
than annoyed as he contemplated his answer.  "At the moment they're not
killing each other, but I suspect that there's a lot of bitterness left
over from the massacres, even though they happened years ago.  But now
they are working towards reconciliation, which has to mean something.  On a
more personal level, I'm sure that there are some who get along, perhaps
are even on friendly terms.  Why do you ask?"
     "You know that I invited Kiaya and Jimmy to Umar's party," when she
received an affirmative nod, she continued.  "Jimmy was all for it, but I
had reservations about Kiaya's acceptance and yet I couldn't have been more
wrong.  She was over the moon.  Practically drooling."
     "Umar is something of a celebrity in that part of the world."
     "Clark, he's a celebrity in every part of the world.  Yet I somehow
thought that since her family was nigh on wiped out by Muslims that Kiaya
might not be too keen on socialising with a prominent member of their
religion."
     "Sweetheart, that is precisely the kind of thinking that started the
whole deadly debacle."  Taking Lois' hand he pulled her down onto his lap.
"Perhaps Kiaya and Umar are adult enough to move on.  And I wish that a
certain tenacious reporter would do the same."  When he saw that she was
not completely convinced.  "I don't know, maybe she fancies him."
     "But she's married to Jimmy."  After a few seconds of consideration,
however, she rejected his suggestion.  "Nah, that's not it.  I doubt that
Kiaya is fickle."  Lois was contemplating the evening gown which the girl
had eventually chosen.  The grey velvet dress was remarkably plain and from
the high neck to the long clinging sleeves and the ankle skimming skirt, it
cloaked every inch of Kiaya's undoubted attractions.  No, Kiaya Olsen could
in no sense be described as a flirt.  A brush of soft lips across her cheek
broke through her contemplations.
     "Lois, you are overreacting to all this.  Now, while I understand
that we have both been under a great deal of pressure lately, let's not go
looking for trouble.  Let's just enjoy a happy New Year party with our new
friends.  And just to prove that I do trust you implicitly, I'll take you
up on your offer to edit my copy."  Clark turned his attention from the
lovely woman sitting on his knee, to his children tucked safely in bed in
the upper-reaches of the brownstone.  "The kids are all asleep, even Joel,
maybe I should just forget about Smallville tonight."
     "You can't do that, Clark."  The mother in Lois objected even knowing
that Clark would have to wake their son.  "You did promise Joel and he
would be very disappointed if you broke your word.  Besides, the kids will
be returning to school soon and who knows when you might get another
chance."
     "O K, baby.  We won't be gone so very long.  I promise that I'll have
him back before midnight.  A couple of hours should be enough for a
superboy to start off with."
     Lois slid off his lap as he abandoned his story to her care and,
stepping back, he spun into the suit.  Moments later Superman was standing
by Joel's bedside gently shaking his son awake.  The little boy came
quickly to his senses.
     "Hi Dad, are we ready to go?"  The underlying excitement that infused
Joel's words reinforced Lois' estimation that her son would definitely have
been crestfallen if his father had sought to postpone this trip.
     Putting a finger to his lips Clark shot a warning glance towards the
other bed in which Julian lay relaxed in sleep.  As Joel emerged from under
the covers, a smile hovered on the hero's lips when he saw that the boy was
prepared for this excursion, being fully dressed in his darkest clothes.
Superman lifted Joel into his arms and without a sound the two floated out
of the room, leaving behind one extremely shocked and wide-awake young boy
in the opposite bed, hiding under the refuge of his quilt, his eyes as round
as pennies.

                                                              *****

     Happily unaware that their departure had been witnessed, the two only
super-powered beings on this earth hovered in the night sky above the
Kansas farm, whilst the boy sheltered from the chill winter air, cosily
wrapped in his father's cloak.  Ascertaining that they were all alone in
the close vicinity, they alighted by the barn and quickly went inside.
Superman lit the storm lanterns, carefully shielding the glow from the
outside world.  The dim light threw weird shadows against the wooden walls
and cast into unfamiliar relief the old agricultural equipment that
littered the barn (there were some parts of Jonathan Kent's former life with
which the retired farmer was unable to part).  Some nooks and crannies of
the structure remained in darkness and the overall effect was somehow eerie,
yet both man and boy felt comfortably at home in the familial surroundings.
 Besides, each was intent on the task at hand.
     "What now, Dad?"  Joel demanded, anxious to begin.
     "This is your lesson, son.  You choose."  When the child seemed
undecided Clark concluded that a little suggestion would not go amiss.
"Which of your new powers gives you the most trouble?  Because that would
be a good place to start."
     "I don't like the noise, Dad.  Sometimes I hear too many things and
all at once.  It makes my head ache and I can't shut it out."
     Clark empathised with the boy but at present he was here not to coddle
but to teach.  In learning how to control the powers, Joel would gain the
greatest relief.  Superman listened to the silence of the dark countryside,
which when you took time to listen wasn't really silent at all.  He smiled
encouragingly as he turned to his son.
     "This isn't exactly the ideal location for learning about noise
control, but maybe we could go about it from the opposite angle.  Coach you
how to focus only on certain sounds."
     Tilting his head up, Clark became aware of the winter wind whistling
through the denuded branches of the tall trees that surrounded the farmyard
and the different sound it made as it ruffled the icy surface water of the
lake nearby.  Clark selected to start with the closest  and hopefully
graduate to a wider area of sound.
     "Listen, Joel," he whispered softly, not wishing to offend his son's
over-sensitive ears.  "Do you hear the wind?"
     Joel copied the directional tilt of his father's head.  Whilst
concentrating fiercely and slowly the small boy's eyes lit from within as
enlightenment dawned.  Watching closely the expressions flit across the
young face Clark prompted again.
     "What do you hear, Joel?  How does it sound?"
     "Like it was sad........ as if it were sighing in the trees.  And the
branches........ they're creaking and squeaking."  Joel continued to listen
raptly but the noises that came to him this time were separate and
distinct.  He went on wonderingly.  "The wind's blowing up the pond.  There
are waves lapping against the rocks at the edge......  it sounds a bit like
a swish and a gurgle.......  and Grandpa needs to make some repairs 'cos
there's a shutter banging somewhere on the house."
     Clark laughed at that last response but decided to set his son a small
test.  "Can you tell which shutter is broken?"
     Joel's eyes widened in surprise.  "You can tell?"  And when Superman
nodded a yes, the boy closed his eyes in concentration.  After a moment he
responded.  "I think it's round the back of the house, maybe one of the
kitchen windows."
     "That's really good," Clark encouraged.  "It's the one by the left of
the back door."
         Father and son exchanged satisfied grins, then Joel continued with
his voyage of discovery.  All in all, Joel overheard a dog barking on the
Irig property, next door to the Kent farm; a decidedly noisy and rowdy
party a few miles closer to Smallville and the subsequent visit that the
revellers received from the local police patrol; the steamy and escalating
encounter of a young couple who had parked their car up on the bluff, a
favourite and enduring spot for Smallville's courting couples.  Here endeth
the first lesson.  There were certain things that Clark decreed that his
son was just too young to learn.  However, judging by the giggles which his
son could not quite suppress, he understood that Joel was sneaking a quick
preview.  Superman growled sternly.
     "Joel!  Super heroes do not eavesdrop on other peoples' sex
lives......... private lives!  I mean private lives."  It seemed a
diversion was required.  "I think that we should do a little work on your
heat vision."
     "That's cool, Dad.  Ever since the summer I've been scared that I
might set something alight when I didn't mean to.  What if it happened at
school?"  Joel's voice was full of horror.  "Then everyone would know about
me."
     This was a fear that was shared by Lois and Clark, yet frightening
Joel further would not improve matters.  A blue-clad arm sneaked around the
child's shoulders and drew him in for a hug.  "Let's not worry about things
that haven't happened and concentrate on teaching you control.  And you can
always wear glasses."
     "DAD!!"  His son's aggrieved tone informed Clark exactly what Joel
thought about that suggestion.
     "O K, let's get busy."
     The next hour was spent in Joel trying to burn holes in pieces of
board that Superman held up for him.  Very slowly the aim of the laser-like
beam became more accurate though only powerful enough to leave a charred
ring behind.  Superman was not unduly worried about the intensity of the
power, assuring his son that it could take some years before he attained
the full strength of his powers and abilities.  Most importantly was the
fact that the child had under control the forces that were available to
him.  Before leaving for home Clark scoured the barn and found a box of old
bottles which would make ideal practise targets.  Three of the bottles were
set on the top spar of a wooden stall and Clark stood Joel only a short
distance from the targets and instructed him to try his skills.  Two of the
bottles toppled from their resting place as Joel burnt the wooden rail
beneath the objects, but the third slowly began to glow then cracked loudly
as the heat increased.  Joel shouted in triumph at this small success and
he continued to train his vision on the wooden stall.  Clark was also proud
of his son and, picking up the fallen bottles, he repositioned them for
another attempt.  Unaware that Joel was still employing his laser-beam he
stepped into the line of fire.  Within a few seconds an acrid smell wafted
through the gloomy sepulchral like barn.  Joel screamed a warning and
clamped his hands to his eyes.  The Man of Steel swiftly assessed the
situation and brought it under control, the only casualty being the red
cape which now sported a small but noticeably blackened hole just below the
bright shield.  The thinner and more susceptible material had fallen victim
to an evolving superboy and Clark's famous aura did not always protect the
cape, as unlike the suit it did not cling so closely to his body.
     Joel was standing rigid with fear unable to tear his hands away from
his face.  This scenario was exactly what had most worried him; the fact
that he would start a fire and hurt some innocent bystander.  Of course, he
recognized that he couldn't really hurt his dad, but what if it had been
someone else in his family or perhaps one of his school friends.  Maybe
glasses were the answer.  Clark's first intention had been to read the riot
act to his son, yet as he witnessed the frozen stance of shock and fear, he
concluded that Joel didn't need to be instructed about his wrong-doing.
The small boy was obviously well aware of his misdemeanour and had been
scared very badly by how easily it had occurred.  Crossing the barn floor
Clark knelt by the forlornly frigid figure and pulled the hands from the
child's face.
     "It's all right, Joel."  He gathered the boy into his arms and
soothingly rubbed his hands up and down the now trembling back.  "No one
got hurt.  And the barn is still in one piece."
     Gulping down his sobs, Joel pushed back to stare intently into his
father's eyes.  "And you're not mad at me?"
     "For a nano-second, perhaps a little.  But I think that you appreciate
just how dangerous a mistake you made.  You must never, ever trigger your
heat vision without first checking that the sight is clear."  Clark could
not forebear to remind his son.  "And I ought to have been paying more
attention."
     "You're not to blame, Dad. *I* did wrong and you won't always be
around to put things right.  I'm so sorry."  The tears were now flowing
profusely down Joel's cheeks.  "Maybe I do need to wear glasses."
     "Mmmm........ you *are* taking this badly."  Deciding that a little
light relief was in order, Clark pulled the cloak from his shoulders.  "You
know, son, the only thing that got hurt here was the cape."  And holding it
up he poked a finger through the singed hole.  "That's a small price to pay
for learning a very important life lesson.  Except your grandma might not
see it that way.  This is my newest cape.  She made it just last week to
replace the one that got burned in the oil-tanker fire.  I guess she's
going to have to get out her sewing machine again."
     "You couldn't repair it?"  Joel hopefully questioned.
     Assessing the damage for a few seconds, Clark finally shook his head.
"Afraid not!  This cape is a goner!  So looks like you better save your
apologies for your grandma."  The red cape was wrapped round Joel and,
ruffling the thick dark hair that was so like his own, Clark swept his boy
into his arms.  "Come on, let's go tell your mom how we did."

     The pair arrived home to find an anxious mother restlessly stalking
back and forth across the living-room floor, a dog-eared romance novel long
since abandoned on the coffee table.  When they came to rest in front of
her Lois warmly embraced her super heroes, quickly sensing that something
had occurred.
     "Is it particularly cold outside," she indicated the cocooned body of
her son, "or is there some other reason for not wearing the cape?"
     Clark could swear that his wife was telepathic.  "We had a small
accident."
     "No! *I* had a small accident."  Joel was swift to speak up.  "I burnt
the cape."
     Picking up on the tiny warning glance that Clark bestowed on her, Lois
continued, hoping that she had interpreted the look correctly.  A look that
said 'I've already dealt with this, now it's your turn to make it better'.
"Oh dear!   Well you're in exalted company, son.  Didn't that Old English
King Arthur burn the capes?"
     "No, Lois.  It was that Old English King *Alfred* that burnt the
*cakes*.  King Arthur was the one with the round table."
     "Smartypants!!  Is there anything you *don't* know?  Anyway what's so
remarkable about burning cakes that it should be chronicled forever. *I* do
it all the time."
     "I don't think that the actual burning was the significant part, but
the fact that even important men, like kings, can sometimes make mistakes."
 Clark pointed out helpfully.
     "I know that, Mr Wise-guy," she teased and at a muffled giggle from
their son, both parents deduced that their strategy had been successful.
"Let me have a look at this burn and see if it can be rectified, then you
are going off to bed, young man."
     However, after a quick study, Lois came to the same conclusion as her
husband; the cape was irreparably damaged.  Which mishap, because of his
parents light handling of the matter, Joel no longer viewed as the
catastrophe of the season.  He decided to push his luck and requested a
glass of hot chocolate and a cookie; after all, practising super skills
really took it out of a guy.  Laughing brightly together the three went arm
and arm into the kitchen.  So concerned were they in dealing with Joel's
problems neither one of them had spotted the blanket-clad boy on the
stairs, watching and listening in growing horror to what he had witnessed.

     When Superman, with Joel in his arms, had departed from the boys'
bedroom he had left behind a very distraught child.  How could Mom?!  How
could Joel?!  How could Superman?!  The thoughts tumbled through Julian's
shivering body.  He had lain awake in his bed for hours, debating whether
he should tell his parents that Joel had flown off with the super
hero....... and had called him Dad!  If that were true and Joel was the son
of Superman, then it meant that Mom and Superman had.......... But here the
eight-year old boy's suppositions ground to a halt.  It wasn't that he was
completely naive about the things that married people did and sometimes
people who were not even married.  Billy Sheldon's big sister had a baby
and she wasn't married.  It had been the talk of the school a few weeks
back and Billy had got real upset when the kids had teased him about it and
said the baby was illegitimate.  Of course Mom was married but if she had a
baby to someone who wasn't her husband, did that mean that Joel was
illegitimate?  What was illegitimate?  Laying in his darkened bedroom the
troubling questions had whirled in his brain, but one thought had arisen
from the confusion; he wouldn't tell his Dad because he understood how much
it would hurt Clark to know that his son belonged to someone else,
especially since that someone else was Superman.  That knowledge was making
Julian feel sick and maybe he had misheard the words.  He shouldn't make
any decisions without first giving his Mom a chance to explain.  Pulling a
blanket from the bed he slid it round his shaking shoulders, he felt so
cold inside, and went downstairs to question his mother.  Only he never
made it to the living room.  A gentle 'woosh' heralded the return of the
super hero and Julian looked on in growing torment as the scene played out
beneath him.
     The child's instincts were to seek the comfort of his father, who he
assumed must be already asleep in his room, but a stronger inherent
compassion held him still.  Clark Kent had saved his life and brought him
to a new world.  Julian could not now destroy the world of the man he loved
so much.

                                                                   *****

     The Daily Planet's New Year party began at 9.30 p m and was proving to
be a great success.  The desks in the newsroom had been pushed aside to
allow room for dancing and two large tables, ranked along the side wall
under the big window that was regarded by most as Superman's entrance, were
groaning with food and drink.  Young Stephan and his friend had been
nominated as Deejays for the evening on the strict premise that they would
play a selection of 'golden oldies' amongst the current crop of top discs
and if Stephan appreciated what was good for his career, then some of these
classics would include a number of Elvis hits.  The atmosphere was one of
friendship and relaxation and though Lois considered that she and her
group, due to their attendance later at Umar's more elite gathering, were
a trifle overdressed, she was determined to have fun.  There had been a
point during the day when it appeared that she had little chance of
attending either celebration.

     From the moment that Clark had switched off the alarm in their
townhouse the day had been fraught with frustration.  As Lois had struggled
to wakefulness, she had heard a child crying and it did not take a lot of
investigation to discover that the baby of her family was a very sad little
boy.  Pulling herself from her warm bed she intercepted Clark coming from
the bathroom, a towel wrapped round his damp body, on the same mission of
comfort as herself.  Instructing Clark to dress and see to the rest of the
children's breakfast she padded barefoot into Nathan's bedroom.  The
sniffles that had started the other day had developed into a full-blown
head cold and her son was now a very hot and tearful toddler, who only
wanted to cling to his Mommy for comfort.  She enfolded the sweaty-skinned
child in a blanket and carried him downstairs, reflecting that her older
children had never been sick and wondering if this was a sign that in
Nathan the human genes predominated.  Somewhere on the top-shelves of the
kitchen cupboards she kept a variety of children's medicines (just in case),
ones which Bernard and Beth had determined would not harm these unique
children.  It certainly seemed that in this case a dose of 'Calpol' might
be beneficial.
     Clark, at once assimilating the woeful state of his baby, crossed
to the mother and child as Lois sat at the table rocking her son gently
and, taking care that Julian was not attending, he blew a cooling breath
over Nathan's heated body.
     "I believe he's running a temperature, honey.  Maybe you should give
Beth a call and have him checked over."
     Lois nodded and smiled her thanks for Clark's helpful action.  "I
intend to and I'll stay home with him today, but that means rescheduling
our plans."  She sounded a tad disappointed at this last thought.  So was
he.  He had been looking forward to having Lois all to himself tonight and
not as the mother of his family, albeit a well-loved family.
     "Oh well, sweetheart, that's the joys of having children."  He
squeezed her shoulder in commiseration as he spoke.
     "I still think that the rest of you should go to Grandma Martha's,"
she reiterated.  "There's no point in ruining all of our plans."  Lois was
well aware how much her children loved their grandparents company and
staying over for the night was a great treat.  The joyful shout that
greeted her decision was proof of that thought.  The original plan had been
that all the children would spend the night as well as the usual day with
Martha and Jonathan and that the older Kents would deliver the children to
their school's New Year party, being held the next afternoon.  That way
Lois and Clark could enjoy themselves without worrying unduly about the
welfare of their kids.
     "Good idea, honey."  Clark measured out a dose of the pink medicine
and handed it to Lois, who encouraged Nathan to drink, telling him that it
would make him all better.  Thankfully the medicine was pleasant tasting
and the toddler complied with his mom's request, sinking back into her arms
when he had drained the last drop.  Satisfied that Nathan was not in
imminent danger, Clark turned his attention back to his older children.
"Come on kids, finish your breakfasts and hurry up and pack for your
stop-over at Gran and Grandpa's.  If your mom's staying home today it means
that I'll be twice as busy.  So the sooner I can drop you lot off the
sooner I can make it into work.  And remember and pack for tomorrow's party
too."  Lois sincerely hoped that the clothes her children chose to take
with them would be appropriate, but for the moment dressing-up the children
was the least of her worries.
    Pleased that they were still getting to attend the school party, Joel
and Clara, answering their father's instructions,  jumped down from their
places at the table and rushed upstairs.  Julian, on the other hand, sat
very still, gazing off into space, completely oblivious to all that had
taken place.  Lois raised enquiring eyes to her husband, who shrugged and
bent down to whisper in her ear.
     "He's been like that all morning.  I asked him if something was