Thanks to a great stand-in Beta: the fabulous Vgerland and for her assistance! Sparklingstone has been unavailable and I was itching to get this chapter out there. I hope it wasn't too long for those who are waiting and if anyone new happens to stumble upon this, I hope it's enjoyable and not too far fetched!

Chapter 10: Proximity

The horns from numerous cars sounded in the mid-day traffic and ricocheted up the skyscraper caverns. Lois closed her eyes in frustration and with a thud; her forehead came to rest against the top of the steering wheel.

“Move it morons” she grumbled at the a-typical traffic snarl. “The one day I’m off, I sit in this.”

A phone had been retrieved from her purse and the reflexive pattern of her home number was punched. Lois glared at the rear bumper that occupied the majority of the windshield.

Her hand gestured to no one. “This is not rush hour!” As if her logical statement would trigger traffic to part like the Red Sea.

The phone continued to ring.

“Lois?” Richard answered.

“I’m on my way home, but stuck in traffic.”

“This early?”

“Some idiot decided to shut down a lane for a construction job. Great, you think they would have reported this sort of thing for us to put in the paper.”

“Um, I think they did. It was in your article if I remember correctly...”

“Right.” Perfect.

“Any sign of it letting up soon?”

“Don’t know.” She began to pick at her nail cuticles.

“That bad huh?”

“I will die of shock if I ever see one of those fat bozos do something productive. I’m convinced all they do is have one guy drop cones off a truck at one end and another guy on the other end picks them up. I’m going to write an article.” The commonplace threat for any area of irritation in her life.

“So how is that going to change the traffic jam that you’re already sitting in?”

She sighed. Admittedly, there were some aspects of her personality he did know well.

“I’ll be home when I can. Please make sure Jason eats something of nutritional value for lunch. Remember, he doesn’t need to eat the gluten free bread anymore.”

“Right. It’s much easier to feed him now that he’s grown out of a few of these allergies. Although I’m not surprised given who his…”

“Richard.” She cut him off.

“What? I’m just saying.” She could hear him shrug his shoulders.

The altercation with the new owner of the Daily Planet was fresh on her mind and it bothered her. “Do me a favor?”

“If it’s money, the answer’s no. I don’t get paid until next week, neither do you.”

“Funny.” She stated. Not at all in the mood for his banter. “Before I get home, look up whatever you can find on Milton Fine, or Tony Fine.”

“Alright but that name doesn’t sound familiar. Who is he?” Richard scratched his head.

“Are you kidding?” She sat fully upright with acute interest. “You’re the international section editor.”

“What’s that got to do with anything Lois?” Dishes clattered in their shelves. “Did you pick up any sliced turkey at the store? I told you, I don’t know who that guy is. You make it sound like I should.”

“He’s the new owner of the Daily Planet!”

The crinkling of cellophane on the other end of the line that most likely contained the bread grew still.

“New owner? I didn’t know the Planet was even for sale…” he trailed in disbelief. The roar of Lois’s idle engine hummed. “I’ll see what I can find after I make lunch. Oh, Lois? The turkey?”

“With all the other cold cuts, in the meat drawer. See you at home.”

After the phone slapped shut and was flung across the vehicle to the passenger seat, her mind began to hum along with the Audi. Her former fiancé had no idea the Daily Planet had been bought and sold; anyone in a management position would have known.

Richard would have been included in that particular social circle, but of course in her own opinion, death held far more appeal than to have any type of management position or to be kept in that type of loop.

As traffic inched beyond the choke-hold of the snarled streets, the reporter’s mind whized beyond the asphalt, chrome, tires and rattling jack hammers. In fact, it all seemed to melt away in a haze as her conflicting thoughts jockeyed for attention. The abrupt shift in her employer’s ownership was pushed aside.

The feasibility of obtaining an apartment with a large balcony or penthouse was incredibly small. It was almost comical really, except the glaring necessity of it proved sobering.

Anything decent would have been far beyond her income, yet she was about to spend a sizeable portion of her day off perusing websites for apartments with the amenity of rooftop access or penthouse with balcony. Perhaps purchasing a lottery ticket would help her odds.

Speaking of hunting, Lois groaned aloud.

“Damn it, I’ve got to get a dress for Friday. Like I’m going to have time for that.”

The Pulitzers were two days away and would be here before she knew it. She would have to make time this afternoon. The dinner, the presentation, and the awkward situation with her date would make for an interesting evening.

Lois was rather nervous and it was not for the award she would have to accept; it was her escort for the evening that elicited sweating on the palms of her hands. It was rather surprising that her knee-jerk response to her partner’s company on Friday evening was as such. This was so complicated.

Lois felt a pang of guilt as her mind turned to her sweet and quiet partner. As if she had already betrayed Kal El, which was bizarre, considering she was not in a specific relationship.

Sure, they locked lips and oh, what a kiss it was. Lois knew that she loved Kal El but the logical feasibility of a relationship with him was questionable, but damn, the chemistry, simply put, he was like no one else she had ever met. He was incredible.

Despite the ridiculous notion of any type of romantic prospect with another colleague, the occasions which her mind wandered down that path had only increased recently. He was like a comfortable sweater, a worn in shoe or a dress that would always work. A somewhat dorky sweater, but still, he was Clark. Somehow he had slipped beneath her skin; it drove her mad and secretly she reveled in the sensation.

Her cell phone rang on the passenger seat. “Clark Kent” flashed across the screen.

Speak of the devil. Her stomach flopped.

“What can I do for you Kent?”

“Um, I’ve got a question.”

“Alright.”

Silence.

“Anytime now Clark. I’m still here.”

His throat cleared in a blatant nervous mannerism. “What am I supposed to wear for our, um…”

“Our date?”

“Right, date.” There was a pause on the line. He was thinking about something. “Lois… you did say date at work.”

“Yes, I did.” She stated with finality and left it at that. Lois herself, was not entirely certain a strictly work related evening was what she intended at that time, nor was it what she wanted now.

“So.”

This was awkward. “You’re a reporter Clark” she stifled a snort of amusement at their somewhat adolescent conversation that tip toed around the subject. “It’s the Pulitzers. You don’t know?”

“Well, um. No. I-I did get invited last minute, and last year’s was a luncheon. Since it’s a dinner this year, I didn’t know if the attire would be any different. I mean, I guess they’d put something like that in an invitation you know, business dress...”

“Clark…” she smiled. The rambling began. He was nervous.

He continued. “Or since its dinner, black tie? I don’t have a tux since I’ve never won anything myself. I’ve usually just rented them.”

“Clark.”

“I think the last time I wore one was about six years ago, my cousin’s wedding.” Gosh I don’t even know if I could rent one this short notice…”

“Stop it Smallville!” She blurted.

“Sorry.”

“It’s black tie. But look, it’s not that big of a deal. Just borrow a bowtie from Jimmy, he’s got plenty. Don’t ask me why but he thinks they’re the cutting edge of fashion. Anyway, if you wore a suit and bow tie I don’t think anyone would notice Clark.”

“Maybe not, but well…I just really wanted to make sure I didn’t embarrass you.”

“Oh” she breathed. There was such an incredible sincere earnestness about his profession.

“Gosh Lois, it’s such a big night for you, I know it’s important. You’ve wanted this since we met. I just don’t want to screw it up for you.”

Her car began to rapidly accelerate as the traffic thinned. She merged onto the bridge.

“Clark,” her voice softened. “If you don’t want to ruin it, then do one simple thing for me.” She sighed. I can not believe I’m saying this out loud. “Don’t leave me; stick around for the whole night.”

“I promise Lois, I won’t leave you.” As her partner spoke, goose bumps flashed across the dorsum of her forearms.

“Friday, six sharp.” She could barely utter the words, her mouth had run dry.

“By the way, I’ve emailed you some interesting tips on the underground construction projects, take a look.”

“I’ll look over the email when I get home. See you tomorrow at work. Bye.”

The vivid daydream had forced its way into focus. It was disturbing. She could not have shot her partner, why the hell wasn’t there blood? She began to laugh out loud at the bizarre images her mind had decided to portray as of late.

Superman could type, apparently was amazing in the sack and she shot her partner, who didn’t bleed… it was ridiculous. There simply had to be a logical explanation for the bizarre dreams. It was stress; she had been under a significant amount, more than usual. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.

Water glistened below as her Audi raced across the bridge that spanned the bay. A riveting conclusion formed. There was only one way to determine if Clark and Superman were indeed the same person.

Perhaps Superman really was always around. Her head shook. Her reporter’s intuition lead her to the suspicion but it could not be, she could not be so incredibly blind to miss such a connection for two men who were so important in her life. She was a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, certainly Woodward and Bernstein would have sniffed that out as well if there were any merit to it.

Friday night, she would have to kiss her partner. It was the only logical solution and oddly enough she did not dread the concept. Her palms began to sweat again.

Clark slid the phone into the worn pocket of his jeans. As far as the office relationship with Lois was concerned, things were beginning to change. He could feel it. The air between them had been charged for some time now, and with more intensity. However, how things had begun to shift was not exactly clear.

His eyes searched the waves of grain that sprawled across the landscape for a plausible solution to the triangle that had formed with Lois, himself and his other persona. There was not one.

The porch boards groaned beneath his feet as he turned to enter the familiar farmhouse. Martha Kent failed to turn towards the sound of the door. Her son’s comfortable cadence moved closer as she continued with the lunch dishes.

“So Clark, what’s the verdict?”

The tall man sat quietly on the kitchen chair. “Black tie.”

“I told you.”

“Thanks Mom.” Both of his elbows leaned on the table as his hands pushed back the hair from his face. “I just don’t know if a tux shop will have one on such a short notice.”

The dishes clattered in the drain. Martha briskly cleared away the remaining ones on the table from the lunch that she had shared with her son. He never was able to turn down a meatloaf sandwich.

“Clark, I’m sure tuxedo places in Metropolis are used to last minute rentals.”

“I didn’t wait Mom,” he protested. “Lois asked me to go with her only an hour ago.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’ve always had a bit of a problem finding my size. It’s not always one that is kept in stock.”

He stood to his full height to make a point.

“I suppose you are a bit tall.”

She eyed the tall son of hers and scratched her head as it tilted slightly in deep concentration. Her fingers snapped as she turned and made her way up the stairs.

“I’ve got it. In the attic. Now I know it’s old, but…I think it will work.” She spoke and climbed the stairs to the second floor as Clark finished a glass of water.

Curious, the man followed his mother up the stairs and then floated up through the trap door opening into the attic behind Martha. Inside the confines of the old timbers and rafters, she exhaled and her breath formed a haze in the cold air. Rubbing her hands together to ward of the sharp temperatures, the keen brown eyes searched the walls of numerous boxes.

“Now, where did I put that thing…?”

“Mom, just tell me what you’re looking for, you know I can find things a little more easily.”

“Of course, son, I suppose I’m a bit distracted. Something’s been bothering me.”

“Mom, did you really come up here for something or just lure me into the attic to corner me about my love life?” He eyed her suspiciously

“Alright, it’s been on my mind. I try not to meddle but sometimes Mom’s can’t help it.” Martha conceded. Her hands waived in surrender. “Honestly son, you and Lois, have a child. The point is, I know you love her.”

“I do.”

“You don’t need a lecture from me, but you need to tell her who you are Clark. It’s time to tell her about everything that happened and why she doesn’t remember. She loves you.”

“And how are you so sure?”

Martha sat on one of the boxes and looked at her son’s skeptical expression, his blue eyes bore into hers as he stood with his arms crossed.

“There’s something I never told you Clark. When you came back, after you…” tears glistened in the low light of the lone light bulb. “After you …fell, I went to Metropolis. To the hospital.”

“You never told me you went.” He looked at his mother with surprise.

“I had to go. I stood outside with everyone else, waiting for any news. Even though I never got to see you, I had to be as close to you as I could.” She stood and began to look through the boxes again. “That’s when I saw her. Lois and my Grandson.” A warm smile spread across her face. “It had to have been him. He looks just like you did at that age. He’s beautiful. Son, that woman was so terrified, it was as plain as day on her face how frightened Lois was that she was about to lose you. I saw it in her eyes.”

Clark stood, speechless.

“She might have been mad as hell at you, but trust me, that woman loves you. Clark, you’ve got to tell her.”

“It’s not that simple. The problem is, is that she loves Superman, that’s just a part of who I am. That’s not all there is to me; you know I’m more than that.”

“True, but if you don’t let her in, to the other side of yourself, how are you ever going to give her an opportunity to love the whole person?”

“Mom, the Clark Kent she knows at work is not really me either, at work I’m invisible. She talks to me when no one else is around. I don’t intend to be negative, but I don’t think she loves me.”

“Well of course; have you ever actually spent time with Lois?”

“Of course, more situations and occasions than I can count.”

“That’s not what I mean son. Have you let Lois know who you really are? Without any false pretenses.”

“No.”

“Well? What do you expect? Clark, you’re my son, I want you to be happy with your life, I’m the last person who meddles in personal lives of others, but right now, you are not at peace with your life. You need to allow yourself to be just that…you. Nothing else.”

“It hasn’t been easy, being who I am. Keeping secrets.”

“Aren’t you tired of it? Anyway, what do I know, I married my high school sweetheart and I’m just an old lady.” She turned to the boxes and waved her hand in dismissal at their conversation. “Back to my search. If you wouldn’t mind, your x-ray vision would help speed things along.”

“I could if you would tell me what I’m looking for.”

She clapped her hands together. “Oh where’s my brain? I’m looking for your father’s old tuxedo.”

Clark’s nose wrinkled. “Not the one with the ruffles Mom. I don’t think powder blue tuxedos have been fashionable since the seventies.”

Martha laughed in amusement. She waved her hand. “Oh Clark! Do you really think I’m that dense?” She continued to open boxes and sort through their contents. “No, I wouldn’t do that to you. It’s the one he had when we were married. It’s from the early sixties. Before those hideous ruffles.”

His eyes began to peel away layers of boxes and bins. Their cardboard veneers melted away and he rested upon an older box in the corner behind a stack.

“Found it.”

Quickly, the retro black tuxedo was retrieved from the box, shaken to free it from whatever dust that had crept into the container during forty years of storage.

“Well,” Martha exclaimed. “It might work.” The jacket held in her hands was pushed against her son’s broad shoulders. “At least your father was tall, not as tall but close.”

Clark observed some memory unfurling as his older mother gazed with a wistful expression as a hand patted his chest. He softly placed his own on top of Martha’s.

“It’s a bit narrow.” She commented. The wool fabric was folded and tucked under an arm.

“Maybe you can let it out in the shoulders and at the cuffs. You’re a pretty good tailor.”

“True,” she mused. “I did do a hell of a job on a certain suit for you, which still fits like the day I made it I might add.”

As Martha moved to climb down the ladder, Clark’s arm wrapped around her waist. The two individuals drifted down the opening and the floor seemed to rise up to meet their feet.

The woman took the ladder and forced it up, back into the ceiling. After her hands brushed off the debris, she turned to her son who watched her, amazed at the resiliency she still possessed.

“Thanks for the lift, but the next flight down, I can handle myself. You don’t need to be fussing over me. Clark, I’m just a few years older, I’m not an invalid.”

“You know Mom,” he teased. “Most women would give anything for Superman to give them a ride.”

He grinned impishly in his mother’s direction as she poked through a sewing basket.

“Huh.” A piece of tailor’s chalk began to leave its white residue along the black fabric. “I’m not most people…make sure your shoulders are back, don’t slouch.”

Martha ignored her son’s exasperation.

“I’ve seen your bare bottom. Most women I know would give anything and be pretty amazed to get a load of that.” She winked and poked him with the chalk. “The Inquisitor and your boss could make me a rich woman for all those naked toddler pictures of Superman.”

He blushed at his mother’s jest and glanced at the clock. “As embarrassing as this trip has been down memory lane, I’ve got to go Mom.”

Martha continued to prod him.

“Just because you’re from another planet doesn’t mean you bypassed the same phase of refusing to put on clothes and run around naked like all the other toddlers out there. Because believe me son, you did. I guess it’s a good thing you still stop by occasionally to do some chores around here or else.”

“I’ll be back tonight. You know, for more abuse.”

“Be safe.”

“Mom…”

Her shoulders shrugged. “What? Mom’s worry alright? It gives me something to do. Now go.” She waved. “Duty calls I take it, so what is it this time? A fire? Natural disaster? Massive car pileup?”

His head shook. “My lunch hour at the Planet’s almost over.”

“Oh.” Almost instantly, the worn farm clothing disappeared as Superman’s public image materialized.

“I’ll call before I come over. In case something comes up and it’s too late at night.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek before disappearing into the blue sky.

The well chewed pen was again, on its way to receive more teeth marks as Lois chewed at it. The computer print-outs that had been marked with Richard’s scribbles were leafed through as the pen remained lodged in her mouth.

“You know Lois, one of these days a pen is going to leak ink all over.”

“Well maybe then I’ll learn.” She scanned the pages and waved the chewed end at the man. “Better than smoking, right? Yeah. I thought so.”

“Not much out there about Fine. Believe me, what I did find about him wasn’t easy” Richard admitted.

Lois crossed her legs on the floor and glared at the pages, as if she could will more information to materialize on the papers.

“It doesn’t make sense. How’d this guy get all that cash to buy Warwick out? No records of him working his way up the food chain anywhere, no rich widow or trust fund.”

“Nope, called a friend in London, maybe he made some money in Europe or Asia.” His head shook. “Turned up nothing.”

“He didn’t just fall from the sky.” She began to chew the pen again. “Everyone’s got a paper trail, a history. I’m telling you, when I met him, Fine gave me the creeps. Something isn’t kosher and I’ll be damned if I don’t get to the bottom of…Sonofa!” Lois yelped as her hand wiped blue ink from her chin.

“Told you.”

Lois glared. “Watch it flyboy. I can stick this where the sun don’t…”

“Mommy?” Jason hovered in the doorway. “My show’s not on.” Sounds of the television drifted into the room.

“Did you put on your channel?”

The boy nodded. “Uh huh. But it’s not on. Some news man. He’s boooooring.”

Lois frowned. “I cannot believe my own child; my flesh and blood thinks the news is boring.”

“He’s five.” Richard stood and walked into the living room to investigate why re-runs of “Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood” were interrupted.

“Almost six, but still” She called. “It’s insulting!” Lois turned toward Jason. “Did Daddy make you a good sandwich for lunch?”

“It was okay.” He hesitated. “Daddy didn’t cut the crusts off like you usually do.”

“Well, looks like you survived despite the crusts” she grinned and spoke with utmost sincerity.

Her fingers rustled through the hair on top of Jason’s head. Lois noted it had begun to darken, with any semblance of good fortune, it would only grow as dark as her own chestnut hue.

Occasional footsteps pounded overhead, her mother was still there and from the location of the noises above was possibly in her bedroom.

“I’ll be upstairs for a minute, I’d better see what Mom’s up to.”

The search for her mother ended at the guest bedroom. “Well, sweetie I’ve got to get back home. Interesting morning.”

“Yeah.”

“Her hand held a framed photograph of her grandson that had mysteriously appeared from Lois’s own dresser. “He does look like his father.”

“I know. That’s what bothers me. Someone’s bound to figure it out.”

“I don’t think so. Honey, people will only see what they’re lead to believe, not always the truth. They can be two incredibly different things.”

“Yes, well I suppose that’s why there are reporters” she smiled. “I don’t want to hold you up; I’ve got a busy afternoon. There are apartment searches I should do, and I’ve got to figure out what to wear tomorrow night.” She sighed.

“Tomorrow?”

“I’ve been somewhat coerced into attending the Pulitzer dinner tomorrow; I really don’t think I’ve got much lurking in the closet.” She wandered into her own bedroom as Ella followed. “My last dress was pretty waterlogged.”

Ella shivered at the unpleasant occasion recalled. “Right. Look, I don’t mind watching Jason but, don’t you think it’s a bit awkward going with Richard?”

“Who says he’s going?”

“He’s not?”

“No. I may be a bit hardnosed, but I’m not cruel Mom. My reporting partner’s going with me. It makes the most sense considering half of what I write shares his byline.”

“Your partner…”

“Clark Kent, you’ve never met. Oh, never mind.”

She frowned as her hand whisked the hangars rapidly from one end of the closet to the other. This was pointless, everything was completely unsuitable.

Braving the suburbanite housewives and SUV’s at a mall was the last thing she wanted to do, but sadly it seemed to be a mounting necessity. She needed a dress.

“Wasn’t he the gentleman you were partnered with years ago?”

”The one and only.”

“Ah.”

Lois eyed her mother suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! It’s just surprising you’ve asked him considering you were pretty upset he moved out of the country and barely said a word to you about it.”

“He wasn’t my first choice of an escort.”

“But he’s still going with you.”

“Mom…”

“I’d better get downstairs and say good-bye to Richard and gather up my Grandson. The traffic’s going to start getting heavier.” Ella kissed her daughter on the cheek and gave a brief hug. “Good luck tomorrow.”

After Ella came down the stairs and entered the living room, she spoke to her would have-been son in law.

“Well Richard, I’ve got to get going, I’ll see you later.” She turned to Jason and touched her grandson’s shoulder. “You and I have a few more days to go on our week together.”

Jason grinned and nodded. “Let’s go Grandma!”

Lois, who had followed Ella downstairs, shot her mother a hesitation. “Mom, Richard and I need to talk to him.”

Ella understood. “It can wait a few more days.” She soothed as Jason scurried to collect his crayons, shoes and backpack.

“Mom…”

“Really Lois, don’t you think a few days will sort out a few things?”

Unfortunately, her Mom had a valid point. More time was what was necessary to sort out and address things between her and Richard. Custody, logistics, where they would live, important details.

“Bye baby” Lois kissed her son as a brief hug was exchanged. “Go say bye to Daddy.”

She herded her son into the living room. Her eyes fell upon the television screen and what had kept Richard’s interest since he left the kitchen. Lois froze.

LaSalle and 25th Street, where she had spent a significant chunk of time earlier in mid-day traffic was on the large screen. An enormous hole had replaced what hours before, had been asphalt and concrete.

“Rescuers say that Superman had arrived as the street was collapsing. The buildings across the intersection would have collapsed if the sink hole had continued to expand. Fortunately, Superman again prevented massive destruction and saved countless lives of Metropolitans who were at work in those buildings, as we are still in the middle of a mid-week work day.”

The camera panned across the large pit in the middle of 25th Street. Smoke continued to rise from the subterranean depths.

“Of course we can only speculate at this point, but it seems as though construction work to reinforce old coal tunnels that were damaged in the earthquake six months ago was underway; a possible cause for the collapse of the infrastructure beneath.”

Lois inhaled sharply.

The reporter’s voice echoed in the still living room. “Witnesses report hearing a loud boom and claim the street began to ripple, and then buckle. Sinking, as a hole formed. We’ll have more as the cause of the collapse is determined. Most notably, traffic will be congested for months to come since this particular intersection is at the busiest part of the New Troy Financial district. This is George Iverson GBS news.”

“Damn.” She muttered. “Of all the days I have off…If Polly gets front page because I’m not there…”

“Lois, for goodness sakes, you can’t cover every story as far as Superman’s concerned.” Ella cut Lois off at the pass.

“I can try.”

“Go, run your errands and relax a little. Superman will save someone again; most likely you’ll be there to get the story. At the moment you’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

Lois sulked out the door with an overwhelming sense that Ella would always have the ability to brush her adult daughter out the door as if she were still a young girl.

Jimmy Olson scrolled through photographs that had just been uploaded from the street collapse at LaSalle and 25th Street. Most of the pictures were of emergency personnel and dazed construction workers. His index finger flicked the mouse down repeatedly. There. The money shot.

Amidst the smoke stood in sharp contrast was Superman who carried an injured worker. Seared into the young photographer’s memory was what shortly followed his shutter that captured the rescue.

Superman had turned, locked eyes with the photographer and nodded in acknowledgement. He gave a quick flick of the wrist in a small but noticeable wave toward the freckle-faced man whose mouth hung open in slight surprise.

Despite the few and brief conversations that had transpired between himself and the hero, the personal acknowledgement from Superman always amazed him. As if they shared an unspoken friendship.

Lois had been insistent that he could not read minds or emotions, but lately, whenever their lines of sight intersected he could not shake a strong sense that Superman knew he had refused to hand over photographs of his lifeless body to Perry, or anyone else for that matter.

The vivid colors of Superman’s blue and red uniform had been muddled by the brown dirt and dark gash that marred the side of the hero’s torso. Jimmy’s hands that held large glossy copies trembled.

“What have you got there Jimmy?”

“Oh nothing Clark. Just some photos I’m trashing. They’re not very-“

“Always your toughest critic Jim.” With a swift deft move, Lois slipped next to him and yanked the glossies from his sweaty hand.

“Lois! Give those back.”

“She’s right Jimmy,” Clark added as he walked up to Lois. “You’re a pretty swell photographer, I always like getting assigned with you to cover…” his voice trailed as he stood and looked over Lois’s shoulder.

Jimmy’s feet shifted his weight and his blue eyes stared at the floor. He could not bring himself to look at the wounded expression on Lois’s face again. Clark’s hand had pushed back his hair and he looked in complete disbelief at the images, squinting again.

“D-Did you take these?” He queried somberly.

“Yeah.” Fingernails scratched at the back of his neck. He focused on the marble floor. “I did.”

“These were never printed. At least not that I recall.”

“I know.”

Lois whispered. “If Perry knew about them, they would have been on the front page.”

“He saw them. I refused...” The photographer reluctantly looked up again at the reporters. Both of them intently focused on him.

“Jimmy, I’ve never seen these anywhere, you could have sold them for a lot of money.” Clark stated. “You still could.”

The young man’s legs found the ability to walk again and he spoke as the photos were snatched back from Lois’s grasp. She did not protest.

“You’re right.” He swallowed. “They weren’t printed or ever sold. Yeah I could have fetched a nice price for them but I, I couldn’t do it.”

Jimmy slipped the glossies into the shredder then flicked on his computer and sighed as the machine sprung to life.

“No body else is going to see them either.”

His attention was fixed to the screen as a file was resurrected. A digital image of the destroyed copies pulled up onto the screen. With rapid clicks of the mouse, the originals were deleted. He sat in the seat.

“I just couldn’t do it. I mean, it just seems wrong. He’s saved our lives so many times.” Jimmy’s eyes grew glassy. “He looked so, broken. Lifeless.” The tears were blinked away and he added. “No one needed to see him that way. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s Superman.”

Lois’s hand rested on his shoulder and in silent gratitude gave a tight squeeze.

“Yeah, no one needs to see him like that.” She murmured. “I’m sure wherever he is, if he knew you did that for him, he’d appreciate it.”

The hardened reporter was visibly disturbed by the extremely vulnerable condition that was graphically portrayed when Superman had crashed to Earth, when he had saved them all.

“Olsen!” Barked the Editor in Chief. “What did you get? Better be something I can use and in my hands in five minutes. I’m out the door for an afternoon meeting across town.” A coat slipped over Perry’s shoulders.

“Right Chief!”

“Don’t call me th-“

“Perry, Mr. White!” Jimmy corrected.

Clark adjusted his seat and settled into it at the immaculate desk. He had been chewing on the remainder of a sandwich as Jimmy waved to gain his attention.

The reporter’s head rose above the computer screen and cubicle partitions as he craned his neck.

“Hey Jimmy, afternoon!” He muffled through a mouthful of partially chewed meatloaf and bread.

“Clark, do you know where Richard is? I’ve got some photos from yesterday that need his approval for international. From the trade summit going on.”

Polly, who sat near Clark, sent him an irritated glance. “Some of us have work to do Kent. Unlike you, I worked through lunch, covering a story. A big one.”

His shoulders shrugged in apology.

“Oh, sorry.”

“A Superman story” she added triumphantly. “For once, Lois wasn’t here to beg, cheat and steal to get to it first.”

“She doesn’t do that.” He marveled. “Perry assigns her.” Personally, a small part of him enjoyed the concept that his partner proved to be a ruthless pit-bull for himself as the story. Well, his other half as far as he was concerned. Anyway, it was endearing in a way only Lois was able to pull off.

“Oh yes, she does. She complains plenty about covering him again, or used to when he just came back, but your little cup-cake of a partner damn near broke my kneecaps with an umbrella last week to beat me to the elevator when a Superman story broke.”

“I never noticed.”

The slightly older woman patted him on the shoulder. “I know Clark. You’ve missed a few things here and there. Love is blind.” She winked in jest.

Shaking his head, Clark made his way to Jimmy’s desk. “Richard’s not here today.”

“Out of town again? I should transfer to international, must be nice to fly to Paris, Moscow, Rome at a moment’s notice.”

“I doubt international affairs are all that pressing in his kitchen, he’s got the day off.”

The printer on the photographer’s desk hummed.

“Funny, he didn’t mention it when he left yesterday. He knew I was going to look at some pictures for him today.”

Caroline, a younger reporter from entertainment had been walking past and could not refrain from the conversation she overheard between the two men.

“I don’t think he knew he was taking the day off” she interjected.

Jimmy looked to his friend in curiosity. “Hmm.” The young man’s eyes glanced quickly in admiration at the woman’s figure. Second to Lois, hers was definitely the best on the Planet’s staff.

“Just speculation of course, but I think it’s got everything to do with Lois. No offense Clark” she gushed animatedly. “I think their engagement is off!”

“Nah, not Lois and Richard. They’ve been engaged forever.”

“Exactly, why haven’t they tied the knot yet?” The slender woman flicked her blonde hair. “And can you explain then, why has she been at the office for the past two days without wearing her engagement ring?” Her eyebrows rose dramatically. “Hmm?” Without waiting for an answer, Caroline resumed in the direction of her destination. She paused briefly and called over her shoulder “In the gossip world two and two is always four.”

Jimmy’s eyes crossed and mockingly parroted “In the gossip world… yeah, like that’s really news.” He became somber again and turned to Clark in question. “Did any of that make sense to you?”

“A little.” Clark shifted.

“Had you already heard about any of this?”

“I might have, “the reporter spoke hesitantly before he quickly stood and excused himself. “I’ve got work to do; you know how Perry is about deadlines. Besides, I wouldn’t talk about it anymore until you hear it from the pit bull’s mouth.”

“Right.” Jimmy sighed. One thing was apparent, gossip had begun to simmer and when Miss Lane came back tomorrow, things would boil over. As obnoxious as Caroline was, the photographer had a sinking suspicion that her theory was correct.

“I hate the mall” Lois grumbled as her hands swatted the bags that hung from her arms to close the front door. “Home to Stepford clones and brainless drivers.”

“Lois, where have you been?” Her eyes widened. No, her boss was not in her house on her day off.

Yes, yes he was. Damn it.

She teetered on one foot, kicked off a shoe and then the opposite. “I’ve been out braving the mall for a dress. You know for the thing I’m forced to attend. I seem to remember you had a hand in all this rubbage.”

Lois made her way down the hallway into the den where Richard sat with his uncle. Both looked sullen. This was not a positive sign.

“Lois, you and I need to talk. Now. Get your keys, leave the phone and purse here, I’ll explain later. Meet me in five minutes at Fred’s Dinner.” Before Lois could reply, her editor in chief Perry White turned on his heel and closed the front door behind himself.

Her wide eyes in question, she looked towards her boss’s nephew, who appeared equally dumbfounded.

“Will you be here when I get back?” Her eyes searched Richard’s for reassurance. She did not want to come back to an empty house.

He nodded. “I’ve got a few more things to get before I leave. I’ll wait.” A weak smile forced its way onto his lips.

The chewed cuticles and fingernails that Lois had massacred drummed on the Formica tabletop. The occupant of the seat cross from her plunked down the heavy diner mug.

“Well, you’ve got my attention Perry. It had better be one hell of an apology since you actually left the office during work hours.” Lois whistled. “Never thought I’d see the day. Now what’s with the mystery?”

“I’ve got my reasons. Which is why I’m here.”

“Miss me already? That’s touching Perry; I know it’s not the same when I’m not there.”

“Can the warm fuzzies Lane, what I’ve got to say we can’t talk about at work.”

“If this is about your nephew…”

Her editor’s head shook and he cut directly to the purpose of his visit. “You’ve hit a nerve with someone from Furgeson’s interview.”

“Doubtful. It was a pathetic PR piece for their office.” She flicked the lighter that had been stashed in her pants pocket absent mindedly. “In fact, I’m expecting a Thank You note any day. Spun that bullshit construction they’re doing pretty well in their favor I’d say. No thanks to myself though. You managed to twist my words pretty well without my contribution.”

“Why in the blazes did you think it was chopped up so much?” He hissed.

The index finger on the lighter froze. “You edited it. Wow, you are getting old. Senile too.”

“It wasn’t exactly voluntarily.” Perry’s eyes flitted around the suburban diner and resigned to his sandwich. He was damn hungry. After swallowing a bite, he added “Had quite a bit of pressure from upper management.”

Lois remained unimpressed and deservedly skeptical.

“So? Since when did you give up the good fight against the suits upstairs and compromise your” her fingers quoted the air “journalistic integrity?”

The man’s hands grabbed hers and slammed them onto the table with urgency. “Since I found out someone’s tapped your phone lines at home, work and are monitoring your email and computer files.”

She stared at him. “What?” Her mouth ran dry. “Sick joke Chief. Really not funny.”

Perry remained somber, deadpanned. “No joke kid, wish it were. You hooked someone’s interest.”

“It was just an interview.”

“It was the digging you were doing after the interview. About the city contracts with the construction company.”

“I’ve pissed off a lot of people with articles before.” Lois took a swig of coffee. “One more notch on the belt. When someone’s mad, it usually means I should keep digging.”

“This time, you should stop.”

“No. Give me a little credit. I don’t scare easily.”

“I know, but Lois…”he grew frustrated and concerned. “Someone’s tapped all of your communication…and got police approval to do it.”

“I’ll use Clark’s laptop, go to his or Jimmy’s place to send emails if I have to.”

“Lois, Police approved the tap of your lines. Do you know the amount of red tape this person had to go through to get that?”

“And just how would you even know my lines are being monitored, bugged, whatever’s been done to them?”

“You’ve got your sources, I’ve got mine. I was a reporter for a hell of a lot longer than you’ve even been around. A few folks down there at the Police station owe me a few. I didn’t go looking for this information. Someone told me, thought the whole thing stunk.”

Lois began to chew on a cuticle and blankly looked out the window; a gust of wind had caused a shower of brilliant leaves to cascade from the trees ablaze in autumn color.

“Have your lines been tapped?”

“Not that I’m aware of” he answered.

Her hand motioned for her boss’s cell phone. Perry sighed and retrieved it from his trouser pocket. Her fingers punched a number in rapid fire.

The editor was not amused. If Lois dragged him into whatever mess in which she had landed herself this time, it would be less than thrilling. There was a paper to run, staff to corral; he did not have time for this garbage.

Besides, Alice would have his rear-end served to him on a platter if she found out he had been dabbling in investigative prospects again.

“Who are you calling?” The palm of his reporter’s hand was the only answer. “Lois” he growled.

“Clark” she emphasized. “Did you happen to send me that email yet?”

“Yeah, um why?”

The palm of her hand hit her forehead with a “slap.”

“Thanks. It’s just…well, complicated.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Fine” she snapped. “Peachy keen. Just don’t send me anything else.”

“Are you sure? Lois, you asked me to send you anything I found on the-“

“Just don’t alright?” I’ll see you in the morning” she snapped.

After the phone slid across the table to its owner, she glared at the coffee cup.

“Well I’m assuming whatever my partner sent me is privy to prying eyes.”

“Probably.”

“Fantastic. Guess I’d better get back home and see what he sent me.”

“Didn’t you hear a word I said?”

“Every syllable.” She stood and left cash on the table. “If someone can read my emails before I have, it doesn’t matter. At least I’d know what the heck it said.”

Perry and Lois walked down the sidewalk to their cars on the tree-lined street. The falling leaves crunched underfoot. Perry stopped at his sedan.

“You’re not going to wave the white flag on this one are you?”

“Nope.” Her nose began to sting with the cold.

“Just promise me something then. Do it below the radar.” The car door opened. Lois nodded. It would be slower to gather information but like hell she’d roll over and play dead.

“You’ve got a new assignment waiting for you tomorrow. G 8 economic summit’s in town. Ten AM at the Whiltshire building.”

“So you’ve taken me off city completely. Thanks.”

“If you’re off city, then you can’t go sniffing around where you don’t belong. At least not on my time” he added.

“It’s international.”

“I know. It can’t be helped unless you want to cover life and entertainment.” She visibly cringed at the thinly veiled threat. “Richard and yourself share a child, you work at the same company, same floor. Be adults about this and be professional.” He glared in warning. “I don’t need any gossip other than what goes on the Page Nine section. Got it?”

“Loud and clear. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got house hunting to get to.”

“Oh Lane,” he called. “Don’t forget, business as usual. Phone, internet. All that stuff.”

“Geez old man, what kind of moron do you think I am?” She stormed off.

“The kind that loves trouble” he muttered as he slipped into the drivers seat and slammed the door.

After Lois had found her own car; her hand hovered over the door handle and froze. Her blood ran cold. Jason, Mom talked about Jason over the telephone. If anyone heard that conversation, my God.

Her legs numb sprinted across the pavement and frantically, she jumped into the street, in front of the black Accord that Perry drove.

The car rocked on its suspension shortly after the tires squealed on the asphalt. Burnt rubber stung Lois’s nostrils. Her terrified eyes locked with the editor.

Through the glass, Lois’s voice was elevated in fear. “When did they tap my phones?”

The window rolled down and Perry’s silver hair emerged from the drivers side.

“What?”

“When did they tap my phones Perry?”

“I can’t be sure.”

Despite the instability in her knees and their unreliability, she made her way to the open window amidst the occasional cars that passed and curious expressions of pedestrians. Her hot heavy breath came at short intervals and was felt across the face of the dumbfounded editor.

“Please Perry. This is important.” The skin beneath her fingernails became white as they tightly clung to the open window of the car’s frame. “I have to know.” Her wide eyes searched his.

“I can’t be absolutely certain. Early this week, maybe Tuesday.”

Lois exhaled in relief. “Nothing before that?”

“Probably not. Like I said, I can’t be certain. Could have been Monday. Tony Fine seemed awfully curious about the hours a few of my staff kept. Yourself and Kent particularly. Around the time you interviewed the mayor I seem to recall.”

“Any chance over the weekend? I wasn’t in the office; they could have done it then.”

“Why is the date so important? I’d just be concerned as hell someone’s ticked enough to watch your every move. But that’s just me.”

“Your police contact. Give it up Perry.”

“I don’t think you’ll get anywhere.” Perry sighed, as if he already could retract the statement he was about to utter. “I’ll let you know at work in the morning.”

“I can’t wait that long.”

“Lois, what’s this all about?”

Sadness fell across the furrows of her tired face. “Perry, I can’t tell you.”

“Alright, tomorrow then. It’s the soonest I can get the dates.” He glanced at the dashboard clock. “I’ve got to get back.”

“Right. Tell me one thing. Who’s listening?”

“I’ve got my suspicions, nothing more.”

“You know” she accused. “Damn it, tell me” she pleaded.

“I’m risking my neck to tell you that much. Please, just business as usual kid.”

“Fine.” Lois muttered as Perry rolled up the window. She wasn’t certain, but would damn near bet her press pass her boss’s movement hitched at her last remark. If Fine wants a show, then he shall get one.

Lois restlessly paced the dock as the choppy water lapped at the pilings beneath. “My phone lines were tapped. My emails are being monitored. I can barely so much as sneeze without someone knowing. I thought it was important for you to know.”

Superman nodded. The sharp wind caused his cape to billow behind him. “Did your boss tell you when the wiretaps started?”

“He doesn’t know.” She raked her fingers through her hair and shivered at the mounting cold. “It’s the not knowing that’s impossible. My mother and I had a conversation over the telephone over the weekend, she called completely flipping out. It was when she found out how strong Jason is, that he’s your son.”

Despite the somewhat stoic veneer, immediate concern for his son’s safety was apparent. Someone may have heard that Jason was his. He turned to the house and scanned the contents to locate the wiretaps.

“Your boss is right Lois, your house is bugged, computer and each phone line. Your cell phone as well.”

“Great. Can you send them into orbit for me?”

His head shook.

Lois shivered in the cold early evening. “Well, one can hope.” She smiled despite the gravity of the predicament.

“Probably it would be best to keep an appearance that you’re unaware of the wires.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard something like that. You know I don’t ask for favors, well, except for if I happen to be dangling off a building, but I need to know if someone heard about Jason. If so, we’ve got to figure something out.”

“Did Mr. White happen to mention to you how he came across the information?”

“The police, some contact that he refused to give up.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance at Perry’s stubborn behavior. “If something happens to him…” she choked and her hands began to shake. She forced them into the pockets of her jeans to cease the involuntary spasms.

“I’ll get to the central station as soon as I can. I’ll see what I can find. A few people owe me a few favors.” His eyes glittered as he smiled in reassurance.

He approached Lois, stood in the pathway of her pacing and provided an abrupt disruption by placing a hand on each of her biceps. He dipped his head and pressed his forehead against hers. The sudden intimate gesture caused Lois to look up at the blue eyes that searched hers.

“Lois” He spoke softly with confidence. “I will not let anyone harm our son. You have my word.”

She swallowed. “Go.” Urgency was felt in her simple statement. “Hurry Kal El, please.” She whispered as he launched into the air over the bay.

Hope you found it a fun read, I did promise that the prior chapter although seemingly disjointed, would tie in and it would all start to make sense. Please, let me know if it struck a cord with you, or left you flat. Feedback always helps to improve my writing!

Preview for next chapter: Lois has to tell Richard she's going to the Pulitzer's and not with him and the next day keeps up appearances despite knowing that the new owner is far too interested in every facet of her life. Oh, there's that little thing that's been causing butterflies all day, Clark. Her date. Things just aren't the same between them. No matter what she keeps telling herself.

“I’ve got to go; I’m headed back to Perry’s tonight. I can’t stay here.” He turned as her hand slipped from his shoulder. He retreated. The keys in his pocket jingled as his hand retrieved them. “Tomorrow after work we can talk about the house. Should sleep on it I suppose.”

Tomorrow night. The Pulitzer’s. Great. She had hoped that was a topic to avoid, of course no such fortune. Rip the Band-Aid off. Quickly.

“I can’t.”

“What, you’ve got a date?” He joked.

“Not exactly. I’ve got to go to the Pulitzer ceremony. I wouldn’t call the escort of your uncle, owner and my klutzy partner a glamorous date.”

“Oh.” Hurt apparent in his voice.

“Don’t be jealous, I’m not entirely thrilled to be going. Sort of coarsed but I’m not in the mood to get into the ins and outs of that. I’ll be drinking after my acceptance blurb. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Right, well I’m off. See you at work tomorrow then.”

Richard bit his tongue to prevent himself from the commonplace farewell of “love you, see you later.”