Recovery (Superman Returns) 5/?
RECOVERY
RATING: PG-13 (for now)
PAIRING: Eventual Lois&Clark.
SUMMARY: Lex Luthor's plotting anew while Lois, Richard, Jason and Clark come to terms with changes to their lives after Superman returns. (Ch.5: 4809 words)
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: The credit goes to the beta-queen htbthomas.
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR
Even without his superpowers tracking her heartbeat, Clark would have been instantly aware that Lois Lane was back at the Planet. A certain kind of hush fell over the newsroom when she strode down the aisle. The only noise besides her staccato footsteps was the news announcer droning on about Chinese preparations for a new commercial space launch. Trotting a few steps behind her, Jimmy Olsen clutched his cameras tightly and seemed to be concentrating on keeping his breakfast down. When Lois stopped suddenly at Clark's desk, the unprepared photographer plowed right into the senior reporter.
Lois emitted an aggrieved sigh. "Get the prints, Jimmy?"
The photographer fumbled for his equipment, nodding distractedly. "Colour or black and white?"
"Both!" Lois said, watching Jimmy stumble his way to the darkroom. Once he was out of sight, her brows furrowed as she turned to regard her partner.
"That was cheating!"
"Wuh-wuh-what was cheating, Lois?" Clark asked, though he was pretty sure that she was referring to his speedy departure in the morning when his super hearing alerted him to a bridge collapsing in Venezuela. Lois hadn't known about the last part, of course. As far as she was concerned, Clark had merely pulled another of his inexplicable disappearing acts.
"You heading off on me before I had a chance to fix our assignments. That was cheating! Well, it all worked out in the end. Roscoe's turned out to be an interesting dead end. His body was found this morning when the police went to serve the warrant. Murder," Lois explained as she stifled a yawn. Clark noted with some concern that she appeared stressed and jittery despite the obvious exhaustion.
Perry threw open his office door. "Lane? What's this I hear about you two stumbling onto a murder scene? In here, now!" With a resigned sigh, Lois complied, Clark following as well at Perry's impatient summons. When Lois laid out her morning's shocking discoveries, Perry was quick to change the story assignments he'd laid out earlier.
"Gangland connections? Mob murders? Is the Cosa Nostra involved? Maybe Roscoe was playing both sides against the middle: stealing from the feds while he two-timed some criminals! I want you to give me something for page one and stat. Clark? Copy for a sidebar on Roscoe's finances and see if you can come up with any funny business in his past. Maybe explain this all."
Lois interrupted Perry's stream of thought. "Chief? I think that Henderson raised an interesting point when he talked about how the mutilations were the same m.o. as Luthor used to order." Clark nodded emphatically but neither Perry nor Lois paid him any attention as he stood uneasily near the door.
"Lois, you know that Interpol and the feds say Luthor's dead. Lost cause. Give it up, already."
Lois shook her head sharply. "Just because they did some calculations on the range of his helicopter and figured he couldn't have made it anywhere still doesn't convince me. I mean, a year ago nobody would have thought he could create a whole new continent and he came damn close to that. I'll believe he's dead when I see his cold body laid out in the morgue."
"And when that happens, we'll run it page one. Until then, though, you don't have any evidence and, pardon me, Lois, but I thought this was a newspaper. We report the news, we don't make it up. Give me what you've got on this by four o'clock. I'm going to see if Frank has anything to add from his series on organized crime." With a wave, Perry shooed the reporters out the door.
Lois stomped one foot in frustration. "Why can't that man see?"
Clark opened his mouth to answer, but seeing his partner already en route to her desk, shut his mouth and trailed in her wake. "I think you're right about Luthor," he offered, not just to see her sudden smile, of course, though he felt himself warm at her bright expression.
She's with Richard, he reminded himself, she just needs a friend and a partner. More than anyone else on the planet, Clark had reason to fear what Luthor might do next. The strain of jettisoning the poisonous bulk of New Krypton into space had almost been beyond him. By his calculations, Lex Luthor had five more control crystals from the Fortress, capable of duplicating such a monstrous feat. Clark's only real questions were when and where; questions he desperately sought to answer as he hunted for his nemesis.
Aware he'd gone silent for too long, Clark looked down to see Lois regarding him with fond bemusement. "Earth to Clark! Look, thanks for the support, Clark," Lois said. "But until we get some more evidence, Perry's not going to listen. I don't suppose you dug up anything useful in your own research?"
Clark made as if to rush to his desk, then turned back to Lois, then away again. She reached out a hand to his forearm. "Whoa, there. Just tell me," she urged.
Clark shrugged. "It took some doing, but I had an in with the registrations bureau in the Caymans" -- an x-ray vision in, he thought to himself - "still, all I could find is that there were three numbered companies registered on the same day and all with the same officers. One's a landholding company, one's seems to be import/export and the third was the one we already knew about, buying technology from Roscoe. That's as much as I could get from the government offices."
Lois' eyes brightened. "That's better than nothing. Let's get these stories done for Perry and see what we can do with the rest of our information. See if we can make some hard and fast connections to Luthor." She paused to contain another shuddering yawn.
"More coffee?" Clark offered.
"Too much more caffeine and I could power all of Metropolis," Lois said ruefully. "I tell you what. Would you take some dictation? Help me with this story? My typing's probably shot all to hell and I remember you were always a great touch-typist. Sooner we can get these done, the sooner we can get going on the real investigation."
Clark was happy to oblige. He, too, wanted to dig more on the possible link to Luthor and he knew better than anyone that while Lois might be a great reporter, she was neither the fastest or most accurate typist on staff. Truth be told, she might be the worst, he thought with a smile as his fingers flew at remarkable but still believable speed over the keyboard. But that's what partners were for.
***
After several hours of calling contacts for more background, pumping Frank for more insight into the relatively insular world of organized crime in Metropolis (Clark committed these details to memory, figuring that Superman might need to get involved), they had their stories. Lois insisted Clark share the byline, "Look, I've been almost catatonic for the past hour while you put this story together," she said. Rubbing her eyes ruefully, she looked at the time.
"After we get this okayed by Perry, there's not going to be enough time to do much on the rest of our research," Lois glanced at her watch again. At least not before I have to pick up Jason from his after-school care."
Clark nodded. "Look, Lois, you look really tired. Maybe you should just pick up Jason and go home now. I can finish things up here with Perry, you know, if you want. . . ." His voice trailed off hesitantly and Lois found herself fighting the impulse to pat him on the head as she would Jason. Clark could be so sweet, she mused. Normally, she would be one of the last ones to leave the paper when in the throes of a good investigation, but then normal didn't include Richard being out of town -- maybe more -- and herself operating on two hours fitful sleep.
"Okay," she found herself saying, "but on one condition. You come by our house for dinner tonight. We can go over the research then and if I conk out, I'm only steps away from my own bed."
Clark looked at her in silence and Lois grew uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," she said. "Do you have a date tonight or something?" The thought of awkward Clark on a date left her feeling a bit uneasy, perhaps, Lois told herself, because she felt sure he'd be hopelessly henpecked.
"N-n-no, Lois," Clark replied, seeming alarmed. "No, I was just going to have a quiet night." He looked up in surprise as she swiftly rose from her desk.
"Then, good, it's settled. I'll head home with Jason and you can come by at six thirty. You know where we live, over on Riverside?” Clark nodded silently. “Of course, there’s not much to eat in the house.” She frowned, chewing on her lip. “Pizza sound good?" Lois slipped her arms into the coat sleeves and cinched her belt before meeting Clark's wide eyed stare. "Pizza?" she prompted.
“Uh, sure, Lois,” he said, and then seemed to reconsider. “Actually, why don’t I bring something else.”
Lois grimaced. Her son’s special diet took a lot of care and she wasn’t sure that a bachelor like Clark would pay attention to such matters. “You know that Jason can’t eat most foods. I don’t want it to be a problem. The local pizza place we have on speed-dial makes him a gluten and dairy-free pizza that he’ll eat. I don’t know about any place else-”
Clark interrupted her long winded explanation. “I know about Jason’s allergies. But I remember he was talking about being tired of pizza when he was here in the office last week. I thought I’d pick up from the Chinese place over on 49th. We’ve eaten from there before when Jason was with you in the evening here at the office. Richard ordered the tofu and steamed vegetables with the sauce on the side for him, right? Jason said he really liked it.”
Lois blinked a couple times, surprised at the evidence of Clark’s powers of observation though she really shouldn’t be. He was a reporter, after all, and Jason spent almost as much time at “Mister Clark’s” desk as in Richard’s office. “Sure, that would be a nice change. But I should pay.” She reached into her wallet and pulled out a couple of twenties, pressing them at Clark. “I insist.”
With visible reluctance, he accepted the bills from her outstretched hands. Lois marched off to the elevator, stifling yet another yawn. This might be a record, she thought, as she exited the newsroom floor: the first time Lois was early to pick up Jason from his daycare as well as the first time Clark had come to their house. It was only a pity that Richard wouldn’t be there, either, she thought, then pushed the regret aside. At some point they’d have to address his concerns but not right now.
***
Jason was happy to hear Clark would be coming by the house and bringing dinner, to boot. When pressed by his mother, he confessed that he was growing tired of the pizza which had become a near staple in their fast-paced lives. Lois felt chagrined that she’d missed noticing this change in her son’s tastes but his fierce hug soon convinced her that it wasn’t the end of the world. Ruffling his hair (and mentally wondering if he’d ever be enough his biological father’s son to resist a mere scissors’ trim), she sent him off to play in his room while she attempted a quick nap.
The plan worked because the next thing she knew, the doorbell was ringing and Jason was pelting down the stairs. “Mister Clark, Mister Clark!” he hollered, jumping up and down impatiently while his mother descended to the ground floor. Glancing at the hallway mirror, she sighed before opening the door. She looked quite a mess, but there wasn’t too much to worry about. It was only Clark and he was coming to work.
Putting on a smile, she opened the door to a staggering pile of takeout bags balanced in the grip of what was, presumably, her tall co-worker. “Clark?” she asked hesitantly.
“Lois?” It was Clark’s voice, a little frazzled. Automatically she relieved him of one large takeout bag and his face emerged. “Thanks.”
“Hi there, Mister Clark,” Jason said. He peeked around from behind Lois, seemingly suddenly shy. Lois twisted to regard her son fondly. “Hey Jason, can you be the host and show Clark here the way to the kitchen while I get the door.” Given a job, Jason shed his bashful stance and was chatting while he directed Clark towards the rear of the house. Soon Lois was dishing up food from a seemingly endless array of dishes. “You got too much, Clark,” she complained.
Clark paused while tucking his napkin into his collar, “I guess I was really hungry,” he apologized. Lois noticed, with some amusement, that Jason nodded vigorously before tucking into his food.
“I got another tofu dish that Jason might be able to try,” Clark said quietly, watching Jason focused on cutting his veggies. “It doesn’t have any added sauce and it’s mostly vegetables. It’s all foods that you and Richard have allowed him to eat before.”
Lois knit her brow. “Are you sure?” The last thing she wanted was to take Clark’s blithe assurance as security and end up rushing Jason to the hospital. It looked innocuous enough: strips of peppers, greens and tofu in a stir-fry.
He nodded and reached into his jacket pocket. “I had them write down the ingredients.” He handed the paper to her.
Lois regarded it in puzzlement. “Clark, it’s in Chinese.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I can read it if you’d like.” Her eyes widened, Clark translated the list of ingredients that corresponded to Jason’s restricted diet.
“Um, sure, Clark. That sounds fine but we’ll just let him have a small serving tonight in case there’s something they forgot.”
“Small serving of what?” Jason asked.
“This,” Lois indicated, spooning a serving of the new dish onto his plate. “Clark found something neat you can try.”
“Oh boy!” Jason exclaimed as he dug in. Savouring the taste he nodded and scooped up the rest. “It’s great, Mom! Can I have more?”
“Maybe tomorrow. I think we’re going to have lots of leftovers,” Lois said, ruefully. Jason frowned theatrically but tucked into his usual tofu dish without any more complaints. Turning towards Clark, she said, “I didn’t know you could read Chinese.”
“Oh,” he said blankly. “I. . . picked it up in my travels.”
“Right,” she said, pausing to enjoy some of her own rice noodle dish. “You really have to tell us more about that.”
He shrugged awkwardly. “Sometime, sure. But I guess we’ve got enough to do tonight and you don’t want to stay up too late.”
“No, you’re right. After dinner I’ll get Jason set up in the living room for his music practice. You don’t mind if we start going over our notes there, do you?”
“Not at all,” Clark managed before catching Jason’s attention. “If it’s okay with you that I work on this with your mom, Jason.”
“Sure thing, Mister Clark. And you can listen to me practice my Christmas music before I talk to my dad on the phone. He’s in Washington covering an important story, right, Mom?”
She nodded. That was good enough for now. Lois shooed Clark out to the living room with Jason while she cleaned up. Clark might be a good writing partner, but she didn’t want his klutziness to re-emerge in her kitchen with her dinnerware. In a short while the leftovers were stowed away and the phone was ringing. Lois held off her eager son with one upraised hand and answered. “Lane & White residence.”
“Lois? It’s me.” Richard’s voice sounded particularly tinny. He must be on his cellphone, she reasoned.
“Richard! How are things going in Washington?”
“Pretty good. There’s some major stuff coming out about Darfur and, well, you’ll read about it in tomorrow’s Planet. Perry’s pleased with the coverage and wants me to stay through the summit.”
Lois twisted the phone cord around her free hand. On the one hand, it was good for his career for Richard to get back out in the field. Sometimes he chafed at being so office-bound. On the other hand, his absence might give him time to brood over his worries. And it certainly was hard on Jason. She looked down at her son who was bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting to talk to his father.
“Well, you’ll be missed but a good story can’t be ignored. You’ll let us know if your plans change?”
“Of course,” Richard promised. Despite the reassuring words, Lois could still detect an emotional distance and wariness in her fiancé’s tone. It wasn’t going to be easy to get through to him.
Lois looked down at Jason. “You’ve got someone here who’s eager to tell you all about his day. Want to talk to Jason?”
Richard’s voice exuded happiness. “Sure thing! Put him on.”
Lois gracefully ceded the phone and watched Jason pour out the tale of his day, from the excitement of getting to water the turtle’s habitat that morning at school right through their evening. “And Mister Clark came over and he brought Chinese food and I tried something new and it was great and-”
“Whoa, there, sport. Clark came over?” Richard’s voice came through loud and clear on the loosely held handset and Lois could see, over in the living room, Clark seem to hunch even more into his tweed suit jacket while attempting to look engrossed in his research notes.
Seeing Jason try to stammer out an explanation, Lois intervened, picking up the phone. “Yes, Clark came over tonight so we could work on our research coming out of the surveyor’s murder.”
“I saw that in the online edition, Lois, and when I asked Uncle Perry about it he seemed to indicate it was gang-related?”
She looked down at Jason who grimaced in impatience and reached for the phone. Holding up one finger, she tried to quickly explain without alarm. “Well, you know that Perry and I don’t always agree about everything. I’m worried about, well, you know.”
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. “Do you really think so, Lois? I mean, you know what the investigators said.”
She felt herself stiffening. Lois didn’t want to have this discussion again about her belief in Lex Luthor’s survival, especially with Jason so close by. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to run with any assumptions. We’re looking at all the angles, here, Richard.”
She could almost hear him stifle his arguments. “Okay. Look, if you want, if you need me to, I can come back tonight. If you’re worried about, well, him.”
Lois raised one eyebrow impatiently. It was sweet of Richard to offer, but she had a feeling he was only doing this to humour her. “No thanks, Richard. I’m not worried about anything, just doing my job. Clark and I will go over our notes on this and then I’ll be off to bed early. It’s been a long few days.” A tug at her free arm reminded her of Jason, impatiently waiting to speak to Richard and she excused herself on his behalf.
Jason was soon content to be chatting on the phone, so Lois wandered back over to the living room. Clark had laid out his notes and print-outs in a few neat piles on the coffee table near Jason’s keyboard. “May I?” she asked.
Clark lifted one hand in an expansive wave of permission that almost knocked over his glass of water. “Oops!” Somehow he managed to fumble it back on the table without spilling a drop. Lois simply rolled her eyes in amusement while she picked up the first pile of papers.
The two reporters were soon absorbed in their material. Clark had a surprising amount of documents from the search for Lex Luthor as well as hi-res satellite images of a number of small atolls at or beyond the farthest range Luthor’s helicopter could have reached.
“There,” Lois said, peering at a small smudge on a tiny islet in one of the photos. “Maybe that’s it?”
Clark pointed one finger to the scale printed in the corner of the image. “Too small, Lois. That would be something the size of a gas can.”
She almost growled in frustration but looked up to see Jason in the doorway looking glum. “All done talking to Daddy?”
He nodded and came over to her, burrowing into her side. “I miss him.”
Lois hugged her son tightly. “He misses you, too, sweetie. But it’s his job. And he won’t be gone forever. Why, he’ll probably be home in a few days.”
Jason simply nodded silently and clung for a while. Finally he seemed ready to face things again and she set him down beside her to practice.
“Sorry,” she apologized to Clark.
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize to me, Lois. I don’t mind and I know it’s hard on a kid when their dad’s not around.” He seemed lost in thought for a few moments, then turned back to the papers in front of them. Lois was happy to pick up the cue. Soon they were back to tussling over the possibilities in the papers before them while Jason picked out some Christmas tunes on the keyboard.
“Look,” Lois said, “we may be going at this the wrong way. Instead of trying to trace where he landed or where Roscoe’s money came from, maybe we need to look at the middle.”
Clark looked up with an encouraging expression and Lois continued. “Maybe we need to track where the assets went after the disaster. Maybe if we can follow that trail, we can find him?”
Clark nodded. “I haven’t really looked into that much because it’s a bit of a mess. Gertrude Vanderworth’s family launched a new challenge to the will, didn’t they?”
Lois put on her reading glasses and flipped through the papers in one of her research folders. “Yes, in November they got an appeals court to put a freeze on her properties here in the state. But I don’t think that extended to any of the already liquidated assets.”
“Property,” Clark said, frowning thoughtfully. “So, like her house here in Metropolis and the country estate?”
“And a lot of commercial real estate, apparently,” Lois said, regarding the printouts in front of her. “As far as I know, they’re still under the court’s seal.”
Clark reached for the papers and Lois passed them over. She was surprised when he gave her a serious look. “You’re not thinking of going off to investigate any of these places, are you?”
She shuddered almost imperceptibly. “No, I don’t think so. Mostly because I don’t think he’s there. They’re all locked down. No electricity, no amenities, court secured. It would be too open. Too vulnerable, now, don’t you think, with Superman looking for him everywhere?”
Clark Kent’s eyes seemed to darken and he looked over her shoulder at the Metropolis night sky. “You’re right, Lois. Superman would surely find him if he were there.”
Jason looked up brightly. “Superman?”
Lois glared a warning at Clark. “Hush, sweetie. Mommy was just talking. But it’s about your bedtime. Tomorrow’s a school day, after all.”
Jason pouted. “But Mister Clark’s still here and I’m the host.”
Lois raised one eyebrow, quelling her son’s protest. “We grown-ups are finishing up here, anyway. If that’s okay with you, Clark?” she asked. At her partner’s nod, she turned back to Jason. “So see, my host, you can go clear up your toys while Mom and Clark get these papers put away. Then you can say goodnight to Mister Clark and we’ll get you ready for bed.
Reluctantly, Jason nodded his agreement. Clark almost knocked over his glass and the table lamp as he assisted Lois in picking up their papers while Jason stowed away his trucks and action figures. Lois sighed as she worked around them.
As they walked Clark towards the door, she thanked her partner for coming out. “No matter what Perry throws at us tomorrow, we have some leads to follow. That means a lot to me.”
“No problem, Lois,” Clark said as he awkwardly donned his overcoat. “I want to see this problem solved as much as you do.”
Lois smiled ruefully. She doubted Clark Kent would have half the motivation she felt to see Lex Luthor behind bars for good, but it was sweet that he supported her. Clark was a good partner.
“Bye, Mister Clark,” Jason piped up. “Thanks for bringing dinner.”
Clark knelt down to Jason’s level. “Thanks for having me. You were a great host.”
“Yeah, I was, wasn’t I?” Jason’s bright grin turned into a yawn and he looked up at his mother.
“You’re so busted,” she warned him, then pointed up the stairs. “Go, get ready for bed.”
Clark looked at the young boy race up the stairs. Lois could swear his gaze was almost wistful. She supposed that being a long way from the farmland and his family, he must get lonely and mentally made a note to invite him and maybe Jimmy over for dinner during the holidays. Not that her household was a scene of domestic bliss, but at least it was better than nothing.
“Night, Lois”
Clark’s voice pulled her out of her reverie and she smiled brightly as she pulled the front door open for her guest. “Night, Clark. See you at the office tomorrow.”
With an awkward wave, he was out the door and into the night. Lois locked the door before it occurred to her to wonder if he had a ride. In all their time at the paper, she’d never seen Clark with a car and there certainly weren’t many taxis cruising Riverside Drive any time of day. Opening the door, she leaned out to call him back inside. At least they could phone for a cab.
But there was no one outside. In puzzlement, she craned her head from one side to the other. Clark was gone. It was as if he’d flown away. No. Not that, but still. Biting her lip, she pulled her head back inside and shut the front door. Jason would be calling her from his room to get tucked-in and she wanted to get to sleep early tonight. There was no use to worrying about Clark. He was a big boy and she was sure he’d get himself home.
***
Over the night sky of Metropolis, a red and blue shape streaked into the clouds, heading over to the abandoned Vanderworth mansion. Superman paused high above the building and squinted closely, invoking his x-ray vision. The building was cold and quiet. Shaking his head sharply, he turned and headed west into the posh countryside beyond the suburbs of Metropolis, towards the country estate that had been mentioned in the printouts. Lois’ worries had reawakened his own dread of Luthor’s survival and he vowed to carry on an exhaustive search of all possible hideouts until they found the criminal mastermind, however long it took.
***
A city bus braked to a noisy halt in the quiet cul de sac. “You sure this is your stop, miss?” the bus driver asked, looking at the quiet mansions and imposing gates leading off to even more imposing residences.
The dark-haired woman who was his only passenger this far out nodded, clutching an oversized, wiggling tote bag in one hand and a battered, wheeled suitcase in the other. “It’s okay. I’m just hired help.”
“Oh,” said the driver, nodding in sympathy. “The rich. They do need a lot of help, don’t they?”
Chewing tiredly on her gum, the woman craned her head as she looked out on the dark street. “Sure do. But the pay-off’s good if you’re lucky.” Dragging her suitcase down the steps behind her, she got off the bus and trudged into the night. The bus driver shook his head and drove off. Not his business, he decided.
Looking down into her tote, Kitty cooed to the tawny Pomeranian whose head peeked out in excitement. “We’re home, precious. And now there’s no Lex around to make us miserable. We’re just going to settle into this old house. No one will look for us there and we can be as cozy as can be.” Hugging her dog, Kitty Kowalski slipped through the unlocked servants’ entrance tucked in along a desolate part of the stone boundary fence and made her way to the abandoned mansion.
CHAPTER SIX
RATING: PG-13 (for now)
PAIRING: Eventual Lois&Clark.
SUMMARY: Lex Luthor's plotting anew while Lois, Richard, Jason and Clark come to terms with changes to their lives after Superman returns. (Ch.5: 4809 words)
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: The credit goes to the beta-queen htbthomas.
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR
Even without his superpowers tracking her heartbeat, Clark would have been instantly aware that Lois Lane was back at the Planet. A certain kind of hush fell over the newsroom when she strode down the aisle. The only noise besides her staccato footsteps was the news announcer droning on about Chinese preparations for a new commercial space launch. Trotting a few steps behind her, Jimmy Olsen clutched his cameras tightly and seemed to be concentrating on keeping his breakfast down. When Lois stopped suddenly at Clark's desk, the unprepared photographer plowed right into the senior reporter.
Lois emitted an aggrieved sigh. "Get the prints, Jimmy?"
The photographer fumbled for his equipment, nodding distractedly. "Colour or black and white?"
"Both!" Lois said, watching Jimmy stumble his way to the darkroom. Once he was out of sight, her brows furrowed as she turned to regard her partner.
"That was cheating!"
"Wuh-wuh-what was cheating, Lois?" Clark asked, though he was pretty sure that she was referring to his speedy departure in the morning when his super hearing alerted him to a bridge collapsing in Venezuela. Lois hadn't known about the last part, of course. As far as she was concerned, Clark had merely pulled another of his inexplicable disappearing acts.
"You heading off on me before I had a chance to fix our assignments. That was cheating! Well, it all worked out in the end. Roscoe's turned out to be an interesting dead end. His body was found this morning when the police went to serve the warrant. Murder," Lois explained as she stifled a yawn. Clark noted with some concern that she appeared stressed and jittery despite the obvious exhaustion.
Perry threw open his office door. "Lane? What's this I hear about you two stumbling onto a murder scene? In here, now!" With a resigned sigh, Lois complied, Clark following as well at Perry's impatient summons. When Lois laid out her morning's shocking discoveries, Perry was quick to change the story assignments he'd laid out earlier.
"Gangland connections? Mob murders? Is the Cosa Nostra involved? Maybe Roscoe was playing both sides against the middle: stealing from the feds while he two-timed some criminals! I want you to give me something for page one and stat. Clark? Copy for a sidebar on Roscoe's finances and see if you can come up with any funny business in his past. Maybe explain this all."
Lois interrupted Perry's stream of thought. "Chief? I think that Henderson raised an interesting point when he talked about how the mutilations were the same m.o. as Luthor used to order." Clark nodded emphatically but neither Perry nor Lois paid him any attention as he stood uneasily near the door.
"Lois, you know that Interpol and the feds say Luthor's dead. Lost cause. Give it up, already."
Lois shook her head sharply. "Just because they did some calculations on the range of his helicopter and figured he couldn't have made it anywhere still doesn't convince me. I mean, a year ago nobody would have thought he could create a whole new continent and he came damn close to that. I'll believe he's dead when I see his cold body laid out in the morgue."
"And when that happens, we'll run it page one. Until then, though, you don't have any evidence and, pardon me, Lois, but I thought this was a newspaper. We report the news, we don't make it up. Give me what you've got on this by four o'clock. I'm going to see if Frank has anything to add from his series on organized crime." With a wave, Perry shooed the reporters out the door.
Lois stomped one foot in frustration. "Why can't that man see?"
Clark opened his mouth to answer, but seeing his partner already en route to her desk, shut his mouth and trailed in her wake. "I think you're right about Luthor," he offered, not just to see her sudden smile, of course, though he felt himself warm at her bright expression.
She's with Richard, he reminded himself, she just needs a friend and a partner. More than anyone else on the planet, Clark had reason to fear what Luthor might do next. The strain of jettisoning the poisonous bulk of New Krypton into space had almost been beyond him. By his calculations, Lex Luthor had five more control crystals from the Fortress, capable of duplicating such a monstrous feat. Clark's only real questions were when and where; questions he desperately sought to answer as he hunted for his nemesis.
Aware he'd gone silent for too long, Clark looked down to see Lois regarding him with fond bemusement. "Earth to Clark! Look, thanks for the support, Clark," Lois said. "But until we get some more evidence, Perry's not going to listen. I don't suppose you dug up anything useful in your own research?"
Clark made as if to rush to his desk, then turned back to Lois, then away again. She reached out a hand to his forearm. "Whoa, there. Just tell me," she urged.
Clark shrugged. "It took some doing, but I had an in with the registrations bureau in the Caymans" -- an x-ray vision in, he thought to himself - "still, all I could find is that there were three numbered companies registered on the same day and all with the same officers. One's a landholding company, one's seems to be import/export and the third was the one we already knew about, buying technology from Roscoe. That's as much as I could get from the government offices."
Lois' eyes brightened. "That's better than nothing. Let's get these stories done for Perry and see what we can do with the rest of our information. See if we can make some hard and fast connections to Luthor." She paused to contain another shuddering yawn.
"More coffee?" Clark offered.
"Too much more caffeine and I could power all of Metropolis," Lois said ruefully. "I tell you what. Would you take some dictation? Help me with this story? My typing's probably shot all to hell and I remember you were always a great touch-typist. Sooner we can get these done, the sooner we can get going on the real investigation."
Clark was happy to oblige. He, too, wanted to dig more on the possible link to Luthor and he knew better than anyone that while Lois might be a great reporter, she was neither the fastest or most accurate typist on staff. Truth be told, she might be the worst, he thought with a smile as his fingers flew at remarkable but still believable speed over the keyboard. But that's what partners were for.
***
After several hours of calling contacts for more background, pumping Frank for more insight into the relatively insular world of organized crime in Metropolis (Clark committed these details to memory, figuring that Superman might need to get involved), they had their stories. Lois insisted Clark share the byline, "Look, I've been almost catatonic for the past hour while you put this story together," she said. Rubbing her eyes ruefully, she looked at the time.
"After we get this okayed by Perry, there's not going to be enough time to do much on the rest of our research," Lois glanced at her watch again. At least not before I have to pick up Jason from his after-school care."
Clark nodded. "Look, Lois, you look really tired. Maybe you should just pick up Jason and go home now. I can finish things up here with Perry, you know, if you want. . . ." His voice trailed off hesitantly and Lois found herself fighting the impulse to pat him on the head as she would Jason. Clark could be so sweet, she mused. Normally, she would be one of the last ones to leave the paper when in the throes of a good investigation, but then normal didn't include Richard being out of town -- maybe more -- and herself operating on two hours fitful sleep.
"Okay," she found herself saying, "but on one condition. You come by our house for dinner tonight. We can go over the research then and if I conk out, I'm only steps away from my own bed."
Clark looked at her in silence and Lois grew uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," she said. "Do you have a date tonight or something?" The thought of awkward Clark on a date left her feeling a bit uneasy, perhaps, Lois told herself, because she felt sure he'd be hopelessly henpecked.
"N-n-no, Lois," Clark replied, seeming alarmed. "No, I was just going to have a quiet night." He looked up in surprise as she swiftly rose from her desk.
"Then, good, it's settled. I'll head home with Jason and you can come by at six thirty. You know where we live, over on Riverside?” Clark nodded silently. “Of course, there’s not much to eat in the house.” She frowned, chewing on her lip. “Pizza sound good?" Lois slipped her arms into the coat sleeves and cinched her belt before meeting Clark's wide eyed stare. "Pizza?" she prompted.
“Uh, sure, Lois,” he said, and then seemed to reconsider. “Actually, why don’t I bring something else.”
Lois grimaced. Her son’s special diet took a lot of care and she wasn’t sure that a bachelor like Clark would pay attention to such matters. “You know that Jason can’t eat most foods. I don’t want it to be a problem. The local pizza place we have on speed-dial makes him a gluten and dairy-free pizza that he’ll eat. I don’t know about any place else-”
Clark interrupted her long winded explanation. “I know about Jason’s allergies. But I remember he was talking about being tired of pizza when he was here in the office last week. I thought I’d pick up from the Chinese place over on 49th. We’ve eaten from there before when Jason was with you in the evening here at the office. Richard ordered the tofu and steamed vegetables with the sauce on the side for him, right? Jason said he really liked it.”
Lois blinked a couple times, surprised at the evidence of Clark’s powers of observation though she really shouldn’t be. He was a reporter, after all, and Jason spent almost as much time at “Mister Clark’s” desk as in Richard’s office. “Sure, that would be a nice change. But I should pay.” She reached into her wallet and pulled out a couple of twenties, pressing them at Clark. “I insist.”
With visible reluctance, he accepted the bills from her outstretched hands. Lois marched off to the elevator, stifling yet another yawn. This might be a record, she thought, as she exited the newsroom floor: the first time Lois was early to pick up Jason from his daycare as well as the first time Clark had come to their house. It was only a pity that Richard wouldn’t be there, either, she thought, then pushed the regret aside. At some point they’d have to address his concerns but not right now.
***
Jason was happy to hear Clark would be coming by the house and bringing dinner, to boot. When pressed by his mother, he confessed that he was growing tired of the pizza which had become a near staple in their fast-paced lives. Lois felt chagrined that she’d missed noticing this change in her son’s tastes but his fierce hug soon convinced her that it wasn’t the end of the world. Ruffling his hair (and mentally wondering if he’d ever be enough his biological father’s son to resist a mere scissors’ trim), she sent him off to play in his room while she attempted a quick nap.
The plan worked because the next thing she knew, the doorbell was ringing and Jason was pelting down the stairs. “Mister Clark, Mister Clark!” he hollered, jumping up and down impatiently while his mother descended to the ground floor. Glancing at the hallway mirror, she sighed before opening the door. She looked quite a mess, but there wasn’t too much to worry about. It was only Clark and he was coming to work.
Putting on a smile, she opened the door to a staggering pile of takeout bags balanced in the grip of what was, presumably, her tall co-worker. “Clark?” she asked hesitantly.
“Lois?” It was Clark’s voice, a little frazzled. Automatically she relieved him of one large takeout bag and his face emerged. “Thanks.”
“Hi there, Mister Clark,” Jason said. He peeked around from behind Lois, seemingly suddenly shy. Lois twisted to regard her son fondly. “Hey Jason, can you be the host and show Clark here the way to the kitchen while I get the door.” Given a job, Jason shed his bashful stance and was chatting while he directed Clark towards the rear of the house. Soon Lois was dishing up food from a seemingly endless array of dishes. “You got too much, Clark,” she complained.
Clark paused while tucking his napkin into his collar, “I guess I was really hungry,” he apologized. Lois noticed, with some amusement, that Jason nodded vigorously before tucking into his food.
“I got another tofu dish that Jason might be able to try,” Clark said quietly, watching Jason focused on cutting his veggies. “It doesn’t have any added sauce and it’s mostly vegetables. It’s all foods that you and Richard have allowed him to eat before.”
Lois knit her brow. “Are you sure?” The last thing she wanted was to take Clark’s blithe assurance as security and end up rushing Jason to the hospital. It looked innocuous enough: strips of peppers, greens and tofu in a stir-fry.
He nodded and reached into his jacket pocket. “I had them write down the ingredients.” He handed the paper to her.
Lois regarded it in puzzlement. “Clark, it’s in Chinese.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I can read it if you’d like.” Her eyes widened, Clark translated the list of ingredients that corresponded to Jason’s restricted diet.
“Um, sure, Clark. That sounds fine but we’ll just let him have a small serving tonight in case there’s something they forgot.”
“Small serving of what?” Jason asked.
“This,” Lois indicated, spooning a serving of the new dish onto his plate. “Clark found something neat you can try.”
“Oh boy!” Jason exclaimed as he dug in. Savouring the taste he nodded and scooped up the rest. “It’s great, Mom! Can I have more?”
“Maybe tomorrow. I think we’re going to have lots of leftovers,” Lois said, ruefully. Jason frowned theatrically but tucked into his usual tofu dish without any more complaints. Turning towards Clark, she said, “I didn’t know you could read Chinese.”
“Oh,” he said blankly. “I. . . picked it up in my travels.”
“Right,” she said, pausing to enjoy some of her own rice noodle dish. “You really have to tell us more about that.”
He shrugged awkwardly. “Sometime, sure. But I guess we’ve got enough to do tonight and you don’t want to stay up too late.”
“No, you’re right. After dinner I’ll get Jason set up in the living room for his music practice. You don’t mind if we start going over our notes there, do you?”
“Not at all,” Clark managed before catching Jason’s attention. “If it’s okay with you that I work on this with your mom, Jason.”
“Sure thing, Mister Clark. And you can listen to me practice my Christmas music before I talk to my dad on the phone. He’s in Washington covering an important story, right, Mom?”
She nodded. That was good enough for now. Lois shooed Clark out to the living room with Jason while she cleaned up. Clark might be a good writing partner, but she didn’t want his klutziness to re-emerge in her kitchen with her dinnerware. In a short while the leftovers were stowed away and the phone was ringing. Lois held off her eager son with one upraised hand and answered. “Lane & White residence.”
“Lois? It’s me.” Richard’s voice sounded particularly tinny. He must be on his cellphone, she reasoned.
“Richard! How are things going in Washington?”
“Pretty good. There’s some major stuff coming out about Darfur and, well, you’ll read about it in tomorrow’s Planet. Perry’s pleased with the coverage and wants me to stay through the summit.”
Lois twisted the phone cord around her free hand. On the one hand, it was good for his career for Richard to get back out in the field. Sometimes he chafed at being so office-bound. On the other hand, his absence might give him time to brood over his worries. And it certainly was hard on Jason. She looked down at her son who was bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting to talk to his father.
“Well, you’ll be missed but a good story can’t be ignored. You’ll let us know if your plans change?”
“Of course,” Richard promised. Despite the reassuring words, Lois could still detect an emotional distance and wariness in her fiancé’s tone. It wasn’t going to be easy to get through to him.
Lois looked down at Jason. “You’ve got someone here who’s eager to tell you all about his day. Want to talk to Jason?”
Richard’s voice exuded happiness. “Sure thing! Put him on.”
Lois gracefully ceded the phone and watched Jason pour out the tale of his day, from the excitement of getting to water the turtle’s habitat that morning at school right through their evening. “And Mister Clark came over and he brought Chinese food and I tried something new and it was great and-”
“Whoa, there, sport. Clark came over?” Richard’s voice came through loud and clear on the loosely held handset and Lois could see, over in the living room, Clark seem to hunch even more into his tweed suit jacket while attempting to look engrossed in his research notes.
Seeing Jason try to stammer out an explanation, Lois intervened, picking up the phone. “Yes, Clark came over tonight so we could work on our research coming out of the surveyor’s murder.”
“I saw that in the online edition, Lois, and when I asked Uncle Perry about it he seemed to indicate it was gang-related?”
She looked down at Jason who grimaced in impatience and reached for the phone. Holding up one finger, she tried to quickly explain without alarm. “Well, you know that Perry and I don’t always agree about everything. I’m worried about, well, you know.”
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. “Do you really think so, Lois? I mean, you know what the investigators said.”
She felt herself stiffening. Lois didn’t want to have this discussion again about her belief in Lex Luthor’s survival, especially with Jason so close by. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to run with any assumptions. We’re looking at all the angles, here, Richard.”
She could almost hear him stifle his arguments. “Okay. Look, if you want, if you need me to, I can come back tonight. If you’re worried about, well, him.”
Lois raised one eyebrow impatiently. It was sweet of Richard to offer, but she had a feeling he was only doing this to humour her. “No thanks, Richard. I’m not worried about anything, just doing my job. Clark and I will go over our notes on this and then I’ll be off to bed early. It’s been a long few days.” A tug at her free arm reminded her of Jason, impatiently waiting to speak to Richard and she excused herself on his behalf.
Jason was soon content to be chatting on the phone, so Lois wandered back over to the living room. Clark had laid out his notes and print-outs in a few neat piles on the coffee table near Jason’s keyboard. “May I?” she asked.
Clark lifted one hand in an expansive wave of permission that almost knocked over his glass of water. “Oops!” Somehow he managed to fumble it back on the table without spilling a drop. Lois simply rolled her eyes in amusement while she picked up the first pile of papers.
The two reporters were soon absorbed in their material. Clark had a surprising amount of documents from the search for Lex Luthor as well as hi-res satellite images of a number of small atolls at or beyond the farthest range Luthor’s helicopter could have reached.
“There,” Lois said, peering at a small smudge on a tiny islet in one of the photos. “Maybe that’s it?”
Clark pointed one finger to the scale printed in the corner of the image. “Too small, Lois. That would be something the size of a gas can.”
She almost growled in frustration but looked up to see Jason in the doorway looking glum. “All done talking to Daddy?”
He nodded and came over to her, burrowing into her side. “I miss him.”
Lois hugged her son tightly. “He misses you, too, sweetie. But it’s his job. And he won’t be gone forever. Why, he’ll probably be home in a few days.”
Jason simply nodded silently and clung for a while. Finally he seemed ready to face things again and she set him down beside her to practice.
“Sorry,” she apologized to Clark.
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize to me, Lois. I don’t mind and I know it’s hard on a kid when their dad’s not around.” He seemed lost in thought for a few moments, then turned back to the papers in front of them. Lois was happy to pick up the cue. Soon they were back to tussling over the possibilities in the papers before them while Jason picked out some Christmas tunes on the keyboard.
“Look,” Lois said, “we may be going at this the wrong way. Instead of trying to trace where he landed or where Roscoe’s money came from, maybe we need to look at the middle.”
Clark looked up with an encouraging expression and Lois continued. “Maybe we need to track where the assets went after the disaster. Maybe if we can follow that trail, we can find him?”
Clark nodded. “I haven’t really looked into that much because it’s a bit of a mess. Gertrude Vanderworth’s family launched a new challenge to the will, didn’t they?”
Lois put on her reading glasses and flipped through the papers in one of her research folders. “Yes, in November they got an appeals court to put a freeze on her properties here in the state. But I don’t think that extended to any of the already liquidated assets.”
“Property,” Clark said, frowning thoughtfully. “So, like her house here in Metropolis and the country estate?”
“And a lot of commercial real estate, apparently,” Lois said, regarding the printouts in front of her. “As far as I know, they’re still under the court’s seal.”
Clark reached for the papers and Lois passed them over. She was surprised when he gave her a serious look. “You’re not thinking of going off to investigate any of these places, are you?”
She shuddered almost imperceptibly. “No, I don’t think so. Mostly because I don’t think he’s there. They’re all locked down. No electricity, no amenities, court secured. It would be too open. Too vulnerable, now, don’t you think, with Superman looking for him everywhere?”
Clark Kent’s eyes seemed to darken and he looked over her shoulder at the Metropolis night sky. “You’re right, Lois. Superman would surely find him if he were there.”
Jason looked up brightly. “Superman?”
Lois glared a warning at Clark. “Hush, sweetie. Mommy was just talking. But it’s about your bedtime. Tomorrow’s a school day, after all.”
Jason pouted. “But Mister Clark’s still here and I’m the host.”
Lois raised one eyebrow, quelling her son’s protest. “We grown-ups are finishing up here, anyway. If that’s okay with you, Clark?” she asked. At her partner’s nod, she turned back to Jason. “So see, my host, you can go clear up your toys while Mom and Clark get these papers put away. Then you can say goodnight to Mister Clark and we’ll get you ready for bed.
Reluctantly, Jason nodded his agreement. Clark almost knocked over his glass and the table lamp as he assisted Lois in picking up their papers while Jason stowed away his trucks and action figures. Lois sighed as she worked around them.
As they walked Clark towards the door, she thanked her partner for coming out. “No matter what Perry throws at us tomorrow, we have some leads to follow. That means a lot to me.”
“No problem, Lois,” Clark said as he awkwardly donned his overcoat. “I want to see this problem solved as much as you do.”
Lois smiled ruefully. She doubted Clark Kent would have half the motivation she felt to see Lex Luthor behind bars for good, but it was sweet that he supported her. Clark was a good partner.
“Bye, Mister Clark,” Jason piped up. “Thanks for bringing dinner.”
Clark knelt down to Jason’s level. “Thanks for having me. You were a great host.”
“Yeah, I was, wasn’t I?” Jason’s bright grin turned into a yawn and he looked up at his mother.
“You’re so busted,” she warned him, then pointed up the stairs. “Go, get ready for bed.”
Clark looked at the young boy race up the stairs. Lois could swear his gaze was almost wistful. She supposed that being a long way from the farmland and his family, he must get lonely and mentally made a note to invite him and maybe Jimmy over for dinner during the holidays. Not that her household was a scene of domestic bliss, but at least it was better than nothing.
“Night, Lois”
Clark’s voice pulled her out of her reverie and she smiled brightly as she pulled the front door open for her guest. “Night, Clark. See you at the office tomorrow.”
With an awkward wave, he was out the door and into the night. Lois locked the door before it occurred to her to wonder if he had a ride. In all their time at the paper, she’d never seen Clark with a car and there certainly weren’t many taxis cruising Riverside Drive any time of day. Opening the door, she leaned out to call him back inside. At least they could phone for a cab.
But there was no one outside. In puzzlement, she craned her head from one side to the other. Clark was gone. It was as if he’d flown away. No. Not that, but still. Biting her lip, she pulled her head back inside and shut the front door. Jason would be calling her from his room to get tucked-in and she wanted to get to sleep early tonight. There was no use to worrying about Clark. He was a big boy and she was sure he’d get himself home.
***
Over the night sky of Metropolis, a red and blue shape streaked into the clouds, heading over to the abandoned Vanderworth mansion. Superman paused high above the building and squinted closely, invoking his x-ray vision. The building was cold and quiet. Shaking his head sharply, he turned and headed west into the posh countryside beyond the suburbs of Metropolis, towards the country estate that had been mentioned in the printouts. Lois’ worries had reawakened his own dread of Luthor’s survival and he vowed to carry on an exhaustive search of all possible hideouts until they found the criminal mastermind, however long it took.
***
A city bus braked to a noisy halt in the quiet cul de sac. “You sure this is your stop, miss?” the bus driver asked, looking at the quiet mansions and imposing gates leading off to even more imposing residences.
The dark-haired woman who was his only passenger this far out nodded, clutching an oversized, wiggling tote bag in one hand and a battered, wheeled suitcase in the other. “It’s okay. I’m just hired help.”
“Oh,” said the driver, nodding in sympathy. “The rich. They do need a lot of help, don’t they?”
Chewing tiredly on her gum, the woman craned her head as she looked out on the dark street. “Sure do. But the pay-off’s good if you’re lucky.” Dragging her suitcase down the steps behind her, she got off the bus and trudged into the night. The bus driver shook his head and drove off. Not his business, he decided.
Looking down into her tote, Kitty cooed to the tawny Pomeranian whose head peeked out in excitement. “We’re home, precious. And now there’s no Lex around to make us miserable. We’re just going to settle into this old house. No one will look for us there and we can be as cozy as can be.” Hugging her dog, Kitty Kowalski slipped through the unlocked servants’ entrance tucked in along a desolate part of the stone boundary fence and made her way to the abandoned mansion.
CHAPTER SIX