When Clark woke, it was nearly noon. He'd still hardly had any sleep. It had been past three when he'd got Jimmy and Dan home. After, he'd been unable to relax. Just flicking his cell open and shut, staring at the number and wondering how to use it best. He had no idea when he'd fallen asleep. But he woke on his couch, still dressed as Superman, still holding the phone, which was now ringing. He picked up, his mind still clouded.
"Grady?"
"What?" The voice faded slightly. "Damn it, Olsen, did you give me the wrong number here? Would you just wake up and..."
"Perry?" He sat up on the couch. "No. It's me. What's..."
"Just what the hell are the two of you doing over there? It's been a week and you've hardly checked in with me and..."
"We've made some progress," Clark said, cutting him off. Perry tended to work himself into small rages as he talked. It was best not to let him make the climb. "We've found more things connecting the couples. All four had..."
"Of course they're connected. Why else would someone be taking them?" He heard Perry pant a few more times. "What I want to know is who is doing it and you two are no closer than you were. Lois won't even answer her phone. Either of them!"
That was a little worrying. "Well, I can get over there now and check on her."
"What? Where would she be if not with you?"
"We decided to go away from met Vista for Thanksgiving and she's at her place..."
"Oh, yes. Thanksgiving. I would have taken time out for Thanksgiving," Perry grumbled. "But I have a paper to run. You know the one. You two sometimes work for it."
"Perry, I'm sorry if you think we're not..."
"Oh, I don't want to hear it right now. I want to see the both of you here by three." There was a click, then silence.
He stood, nearly rushing to her now. But he quickly moved to his room, putting jeans and a sweater over his suit, grabbing his glasses. She wasn't answering her phones. Was she okay? She'd seemed odd last night. Of course, everything had seemed odd last night. He'd think the entire thing had been a crazy dream if he didn't still have that number on his missed call list.
He rushed through back alleys and side streets, stopping behind her building. A part of him was ready to fly up, look in, be sure she was okay. He straightened his glasses, letting the weight of them be a reminder. He was just Clark. He was just her partner. And Clark would knock on the door and tell her about Perry.
Once in her hallway, he knocked, then listened. She wasn't... He heard rustling and his body relaxed. "Lois?" he called out, knocking again.
He heard a groan and some shuffling and he stood back.
She opened the door only part-way. "Clark? What are you doing here?"
She looked... awful. Her eyes were red rimmed with dark circles. Her skin seemed paler, almost translucent. "Perry called me," he said, staring at her messy hair, her rumpled T-shirt. He couldn't see more around the door, at least not without edging down his glasses. "He wants to meet us at three. He's a little ticked that we haven't made more progress. And are you okay?"
"Me? Fine." She smiled wanly. "I think I'm coming down with a cold." She sniffled slightly. It wasn't exactly convincing. "So Perry's mad about something? I'm surprised. He's usually so patient and trusting."
Clark let out a fake laugh to match her fake smile. "Well, I just thought I'd tell you." He moved forward. "Can I come in?"
"You know now's not a..."
He edged past her, wondering what she was hiding. "Just a bit chilly out," he lied. "Do you have any coffee on?"
"I..." She sighed. "Sure. I'll get you a cup."
He watched her over the counter. "Thanks." He hadn't been here since... she'd known him, all of him. She had a dining table now. It was a dark wood with matching chairs with red cushioned seats. He could see why she hated the ultra modern decor where they lived now. He looked behind him at the desk to the side of her bedroom door, wondering what exactly she was...
It was the first step that brought it on. He felt weak, his insides churned, even his skin seemed to burn as if... "It's here somewhere," he whispered.
"What's that?" She called from behind him.
"Nothing," Clark said, turning around with some effort. She was holding two mugs, staring at him. "I'm..."
"Oh, my God! Clark!" She put the mugs down on the table and rushed to him. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine." She put a hand on his forehead. "You look like you're in pain."
"Really?" He tried not to sound as if he was about to expire. "Maybe I'm coming down with something, too. I should go..."
Her eyes widened as she touched his forehead and cheeks. "Yes. You should go to a hospital. You're burning up. You're sweating." She grabbed his arm. "I'll get my keys and..."
"No!" He tore away from her and moved back toward the door. "I feel better already," he said. It was partially true. Wherever the kryptonite was, it was near her desk. He leaned against the door, feeling his insides unclench. "It must be one of those bugs."
"But what if it's not? Have you heard of that new infection? It's resistant to all..."
"Lois, I'm fine. Really."
She rolled her eyes. "Clark, get over here. I have a thermometer somewhere." She patted her desk chair. "Sit down."
He stared at it and instinctively grasped the doorknob. He couldn't explain to her why he couldn't get nearer. "You're right," he said. "I'm going to go see my doctor right now."
"But you said you were..."
"I better go see if he can squeeze me in. I'll see you at three."
He rushed out, jogging weakly down the hall, trying to get outside, into the sun. It would take the pain away. Whatever she was hiding, he couldn't get near her now. He'd find out later. He had other things to do.
*************************
Lois stared at the closed door and wondered why guys were such babies about being sick. As much as she knew Clark didn't like her poking into his town, she would have risked him finding out if he'd just let her take his temperature. He'd just better get to the doctor.
She moved back to her room, staring at the papers strewn on her bed. Her laptop was wrecked. The disk inside too scratched to work, but she still had the hard copies of The Torch. She sat down and picked up the article she'd been looking at. This one wasn't from The Torch. It was from the Daily Planet. But it mentioned her cousin and Smallville. Some maniac that killed mentally ill girls and made it look like suicide had tried it with Chloe. Apparently Chloe had attempted suicide.
This one troubled her. She thought of the dream, the straitjacket dream. She could even close her eyes and see it. Was this why she felt such a kinship with her cousin? Maybe the both of them shared more than genes. Something also hereditary. Mental illness.
She barked out a laugh that was more of a sob in the empty room. At least she knew why she'd been seeing Grady. Lois Lane was damn near certifiable.
She put her hands to her head and pressed. The steady throbbing wouldn't stop. She'd been scanned six ways to Sunday over a month ago. There was no reason for the headaches. Yet they continued. They'd drive her crazy.
She breathed deep and closed her eyes, feeling the pain recede. She didn't have time to go crazy. She had too much to do. She moved to her purse and pulled out her cell. It had been ringing all morning. She'd been too engrossed in stories and pain to care. Most of the calls were Perry. But there was another call. She dialed quickly.
"I got your message. I agree. We should meet."
****************************
Clark stared at Henderson numbly. "Inspector, I wouldn't ask if this wasn't important."
"I understand that, Superman. But we have protocol, procedure. I can't put that aside, even though I continue to be grateful for what you do."
"But it's just a cell phone record."
"And I need grounds to get it. Is this guy a criminal? If you want to tell me a little more, I could..."
"No," he sighed, standing and taking back the slip of paper with Dan's number. What would he say? That a runaway therapist who'd commited no crime, no believable crime, in the eyes of the law had run off and he just needed to find him to help his alter-ego's mind-wiped ex-lover? That would fly. "It's just... a lost friend," he said.
"I hope they turn up," Inspector Henderson said, coming around the desk. "But I really can't invade someone's privacy with no grounds. I'm sorry, but..." He looked over Clark's shoulder. "Need something, Sawyer?"
Clark turned to see a slim woman with close-cropped hair in the doorway. She smiled at him before turning to Henderson. "A long vacation," she said briskly. "Since you won't give me that, I need a some clearance."
Henderson blinked at her. "Huh?"
"That idiot clerk at the county courthouse is giving me a hard time with the Dutton files. Says he doesn't have the warrant."
"What?" Henderson rolled his eyes. "I looked that over myself. I even sent it by messenger. Stupid, paper pushing..." He muttered his way out of the office and down the hall.
The woman turned to Clark. "Detective Maggie Sawyer," she said, sticking her hand out. "I've heard of you, but we haven't actually met." She glanced down. "Tights, huh? Are you an acrobat on your days off?"
Clark gave her a weak smile. It didn't even sting anymore. He'd heard every crack there was from Bart a million times over. He shook her hand. "Super..."
"Don't bother," she said, shaking her head. "It's just a little ridiculous when everyone knows your name already." She looked at the slip of paper on his hand. "So Henderson won't pull up a lousy phone record?" She smirked. "Guy's all about the protocol. Me? I live a little looser."
Clark stared as she leaned over and took the slip of paper from his hand. "You mean you could..."
"Who's to say I'll do anything?" She pocketed the slip. "But it could be that I found this slip at a crime scene and am checking it out just in case." She shrugged. "Too bad it'll be a dead end. But I could see that the records get a little lost on the way to the shredder. Where would I lose them?"
He smiled. "At The Daily Planet. See that they get to..." It would be stupid to say Clark Kent. Too close. And Lois? She'd be digging into it before she even got the enveleope off. "Jimmy Olsen," he decided.
She raised an eyebrow. "Works for The Planet? I don't want a favor like this to be common knowledge. You sure you trust him?"
"I do," Clark said, realizing it was true. "Just slip in a note that it's for me. He'll know what to do."
"Okay." She moved to the doorway, but turned back. "Just so you know, this isn't out of the kindness of my heart. From what gets whispered, Special Crimes might have their hands full in 2009."
Clark waited.
"Intergang," she clarified. "We'd like to count on a little outside help."
Clark nodded. "I'll be there." With everything going on, he only hoped it was a promise he could keep.
**************************
Clark walked toward Perry's office, past hoping Perry wouldn't notice he was late. It would be only too obvious when only three people were meeting.
"Hey, C.K.," Jimmy said, yawning by the coffee.
Clark stopped, not wanting to just pass him by. "Hey, Jimmy. Uh... tired?"
"Just a little. Had a late night last night with... some friends."
Clark smiled, glad Jimmy was keeping quiet about last night's events. "That happens." He glanced at the door to Perry's office.
"You'd better get in there," Jimmy warned. "He's been asking for you for twenty minutes."
"Is Lois..."
"Already there."
He nodded and moved to the door. The closer he got, the louder things were.
"...A newsweek where nobody's bringing me anything worth reading and my top gun and my new gun are just sitting there being decoys!"
He opened the door, wincing.
"And here he finally is!"
"Sorry, Perry. I got caught up at..."
"No. Don't explain. It's Black Friday. I'm sure you had some important Christmas shopping to get on. Christmas is only a month away. Obviously not as urgent as your job."
"Oh, Perry, leave him alone. He's sick." Lois stood, not looking nearly as ruffled as Clark felt, though she was still pale. She turned to him. "Are you feeling any better?"
"Um... definitely. All better."
"Really? What did the doctor say?"
"Huh?"
She slapped his arm lightly. "I knew it. You didn't go." She shook her head. "What is so scary about the doctor?"
"Nothing."
"Than why did you practically freak out when I mentioned the hospital? Do you have some kind of fear of needles?"
He sighed. "You got me." He was afraid of needles--needles that broke against his skin, sending everyone around him into a near freak-out, probably.
"Great!" Perry threw up his hands. "We solved the mystery of Clark's needle phobia. Maybe we could move on to why four couples are still missing and why you two aren't doing anything about..."
"Perry, we are working on it." Lois crossed her arms. "Did you know I spent an entire evening with women talking about macrame and bedazzling purses? Do you think that's fun for me?"
Perry sighed and leaned on his desk. "You're right. I'm just... tense. I got nothing for Sunday."
"I'd love to help you with that," Lois said gently. "But we're doing all we can. Twenty-four, seven. Right, Clark?"
"Right," he said quietly. It wasn't altogether true. He'd been so focused on Lois, on Grady, all day, that he'd nearly forgot there was a Met Vista.
"We have medical records, we found the common factor, we've set ourselves up, hopefully, as targets. I've even made friends with a congressman's wife."
Perry brightened. "Yeah? Which one?"
"Michael Sharp."
Perry slumped again. "Too clean," he muttered.
Lois rubbed his arm. "Perry, I swear. We'll have a story even the networks will envy in no time. We're all over it."
************************
Lois walked out beside Clark, feeling absolutely miserable. She wasn't all over Met Vista. She'd been too caught up in her own stuff to even think about it. Even while she was there, she'd been all over Smallville and meteor rocks and crazy alien stories. But she'd change that. She would.
"I have my bags in the car. You need a ride back?" she asked.
"Um... I could just..."
"What am I thinking? Of course you do." She moved toward her car. "Come on. I'm a block up. I'll swing by your place and you can grab what you need."
He nodded and she moved off, still feeling guilty. Clark, at least, had his head in the right place.
There was one thing she could give Met Vista. It was easier on her head than her recent investigations. She'd focus. She'd get this sewn up in no time.
Only tomorrow. And later tomorrow. She had a meeting first. A very important meeting.
****************************
He kept his eyes on her as she sipped her coffee. She glanced up and smiled. She was hiding something. Maybe he only recognized it because he was, too. And on a daily basis.
"So what's your plan today?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
She shrugged. "Think I'll go into the city soon. Might be a long one." She shook her head. "Think I'll take a look into EZ Move. I mean, the company doesn't exist, but there must be a trace of it somewhere."
"Sounds good." It also didn't sound like it would take all day. And she would be almost sure to some up empty as he'd looked into EZ Move weeks ago. Still, he let her have it for now. "Any other plans?"
"Maybe I'll hang out with the girls, see what's what. And what are you doing on your side?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.
"Well... I thought I'd check out the other two houses. I've checked out the third and we know this one doesn't have much to give up, so..."
"Sounds good."
Clark stood. "Well... I guess I'll be going soon."
Lois stayed in her seat. "Yeah. Me, too. Soon. Have to get dressed and all, so..." They both froze when the doorbell rang. It was eight in the morning on a Saturday.
He moved to the door. "Are you expecting anyone?"
"Me? Uh..."
He looked through the peephole. "It's Pammie Sharp."
She stood. "Oh, good. Let me get that. I've been expecting her."
Clark stepped back. Maybe his own paranoia was projecting itself onto her. It could be that she was really digging into EZ Move, really planning on hanging around the women of the neighborhood.
***********************
"I'm so glad you came." Lois stepped forward and hugged Pammie.
"Came? But I was only..."
She released Pam and pulled her in. "I'm sorry I'm not dressed. Had a lazy morning and all."
"Oh, it's fine. I'm not really..."
She turned to Clark. "Kent? Didn't you say you had something to do?"
Clark sighed and nodded. "It's good seeing you, Mrs. Sharp."
"Oh, call me Pammie. Everyone does."
He looked at Lois, half-smiling. "I'll see you."
She watched him go and let out a long breath.
"I know how you feel," Pammie said from beside her. "He is a fine specimen. So... Did I say I'd be stopping by? I don't think I did, but..."
"No," Lois cut in. "I'm just... glad you did." She was, too. Clark had been looking at her strangely all morning. Giving him the idea that she was hanging around the ladies was the perfect thing to get those eyes off her. It wasn't as if she had anything to feel guilty about. She was only going for a tiny meeting with a certain bald man that Clark didn't trust... Hell, she didn't trust him. But that didn't mean he didn't have his uses. She glanced at Pammie, who was looking around the living room. She just had to shoo Pammie out first.
"You've done some... very interesting things to the place." Pammie glanced at the couch that Lois hadn't sat on more than once.
Lois laughed to herself. "You could say that."
"It's very..."
"Space age?"
"Exactly."
"You hate it," Lois said, smiling.
"No, of course not. I think it's..."
"No. It's fine. I hate it, too."
Pammy laughed. "Oh, good. Now I don't feel like a witch." She looked at the table. "Why would you..."
"It's more... Kent's taste," Lois said, foisting the blame. "Listen, Pammie..."
"Men." Pammie rolled her eyes. "You should never let them pick furniture. They're never practical. My kids would destroy this flimsy stuff in a week." She looked down. "They're nuts, but I love them." She put a hand to her stomach. "Actually I was wondering if you had a minute to..."
The doorbell rang and Lois groaned. "Just a sec." She checked the peephole. It was Mitzi. Was every woman in the place popping by today? She opened the door. "Mitzi. Hi."
"Morning, Sugar. I'd normally never intrude this early, but I saw you had a guest." She waved at Pammie. "Do you happen to have any baking soda? I'm just cleaned out."
"Uh... Maybe?" Considering the only person who'd bothered in the kitchen at all was Clark. "Let me just... see." She smiled apologetically at Pammie, who smiled back and sat at the table. She moved to the kitchen, Mitzi on her heels and opened cabinets.
"You know, I was just wondering about something you said the other night," Mitzi said. "I mean, you've been to some of those new fertility doctors and Bob and I have hardly tried in years. At our ages, it's probably nothing, but... who do you see?"
"Uh... we..." At the moment, she couldn't remember if she and Clark had even mentioned which doctor, real or fake. Her eyes lit on a box of Arm and Hammer. "Here it is!" Maybe she could get rid of Mitzi that much quicker, only leaving Pammie to... The doorbell rang again. She handed the box to Mitzi quickly and went for the door. "Dodie. Hello."
"Hi, Lanie. Did I just see Mitzi pop in here? Oh, there she is." Dodie walked past Lois and towards Mitzi. "Mitzi, we were supposed to go on our fitness walk a half hour ago. Did you conveniently forget again?"
Mitzi laughed. "Oh, Dodie. It must've just..."
"Every little bit helps, Mitzi, to get rid of every little bulge." She turned and noticed Pammie. "Oh, Pammie. How lovely to see you." Dodie turned and offered Lois a smirk.
Lois quickly turned away. She didn't want to be part of whatever silent fat joke Dodie was trying to convey. She held the door open wider. "Well, it's nice to see you all, but..."
"Oh, Lanie!" She looked out her door and down the front walk.
"Great," she said under her breath. Every woman in the neighborhood was suddenly congregating at her house when, at this moment, under her bathrobe, there was a carefully chosen ensemble that was supposed to be for a meeting with Lex Luthor if she could just get to it.
Marcy Proud and Lizzie Albright were, at this moment, bearing down on her with dogs. Lizzie with a gigantic Boxer on a leash and Marcy with a tiny Pomeranian in her arms. They peeked in.
"What is this, a party?" Lizzie laughed. "Are we not invited?"
Lois pasted on a smile. "Oh, no. Just a sudden impromptu gathering. But I actually have to..."
"We were just taking our boys out for a walk," Marcy said. "Well, Lizzie was. My little Foxy is not in the mood for exercise." She glanced at Lizzie. "Probably afraid her big brute will stomp him to death."
"Don't let her fool you, Lanie. My Chester is as sweet as a lamb." Chester suddenly leapt onto her chest. She was suddenly glad she hadn't gotten rid of the robe just yet. "Oh, Chester. He's just such a loverboy."
"I can see that," Lois said, backing away as Lizzie reined him in. "Anyway, it's been..."
"Lizzie, Marcy," Dodie called out. "I do hope you've brought some baggies with you this time. We must remember the association's rules about scooping." She smiled sweetly. "My vegetable garden hasn't forgotten."
"Oh, of course, Dodie. I know just what to do with Foxy's waste." Marcy threw a glance at Lois, who indulged in a little smile, reflecting how lovely it would be if Dodie was behind Met Vista. Of course, that was silly. The woman was unpleasant, but obviously not a criminal mastermind. Lois severely doubted there was a any mind, masterful or not, under her stringy hair.
But she had more important things to worry about than Dodie Margold's nonexistent brain, such as a three hour drive that she would now have to make in two. "Ladies," she said, clapping her hands. "As much as I'd love to chat this morning, I have an appointment. A... doctor's appointment and I should really get myself together."
Pammie stood first. "Of course you should. I'll get out of your hair." She started past Lois, then stopped. "Don't forget. You and Kent are supposed to stop by to watch the game tomorrow. Mikey's really looking forward to it."
"So are we," she said, wishing she could mean it. As much as she did like Pammie, she'd rather be working.
Pammie patted her shoulder. "We'll talk then."
Lois turned expectantly to the others. Dodie shook her head and turned to Mitzi. "You'll look like her in a month if you don't start listening to me." She sailed past Lois. "Have fun with the game, but do not eat anything she serves. The woman eats carbs."
"I'll be careful," Lois said, wishing she had a giant baguette to bite a hunk off right now. She moved toward the kitchen, where Mitzi was still standing with the box of baking soda. "I'll be seeing you, Mitzi," she said brightly, hoping she'd get the hint.
"Actually, Lanie, I wanted to ask you what..."
"Mitzi, are you coming?" Dodie yelled from outside.
"In a minute," Mitzi called back. She shook her head. "Nevermind."
Marcy came forward and took her arm. "Mitzi, you really shouldn't let her push you around like that."
"That twig," Lizzie hissed.
"You could take her in a street fight," Marcy pointed out.
"Easily," Lizzie agreed, laughing.
Mitzi giggled slightly. "Maybe I won't go on her fitness walk today."
"Why should you?" Marcy asked. "Women like her don't even want you to get fit. They just want to feel superior, so they..."
Lois shut the door as their voices faded. She quickly threw off her robe and moved to the bedroom, putting on heels and a jacket to go with her skirt and blouse. She ran a brush through her hair and put some earrings in as an afterthought. Whether she cared what Lex thought of her or not, it was best to dress to impress. Clark may not trust him, but he had his good points, such as information. When they'd talked he'd said he had something that could make his memory loss a non-issue.
Whatever it was, she wanted a piece of it.
She looked for her purse on the table near the door. She did not have time to go searching. She was about to indulge in hysteria when she saw it on the floor, spilled out slightly. She quickly stuffed the contents back in and stood.
"Smallville, here I come."
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