Lois stared at the ratty, red couch behind Clark's chair. She didn't know what it was, but that couch seemed so... She put her hands to her temples.
"Are you okay, Honey?" She felt a hand on her elbow. It was Martha Kent.
She looked to her left. "I'm fine." It was nearly true. She was glad she'd stayed for dessert. She'd been ready to run home and bury herself under the covers with an ice pack to her head, but something about Martha Kent... It was the same feeling that made her want to stay for dinner. A feeling of... Safety? Comfort? It was something warm. Something she hadn't felt for a long time. Maybe it was just the presence of a mom she craved.
She quickly drained her coffee cup. "Great coffee, Mrs. Kent. I'm just gonna... get some more." She stood and hurried to the kitchen, wondering why she suddenly wanted to cry. All night, she'd been bombarded with these feelings of... what?
Whatever they were, they were damned distracting. She braced her hands on the counter and breathed deep, wishing there were no holidays, no down time. Her life never made sense when she wasn't on the job.
She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she turned. It was Clark. There was another thing that didn't make sense. He'd been looking at her funny all through dessert, hardly saying a word, letting her and Martha do all the talking. "Hey," she said, quickly turning back and busying herself with the coffee pot.
"Hey."
"Your mom's nice."
"I always thought so."
She glanced over as he placed some plates in the sink. "Very nice. Makes me wonder where she picked you up."
He stilled. "Well... I'm adopted, so I probably can't take credit for..."
She winced, spilling a little coffee. "Okay, now I feel like a b*tch. Clark, I..."
"No," he said quickly. "Don't. I'm not trying... God, this is just..." He stopped and stared at her. "I think we should talk."
"Yes. And so do I. I feel just wretched meeting your mom after the way I..."
"It's fine, Lois. But I want to..."
"Clark, just let me go first. I want to say this." She drew in a deep breath and turned to him. "I spent a lot of time making fun of your family and where you're from and calling you names and... That was wrong of me." She laughed slightly. "I think one of the reasons I get so snide with you is that you are so... Well, you're so polite, so nice. And this cynical part of me tends to think nice, polite people are a trick. But after meeting your mom... I guess you are the genuine article. Like your mom, like... I guess like your father, too. And that has a lot to do with where you're from, so... sorry about making fun of that."
He nodded, but didn't say anything.
"And I'm also sorry about the cat pee comment. I mean, it's hardly noticeable once you get used to it."
He smiled. "Good. I was really worrying about that."
She giggled. "And, well... About last night. I... I get it now."
He opened his mouth, then closed it. "Uh... What do you get about it?"
"I mean, I understand. We've been thrown together with almost no one else around. Things are bound to get confused. I think we might have been carried away with all of our play-acting." She looked away from him. "Some more than others. I mean, the fact that you... Yeah. I'm done being mad about that. It's fine." She nodded at him. "I get it."
"I'm still lost about what you get..."
"Well, you can say it. I'm a big girl, Clark. I can take it."
"Take what?"
"Getting stuck in that house together." She shrugged. "I mean, you could toss Perry and Doris in there and something would happen."
He was staring. It was unsettling. "It would?"
"Yeah. I mean, we're obviously not... into each other that way. I mean, you're not and... I'm not... either."
"Uh-huh." He was still staring. She wished he'd stop. She was trying to let him off the hook, here.
"So we can just move on and get back to business and..."
"See, there's just one problem with that..." He touched her arm. "Lois, tomorrow we should..."
She felt a vibrating in her pocket. She rolled her eyes and held up a hand. "Hold on." She pulled her cell out. "I wish she would just..." She stared at the screen. It wasn't from Linda. It was a text.
Package at your place. Where have you been?
"Lois, what's..."
"Huh?" She stared at him, then quickly snapped her phone shut. "Oh, that was Linda again. You know how it is. I should go." She started out, but he stepped in front of her.
"But about tomorrow..."
She'd nearly forgot what they were talking about. "You know, Clark. You're right."
"Right about what?"
"Well, yeah. I mean... it's obvious what we need to do and I'm glad you agree."
"Agree with..."
"More time apart." She smiled. "We need to just streamline this investigation.... or assembly line or..."
"But how can we..."
"We both pursue our separate angles and just... meet up later." She patted his shoulder. "Starting tomorrow. Great idea."
She left the kitchen and bustled into the living room, grabbing her purse from the ratty couch. "Great dinner, Mrs. Kent," she said brightly. "But I should get to bed. All that turkey with that... stuff in it..." She snapped her fingers. "Tryptophan. That's the one. Anyway." She faked a yawn. "Very tired."
"Oh." Martha Kent nodded. "Well, it was nice seeing... meeting you."
"Same here. Bye."
********************************
Clark stood next to his mother and stared at the door.
"What did you say?" Martha asked.
"Nothing." Clark shook his head. "Well, not yet. She just started... babbling all of a sudden."
"Well, you must have said something."
Clark went over it all in his mind. He hardly remembered how the conversation had got to where it had. There she was, giving him one of her patented "It's fine that you don't want me speeches" and he just didn't want to hear it, not after all they'd been through. "I didn't tell her anything," he said dully. "But I wanted to."
"Clark," his mother sighed. "You weren't seriously going to just break out and tell her just now."
"Of course not... I was going to tell her tomorrow," he finished quietly.
"Oh, Honey." She patted his shoulder.
"Mom, you saw her tonight. She can't go on like this. She's not even talking to Linda and the headaches and the..."
"I understand, but the two of you are in the middle of an important story and now might not be the time..."
"There will never be a right time for this," he snapped. "I don't want to wait any more."
"But you're forgetting something, Sweetie." He looked down as his mother stepped in front of him. "We don't know what it will do to her."
He nodded and moved to the couch, sitting down hard. "No. We don't." He stood, something clicking in his mind. "But I think I know a way to find out." He sped into his room and into his suit. When he moved back to the living room, his mother was opening the window.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"To find answers."
"But, Clark..."
He put one foot on the windowsill. "Do you need a lift home?"
"Well, I drove, but..."
"Don't worry, Mom. I think I have something, here, but..." He moved to the kitchen. "I might have to sweeten the deal." He took a pie from the counter and quickly put it in a bag. "Do you mind?"
"No, but who are you going to see?"
"Murray... but by way of downtown Metropolis, then Woody's Inn and..."
"Clark... Isn't that a... men's bar?"
He started for the living room again. "Yes, but there's a bartender there that might hold some answers and..."
"Clark, I can't let you leave like this."
He stopped, turning back to her. "Mom, I know you think this isn't the right time, but..."
She stepped forward and took the bag. "Take the strawberry rhubarb. You know that's Murray's favorite."
As Clark flew over the rooftops, the right pie dangling from his hand, he reflected that Lois was right. They needed to pursue their own angles. It would give him more time as Superman, more time for answers.
He flew nearer to the ground. Saw the large brownstone on sixth street. He wasn't going to bother with the door. He moved to the third floor's set of windows, counting. He'd been here only once before, but never as Superman.
He flew close to the window and peeked in at the giant Evil Dead poster on the wall. This was the one. And he was awake.
He knocked on the window, watched the occupant jump, then move to the window. "Superman?"
"Jimmy Olsen?" he said, deepening his voice. "I need you to come with me."
"Uh... sure. But how did you..."
"I'm a friend of Clark Kent's. There's no time."
"Okay. Just wait one sec." Clark rolled his eyes as Jimmy disappeared into the room, then reemerged in the window with a camera around his neck. "Could you maybe point your right arm upwards and..."
"Oh, just come with me." Clark grasped him around the waist with one arm and pulled him out.
"Whoa. Okay. Flying. This is cool. Just out of curiosity... where are we going?"
"Woody's Inn," Clark said shortly.
"Isn't that a... guy bar? Of the guy on guy variety?"
"Yes," Clark answered.
"Oh, so when The National Enquirer said..."
"No," Clark cut in, wincing. "I'll explain later. Just... could we keep this off the record?"
"I guess." He felt Jimmy sigh heavily from under his right arm. "So... how are Clark and Lois doing with the story?"
"Listen, I don't really have time for smalltalk right now."
"Oh. Okay. Got it."
Of course, Jimmy's mention of the story planted a a niggling seed of guilt in the back of his mind. Those couples were still missing. They were hardly nearer to an answer. Should he really be taking time out for his own interests?
He flew lower as he spotted the neon light's around Woody's Inn.
He'd make time tomorrow. Met Vista could wait.
*************************
Met Vista could wait.
Lois stared at the contents of the package her sleepy landlord had handed her. Like the text message that pointed her to it, it was from Lex Luthor.
Lane,
I hope it doesn't bother you too much, but I used some pull to get your cell number. I understand you're away on a story and that you may not have time to investigate what we talked about now, but I did promise you some light reading and it wouldn't be fair not to deliver. Read these over and see if it tempts you to do a little moonlighting.
L.L.
She ran her hands over the papers, disks, even the rocks that were inside it. She held one up. It was black with green specks. She stared at it, then moved to her bookshelf, pulling off the box on the top shelf. It was the same. These were the meteor rocks. Her heart beat faster as she stared at the rocks, the papers, the disks...
There was something big here.
************************
"Look out for that building!" Dan Taggart screamed from below him.
Clark hoisted him a little higher on his left, even though they were well above the building. "Almost there," he said, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
"I didn't peg Superman for a kidnapper."
"Dude, don't call Superman a kidnapper," Jimmy Olsen piped up from under his right arm. "I'm sure he has a good reason to kidnap us."
Clark rolled his eyes. "I'm not kidnapping either of you," he said, frustrated that he couldn't fly faster with human cargo. "I'm helping you."
"I don't need your help," Dan yelled.
"Yeah, I kind of don't need help either," Jimmy called up. "But I'm cool with hanging."
"And how is it not kidnapping when you take a guy from his place of work and fly with him... even after he specifically said he was afraid of heights?"
"I think it's kind of cool," Jimmy said, Clark heard a click from below. "And you get to see Chicago for free." He snapped another picture of the buildings below. "This is Chicago, right?"
"Big deal. I grew up in Chicago. And I still don't get how this is helping me."
"Just trust me." Clark flew over the gate of the large S.T.A.R. Labs complex and set them down. Murray lived on site as he worked under a grant. But he'd only been to his lab.
"Oh, thank God!" Dan clutched his chest. "What is your damage?"
Clark looked around at the many gray buildings. "What?" he asked absently.
"The papers say you're this big hero and go on and on about what you do, but with me... I mean, you interrogated me a few weeks ago and now you've kidnapped me. How is this helping me?" He lifted his chin. "Is this a homophobic thing? Do you save all the real heroics for the straight people?"
"Hey, that's not fair," Jimmy said. "I'm straight and Superman almost killed me this one time."
Clark turned. "No, I didn't."
Jimmy smiled, looking almost proud. "Yeah, you did. Remember? Lois Lane had me pretend to mug her and we were in this alleyway and... Anyway, it's great to see you again. And I'm sorry that picture was so crappy." He gestured to the camera around his neck. "If you're up for it, I could..."
"Not now," he sighed, realizing he probably should have taken more time to explain things to his captives. Jimmy thought he was in for an exclusive and he just didn't know what Dan was thinking. "Listen, Dan, this is not about homophobia." He turned to Jimmy. "And it's not about giving you a photo op. It's about Kevin Grady."
Dan folded his arms. "Yeah. I got that from your earlier interrogation. But I told you before that I don't know where he is."
"No. You said you didn't care where he was."
Dan stiffened. "Same thing."
Jimmy tilted his head. "Who's Kevin Grady?"
"Oh, just follow me." He moved toward what looked like a mock street filled with small cottages, listening hard. Takamoto was a napper. He'd heard his snore before. It was pretty distinctive. He'd recognize it any... "This way," he said, moving east.
Dan snorted. "Like I have a choice if I want to get back home. And to work," he added indignantly.
"I don't know. This is kind of awesome." Jimmy giggled. "And your coworkers didn't seem to mind."
"Yeah. Because I flew off with Superman and a kid with a camera. They're probably thinking I'm fulfilling all of their kinky fantasies."
Clark stopped. "What do you mean by that?"
"Oh, come on. Like you don't know?"
Jimmy laughed again. "Yeah. The women aren't the only ones drooling over the guy in tights."
"Do you know how many strippers..."
"Okay. Both of you be quiet." Not just because it was past midnight and not just because he wanted to concentrate on the snoring. But because... He'd just rather not know some things. He focused again. It was getting louder...
"Who the hell is using a buzz saw this time of night?" Jimmy asked from behind him, making him wince.
He pulled back on the super-hearing. If Jimmy could hear it, they must be close. He moved toward the one little cottage of them all with a blow-up turkey in the yard. That would be Murray's.
He moved to a window on the side, gesturing for them to follow. He knocked until the lump under the covers stirred. He stood back as Murray threw open the window. "Cl..." He swallowed hard and squinted at the other two beside him. "Um... Superman? What are you doing here?"
"I need your help." He held up the bag. "I brought pie."
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