Almost Partners (Chapter Twelve)

Clark stood in the hallway and contemplated what he was about to do. He gripped the bobby pin in his hand. Picking locks was not as easy as they made it look in movies, but having X-ray vision certainly helped you see what you were doing.

He'd been in the other two Met Vista houses, wanting at least that much to be just as he's told her. But this? He could never tell her this. He put his briefcase down, hearing the dull clunk of the lead box. Lois had three locks on her door. It might take a bit.

He worked on the top lock first and thought about the other two houses. He took some more fibers with faded traces of the chemical concoction's scent on them, but he doubted they'd tell him anything new. Still, the traces weren't nearly heavy enough.

If it was as he suspected, then the entire house was gassed, leaving its occupants open to be easily taken. Later, those with EZ Move had probably done a bit of cleaning. It would take a nose like his to find what they missed. He hadn't bothered with the other houses until now, thinking the case would be the same. And maybe it would be. Maybe he'd bring these to Murray and find nothing new. But Met Vista was at a dead end. Any little bit of work would help.

So what was he doing now? Breaking into Lois' apartment when he should be working on Met Vista? There were things worse than chemicals. And kryptonite would harm more than him. No one should be around it.

He wiped his forehead as the last tumblers clicked away. He was sweating. It was still in there. He braced himself and opened the door, taking small steps toward her desk, feeling himself weaken, his insides churn, the blood in his veins turn solid, prickly... It wasn't in the desk. His vision told him that much. He stumbled against a shelf and felt the pain intensify. It hurt, but he stood straighter.

"Here somewhere," he gasped, running his hands over the tops of books, then the top of the shelf until... It burned to touch it, but he did, dropping it... them... on the floor. Two rocks. He took the box out with shaky hands and picked them up with aching hands, dropping both in, only breathing when he'd closed it.

He stumbled to the window, letting what small rays of sunshine came through the trees touch him. He remembered Linda telling him she had one rock. He even remembered she'd got it from Miss Tessmacher. Where had the other come from?

He shuddered as warmth ran over him. It didn't matter where it had come from. She might not know what the kryptonite does, but he did. What's more, even seeing it could hurt her. He couldn't let her get to close to the truth before he found a way to get her to Murray, get the headaches under control. And how would he explain that level of intrusion? He looked around him. He was intruding enough.

He took his first unconstricted breath as his body returned to normal. His eyes flew open as a smell hit him, sickly and sweet. Maybe the scent of the chemical compound from the houses was still in his system, but he could swear he smelled it right now. He took a deeper breath and...

"It's here," he breathed. He breathed it in again and followed it to her room. Without the kryptonite weakening him, the smell grew stronger. He opened the door. "Oh, my God!"

There were papers strewn everywhere, her laptop on the floor, pieces of it's lid near it. Disks were scattered. He'd think someone had broken in if it weren't for the other messes, such as pens, highlighters, half-empty coffee mugs strewn around as well. The smell hit him again and he ignored the mess, floating carefully over it toward her headboard. It was strongest there and he reached down, between it and the wall. He pulled up cloth, covered in dust bunnies. It had probably been there for months. He shook it out. It was... a T-shirt. An "I heart Metropolis" T-shirt.

He knew the one. He'd given it to her. He smelled again. The chemicals... It wasn't just that he'd given this shirt to her that was bugging him. He'd only seen her wear it once. That night. It had been the night he'd read her letter. And he'd gone to her, hoping to start over... only to find she had started over without him. That was the night she'd crushed him--the way he'd crushed her so many times--the way she'd been crushing him since.

He stood for moment, clutching it, looking down at the papers. They weren't just anything. They were scans of The Torch. "Oh, God."

That was why she'd looked so weak and sickly yesterday. She'd been nearly poisoning herself with... truth. He gripped the shirt harder in his hand, wondering why this shirt would have the same chemicals as the Met Vista houses. The answer was obvious.

He quickly shed his clothes, putting them in his briefcase with the box. He'd go to Chicago. And he wouldn't feel bad for shirking the Met Vista investigation. Because he wasn't, not at all. "It's all connected. All of it."

************************

The woman in the white coat reached a rubber gloved hand for her phone. "Just checking in," she said, her tone brisk. "No... Not quite yet. I told you I need more of the original sample... Well, why don't you just tell me where you got it and I'll get it myself.... Fine. But these babies will be no more than ordinary if you don't... Good... What does she have to do with it? She's been nearly useless anyway, holed up with her notes... Have you found him yet? We may need him when we've succeeded, if ever... Oh, one more thing." She held a small card in her gloved hand. "I was right about the Camerons... I've got one driver's license here and the names don't quite match, so I did some digging and... Well, this is relevant because I found she works for The Daily Planet... Lois Lane... What's wrong?"

**************************

Lois had the worst time getting through the gate beyond the badly-paved road. It wasn't just that she couldn't find her license, though that was true. It wasn't even that the guard was a prick, though that was definitely true. It was that she couldn't get cell phone reception out here in Cornhusker County.

"Listen, Mr. Luthor is expecting me. Can't I just use your phone to call him?"

"Ma'am, the gate extension is only for employees and guests of Luthor Mansion. Without proper identification, I cannot count you as either. Please return to your vehicle while I clear this up with my superior.""

She could not believe she was being thwarted by the red tape of a rent-a-cop. "Lex Luthor is your employer. Why don't you just call him and..."

"Jackson, would you just let Miss Lane in?" She started. It was Luthor. The voice was coming from his radio.

"How the heck does he know?" she mumbled.

"I can see you on the monitors, Miss Lane. Jackson?"

"Yes, Sir. Copy that." He smiled and opened the gate. "There you are. Enjoy your visit."

Lois rolled her eyes and got back in her car. The guard waved as she drove through--as if he hadn't just treated her like an intruder. She gritted her teeth. The damn headaches had been steady for an hour. She was not in the mood to hightail it to the DMV after this meeting, but she'd probably have to just to get it over with, get a duolicate license. "Stupid license. Stupid headaches. Stupid... mansion," she muttered, parking in the drive.

She took a deep breath, one of many she'd taken on this trip. It helped sometimes, but... She nearly preferred the headaches to the visions. Faces she couldn't place saying things she couldn't quite catch. Sometimes she wondered if she'd lived another life, other times she thought she must be possessed. Clearly she'd been reading too many tall tales of meteor freaks.

What was crazy was that the town seemed so perfect, so homey and sweet. So like the man it had raised, like Clark. Yet there was an underbelly. Did Clark have an underbelly? Was that why he didn't want her in his town?

She looked at the sprawling grounds as she walked up the tree-lined lane to the mansion. Here was something that couldn't be mistaken for homey and sweet. It was almost too ostentatious, stuck on the edge of this town liek a sore thumb. It didn't fit.

The door opened for her before she even thought to knock.

"In the study," a brawny man said. "Follow me." He looked better suited to police work than domestic service. But she supposed a man like Luthor needed brawn more than polish. How many people would love to get their hands on a corporate shark who was definitely off his game.

When she entered the study, it hit her again. She stiffened and focused on putting one foot in front of the other as the man gestured to a chair at the side of a monstrous desk. Her hands shook slightly and she folded them in her lap, waiting for her host.

"I'm sorry about that," a voice said behind her. She looked over her shoulder to find Luthor in the doorway. "My security tends to be a little overzealous, but it's a necessary evil."

She turned slightly in her seat, curiosity pricking at her as sure as pain was. "Why's that?" She glanced over his shoulder as a woman appeared behind him. She remembered her, right down to the sullen look on her face. It was the assistant from the party. She nodded and tried a smile. The woman only glared back.

"More than a few things were missing upon my return," Luthor was saying, moving to a sideboard and pouring dark amber liquid into a tumbler. "According to records, at least. Not that I'd know."

"Isn't it early for that, Lex?"

"Miss Tessmacher," he said, sounding a little tense. "Why don't you find something to occupy yourself?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Fine," she said, flouncing off.

"Sorry about that," Lex said, turning the glass in his hand. "Some of my staff seem to think my business isn't my own." He looked off. "I really want to get it back."

"Your business?"

"My life," he said, moving toward a pool table in the center of the room.

Lois was hit with another bout of deja vu. "H-have... Have I been here?" she wondered, suddenly realizing she'd said it aloud. She cleared her throat. "What was this place before you owned it?"

"It was in Scotland. My father had it shipped, stone by stone, and rebuilt here. At least he was planning to, the last I can remember." He sighed. "And therein lies the whole problem. I can't get much. All my former staff is either gone or... not saying much." He paced away from the pool table. "Documents missing, too. I suppose the government seized them as evidence of my father's work, but there's just... nothing." He closed his eyes. "Much like my mind. Even money missing." He smiled sadly. "I can't really call myself a billionaire. Maybe a mutli-millionaire, but... Maybe that's best saved for another interview."

"Interview? I had no idea that's what this was. Does that mean we're on the record, here?"

"You're tricky." He shook his head and smiled again. "I don't even care what's on the record anymore. I have nothing to hide. I have nothing at all. That's why I wanted your help. I hoped you could see things in those articles I might have missed. I know Smallville's not your usual beat, but... Well, I find some of it fascinating."

So did she. She took a deep breath at another bout of pain that lanced through the backs of her eyes. "But what about the money?" Maybe that was safe. She couldn't take all the stimuli at once.

"The money is another mystery. It apparently started during my stay at Belle Reve. Money was very cleverly wired to an off-shore account in the Cayman Islands, just a bit at a time, and it went on weekly up until the time I was released. Possibly someone at Luthorcorp, possibly someone with an axe to grind. There's no way of knowing. Even the money itself is irretrievable. It was traced to the account, which is now empty, but no further." He sighed. "I should be more upset. But I've ceased to care about money. More will be made. I'm slowly buying up Luthorcorp again and making some strides in getting things back to the way they must have been before I was reduced to what you see." He shrugged. "Money's not important. What I care about now is the truth. And, though much of my father's work is gone, I did find a glimmer of hope."

"Meaning?"

"My memories might not be lost to me." He smiled. "There's a way to get them back, if only for 24 hours." He strode to his desk. "You see, I have a little side project going. Some notes were retrieved about a serum that can restore someone from a catatonic state into full awareness. Now, I'm clearly not catatonic, but I'm definitely lacking full awareness." He chuckled. "Of course, I have no idea if it will work and, to be honest, it's only in the mid stages. Nothing I'm willing to risk trying yet, but.... Hypnotherapy, regression, none of it has an effect. Even information is hard to come by. That's where I need you."

"But why me? I don't understand why..."

"I read the things you wrote around the time of my release. You are full of opinion, but you do have a fondness for fact. Everyone I hire seems to soft-shoe around me, even those closest. I don't think you'll do that." He glanced to the doorway. Lois followed his gaze to see Miss Tessmacher in the doorway, her hands behind her back, a smirk on her face and a smudge on her blouse. "Yes?"

"Just wanted to see if you two needed anything."

"We're fine," he said through clenched teeth.

Eve looked down at the smudge and looked back up, smiling at Lois. "Good. I think I'll go for a swim." Her hair flipped slightly as she flounced away.

Lois' hands clenched, thinking of the serum. It could be useful to more than Lex. What she knew was that she'd had some sort of childhood trauma, something Kevin Grady had taken from her. Whatever it was, she wanted it back. Kevin Grady had taken full-on years from Lex. The serum could be useful to more than him.

"I can help you with information," she said slowly, "but I want something in exchange."

He grinned and pulled out his checkbook. "Name your price."

"The serum," she said. "I'd like to be in on every step."

*********************

Murray stared at the print-out from the lab as Clark paced behind him. "It's a similar concoction, he said, worrying at a thumbnail. "But there are differences. Where did you get this? From Met Vista, too?"

"From... a friend's house."

"This friend, is it a she? As in the she you were referring to..."

"Murray, please. Not now. Just... what are the results?"

"The other compound contained kolokol-1, paroxetine, and loprazolam."

Clark sighed. "Could you break that down for me?"

"Well, as we know, kolokol-1, which has a more easily identifiable scent, is a fast-acting incapacitator. I think its use is a little unethical, but let's leave that out of this for now. Loprazolam is a sedative that also has muscle relaxant properties. Paroxetine is a mood stabilizer. It's used to treat depression and anxiety. My belief is that, in the case of these couples, the chemical compound was used, in the form of a gas, to incapacitate them immediately. That's the kolokol. Then keep them down with the added loprazolam, and keep them from struggling, maybe make them feel secure. That would explain the Paroxetine." He stared at the print-out, then the shirt, now in Clark's hands. "This has the added traces of flunitrazepam."

"And that is..."

"It's commonly known as rohypnol, referred to in street slang as a roofie."

"The date rape drug?" The word itself seemed to fit. Rape. Lois' mind had been invaded.

"Well, I don't think that's the case here. Also, while the couples were gassed in their homes, this person wasn't. The heaviest concentration of the compound is on the neckline and shoulders of the shirt, areas nearest the head. Possibly, she was masked." He looked up at Clark. "Could that be right? Or did you find traces anywhere else?" Clark shook his head. "At any rate, rohypnol would make a person more... biddable, if you will. A little more open to suggestion. I might go so far as to say that it would make them a little too open, especially this concentrated."

"Meaning?"

"If you believe, as I think you do, that Grady worked on this particular person while under the influence of this compound, while directly under the influence, her mind might soak up whatever she was given too readily."

He stared hard at the T-shirt. "Grady always went on about forgetting what brings you pain, remembering bringing pain and..."

"And this mind might be taking that nearly literally."

"But why on her? Why not on the others? Jimmy and Dan, they never..."

"From what you learned from Dan, two of Grady's projects were a special case, a special assignment."

"Lois and Lex," he said, his voice hard. "But who would want them, and only them, to be treated in this way?"

Murray shrugged. "You're the investigative reporter. I'm just a scientist, Clark. But I'll tell you one thing, I'd bet my life that whoever had Grady work on these partiulcar people also has a stake in Met Vista. If you ever want to bring me this she of yours..."

Clark squeezed the shirt in his hand, then tossed it on the table. "I think I do. I have to." Maybe Lois wouldn't listen to Clark, but she might listen to Superman.

**********************

He went to the house first. It was now past one and she wasn't home. He calmed himself down. She was probably in the city. She'd said she would be. He tried her apartment again, but a quick scan told him she wasn't there. Maybe she'd gone to The Planet to use their resources. But, by the time he'd changed and walked into the empty bullpen, he couldn't find her there either.

"Hey, C.K." Jimmy called to him, his feet up on a desk. "What are you doing here? Aren't you still playing house with Lois?" He waggled his eyebrows and tossed a piece of popcorn in the air, failing to catch it in his mouth.

"Actually, I'm looking for Lois. Has she been here today?"

Jimmy shook his head. "Haven't seen her since last night. But, hey... you haven't happened to maybe see... Superman, around?"

"Why?"

"Just have some stuff... to... ask him." Jimmy cleared his throat and leaned back, failing to look casual. "You wouldn't be interested. Really."

Clark smiled slightly. You'd be surprised. "If I see him, I'll send him your way. I promise."

"Cool. Anyway, I'll be hanging out here all weekend. My roommate's ex girlfriend is visiting and... Well, they seem to be getting back together." He snorted. "A little too together." He shook his head. "He better remember this in case I ever... Well, you know..."

"Got it." Clark shifted slightly, wanting to be gone. "So... Good seeing you."

He rushed to the rooftop and changed again, putting his clothes in his briefcase. He wondered if anyone would wonder why Superman was carrying a briefcase around, but he had too much on his mind to worry about appearances.

He quickly changed back at the house, really getting sick of the back and forth. Maybe she was still hanging around Pammie. It was worth a try.

He walked down the street, remembering that Mike had said they had the green house with the lawn gnome collection. He stopped in front, but quickly scanned first. In this neighborhood, anyone could be a closet gnome enthusiast. He saw her in her kitchen, a kid on the counter in front of her, her hands wiping at what looked like spaghetti sauce.

He knocked, trying to calm himself. It wouldn't do to let Pammie know he was frantic by now.

Pammie answered, surprise on her face. "Kent. The game's not till tomorrow. If you're looking for Mikey..."

"Actually, I'm looking for Lois."

Her brows drew together. "Lois?"

He winced. "Lanie. Sorry. Lois is... her middle name. We sometimes call each other by our middle names. It's a thing we do."

"Oh, well..." Pammie smiled. "I sometimes call Mikey Sugarlumps, so... we all have our things."

Clark moved forward on instinct. "Is she..."

"I haven't seen her since this morning. She had a doctor's appointment, I think." She tilted her head. "Didn't you know?"

"I must've forgot," he said, putting on a smile. "So that's where Lois is."

"Lanie," Pammie corrected, looking closely at him.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Don't tell anyone about that middle name thing, by the way. She hates it."

"I won't," Pammie said. Someone called "Mom!" from inside. "I'd better..."

"I'll let you get back to it," he said, hoping to get out of this trainwreck of a conversation before he slipped and gave her Lois' press badge. "Bye."

"Bye," she echoed, giving him another curious look before closing the door.

He turned away and moved down the street, his fists clenched. She wasn't at either residence, she wasn't at The Planet, she wasn't with Pammie... There was one place she might be and he hoped, for her sake, she wasn't there.

He let himself in the house and moved toward the phone in the kitchen, wondering why he hadn't thought of just calling before. He paced the kitchen as it rang.

"Clark," her voice came through, sounding overly pleasant. "What's up?"

"Where are you?" he asked without preamble.

"Oh, I'm fine. How are you?"

His hand clenched again. She was deliberately ignoring his question. "Don't play games, Lois. I've been everywhere and..."

"Oh, relax," she said, sounding impatient. "I'll be back in... about three hours."

"Back from where?" He asked tightly.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Don't change the subject. Where are you?"

"Just... checking up on a lead." He heard the sound of an engine starting.

"A lead in Smallville?"

There was a pause. "And what business is it of yours?"

He let out a sigh. That was answer enough. "Lois..."

"I can go where I want to, Clark. See who I want to."

He stiffened. "Who did you see?"

She let out a long breath. "I had a meeting with Lex Luthor, okay?"

"Lois! How could you..."

"I know you don't trust him, Clark, but he's basically harmless, especially after his amnesia. The guy's more like a declawed cat than a corporate shark. I actually feel a little sorry for him."

She wouldn't. Not if she knew. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Lois, why can't you just..."

"Oh, Clark, I don't get you. I mean, you seem so invested in me staying away from your town. It's just a little farming town, okay? There's even a guy crossing with sheep ahead of me. If that's not harmless, I don't know... Oh, God!"

His eyes snapped open. "What?"

"My brakes! Clark, I can't..." The line went dead.

"Lois," he breathed. The phone dropped as hee rushed out the door and into the air. His clothes caught the air and he shed them as he sped east. He needed speed. He needed to get to her. "I'm coming. Hold on."

*************************

Lois clutched the wheel and turned it hard to the left, narrowly avoiding the man and his sheep. Corn crushed in front of her and she let it, hoping it would stop her forward motion. But it didn't. There was a house...

She jerked the wheel hard into a field of yet more corn and held on for life as it jerked and bumped, decimating the stalks. There were hills ahead. She headed for them, hoping they would stop her, but her car still sped forward as her foot uselessly pumped the brake.

She held on as she sped over one and actually gained more speed, spilling onto a flat plain. "Oh, God! Somebody... Help!"

In that moment, she hardly cared that she was still making payments on the car. She clutched the knob and pulled at her seat belt, ready to jump out, but the plain gave way to a clearing with trees on either side and she felt herself paralyzed by fear and by a strong feeling that she'd been here before. It had hit her all through the town, but here... Her body froze, her head exploded in pain and she tried to make her hands work and there was water. It was getting closer...

A flash of red and blue flew in front of her eyes and she felt herself jerk forward. The seatbelt dug into her chest and stomach and she felt all motion stop. She closed her eyes and leaned back. She was alive. She knew that blur. "Superman," she mumbled.

********************

Clark pushed the car backward, making sure it was stopped. He let go of the hood and looked through the windshield. Her eyes were closed. "Lois?"

He moved to her door and pulled a little too hard, feeling it come off in his hand. He dropped it. It didn't matter. As long as she was okay. "Lois," he repeated.

He saw her chest rise and words poured weakly from her mouth, so low only he could hear them. "I knew it was you. It's always you," she said, her eyes still closed.

"I got you," he said softly, working at her seatbelt. "You're okay." He pulled her to him. Her head lolled against his chest.

"My brakes," she mumbled.

"I know. We'll find out who did this." But he had an idea. Was it a coincidence that her brakes stopped working just as she left Lex Luthor's house? He knew it couldn't be.

Her head lolled back and she looked up at him, still half-in the car. "You... you..."

"Are you hurt? We should get you to the hospital."

Her eyes widened. "You... you..."

"What?" Was she delirious. "What is it?"

She stiffened in his arms. Her hands suddenly pushed at his chest. "You forgot to take off your glasses... Clark."

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Chapter Thirteen