Almost Partners (Chapter Seventeen)

"Damn it." Lois pulled at her pants as they walked up the pavement toward the Sharps' house.

"What's the matter?" Clark whispered.

She stopped and glared at him. "I'm sore." He only stared at her. She groaned and walked on. "Never mind." In the roughly twenty-four hours since she'd known Clark and Superman were one and the same, there had been tiny realizations. Such as the fact that, while she was aching in unmentionable places from four of the sweatiest hours she'd ever spent, he probably didn't feel a twinge. Added to that was the fact that she felt just plain irritable.

In those moments with him, she'd felt... something. Too much. She didn't know how to describe it. But it brought up questions, almost all of which started with a why.

Why was it so easy, too easy, to fall into bed with Clark? It wasn't as if the Superman detail made things easier. In fact, that brought up a whole round of what ifs to compliment her whys. What if I get pregnant? The pill's not even a hundred percent...

She shook her head and rang the bell, Clark two steps behind her. She wasn't even about to enter that line of thought. She was still stuck on the whys. But Clark... Even now, even sore and raw, she could have him now. On the grass, in thorny rosebushes, people could walk by and she could just ignore it and wrap her legs...

"Lanie."

Lois looked up and gave Pammie a startled smile, dragging her thoughts away from jumping her phony husband. "Hi."

"And Kent." She looked past Lois. "Oh, did you two bring something? There really is more than enough food. Mikey orders these steaks online and..."

"It's just wine," Clark cut in, handing Pammie a brown bag. Lois shivered slightly as his free hand landed on the small of her back. Even now...

"Oh, then thank you." Pammie grinned and stepped back. "Wine is always welcome. As are you."

She quickly entered ahead of Clark. It was all too easy, that was what was bothering her. Where was the complicated dance beforehand, the requisite four dates at the least? The shy glances and heavy make-out sessions? Why was it she could just fall on her back and have orgasm after orgasm and...

She shook herself again. Aside from the fact that they were here for the story, it was just a little pathetic to be complaining that the sex was too good. And boy was it...

"I like your house," she said quickly, trying to force her mind back where it should be. Actually, she'd hardly looked at the house, but she tried now. Nice woodwork, dark painted walls, furniture that might have been lovely... once. She was sure she saw a tiny purple hand print on the white settee in the front hall.

Pammie chuckled and walked ahead of them. "Nice of you to lie." Lois followed into the kitchen, her eyes on Pammie's back. Definitely not on Clark. "But I know my house is nowhere near as pristine as yours." She Looked past Lois. "And I think what you've done with the place is very... modern." She winked at Lois, who suddenly remembered she'd blamed the Jetson's theme on Clark.

She finally glanced at Clark. She'd been avoiding doing so since they'd left the house. After all the sex, she wasn't too confident in her ability to be around Clark and not have sex with him.

Right now, it seemed really easy to not have sex with him. He was staring into the living room, his mouth hanging opem, not looking at her or Pammie. His eyes were on a big screen TV that took up nearly the entire wall. "Wow," he said breathlessly, leaning forward slightly as one of the giants on TV flipped over another giant's head. "Whoa" was the intelligent response this moment warranted.

In this moment, it was easy to forget he was the guy who had made her nearly scream all afternoon. It was easy to forget he could fly, bend metal, start a fire with his eyes. He was just... any guy, really. Like with most things, she knew she'd be doing the heavy lifting here. Lois smiled and pushed him slightly. "Watch your game." She watched him nearly float towards the living room, where Congressman Sharp was already punching the air. Guys. They were so...

"Ugly," Pammie said from next to her.

Lois turned. "Huh?"

"I mean, you win, letting Kent turn your house into the modern space-age home, but..." She pointed at the big screen. "That thing. It's monstrous." She shrugged. "I only let Mikey get it because he let me get the walls done." She patted her kitchen wall. "Washable."

"Oh." Lois nodded. "Well, that's... important."

"When you have kids, it's necessary." She squinted at the living room. "Why is it that men never think of the practical side of things? One wrong step with a glass of grape juice and that TV is gone." She shrugged again. "Oh, well. At least my walls will survive." She moved around the counter toward a drawer and pulled out a corkscrew. "I'm glad you're here."

"Well... I'm glad to be here." That wasn't altogether true. She'd rather have some quality time with Clark's briefcase and the possibilities of a combination. She'd rather find out why Clark was after Grady. She'd rather take a drive to Metropolis and find out what Jimmy knew that she didn't.

"I'm not just glad you're here," Pammie said, pulling the cork out. "I'm glad you moved here." She smiled slightly. "So many of the women around here are... Oh, I don't know. They're phony. The only reason I get invited to their parties is because of Mikey's job." She laughed. "Actually, the only reason I go to those same parties is because of Mikey's job." She sighed. "I didn't exactly sign up for this life. But anyway, you... Well, you're real, Lanie."

Lois smiled, feeling a twinge of guilt. She wasn't real. She wasn't even Lanie. Sometimes she wasn't sure who she was.

There was a loud roar from the living room and Pammie flinched. "Worse than the kids. We should take this outside."

Lois stood straighter, trying to tear her mind out of itself. With Pammie so genuinely pleased to see her, she could at least show some interest in her hostess. "Where are the kids?"

"They're at Mike's mother's house." Pammie moved to the cabinets and pulled out two glasses and handed them to Lois. "They'll be back after dinner." She shook her head as she opened the sliding door off the kitchen. "They've been gone since last night. I was sort of hoping Mikey would want to go for a nice dinner, some wine last night. But no. Last night was the night he spent checking that Mike Jr's new video game had nothing inappropriate." She smiled and took the glasses from Lois. "By which I mean, he played Diablo 2 until about four in the morning." She sighed as she poured out two glasses on the glass-top table. "Well, I guess you get what you want in the end." She gestured to the steaks sizzling on the grill next to the table. "Nice dinner and a little wine." She handed Lois a glass. "No romance, but you can't have everything." She peeked through the glass doors. "I hope your idiot's more attentive to you."

Lois chuckled slightly and sat down at the table, warmed by the grill next to them. "He's... attentive enough." She sat back and sipped at her wine. Strangely, even this declaration was not putting her mind back on Clark. She found herself, strangely, fascinated by Pammie. She'd given up hope that there was a story to the Sharps, beyond the fact that they happened to live where the Met Vista investigation was centered. Mike was friendly and harmless. Pammie was... a little more than that. The sense of humor and confidence that only peeked out at the other Met Vista functions seemed to pour from her here, in her own territory, on her own turf. Here, she seemed smart, funny... She wondered what Pammie would have been if she hadn't married Michael Sharp.

Lois leaned forward as Pammie poked at the steaks, still standing. "What did you mean before?"

"Before when?" Pammie moved back and sat.

"You said you didn't sign up for this life." Lois gestured to her, waiting for her to elaborate.

Pammie laughed. "You catch everything, don't you?" She smiled and leaned back. "I don't know. Mikey used to run a diner in Granville when we started dating. I liked it better then. It was just us and a little apartment above a shop. It was when he ran for town council that it started. Now I have to smile pretty and have minor coronary events if our oldest girl is out too late. I don't like the city much. Even this place." She shrugged. "It mimics a little town, but it isn't, really. It's too damned... Well, rich. Everyone here has appearances to keep up. Us, too. I liked it better when we were anonymous. We didn't have to try so hard to..." She stopped and sipped her wine. "Anyway, it's not all bad."

Lois nearly wanted to dig further into what they had to try so hard to do, but she was distracted by the fact that Pammie was actually sipping wine. "Pammie!"

Pammie started and looked up. "What? The steaks? Are they..."

"No." She grasped the wine glass in Pammie's hand and pulled it away. "What in the hell are you thinking? You have a baby on the way. You can't have..."

"No baby," Pammie cut in quickly. "Found out Friday. The natural way."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Lois handed her back the wine.

Pammie took it and smiled sadly. "Don't be. I... I have enough, I guess. I just... Well, my periods have always been like clockwork. I guess that late one had me sort of hoping." She breathed deep. "I love babies. I love their smell and all of those silly moments when they're just discovering everything you've seen all your life. Colors. Sounds." She released a long breath. "It really makes you feel as if you're seeing it all anew. I guess that's what I wanted to talk to you about the other day. I guess I just wanted to tell you that, whatever fertility treatment you're thinking of using..." She leaned forward and grasped Lois' hand. "Do it. Do whatever you can. It truly is worth it." She gave a watery laugh. "And maybe I just wanted to mourn a little with someone who understood."

Lois felt guilty all over again. Not only was she not trying to have a baby, she definitely didn't understand the struggle of these women. They were all women who wanted children, were ready for children. And they couldn't. They were all actively trying to have children, putting all of their money into it, when they... She found herself standing. "Can I use your bathroom?" she asked quickly.

"Oh, sure. It's just past the kitchen and to the left." Pammie stood as well. "Sweetie, are you okay? I wasn't trying to upset you with the talk about..."

"I'm fine," Lois said quickly. "Really. I just need to use the bathroom." She forced a smile as she turned to the sliding door, opening it and making a beeline for Clark. She leaned over behind the couch. "Can I see you a sec?" she whispered.

"Huh?" He was still staring ahead.

She poked him in the shoulder. "I really need to see you now!" She punctuated this last with a pull on his shirt.

He finally turned. "Lois, I'm kind of..."

She rolled her eyes and grasped his arm. "Just come here," she hissed. She pulled him behind her out of the living room, not stopping until they reached the downstairs bathroom. "Nice name slip," she said as she pushed him ahead of her. "It's not like we're under cover or anything!"

"Well, you had to come just as the Sharks were gaining..."

"That doesn't matter, Clark." She closed the door and turned to him.

He looked nearly offended. "Yes, it does. It matters to everyone in Kansas. If the Sharks..."

"I hope they lose," she said, ignoring his gasp. "Now, Pammie just said something that..."

"Take that back," he said suddenly.

"Clark, what's gotten into you?"

He grasped her arms. "You say stuff like that and you jinx the entire season, Lois. You can't..."

She leaned up and kissed him. She really didn't know what else to do. He was just a little too sexy when he was stupid. When he was breathing, even. She wondered how she'd missed it all this time. She pulled away, noting his half-mast eyes. "Can we focus now?" she breathed against his mouth.

He nodded, staring at her lips. She leaned up again, giving him a quick peck, wondering if she had some sort of idiot fetish.

"Clark, all of the couples were trying to have babies. We're focusing on the female half... Well, except with Joanna and Morgan. They were both female, weren't they?" She shook her head. "Anyway, both went missing. They could have just taken the women, leaving the others behind. They took both. Added to that, everyone had, at the least, a six figure income. They can afford to be away. Not only is there a connection with the weight, the condition, there's the desire for a child..."

He shook his head, staring at her. "I don't get it."

She shook him slightly. "Wherever these couples are, they might have been convinced they want to be there. That's why they're so hard to find. Clark, they could all be alive."

He straightened. "We could get them all back."

"Exactly!" She turned and opened the door. "You know, I thought this investigation was going south, but really..." She stopped just entering the hall. Pammie was right in front of her, an oven mitt on one hand, a pair of tongs in the other.

Pammie suddenly smiled. "Steaks are ready."

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

Sex. Sports.

Clark shook himself, looking at Lois, who was moving toward the kitchen with Pammie, then at the living room, where Mike and his amazing TV waited for him. Between sex and sports, he could call this the best day ever -- except for the pesky investigation that hung over their heads. It would be nice, though. He'd love to pretend they were Kent and Lanie Cameron, out for steaks with the neighbors after an afternoon of sex, sex, and more sex.

In reality, they were Lois and Clark, leaving no neighbor unturned after an afternoon of avoidance sex.

Wasn't that what sex had always been for them? Kal had sex with Chloe to avoid life as Clark. Now Lois was having sex with him to avoid... herself. The truth. Chloe. And damned if he wasn't allowing her to do it, just as she'd allowed him.

He shuffled into the living room and took his place on the couch again. It wasn't so simple, though. He was kidding himself if he thought he could just stop. Their bodies had been drawn together from the first time he took her up against an alley wall. But still... every time had been so damned intense.

He wished that, just once, they could have something simpler. He wondered what sex was like when they were themselves, were sure they would live the next day, and weren't pissed at each other. Why couldn't they, just once, have sex because they wanted to? Because it felt good? Because it was Tuesday? Something normal.

"Just one time..."

"I know," Mike groaned next to him. "Every time they gain a yard, that idiot Reilly fumbles." Clark glanced at Mike, who shook his head. "Guy can run, but he's got butterfingers."

Clark nodded, pretending his mind was still on the game. It wasn't, really, not anymore. How could he enjoy the game when she was working? " I hear the people that owned our house were nice."

"Huh?"

"Did you know them?"

Mike finally turned. "Know who?"

"The Kerns? The ones who used to..."

"Kern." Mike looked off a sec. "Didn't he used to coach the Jets?"

"No. The Kerns who used to live in our house."

"Never heard of 'em," he said absently, his eyes straying back to the TV again. "Oh! Did you see that? Can't they pass to someone who can actually hold the ball?"

Clark sighed and leaned back, wondering if it would have been better if Lois had moved here as a single woman. In reality, she'd done more on Met Vista than he had. Of course, it did help that women actually talked.

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

Dinner had been a little quiet. Mostly because both men seemed bent on inhaling their food to get back to the TV before half-time was over. As much as Lois knew that congressmen were mere mortals, she'd expected Mike Sharp to be a little less... average. She glanced through the doorway at Clark. Then again, she'd been spending quite a lot of time with Superman himself and he was about as average as it got. She smiled to herself. But only in some ways.

She dropped the smile and turned back to the kitchen. She had to stop this. Sure, the sex was good. But walking around with a goofy grin on her face was no way to keep things clear. Clark is my partner. Clark is Superman. Clark is Superman and my partner and we have sex. She shook her head. There was no way to keep things clear. This was as muddled as it got.

"Can I help with anything?"

"You're a guest. So no." Pammie smiled and placed the rest of the dirty dishes in the sink. "We'll have to try this on a night when there's no game. Mikey's usually more... Actually, never mind. It beats me how he gets elected."

Lois laughed. "Well, Kent's not the world's greatest conversationalist, either."

Pammie smiled slyly. "Not even in the bathroom?"

"Well, that was just..."

"Oh, I'm just teasing. I'm jealous, actually. I remember a time when Mikey and I couldn't keep our hands off each other. Lasted, too. I swear, most of our marriage, I've been pregnant. I was a skinny thing like you. Skinnier, really. Maybe too skinny." She glanced off and sighed. "Well, not a problem now."

Lois moved toward her. "Don't say that. You're... zaftig. It's very refreshing. I mean, do you want to be a processed stick like Dodie?"

Pammie laughed. "Thanks. I probably needed..." She trailed off, looking out her kitchen window.

Lois followed her gaze. "Is that... Marcy?"

Pammie followed her gaze. "Oh, she's probably looking for her dog." She moved to the sliding door. "Hi, Marcy."

"Oh, Pammie... I'm sorry. I was just..." came a faint voice from the yard. Lois followed as Pammie moved outside and turned the light on. Marcy was in the middle of Pammie's yard.

"Did you lose that dog of yours again?"

Marcy stared blankly at her. "Dog?"

"I haven't seen Foxy, but..." Pammie trailed off, looking through the gate. "Oh, Marcy, he's right there on your patio."

"Oh, well..." Marcy giggled somewhat nervously. "I was just... I didn't see him, I guess." She shuffled back to the gate. Lois noticed she was in her nightgown. "I'm sorry to bug you... Oh. Hello, Lanie."

"Hi." Lois peered closely at her. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Me? I'm fine. Just..." Marcy moved to the fence and placed a hand on it. "I can't seem to get my bearings today."

Pammie moved to the fence. "Where's your other half?"

"Hmm?"

"Lizzie," Pammie said, patting her hand. "Don't you two quilt on Sundays?"

"Oh, that niece of hers is visiting." She looked around again. "Have you seen my Foxy?"

"He's right behind you," Lois pointed out. The tiny dog hadn't moved.

"Oh, there he is. Well..." She glanced at Lois. "I just can't seem to get my bearings today. I..." Her voice faded as she moved into her house, the little dog at her heels.

They both watched her disappear. "Is she okay?"

"Marcy? Oh, she's... just getting on, I guess. She is nearly eighty. I should tell Lizzie." Pammie sighed and moved back to the kitchen. "Lizzie takes a great deal of care of her. The both of them have lived here since the first house was built." She pursed her lips. "Sad, though. Marcy is sort of the unofficial counselor of the neighborhood. If anyone knows what's going on, it's always been her. It's sad to think a lovely mind like that could fade." She suddenly winced.

"Pammie, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just a little twinge. I've got an appointment with my gynecologist. See what the heck's going on with me. I mean, missed periods, hair in the funniest places, this pain in my..." She rubbed low on her belly. "I don't know if it's the change or what."

Lois tried not to blink. These were famliar symptoms. She hadn't read all those files for nothing. "Really? When are you going to the doctor?"

Pammie shrugged. "Tuesday morning. He said he'd squeeze me in."

"Maybe we can have lunch in the city when you're done. On me," she offered quickly. "I could meet you."

"Well, that's sweet of you. It would be nice. Mike jets off to Washington. It would be nice to have a little something to look forward to..."

"Lois?" Both women turned to see Clark in the doorway. "Game's over. Sharks lost." He glanced at Pammie. "Mike kind of nodded off."

Pammie rolled her eyes. "That's what happens when you stay up until four with a video game." She moved to the door. "I'll go rouse him for goodbyes."

Lois stayed outside as Pammie went in. She toed the grass as Clark came to stand beside her. "Get anything out of Mike?"

Clark shook his head. "I don't know. The Sharps might be a dead-end."

Lois pursed her lips. "I don't think so. In fact, I think..." She leaned closer to Clark. "I think I know who's behind this and Clark.... I think Pammie could be next."

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

"The symptoms match up. Plus, she seems to be their type," Lois said, tossing her purse on the table, still littered with chicken, rice, and crushed boxes. "Oh, God. Look at this."

"But she already has five kids. The others were all childless." Clark closed the door. "Besides that, she's the wife of a congressman. Wouldn't that be a little... risky for them?"

"They're taking couples, Clark. It's risky enough. I mean, even you noticed."

He folded his arms. "I'd kind of like you to explain what you mean by that."

She sighed, looking at his hurt expression. How did he do that? Just make her feel like a total bitch. She moved toward the table and picked up a crumpled box. "I... Well, you're new at reporting and investigating, okay? I mean, I respect that you have certain... abilities that I don't, but..." She straightened, still holding the box. "Clark, I'm not trying to insult you. I just... I think you should trust my judgment."

He nodded, tight-lipped. "A judgment hampered by the fact that Pammie is the wife of a..."

"Ooh!" She threw the box down. "This is not an attempt to multi-task, okay? This is a genuine..." She trailed off as he seemed to disappear and yet... It was as if a wind swirled around her and streaks of color flew back and forth. She backed up to the window, staring around her. The damn dining area was clean. She felt a surge of... something. She didn't know what to call it. She suddenly realized that, in their time at Met Vista, she hadn't even washed a dish. "So... this is how you've been doing it. Keeping things clean with all that... speediness."

Clark shrugged. "I don't know. Made things easier on the farm." He shook his head. "Anyway, Lois... We can't just jump to conclusions because Pammie's... womanly things are a little..."

She rolled her eyes. She had to. "They're called periods, Clark. God, you're so..." Provinicial, annoying, adorable... How could she have such a strange mixture of feelings for someone she hardly knew, really? "Pammie being the wife of a congressman might be just what they need. Government funding or public support, whichever they're after..."

"It's just.. It doesn't fit the original profile."

"Screw the profile, Clark. We need to make a move. I say we put Pamie under surveillance. And as for Marcy..."

"Marcy now? I mean, you mentioned her on the walk home, but I thought you were kidding..."

"You weren't there. She was acting really strange and... secretive."

"I've met her, too, you know. She's a sweet old lady who'd just getting on and..."

"And spying on Pammie."

"You don't know that."

"Clark, she was in the middle of the yard in her nightgown. It's suspicious, to say the least." She leaned up to him. "I don't want to sound nuts, but... couldn't she be keeping on eye on her next mark?"

"She's in her seventies, Lois."

"Exactly," she said, nearly excited now. "She's running out of time. She wants to complete her life's work."

"She's a widow with one daughter who knits for prizes, Lois."

"And you're a rookie reporter who grew up on a farm. And yet you happen to throw on stockings and fly when the mood..."

"They are NOT stockings," Clark cut in loudly. "They're... Well, they're not stockings," he finished lamely.

"Clark, the point is that people are not always what they seem." She took a deep breath. "I want to keep tabs on both women."

Clark sighed. "Lois, this was my piece and I let you in. We have to at least agree on..."

"Oh, that's rich." She stepped up to him. "You may have started this piece, but I've been doing the heavy lifting all along while you've been caught up with your secretive little... secrets."

"Secretive little..."

She stomped her foot. "Oh, just... I'm going to go forward in whichever way I see fit," she said firmly. "You are not the boss, you know."

"So I can just sit back and watch you blow the entire investigation?"

"No. You can pursue your own angles." She tapped her chin. "I wonder what those would be..." She smiled, watching his face turn slightly red.

"So that's what you want to do? You go your way and I'll go mine?"

"Guess that's how it has to be," she said, lifting her chin.

He pursed his lips. "Fine, then."

Lois watched him stomp off towards his room, coming back with the crumpled mound of plastic that, until recently, had been Clark's bed. "What are you doing?"

"Going to bed," he said shortly.

She crossed her arms. If he was going to be high-handed and dominating, he could at least do it where appropriate... In bed, for instance. She was still sore from the near record-breaking afternoon and she still could have him... Of course, she was not about to tell him that. "Fine," she said, stomping toward the bedroom. "I hope the bed collapses under your gigantic ego," she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that," he called behind her.

"I wanted you to," she shot back before slamming the door.

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Chapter Eighteen