Almost Partners (Chapter Thirty-Two)

Linda bent to the utility box as Lois shined the tiny flashlight on her key ring into it. "Well, I don't see why you didn't just give me a call and say Oh, by the way, I'm having horrible blackouts and headaches."

"I was mad at you," Lois hissed. "Now would you concentrate? We'll talk later." Linda bent to her task again as Lois leaned in. "Besides, that's nothing to what you hid from me and what you're still hiding. And even Clark..."

Linda straightened. "Oh, so Mr. Scott Free finally gets a little of the..."

"Would you lower your voice?" Lois whispered, trying to sound forceful while doing it. Not an easy thing. "I told you we'd talk later."

"Me?" Linda hissed. "You're the one who started in on it again. I was only..."

"You've been haranguing me since we got out of the car and we're supposed to be going for stealth here, so just..."

"Shhh!" Linda bent back to the box. "I'm trying to concentrate."

Lois pursed her lips and resisting swatting the back of her cousin's head. If she hadn't been so mad, she might have told Linda everything... or not. To be honest, she could hardly remember the last time she had a long conversation with her cousin. She'd been buried in work with no time to think of herself for so many months. When she tried to think back, all she got was pain and a sort of half-finished movie in her head. Pieced together and sketchy at best. Her father, her mother, her childhood... All of it seemed wrong, like something from a dry book, full of facts with no pictures. And yet the pictures seemed so incomplete...

"Got it." She pulled herself back to the present as Linda straightened again. "Want to try our luck with a window?"

Lois looked at the darkened house. It wasn't any darker than before and there was only silence from inside, which only confirmed her suspicions. Marcy Proud was not home. She closed her eyes, praying to whatever deity watched over guys that played at being heroes that everyone was okay. "Yes," she finally whispered. "Let's try." She tried the one to her left. It didn't budge. She moved down, past Linda working at a small one she guessed led to a washroom.

"Jesus," Linda hissed. "Can't we just break one?"

"Not unless we have to." Lois tried a larger one near what seemed to be the bedroom. It did move. She grunted and lifted up, then stumbled backward, assaulted by the smell of stale urine and... worse.

Linda appeared beside her, propping her up. "What's the... Oh... Gross." They stood, staring at the darkened window. "I just thought of something bad... What if someone's home and someone's dead? Because I don't exactly have a strong stomach for these kinds of..."

"Oh, suck it up," Lois hissed, bracing herself as she moved to the window. "This might be my only chance at finding the who and why behind the what. I need this." It wasn't all about saving people sometimes. If this situation was beyond hope, then she'd be damned if she didn't have the story that would put the right people behind bars. She opened the window further and put her hands on the ledge. She hoisted her self up, nearly slipping when she felt Linda's hand on her butt, pushing her in. "Will you hold on a..." She fell in, trying not to get loud about it. Luckily for her, she landed on a pile of something soft. Unluckily, that soft thing seemed to be a pile of soiled bedding. She stood quickly. "Thanks a lot," she hissed as she saw Linda hoisting herself up.

"I was just being helpful," Linda grunted.

Lois rolled her eyes and pulled at Linda's arms. Lucky for Linda, she hopped in without help, landing on her feet, though unsteadily. Lois quickly held her tiny flashlight up. "What in the..." She trailed off, shining her light on piles of dishes, clothing, even little dark bits that she hoped were due to Marcy's Pomeranian. She shined the light around, strangely concerned about Foxy all of a sudden. She remembered the way he trailed after Marcy, leash-less and wandering. "Hope he's okay," she whispered.

"Hope who's okay?"

"Marcy's dog."

She felt Linda press to her side. "She has a dog?"

"Oh, he's just a tiny pomeranian."

"With tiny sharp teeth?" Linda hissed.

"Oh, grow up." She shined her light at the door. "We really should check the rest of the house before doing any serious digging."

"Okay. Whatever you say..."

Lois moved forward, not easy with Linda pressed to her side. If she thought the bedroom was an awful sight, it was nothing to the living area. Couch cushions were were strewn about, looking as if they'd been tossed, then chewed. Probably not all Foxy's work. Had the woman gone...

There was a clicking noise. Linda jumped against her and her keys dropped to the floor, along with her tiny flashlight. She stumbled, wincing at the crunch as the front door flew open, a bright light shining in her eyes.

"Stop right there."

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

Clark stopped at the wall. Bart arrived just after, following him, not as sure as Clark as to where they were going.

He looked through the wall, hoping for a better view. "It seems to be a large warehouse," he hissed into his headset.

"What's the address?" Victor asked, sounding nearly excited.

"I can't see a street number from where we are. It looks old." He glanced at a sign, dangling askew over a large door. "Buchan Paper," he read. It was faded, but there.

He heard Victor humming on the other end. "It was a paper mill once, but not now. It's been closed since the seventies. No record of who owns it now. Or, if there is one, it's not public record. Might have to do more digging. What's inside?"

Clark focused, tried to look farther beyond the walls of the building. "I can't see."

"What do you mean you can't see?" Ollie barked in his ear.

"I just can't."

Victor made that slight humming sound again. "Well, I guess we know why Buchan Paper bit the dust. Employee lawsuits due to prolonged lead paint exposure. If you're having vision trouble, it looks like they haven't exactly remodeled."

"And they're keeping people there?" Ollie nearly shouted. "What kind of monsters..."

"Pipe down, Arrow," Bart whispered, glancing up and down the wall. "You're hurting my ears. Besides, something doesn't measure up here," he said, turning silent and pensive.

Clark turned to him. It was rare that Bart was silent. "Meaning?"

"Well, I see the reasoning in using this place. If it was closed down due to toxic paint, then that's good for them if they're keeping something they don't want found. No one would go near. But keeping people here... It just doesn't make sense. They had to know what the place is." Bart shook his head.

Clark had the sudden, awful feeling that Bart was right. That they might find nothing more than dumpsters containing boxes, ready to be disposed of. And that thought was even more dispiriting. If they took these peoples' possessions only to destroy them, then what would they do with the people themselves?

"We have to get in, regardless," Clark said. The area surrounding the warehouse was dark. He grasped Bart around the middle. "No arguments," he said, lifting off.

They landed on the other side. Bart pushed away. "Of all the times for a hug..."

"Oh, shut up," Clark hissed. He glanced at the building again. He could see through the bricks to a point, but beyond was just... nothing. He looked to the high windows. Nothing but bare ceiling from there. "I hate this. I hate not knowing."

Bart shrugged. "Eh, welcome to my world. No advance peeks, just the thrill of surprise." Bart smiled. "Looks like we're snooping the old fashioned way, men."

"Excuse me?" It was Diana, sounding slightly miffed.

"And lady," Bart added. "You know, Wonderbread, you should take it as a compliment when I call you a boy." He rolled his eyes. "Feminists."

Diana growled. "One of these days, Flash..."

"Could we all focus?" Clark hissed, wondering when Victor had taken over his body. "We have to scope the place out."

Bart nodded. "You go right, I'll go left."

He was gone before Clark could actually agree. Clark hugged the wall and sped to the right, trying to keep his eyes peeled.

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

Lois stayed completely still, trying to look beyond the bright light. It only left spots in front of her eyes. "Hi, I'm sorry," she started. "I just happened to be passing by and noticed..."

"Lanie?" The light moved down, revealing its holder. "What do you think you're..."

Lois released a shaky breath. "Pammie... Hi."

She dropped the light further. "Or should I say Lois?"

"Listen, I know how this looks..."

Pammie strode forward, half-illuminated by her swinging flashlight. "It looks like you're breaking into a helpless woman's house when she's not home."

"Yes," Lois said quickly. "And I know why she's not home." Or did she? To be honest, she wasn't expecting the rat's nest she stumbled into. "Pammie, I know that Marcy's your neighbor and that this may be hard for you to hear, but..."

"Who's this?" Pammie shined the light at Linda. "Another reporter?"

"This is my cousin, Linda," Lois said lamely.

"Nice to meet you," Linda said, shakily. "Who is she?" she whispered to Lois

"I'm a friend," Pammie cut in. "Or I thought I was until I found out that she was nothing more than a..."

"Pammie, this has nothing to do with you," Lois found herself shouting. "It never did!" Pammie's flashlight stopped, fixed somewhere on her torso as she took a deep breath. "Listen, Marcy is involved in something bad," Lois went on, trying to keep focus where it belonged. "Pammie, you noticed it, too. She's been strange lately."

She saw Pammie's conflicted gaze even in the scant light.

"I'm just trying to find some answers," Lois said, hoping Pammie believed her. Despite what had happened, she hated to think that Pammie thought she was some kind of unethical tabloid journalist.

Pammie shook her head. "And you think you'll find them here?" Pammie let out a long breath and looked around her. "Marcy is a good woman. She would never... It's ridiculous to even suggest that she..."

"Then where is she?" Linda broke in. "I mean, obviously there's something fishy, judging by the look of this..."

"She's staying with me," Pammie said, shaking her head, looking at the mess. "I couldn't let her stay here alone anymore. Her mind's... It's gone," she finished, her eyes resting on Lois. "I've been meaning to get a service to clean this place." She looked around, her eyes sad. "To be honest, I can't stay long enough to find a thing in here, not her daughter's phone number or..."

"She's at your house?" Lois shook her head. "But this doesn't make any sense. I thought that..."

Pammie stared at her as she grew silent. "What?"

Lois took Pammie by the arm and moved toward the open door. The fresher air helped. It was hard to breathe in the house. "Pammie, I need to speak to her."

"Why? I don't understand. If you think Marcy's doing something illegal, then let me tell you..."

"Pammie, just admit it," Lois snapped. "Something stinks here."

"Yeah," Linda piped up behind her, pushing them out the door. "And she doesn't mean the house."

Lois shook her head, wishing Linda would pick a better moment for a joke. "I wasn't joking about these couples, Pammie. Mitzi's gone. Just moved away with no notice. That's five couples now." She took Pammie by the shoulders. "You have to believe that I'm trying to help."

Pammie stared at her hard, her face half-lit by the street lights. "Okay. I'll give you that something's wrong. But to suspect a poor soul like Marcy..."

"I don't suspect her," Lois said, suddenly realizing it was true. But her gut told her that Marcy was involved. She had to trust her gut. It was about the only thing she counted on anymore. "I just need to see her."

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

Clark stopped on the other side of the building, nearly running into Bart. "Watch it, Boyscout. Nearly gave me a..."

"What did you see?" Clark cut in, not in the mood for Bart's commentary. He'd seen nothing but an impenetrable building on his end and was feeling more than a little frustrated.

"No people," Bart whispered. "At least not out here. But I did see another thing that at least shows us we're on the right track." He paused. "Well, not that we know for sure, but it's something that..."

"Just spill it," Ollie groaned from the earpiece.

"EZ Move," Bart said, grinning slightly. "I saw the trucks. I mean, I was scared this was a fool's errand for a sec, but then I saw that..."

"But no people?" Victor asked quickly. "Are you sure..."

"Not outside," Bart said. "But we don't know about the rest of it." He patted Clark on the arm. "And since our seeing eye dog can't help us out, we're going to have to approach the building."

Clark nodded to Bart and both sped forward, stopping only just before the wall, hugging it slightly. They looked out at the empty lot, weeds sticking up through the asphalt. Bart was right. It didn't make sense. None of it did. Why keep people in a condemned building? If, as he suspected, they were performing illegal medical experiments, then why not somewhere more well appointed?

Clark listened hard at the wall. He couldn't see through lead, but nothing was stopping his ears. He waited for something, an incidental noise that would point to someone around. But there was nothing but a slight whirring. He looked up to the window. It was dark, but that didn't stop him. A camera, moving back and forth slowly. "There's some surveillance," he whispered. "I see it inside the building."

"Where?" Bart whispered next to him.

"Oh, turn on your night vision," Clark groaned.

"Yeah." It was AC now. "You keep flipping the damn thing off and..."

"These things itch," Bart hissed. "I'd like to see you try it, Fish Boy. I'm always the one who gets stuck with..."

"Shh!" Clark glanced up at the window again. "All the windows are high. I don't think the both of us can see inside."

"Well, I like that. What exactly are you trying to say, Boyscout? If you're implying that I'm dead weight..."

"Shut up," four voices hissed from other end.

"Boyscout," Victor hissed, his voice as hushed as either of theirs. Clark supposed it was just the mood taking over. "Can you fly up and get a look in?"

Clark nodded and pulled his goggles firmly over his eyes. "I'll try."

He rose up slowly, his eyes on that camera. It seemed fixed on the inside. He had no idea what the other side of the warehouse held. He only hoped the dark would cover him. He floated up to the bottom of the window and looked in, his spirits falling at what he saw. "Pods."

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

Lois followed Pammie into the house, Linda on her heels. Linda crowded closer to her as Foxy rushed forward, yapping loudly until Pammie bent down, patting his head.

"You'll have to be quiet," Pammie said. "The kids are asleep."

"Where's Mike?" Lois asked, hoping it didn't sound like a reporter's question. The trust between her and Pammie was fragile enough.

Pammie pursed her lips before answering. "He's in DC. He's doing his job. He's good at it, too, in case you..."

"Pammie, please. This was never about..."

"She's in here," Pammie said, ignoring her, leading them through the den to a door on the end. "It's my spare." She moved to the door, knocking twice. "Marcy? Sweetie? You have a visitor."

The door flew open and Marcy appeared, a whirl of gray hair and white cotton. "Is it Lizzie?" She shook something in her hand. "Because I need a refill. I can't breath without it, you know." Lois stared, aghast as Marcy rushed forward, then shrank back. "Who are they?"

"Well, that's Lanie," Pammie said, taking her hand. "You remember Lanie Cameron."

Marcy stared at Lois, her brows knit. She shook her head. "No." She shook the thing in her hand again. It was small and white and looked like an inhaler. "I can't breathe," she said again. But she didn't seem short of breath. "It's nearly gone. And Lizzie always brings me my medicine. I need it. She always says..." She trailed off, moving to the couch, folding her hands in her lap, still babbling to herself.

Lois could only stare. "What's happened to her?"

Pammie closed the door and leaned against it. "I don't know. I can't get a hold of Lizzie at all. She must have gone out of town. And that inhaler..." She shook her head. "She's breathing fine. Yet she keeps insisting she needs it. I... I don't know what to do. I shouldn't have her around the children in this state. I should call someone, but the idea of her in some awful psych ward..." She glanced at Marcy. "That's just not who she is."

Marcy suddenly leapt up, staring at Lois' purse. "Do you have it?"

Lois blinked at her. "Marcy, do you remember me? It's Lanie. I want to..." Marcy suddenly moved forward, grasping Lois' purse, turning it upside down. Lois stared in near horror as she knelt on the floor, sifting through the pile of makeup, papers, and the taser she'd taken from Linda.

Linda didn't fail to notice. "So you took my cell phone and my taser?"

"Marcy," Lois said, bending to the woman. "I don't have it. But you'll be fine."

Marcy nodded, her eyes watery. "I know. I still have some." She moved backward, falling to the couch. She pushed the inhaler to her mouth and pressed down, taking a long breath in. "And I need it, you know. I can't breathe without it."

Lois tried to smile reassuringly as she picked up the contents of her purse. But she didn't know what to make of this. Marcy seemed to have gone off the deep end. She found Pammie crouched next to her, gathering the things, picking up the taser with two fingers and a look of distaste.

"Well, I hope you're satisfied," she grunted. "If you want to go poking around, why don't you help me find out who to contact. I have no idea..." She stopped, unfolding a piece of paper from the floor. "What in the world..." She unfolded the packet containing Helen Bryce's picture. "Why on earth are you carrying around a picture of Darcy?"

Lois stopped, glancing from Pammie to the picture. "Darcy?"

"Yes, Darcy. Lizzie's niece."

Author's note: When I wrote this, I don't know if I ever filled everyone in, but here is Lizzie Albright:

http://smallville.wikia.com/wiki/Dr._Albright

When I developed her character, I gave her that first name the show never did and developed her a wee bit more. I wondered, at the time, if someone would look up her last name and all, but I guess I was subtle enough that no one did. Yay for me and all.

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Chapter Thirty-Three