"No. I didn't get it yet.... Well, she was mistaken. But I will. I've taken the steps necessary... Hmph. I'm sure you are, but I know what I'm doing... In fact, we should have two special deliveries by this evening... Yes. The last one. I promise. She's not as fresh as the others and she's a bit of a risk, but she'll come around. I mean, they'll be shocked at first. They all are, but she'll be on board... Well, what can I do? The natives are getting restless. We need to show them a success and soon. They're listless. They've lost weight. We can't have that. They can't handle the acceleration without more to burn... No. I told you. Stay where you are. We're fine."
**************************
It was a library this time. But it was a pitiful one. It seemed sort of crumbling and decrepit. And a paltry number of books graced it, all on high shelves. There was only one ladder, of course. And the girl was using it.
"Are you ever going to tell me who you are?"
"Probably not." The girl didn't look down. "But if you're the big shot reporter, you can probably figure it out."
Lois folded her arms and stared up at her. "So you have all the answers, huh? Mind sharing a few?"
"Me?" The girl snorted. "I just have what's left. There isn't much, but it could be enough if you knew how to use it?"
"Meaning?" She saw the girl's shoulders move in a shrug that seemed to mean nothing and everything and frustrated her all the more. Lois leaned against the base of the high ladder. "Do you happen to know a Pete?"
The girl didn't answer, just stood at the top of a rolling ladder, her back to Lois.
"Didn't you hear me?"
"I heard you." The girl turned back and smirked. "I just chose not to answer." she turned back. "Besides, if I answered, you'd choose not to hear."
"Okay, what does that mean?" The girl shrugged again. Lois groaned and moved around, trying to get a better look at her from below. "You know what's funny?"
"I don't know, a monkey with sunglasses?"
"No." She found herself giggling, and it echoed in the cavernous... room? Hall? How big was this place? The shelves seemed to go on forever, but they all seemed so empty. She looked up at the girl again. "You look like me. But so did she."
The girl stopped in her movements. "She meaning?"
Lois wanted to say, but it seemed so hard. That name seemed to always dangle from her mouth, but never fall. "Well, you know... her," she finally whispered.
The girl nodded. "You'd think that would tell you something." She turned back toward the shelves and plucked another book, wiping it carefully.
She couldn't reply to that cryptic comment. The girl's hands were distracting her. "What are you doing, anyway?"
"Just taking care of what's left." She turned and looked down, her lips curling downward. "Someone has to."
"What do you mean by that?"
The girl snorted. "If you don't know, then I can't tell you."
She looked up at one of the books. It was very high, but she could make out something on the side. It was a symbol, like the ones in the cave. "Can I see that one?"
"Gosh, I'm sorry. That one's just not available for general viewing. Besides, you wouldn't get it."
"Are you just trying to be rude?"
The girl sighed and sat, perching at the top of the ladder. "No. Just honest. That's like handing you the last chapter of a mystery. How can you learn anything if you don't know what came before?"
Lois stood straighter, straining her eyes. "Fine, then. Can I see anything?"
"You know what?" The girl stood and turned away again, to her books. "I'd give you anything I had, but you won't give me what I need."
Lois stomped her foot. It echoed all around them. "Then what do you need?"
"You know what I need."
"How would I know? That doesn't make any sense."
"Only to you." The girl stared down again, her eyes hard. "Because you won't admit..."
"What?" Lois shot up in bed.
"Huh? What? What happened?"
She glanced next to her. Clark was sitting up straight, his eyes darting everywhere before landing on her. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing. Just this girl that..." What? Taunts me in my dreams? "It's nothing, Clark. Just a dream." He was nearly soaked with sweat. And his breath seemed labored. "Come on. Lay back down. I'm fine. It's you we need to worry about." She pushed at him slightly and he laid back down, settling on his side. He closed his eyes, then opened them again.
"I like waking up with you," he murmured. "We never did enough of that."
She smiled. He was slightly inane, but she'd indulge him. "Cut us some slack. I think we only fell asleep together twice."
"Nah, it was my fault. I just never saw it till it was too late."
"Is that so?"
He yawned, closing his eyes. "Then I kept thinking I couldn't have you, not really."
"Less babbling, more sleeping." He seemed to obey, his chest rising and falling evenly. She sighed and glanced at the clock. It was nearly eleven. She was supposed to meet Pammie for lunch today. She wondered if she wanted to risk leaving Clark. She laid her head down. As pathetic as it was, she didn't want to. She'd rather stay here, watch his chest rise with each breath, watch what sunlight the blinds let in hit his cheek in patchy lines. In this moment, he seemed so young to her. She could nearly see him that way now. Just a kid with a mop of hair and a goofy smile. The idea made her smile. It made her... She found the pillow under her cheek wet. She brought a hand to her eyes.
Crying? Why?
She scrambled backward, untangling herself from the blankets and moving off the bed so quickly, she found the wall at her back.
"Why?" she whispered. He stirred slightly and she moved into the master bath. She closed the door and leaned her forehead against it. "Jesus! What is this?" So many feelings... Too many feelings... Shivers ran from her neck to her spine, moving outward to her limbs and extremities. She nearly ached with... what? She locked the door and filled the tub with hot water. She had to calm down.
Steam rose around her. The water was nearly too hot to sit in, but she did, feeling it seep into her skin, cover her face with perspiration. She could still taste tears. "What the hell?" she whispered to the empty room.
Maybe she was just worried about Clark. Maybe it wasn't Clark. Maybe it was the dream. It had been a strange one, just like the one before. The stupid girl just kept with her cryptic talk and her stony silences. She scrubbed hard at her arms and chest. Maybe she just needed to focus, just like she'd decided. Clark would be fine for an hour. She'd meet with Pammie.
She came out of the bathroom in her robe, creeping around the room, trying to gather some clothes. She was not going to run around dressing in front of him, after all. She was just grabbing her shoes when she felt his eyes on her. Hard to explain, really, but as soon as she turned around, there they were. Open, if slightly tired. "Hey," she said, grasping her stuff in front of the closure in her robe. She suddenly felt awkward.
"Hey," he croaked back.
"I have to go meet Pammie for lunch. I mean, I promised, so I should and I figure I'll be back in under two hours and you can call my cell if you..."
"Lois, I'm fine." He sat up, grunting a little.
"You're sure?"
"I'll just lay in the sun or something."
She stopped, tilting her head. "Clark, it's freezing out. Even if there's sun, you could make yourself..."
"I need the sun," he cut in, pushing himself to the side of the bed. "It might be the only thing that knocks this out of me."
"What?"
He stared at her, his eyes seemed sad all of a sudden. "We can talk later," he said, looking down. "About a lot of things."
"Well..." She laughed slightly. "There's an understatement."
He smiled, then his lips made a downturn. "Check under your car before you go anywhere. Someone's on to us."
She nodded. "Guess you finally agree with me on that then."
"But Lois..." His eyes were dead serious. "I wouldn't rule out Pammie."
"What? Clark, sometimes you just know a person and Pammie is..."
"It's nothing against her," he cut in quickly, stopping to breathe. "I wouldn't rule out anyone. I... I can't think today. I can't do anything. If something happens to you, I'm as helpless as... any other man." He pursed his lips. "Maybe even more so."
She shook her head. "Clark, I can take two hours until we figure this out." She shrugged. "I have survived my entire life so far with no aid from one Clark Kent."
************************
He watched the bathroom door close before he said it. "No, you didn't," he said sadly. The closer they got now, in her new life, the more it killed him. He wanted her back whole, but not just for him. He wanted her to know what she should know. How could she protect herself if she didn't know what to look out for? She'd strayed into Luthor's path too many times. She'd been to Smallville. And all along, he could hardly do more than a stranger would for her because what right did he have? He laid back again. The chore of sitting up suddenly too much. What right did he have, anyway? He'd pushed her away so many times that it finally stuck. And now he'd pushed his way back. He had no right.
But he had no choice, either.
He forced himself to sit, then stand, every breath agony. He'd never been sick like this. This was worse than what he'd picked up in the Phantom Zone. It affected every movement, every thought... He coughed, spasms wracking his chest. Every breath.
He'd only been sick this way once before. Except... It didn't make sense. He hadn't been digging up the garden. And this was Metropolis, not Smallville. The likelihood of spores containing kryptonite invading his body was slim. Still... He could have picked it up somehow. Maybe in Smallville. Someone digging up their fields as he flew overhead. He could always fly over to Doctor Takamoto and... He winced as he stepped into his own, childishly painted room. Who was he kidding? He could barely walk, let alone fly.
"Sun," he muttered. "Just need the sun." He didn't bother with clothes, just stumbled to the kitchen and to the door. The fence was high. The neighbors wouldn't see the guy in his underwear trying to sunbathe in the winter... he hoped. He sank onto a cold lounge chair, shivering at the feel of it. He wouldn't feel the cold soon. He'd be back to normal. The sun...
*************************
Lois stepped out, seeing the empty covers. She really hoped he wasn't going to try to tax himself today. She stepped hesitantly out of the bedroom, calling his name. She was beginning to think he'd tried to leave, then she saw him, through the kitchen window. The man was actually lying on a chaise in the yard in the winter. "Clark," she groaned, moving to the kitchen door and pulling it open. "What are you doing? You'll freeze to death."
"I don't freeze," he said around his chattering teeth.
"You do today, apparently." She pulled at his arm and he got up. He was in his bare feet, nothing but boxers on. "Whatever this is, you're not up to... whatever you're usually up to," she finished, pulling him toward the door. He was right. They did need a long talk. How could she take care of him when she hardly knew how?
"I don't think I told you since the..." he trailed off, teeth still chattering. "I need the sun. It's the only thing that heals since I destroyed the ship and..."
"Clark, I want to know these things. I'm sure I need to know these things, but you can tell me inside." She pulled him inside, moving toward his room. "I can open some blinds, okay? You can get the sun without the accompanying frostbite. Sound good?"
He didn't answer, just shivered at her side. "I can't be sick," he said instead. "There's no time."
"I understand completely. I hate getting sick, too."
"But Lois, what if something happens and there's no one else and I'm too sick to..."
"Clark, you can't sit here freaking out over what you can't change." She pulled a sweatsuit from the drawers. "We'll put our heads together when I get back, but I need to know you're not going to do something stupid in your condition." She pulled him to face her. "Can't you just lay down for an hour or two? The world won't end. I promise."
He hesitated, but finally nodded. He also let her help him into the sweats, but with a pained look. "I don't like feeling helpless."
"Well, now you have a taste of what the rest of the world goes through with the flu." She pulled the shirt down over his stomach with some reluctance. If he wasn't sick, this might be considered a test of her willpower. As it was, she was too worried to feel tempted... much. "You get back in bed and I'll open every blind in the place for you." She put both hands on his back and pushed him toward her room.
"God, how did we ever get here?" He fell forward slightly.
"Okay, Big Boy." She pulled up close to his side. "Let's aim for the bed if you're going to do that."
"This whole damned ting would be so different if you were yourself and I were myself and we'd be out of here in two days."
"So..." She helped him into bed, then nodded. "Okay. I'm not going." He was getting worse. He wasn't even making sense anymore.
Clark looked up at her, his eyes clearing. he shook his head. "No. Go on. It's only an hour or two. I'll just sleep. I'll be fine."
She perched a hip next to him. "And you won't go outside? Because I don't care if Publisher's Clearing House rings the bell..."
He laughed slightly, then coughed. "I promise." He closed his eyes. "Is that thing even around anymore?"
"I don't know." She moved to the blinds and began opening them. She glanced at him. His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell rather roughly. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"
He opened his eyes, smiling just a bit. "Sure. We've got through worse."
She stared, trying to return his smile. Poor, nutty babbler. "When I get back, we're calling your doctor."
"Yeah, we should say hi. Murray's good people..."
She watched him drop off on that thought, not sure whether to laugh or cry. She wasn't sure what she was feeling. Was it just hard to see him vulnerable, especially knowing what he was? Or was it more? Was she getting too attached? She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep it together. She still had a story. She was past being late for lunch with Pammie. She took one last look at him and let herself out of the room. She had to leave now or she never would.
She rushed toward the front door, grasping her purse from the side table, but stopped, seeing a possible hindrance through the window. "Mitzi," she hissed. The woman would chat for a year if she had her way. She moved toward the kitchen and headed out that door. She could get out the gate while Mitzi rang the bell and make a beeline for the car and... She stopped, sighing, her hand on the latch. The damned ringing would wake Clark. She squared her shoulders, adjusted her purse, and pulled the gate open. "Mitzi?" she called out, rushing toward the front of the house. "Good morning. You know, I'd love to chat, but I have an appointment and I'm already late and..."
"Oh, Sweetie. This won't take but a minute. You know how you and Kent are having these little troubles. Well, did you ever hear of a pro..."
"Oh, no!" Lois gasped, staring at her watch. "I only have five minutes to get there. Gosh, I hope the lunch rush isn't too bad." She moved toward the car, turning back to wave. "We'll have to chat later."
"Oh, well... Some other time, then." Mitzi smiled, but it seemed tight. "I guess it wasn't important."
Lois watched her leave. She didn't want everyone in the neighborhood thinking she was a bitch. "I'll see you later," she called out.
"I guess so," Mitzi called out, not turning.
Lois rolled her eyes and opened her car. She'd have to stop by with a bottle of wine later. She stopped before getting in. Thinking of what Clark had said, not all of which was nonsense, she bent over, checking for anything resembling a puddle. It seemed fairly clean, as far as streets went. She looked further behind and saw the other spot, the one Clark had talked about. From what he said, it seemed Dodie pointed him to it. She got in, smirking. Ten to one, she did it in the form of a complaint.
She drove toward the outer gates, glancing at all the boring little houses. She hated this place. The only enjoyable moments had been spent with Pammie... Well, not counting those extremely enjoyable moments with Clark. She supposed that's why she'd been so affronted by Clark saying to watch out for Pammie. It might break her heart to find that Pammie was in any way involved. Still, she had to watch out, didn't she? Whatever game they'd tried to play, someone had caught on. Her brakes, her missing license. The worst part was that she was beginning to fear Clark's sickness was not just an unfortunate coincidence. If someone knew how to make him sick, then it was all too possible that someone knew that Clark was not only not Kent Cameron, but not quite ordinary.
These troubling thoughts kept her company into the city, still plaguing her when she pulled up to a meter down the block from the tiny storefront cafe that was La Salette. She passed a narrow alleyway on her way to the door. She'd never had the chance to eat here, but the place seemed familiar somehow. She stopped to stare down the alleyway as a portly man carried a white bucket out, turning it over before sitting on it, digging a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He sat down, then looked her way, leering slightly. She quickly moved on toward the main entrance, letting her thoughts drift back to Clark. Whoever had done this to him, the most important thing was getting him well. They could figure the rest out later if they...
"Just one?"
She started, staring at the young man behind the small podium. "Um... No. I'm meeting someone."
"Oh, we have a few people waiting for their lunch mates." He smiled. "The name, please?"
"Violet."
He glanced down. "Hmm. we don't have a Violet expecting anyone. Perhaps she hasn't arrived yet. I can..."
"I'm sorry. I don't know where that name came from." She laughed slightly. "I meant to say Pammie... or Pamela?"
The young man nodded. "Right this way." He led her toward the back as she mentally shook herself. She didn't even know a Violet. Perhaps she saw something purple and the color just popped right out of her mouth, though she'd usually call purple purple, she could be... "Here we are."
"Thank you," she said to the young man, spying Pammie's back a few feet away. She was tapping her fingers on the table. Lois hoped she wasn't angry about the lateness. She could make up something. She took a deep breath and rushed forward. "Hi," she said, trying for breathlessness. "I'm so sorry I'm late. I was just swamped at work." She hung her purse on her chair and sat down.
"I'm sure you were." Pammie smiled, but it seemed a little cold. "Bet you have a lot to work with."
"Well, year-end's coming so..." Lois smiled and picked up her menu. "I am sorry I'm late."
"I'm sure you are. This is probably a big treat for you."
"Well, I... Don't get to eat gourmet every day, so... I guess you're right." She opened her menu. "What looks good?"
"God, I can't do this." Pammie slapped her menu down. "I can't just pretend..."
Lois let hers fall to the table and stared as Pammie trailed off, looking down. "Pammie, is something wrong? At your doctor's..."
Pammie looked up sharply. "Oh, please. Let's just drop this charade right now... Miss Lane."
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