Lois tried to smile. "Miss Lane? Is that like my new nickname?"
Pammie stared coldly back. "Oh, no. That's Lois, right? Kent's little pet name for you. What's his pet name? I only know yours, really, but..."
"Pammie, I..." Lois sighed. "How did you find out?"
"Oh, just dumb luck. The kids and I were doing papier mache, just using old newspapers. Came across that story on the mayor's sex scandal. I remember following it. I guess that's why your name just jumped out at me." she lifted her chin. "Of course, then I just had to see The Daily Planet's website. The staff page, in particular." She looked Lois over in a way she never had. "I'm impressed. Usually, a girl with your looks will try to get straight to the source, cozy up to my husband. You're not the first reporter to try to get something on Mikey. But no one ever has. Because there is nothing," she said firmly. She gestured to Lois. "But you must be good. You knew exactly where to go for the dirt. I mean, Mikey's always been a saint, but me..." She shook her head. "I guess I am impressed. No one's ever really looked at me. Just a mousy little wife. Nothing much. Not someone you'd think would be..."
"Pammie, stop. Whatever you think is going on, you're wrong. I'm not here for..."
"You know, I only came today to see if I could appeal to some kind of humanity in you. Whatever I did, it has... almost nothing to do with my husband."
"Pammie, I don't want to know. I wasn't even looking for anything on you. I'm not here to hurt you."
"Oh, you're one of those? The truth shall set you free types? I don't need any sanctimonious..."
"Will you just listen?"
"No." Pammie gathered her purse. "You listen. You try to print one word and I will sue you for libel. I don't care if it's gospel truth. Some things are nobody's business."
Lois sat frozen as she stormed away. It took her a moment to move. She finally caught up to her on the street. "Pammie, wait! you have the wrong idea."
"Oh, so I'm wrong?" Pammie didn't look back, just kept walking. "You really are Lanie Cameron, bank manager?"
"Well... Okay, that part was a lie. But I was never checking up on you. I'm trying to protect you."
Pammie stopped and turned. "Protect me from what?"
"I... I don't know if I can say. Suffice it to say that there is someone in that community who's there for the wrong reasons."
"Yes. You."
"Pammie, please just..."
"The worst part was that I... I thought that just once, someone just wanted to be my friend. Not because of who my husband is or..."
"Pammie..." Lois touched her arm tentatively. "I am your friend. It's all I wanted. But I also needed to protect you." She didn't want to frighten anyone in the community. It was part of the deal that had them staying there, but... This was down to the wire. "I can't say too much, but... Pammie, four couples have disappeared in these last six months. Just up and moved, including your friend Janice. They left with no reason or explanation."
Pammie turned on her heel. "Well, I hope you join them."
Lois could only watch her leave now. Pammie would realize soon enough that there would be no expose on... whatever it was she seemed to be afraid of. But how could she protect someone who wouldn't let her near?
*************************
Clark wasn't sure if it was a dream or not. In dreams, he could usually see. But there was nothing in front of his eyes. And there was a taste in his mouth. Like cotton. It felt nearly as if he was eating the darned pillow case. He tried to move, but something held him. And there was a voice.
"Just relax, Clark. This will only hurt for a minute."
A woman. He drifted slightly, thinking of Lois. Did she send him to the hospital? She should know better. Someone would find out. He tried to move again. "Hold still, damn it." He felt it then, a hand on the back of his head, pressing hard. "Got to find a vein..."
He wanted to scream out. He didn't want her to find a vein. If she found a vein, he'd be in a lab somewhere, looked at through glass, kept low with kryptonite. It would be everything his parents had always feared. "Please... No..." At least that was what he tried to say. All he heard was muffled groaning.
"Relax." The hand on his head softened, rubbed lightly. "I won't tell if you won't, Guy. Just stay still..."
He felt a pressure on his arm, as if it was being squeezed hard, then a new pressure, just in the crook of his arm. It didn't hurt so much, but it felt invasive, draining... sickening. He felt bile rise up in his throat and he choked slightly.
"Almost done."
Almost done what?
"There. I'm almost glad you showed up here, Clark." The pressure left his arm and he felt his entire body soften with the relief. He felt something on the side of his face. He opened one eye and saw something swim before it. It seemed like... hair. A dark curl. He heard a voice in his ear. "I hope you get better, really. But why don't you two leave now?" A hand smoothed over his back. "I can do worse, you know."
He thought he knew the voice. It seemed like something from so long ago. He tried to turn, but he felt something on his head again. It was hard this time and painful and the world went black.
***************************
Lois drove home, feeling as if the wheels of her car were trudging reluctantly onward. Everything was so bleak. Clark was sick, Pammie hated her, and she still didn't get to eat fancy gourmet food. She hoped there was soup in the house. It wasn't so much for her. She was still worried about Clark. She wanted him eating. She wondered what the odds were that she'd walk in and find him up and about, completely well. It was about the only thing that could save this day.
When she pulled in front of the house, she recieved a part of her wish. Clark was definitely up and about. He was stumbling down the walk. But he wasn't well. He was sweaty and disheveled. She quickly shifted into park and cut the engine, leaving her car sloppily parked at the curb. She got out quickly and ran to him. "What are you doing?"
He pulled away from her, but she grasped his neck and one arm. "She was here. She took it. She'll put it under a microscope..."
"Clark, calm down. We can talk about this inside..." She trailed off, letting out a high-pitched gasp. There was blood on her hand. She felt the back of his head. It wasn't sweat. "You're bleeding."
"Yes." His eyes were wild, frightened. "And she has it. We have to get it back."
"Okay, okay..." She pushed him up the walk. "We'll do that, Clark. But we have to get you inside." He wasn't only bleeding, he was nearly scalding to touch. Her hands felt raw where they gripped him, even through his clothes.
"What are they gonna do to me?"
She gripped him by the shoulders. "No one's doing anything to you, Clark. Except me. I'm going to get you into the tub, okay? You're burning up."
"But you don't get it. They'll..."
"Please," she said, nearly crying now. "Please just... come inside. You're scaring me."
His eyes seemed to lose their wild look. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "I didn't mean to... I'd never want to..."
"I need you to focus. I need you to come in and get in the tub."
"Okay." He nodded and took her hand, almost like a child. She led him inside, kicking the door shut behind her. She took him straight back to the bathroom and turned the cold tap as far as it would go.
"Come on, Clark. We need to get your fever down." He didn't say anything, just stood staring off as she began to peel off his clothes. "Just get in while it fills up and... God! Do I even have a thermometer?"
"Won't work," he croaked. "Explodes."
"Uh... Okay. We'll just get in, then. There we go..." She helped him step over and tried to lower him down slowly. Considering he was twice her size, none of it was easy. That final move down splashed over the side and soaked her shirt.
"Hey." Clark gestured to her, a woozy smile on his lips. "Wet T-shirt contest. Cool."
She laughed slightly. He was delirious, but he was still half-normal. "Very cool. Freezing, in fact and... Hey!" She caught the back of his head as he leaned back a little fast. "Easy now. We don't want another wound here." She moved to the side of the tub and felt around his head. There was a lump, but it didn't seem to be bleeding badly. Still, it was best to keep him alert in case aliens could be concussed. "Did you fall down?"
"No," she heard softly. "Damn woman hit me. Just whap! Right on the back of the head."
"Well..." She wasn't sure if it was the fever talking or what. Right now a standing lamp might look a lot like a woman to Clark. She squirmed slightly, feeling the cold through her wet clothes. She glanced at the tub. it wasn't even half full thanks to the awful water pressure in this pricey upscale community. She moved to face him again. "Can you stay here a second, Clark? I'm just going to change. I'll be right back."
"Sure thing," he said, his head lolling backward.
"I'm going to keep talking. I don't want you to go to sleep, Clark. Hear me?"
"Too damn cold to sleep in here. I hate this bed."
She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but she probably only managed a twitch of the lips. She was too damned scared. He was seeing things now. She moved toward the bedroom, discarding her clothes as she went. She grasped her bathrobe from the master bath and shrugged into it, trying not to freak out when she could hardly find the damned sash. This was no time to freak out. She had to get Clark's fever down to... something that human hands could touch. Then she had to call his mother and find out what the heck she was supposed to do when her alien son got sick. Then she should probably scour Clark's cell phone and find out which was Takamoto's number. Then she should... She saw it then. It was a tacky imitation of a Dresden shepherdess. It had been sitting on her night stand since she'd moved in. She'd never moved it, just turned it away so it wouldn't stare at her.
It was on the floor now, facing down with something red... "Oh, my God!" She picked it up. Blood. Clark's blood. She'd thought he must have stumbled and hit his head, but unless Clark went around braining himself with tiny statues, he was right. Someone had hit him. "Clark!"
"I'm up," she heard from the bathroom. She rushed in to find him trying to get out, his arms straining.
"No." She rushed forward and pushed him down. "Just stay there, Clark. You need to..." Her hand splashed into the water. It was damned near warm. He'd only been in it three minutes. "Okay. Calm down. We're fine."
Clark laid back and closed his eyes. "Totally fine."
"We're gonna drain the water and get some... Oh, hell!" She pulled the drain and turned on the shower. At least that could stay cold for a second before it rolled off him. "Wait here." She paced to the kitchen, muttering to herself. "Great. Just great." Clark had some kind of alien fever and now she was positive he'd been attacked. People didn't just artfully fall onto ugly shepherdesses, not without breaking the things, at least. She picked up the phone and dialled the one number she absolutely knew from memory. "Metropolis Pizza," a perky female voice sang. "Would you like to hear about our..."
"No, thanks. I just want a large pepperoni pizza, five gelatos, and... uh... about six bags of ice."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Ma'am. We don't sell ice, but I can get you those..."
"Listen, if you can get your driver to stop by a gas station and get me all the ice they have, you can charge me whatever you want."
"Um... I guess so."
"Great." Lois rattled off the address before hanging up, nearly satisfied. She'd done something. No freaking out, here. No, sir.
*************************************
Lois shelled out sixty bucks to the pimply boy in front of her. She'd never paid this much for an order, but she'd do it again. She even tossed him an extra ten. "Thanks, Ma'am," he said before loping away. Of course, with that tip, he could have called her Miss, but she couldn't complain. She grabbed two of the eight bags of ice on her doorstep and hauled them to the bathroom.
She moved back to the bathroom to find Clark huddled away from the spray. "Clark," she sighed. "You should be staying under."
"It feels so cold."
"That's because you're too warm. And you're going to hate me in a second." She turned off the spray and he seemed to relax.
"I'd never hate you," he said.
She glanced up. He seemed so... earnest. It was so darned... She shook her head. It was sweet and she loved it and she just couldn't deny it any more. "Promise?"
He smiled. "Pinky swear." He started to hold up a hand, but seemed to give up as it flopped into the empty tub beside him.
She sighed. "I'll hold you to that." She plugged the drain and ripped open the first bag. "Now, you hold still." She let the bag empty in as he yelped. "You're fine. You'll be fine. We need to get that fever down, Clark. I know it feels cold, but we have no choice."
He nodded, shivering, and she poured the second bag in. She rushed out for the next two. He glanced at her when she came back, ripping those open as well. "I'm not crazy," he said after a moment.
"I know." She rushed back out for more, already seeing the solidity vanish in the tub.
"Someone was here," he said, teeth chattering as she came back in.
"I know, Clark." She rushed out again for the last two. She managed to grab the food this time as she kicked the door shut. Once the tub was filled, she knelt at the side. "I saw the statue."
"What?"
"Someone hit you with that statue on the nightstand." She grabbed a piece of ice and ran it over his forehead. He shrank away slightly.
"It was a woman. She talked to me. I think... I think I know her." He shivered slightly. "She knows my name."
Lois closed her eyes. "Okay. That's not the end of the world. We knew someone was onto us. We're just going to have to..."
"She knows more than my name," he said, shaking.
"I doubt it, Clark. If she did, she would have known that hitting you would normally do nothing..."
"No. She knows." He held out his arm. There was some bruising in the crook.
She ran her hand over it. "What did she..."
"She took my blood. Mine, of all people. No one would go to this kind of trouble with... whatever was done to me unless they knew."
Lois could only stare, horrified. She hadn't been this scared about her brakes. If someone knew what Clark was, then they also knew what he did for this city, what he could do for the world. The idea of someone wanting to destroy that or exploit it was sickening. She patted his arm, relieved to find it closer to warm. "At least you're more lucid now. We can fix you up, Clark. Then we'll knock this story out in no time."
"Yeah?" He glanced at her, his eyes hopeful? "Did you find something?"
She nearly laughed. "Oh, hell no. I'm just being optimistic. In fact, I lost a friend today." She looked up toward the bathroom window. It was getting dark now... well, there was an understatement.
"You what?"
She tried to smile. "Your statue wielding friend isn't the only one who knows about us. Pammie knows."
Clark looked like he wanted to stand. She placed her hand on his arm and he quieted. "What happened? Is she with them? Is she..."
Lois shook her head. "Nothing like that. She just thinks I'm a sleazy reporter trying to dig up dirt on her. So, not great. But it could be worse. She could hate my guts... Oh, wait. She does." She heaved a sigh, opened a gelato and handed it to him, digging in the bag for a spoon. "Come on. Eat your yummy dessert."
Clark glanced at the pizza box. "What about dinner?"
"We'll see about that if you eat your dessert like a good boy." Lois opened the box and dug out a slice, biting into it.
Clark didn't take his eyes off her. "You're cruel."
She smiled. "At least you're lucid enough to know it." She gestured to the gelato. "Clark, just eat it. I want your fever down yesterday. You can have some pizza when I'm sure you'll live."
He shivered again, but took a large spoonful. "Mmmmm."
She snorted. "That good, huh?"
"Much better than hot, cheesy pizza. Feel like trading?"
She smiled and shook her head. He seemed clear, though. Clearer than he'd been. Now would be the best time to get a leg up on this sickness. "So do you think it's a virus?"
He shook his head, matching the rest of him. "That came and went. This is different. It's like an infection. I can feel it. It's like... I can get relief, like now, but it doesn't go away."
"So... We just buy up all the ice in the city and you can live in here."
He shuddered. "God, no." His face turned serious. "I can't let it keep going through me. I don't think I can fight it." He held a hand out to her. "Lois..."
"No." She stood up, dropping her pizza. "Do not give me some in case I die speech, Clark, or I'll bean you with that statue, too."
"I just need to..."
She moved forward and covered his mouth. "No. We'll figure this out. We'll call Takamoto or your mom or anyone who can..."
He pulled her hand away and held it. "There are things you need to know. Things about you and me and... us." He gripped her hand tighter. "I believe in you. I think... No. I know you can handle it. It won't be like Moira."
She felt this sudden flash of panic and... longing? That was the only word to describe her reaction to that name. "Your ice is melting. I can try the Thai place and see if..."
"Lois, I need to know that you can handle yourself. I need you to know..."
The doorbell rang and she pulled away. "I'll get it," she said dully. She wasn't sure how to feel. There was something so scary, yet inevitable here and she both stretched to it and recoiled away. "I'll be right back. I'll just..." She trailed off and escaped out the doorway, moving toward the front door. She felt as if she were moving through water, languid, yet determined to keep forward. Something was happening here. She could hardly explain it. It was like being on the tail of a great story, one that was a sure thing. Something...
The ringing grew more insistent. She adjusted her robe and cracked the door. What she saw there was like a splash of cold water to rival what Clark was sitting in. "Linda?"
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