Almost Whole (Chapter Eight)

"By tomorrow morning?" Lois repeated. "Perry, we really can't expect everyone to be ready today."

"So my Sunday front page won't even be ready until Saturday night?" Perry huffed furiously on a smokeless cigarette, then smacked his lips together, grimacing. "Tastes like plastic. I don't know what Alice is thinking. Doesn't even compare to the real thing. What the hell will they think of next? Of all the ridiculous..."

"Perry, about the story..." Lois cut in, hoping to keep this meeting on task. "They've been through an ordeal and maybe they need some warning before reliving it through..."

"Oh, come on," he groaned. "It'll be like therapy. They can talk it out and I get my layout ready quicker and everyone wins." He stared at the smokeless cigarette again. "Pleasing vapor, they say. I'll be the judge of that."

"Perry," she said cautiously, "We have their verbal agreement, but we shouldn't take advantage of that unless we know they're ready to..."

"Great Caesar's ghost! Why can't I just do what I want to do?" Perry snapped, pitching the plastic stick into the trash can. "I want to smoke and eat donuts and not cut the fat off my steak, for crying out loud!"

Lois rubbed her eyes beneath her sunglasses and hoped he'd finish this tangential tirade soon. She had little enough time to herself as it was and was hoping to just get some, maybe even without Linda. After about four hours sleep in a bed nearly taken over by a pregnant cousin who flopped around like a fish out of water, preceded by some heavy drinking with a senator's wife and the confirmation that she was most definitely not who she thought she was, she felt like she was about to explode. She'd already snapped at Clark. She'd even snapped at Doris when she tried to fix her hair. She didn't care how she looked. She didn't care about anything. She'd very nearly stopped caring about this story, except to the point of getting it done. Maybe she'd take a week off then. She could figure out exactly what she'd do and...

"..and now I'm not supposed to have trans fat," Perry was growling. "And that's not just Alice. Oh, no. Apparently, they're thinking of a statewide ban and, tell me Lane, what do you think a donut or a pie crust is gonna taste like after that?"

He was staring hard at her and she straightened. "Um..."

"Like crap, that's what." He paced to the window. "And now I have to hold the front page and..."

"Not for long, Mr. White."

Lois turned to see Clark in the doorway, pushing his glasses up his nose slightly.

"About time you showed up, Kent."

"Sorry." He closed the door behind him. "I stayed behind to talk with the doctor and..."

"What's all this idiocy about tomorrow? If they're as deprogrammed as they're going to get, then I want this done and..."

"That was my fault," Clark broke in, sitting in the chair next to Lois. "I... insisted on it."

She turned to him slightly. He didn't exactly insist on it. They'd both silently agreed it was reasonable to give them fair warning, but... Was he going to actually take the brunt of Perry's tirade? She suddenly felt like the worst kind of bitch. No matter what she needed to get clear on him, there was something about him that was so... damned polite.

He threw her a glance before he went on. "I... uh... I thought it would be best if we waited and got clear on everything. Just to be safe. They've been through a lot and might need some time to go over it all for themselves so we get a... clearer picture."

Lois nearly snorted. Well, she'd said nearly the same thing and Perry wasn't close to accepting it. Still, it was sweet of him to try. She braced herself for Perry's explosion. It would have something to do with waiting long enough and what the hell was he supposed to do, just twiddle his thumbs until...

"Good thinking, Kent," he grunted.

Lois' eyes widened behind her dark glasses. So... Clark says the exact same thing and he's the golden boy? Maybe she should just hand him the story. It was childish and petty to even think it, not to mention career suicide. She'd worked as hard for this as he had.

"In fact, if the two of you can get your questions worked out, then you can split them all in half and get this done in half the time. I want copy of all your questions by six and I'll add my own changes by nine." Perry glanced at them. "Then maybe you two can get some sleep. You look like crap."

Lois stood, smirking with smug satisfaction that she wasn't the only one getting that observation today. Now she was just a childish bitch with messy hair who snapped at everyone while Clark just sailed around with his Dudley Do Right mojo and charmed the world. No wonder he was Superman.

She pushed past Clark and through the door, kicking herself again. She even hated her resentment of them, all of them. Because they might just be doing exactly what they should and, more than that, they were God damned superheroes. Who was she to resent people like that? Who was she, period?

And that was the problem. Whoever she was, did she even want to know? She could just embrace this life and try to ignore all the guilt of what she must have done. Never examine it or why she'd done it. Did she have to do it? Or was it some sort of opportunistic action, cashing in on the death of a loved one to gain her freedom, then selfishly wiping that loved one away so she could...

"Lois?"

She glanced up, realizing she was seated at her desk as if on autopilot.

"Call for you on line two," Doris said, a bit shirtily. "They didn't have your direct number. Are you here?"

"Of course I'm here. I'm... here, aren't I?"

"No need to get snippy... again," Doris said with a lifted chin.

Lois sighed. "Listen, Doris, I'm sorry. I'm just a little..."

"Line two," Doris cut in, turning away.

Lois growled deep in her throat and pushed a button on her phone. "Yes? Lane, here?"

"Miss... Lane?"

She rolled her eyes, feeling she'd just established that. "Yes?"

"It's Luthor."

"Oh... Uh... Hello." She straightened slightly and glanced back at Clark's desk. "I can't exactly talk right now, but I hope you received our message. I assure you that nothing negative should come from the story and we will make it absolutely clear that..."

"I need to see you."

Lois furrowed her brow. He sounded strange, nearly choked. "Well, I really can't..."

"It needs to be today. I can... I can send a jet, if need be. I need..." She heard him take a deep breath. "I think it would be best if I saw you... by noon, but not before," he finished on a grunt.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," she said quietly. "I need to finish this story and..."

"Don't give me that," he cut in, voice low and hard. "I'm sorry. I... If I could just see you, then I know... I only need to consult with you more fully on what will be written and..."

There was something about his tone that was making her skin crawl. She'd felt it with him before. "I believe it was gone over with your PR department and if you have any further questions..."

"I'm only asking for a fucking hour," his voice suddenly growled.

She stared ahead of her, trembling slightly. "Like I said, I'm not available." She hung up and pulled her hand away from the phone as if it would bite her. She hugged her arms.

The more everything came together, the more she felt foolish for not seeing it before. There was a reason everyone seemed to be warning her away from Lex Luthor. That day in the caves, she'd chalked it up to this formula he'd been fooling around with. Maybe it was making him jittery, unbalanced. It was exactly why she wanted no parts of it. But it was more than unbalanced. There was something desperate about him. Desperate didn't exactly equal harmless.

"Hey, Lois!"

She jumped as she saw Jimmy moving toward her.

"Did you see? Every other news outlet is foaming about us, especially now. And your ideas for those exterior shots of the houses were awesome. A little sinister, but not too sinister. I took the test shots, then... uh... Perry sent Dabney with the good cameras." He shuffled a bit. "Yeah. I had stuff to do anyway, so it's cool..." He seemed to brighten. "But that was yesterday's news anyway. Today had some fine work from yours truly. I cleaned up CK's cell images and, I have to say, some of my best work. Technically, he gets photo credit, which is cool and all. But they look great. Just creepy and cool and..." He blanched suddenly. "I mean, not that I think what they did was cool, just that it's... okay in a very detached sci-fi way and..."

"Got it," she cut in. "And I.. I do appreciate your work on this, Jimmy." She squeezed his arm. "But I... I haven't even looked."

"Well, yeah. I guess you wouldn't need to. You wrote it all and, hell, you lived it and all, which must have been so cool and..." He took a breath. "Okay. I'm not a heartless freak. I just mean... Good story and... thanks for letting me be a part of it."

"I know what you mean," she said, squeezing his hand. "And... I probably shouldn't ask you for more help, but..."

"No. Ask away. Seriously, I'd like to think I'm the visual part of the team of Lane and Kent in a small way... Or at least that's what I'm telling the Chief and if you could put in a word, I'd..."

"It's about the archives," she interrupted, not sure what she thought of the idea of Lane and Kent going onward. She was unsure enough about herself without adding a partner who may or may not be more than a partner and... She shook her head. "I want to get into the archives," she clarified.

"Well, that's easy. I mean, you get the password to that the first day you start."

"Oh. Good." Because the first day she started was something she so clearly remembered.

"Oh, they do change it periodically and..."

"Yes," she exclaimed, nearly seizing on that excuse. "Well, I've been away. So if I want to go down there and access them, the password would be... what?"

He laughed. "There's no down there anymore. I mean, we work with scans, not microfiche and you can access them remotely on the server and... Don't you read your email? They send a notice out when they change the password and..."

"Well..." She smiled suddenly. "I have been away. Crazy week and all. Better get on that." The idea of The Daily Planet's archives at her fingertips, not just what she could get on the net, but even more. If she could get all the facts, then she could make an informed decision and...

"Hey, no one has more of an excuse to slack on email memos than you two. And... Well..." He shrugged. "I just think you should know that, what you guys did is... I mean, it's not just the story. You saved those people. You don't just write about heroes. You're kind of heroes in your own right."

She stared at him as he smiled and shrugged again. Her eyes filled and she suddenly hugged him. "Thank you." Whatever she once was, whatever awful things she must have done, she had that now. She breathed deep and squeezed him again as he awkwardly patted her back.

"Well... hey..."

She pulled away, patting his shoulder. "Now you get to work, Olsen. Clean your lenses and charge up your best equipment, and be at the hospital tomorrow at nine sharp."

He grinned from ear to ear. "Me? I thought you guys might use Dabney or..."

"Dabney?" She leaned in. "That guy's overrated." To be honest, she wasn't sure who Dabney was. But she knew Jimmy and she knew he deserved more chances than he got. "I'll tell Perry we insist..."

The world tilted crazily as she found herself picked up and spun around. "You won't regret this," he said, putting her down. "Seriously, I've been experimenting a lot with natural light and Metropolis General has these tall windows and I..."

"I trust you," she said quickly.

"Thanks," Jimmy said, ruhing off. "You won't regret this. Seriously, you..." He bumped into Rachel, who dropped her files. "Oh, sorry. Let me..."

"Just don't bother," she hissed at him, bending down.

"Well, I should..."

"Don't." He moved off with a sheepish look and Rachel looked up at Lois. "Little help, Lane?"

Lois stared at her, confused, then bent down. "Okay."

Rachel stopped her hand from reaching for a file. "And people think I'm the one sleeping my way through the staff."

Lois felt her good mood evaporate. "What?"

Rachel let her go and gathered the files herself. "First Kent, now Olsen."

"You can't seriously think..." She looked up, aghast as Rachel sauntered away.

"Are you ready?"

She stood as Clark adjusted his bag on his shoulder. "Ready for what?"

"Thought we were going to get working on our questions, but if you want to stay behind and socialize..." He nodded to the door Jimmy had just disappeared through.

"Oh, not you, too." She would have laughed if it was at all funny. She strode to her desk for her own bag. "For your information, I just gave Jimmy a job taking the pictures tomorrow."

"Oh, good." Clark smiled. "I mean, I guess it's your decision alone, then."

"You would have done the same thing if you thought of it. Besides, he deserves better than playing gopher around here and..."

He started away. "I'm glad to see you taking an interest."

She followed, eyes narrowing at his back. "So you suddenly can't stand Jimmy? I'll have you know he said some very nice things about the both of us."

"And yet I didn't get a hug. Hmm."

"What is with everybody today?" She stopped outside and grabbed his arm. "Listen, Clark. I am working on four hours sleep and I am at the end of my rope. So why don't we just cut to the part where I tell you I'm not sleeping with Jimmy Olsen nor will I. The idea is ridiculous. He's like a brother to me. How sick can you get?" She gave him a disgusted look and moved to the parking garage.

She felt him behind her a moment later. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"Maybe I can point out that you haven't been a walk in the park lately."

She stopped, taking a deep breath before turning to him. "Fair enough. I can stop snapping if you can stop..." What? Existing? Because she couldn't seem to pinpoint what Clark had done. She couldn't seem to pinpoint Clark at all. But that would change. Maybe even today.

He sighed. "Look... We have until six to get the questions. Maybe the both of us should take a break and meet later."

"Fine. I need a nap, anyway." It was true, though she doubted she'd be napping with every issue of The Planet ever at her fingertips. "I'll be at your place around three."

"Uh... I think maybe that's not such a good idea."

"Okay, then four."

"I think your place is a... better working environment."

"With Linda crunching and watching Mama's Family? I really don't think..."

"See, but that's good," he said with a nervous smile. "We could use some... company."

She folded her arms. "Don't you mean a chaperon?" She stepped to him slowly. "Are you afraid I'm going to try to jump you or something?"

His eyes widened slightly. "Of course not. Just a..."

"Don't worry, Clark. I get it now." She stared up at him, seething slightly. Did he think she was psycho? She could take three nos to mean no. "Call it temporary insanity." She patted his chest, just a little roughly. "And I'm over it."

"Good," he said, stepping back.

She flashed him a close-lipped smile. "Your place at three, then."

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

Clark stood like a statue, dumbly watching her walk away, get in her car. He still hadn't moved when she drove off. "I still think it should be... your place," he finished, his voice echoing in the empty garage. Probably something he should have said when she was still in the general area.

He clenched his fists, then moved to his borrowed car. There was something about seeing her with Jimmy that unraveled him. They had a history, whether they knew it or not. And to see her hugging Jimmy when, just earlier, she'd been pressed against him, touching him...

Over it. A small part of him thought it might be true. She was frustrated with him. She seemed to be sexually frustrated and he could definitely relate. She'd been so casual after they'd slept together. Maybe she'd think nothing of going off, finding someone else to take care of her. He didn't think it would be Jimmy. Not that Jimmy would turn her down, but he doubted she would take advantage of him. But it happened before, didn't it?

He shook himself and pulled the keys out. If she said he was like a brother to her now, then he believed her. But maybe someone else, someone not so brotherly. Some stranger in bar, putting his hands on her, squeezing her hips, sliding his fingers over her...

There was a crash. His hand was in the window, having missed the key hole by about six inches. He pulled it out, wincing, wondering what Oliver would say. It didn't hurt him, but the car...

His eyes widened as he stared at his hand. It didn't hurt. He turned it over. It wasn't bleeding.

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Chapter Nine