No more thinking. All too much, words and images just running together, like pieces of a puzzle that wouldn't click. The pain made it stop before. But the pain was gone now. Now there was nothing to stop it. It kept coming... That day she met Murray, that day she knew who Superman really was, she'd made it stop. He'd made it stop. She stood on her toes, burying her nose in his neck.
"Lois, what are you..."
"Shh." They hadn't really been this close, this alone, since then. She kissed his jaw, undoing a button, wondering why she had to put up with it, feeling this confused and conflicted, when she could feel so good right now.
"I think we should..."
"No," she whispered. He wanted this, too. He had to. She could feel his heartbeat, going faster even through the... spandex. She pulled away and looked down. "You're wearing it? But I thought you couldn't..."
He swallowed and caught her hand. "You know... Just in case." He smiled slightly. "Didn't want to get caught without it again."
She stared at the bit of red and blue, peeking through his buttons. "Well, this makes this entire scenario more complicated. Do you think you could..."
He pulled her hand away, squeezing it before letting it go and buttoning up. "I think we should get to work."
She stepped back. "I see." She turned away and strode toward the elevator.
"Lois, I swear we'll get to the bottom of... everything."
She punched at the button and the doors opened. "Yeah. Or as far as we're allowed to, right?" She moved into the elevator. "I mean, you wouldn't be keeping anything else from... the public." She turned as he stepped in and the doors closed. "Would you?"
His brows drew together. "I thought you understood that..."
"Oh, just never mind." She pushed the PH button and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. She risked a glance at Clark as the elevator made its slow journey to the top. She wasn't sure which made her angrier, the fact that Clark, like the rest of them, was hiding things from her, or that he obviously didn't want to sleep with her. Or he did... Just not enough to actually do it.
And what good would sex do, anyway? Just a distraction, really. Even the best sex was just that. The only way to stop it was to find the answers. She glanced at Clark again. Maybe she could just turn to him right now. Say, Clark... Remember how you said you were involved with my cousin, Chloe? Funny thought about that... It just sounded insane, even thinking these words. She still wasn't sure what exactly she was dealing with. The only thing she was sure of is that all of them knew something she didn't. And nothing, up till now, had got them to spill.
No. She'd gather evidence. She'd get some of it straight. The way everyone acted around her, she couldn't confront them. Not just yet.
And the notes. They were what mattered right now. If she could find out who did this to her, then she could figure out... what exactly they did. That and why.
*********************
"I can't do it anymore. I can't watch this and not..."
Ollie sighed. "Clark, I understand how you feel. I think we're all feeling it on some level, but you yourself said you weren't sure her mind could..."
"It doesn't matter what I said. If something happened to me, Ollie, I'd want her to know. I even told Linda..."
Ollie sat up. "Did you see her today?"
"No. It was before we left, before..."
"Because she came back for her charger, but she still won't answer her phone and Bart says she isn't mad, but it's like she's avoiding me and..."
"God, Oliver, I'm not here to play marriage counselor. Can't you and Linda deal with your own relationship?"
Ollie stiffened. "Oh, I'm sorry. Why don't we deal with yours instead?" He leaned back. "Isn't that what this is about? You getting her back so you can pick up where you left... Oh, right. You left off right about the time you crushed her."
"That was low," Clark whispered.
"Well, so were you."
Clark rubbed his eyes and sat down. "I'm sorry. I just... This is not about us in the us sense." Or he was trying not make it so. But to be so close to her and know he can't truly have her, all of her... Even earlier, in the garage, he wanted her. Wanted to bury himself in her and forget this week. But he couldn't. He couldn't do it again. He knew now. She wasn't doing this to be with him. She was escaping. It was ironic, really. Years ago, he'd done the same thing to her. Put on something red and escape... But, really, turnabout is fair play, some voice inside him said. That voice had crept in like a devil on his shoulder ever since he first acknowledged it was there. I used her. She can use me. It's only fair. He squeezed his eyes shut. He shouldn't do it. He wouldn't do it. However sex might seem like a balm, it would only confuse things. "This is about her."
"Lois seems to be doing fine. She's strong and smart, determined..."
"You know as well as I do that one of her MOs from way back is to pretend everything's fine. I hear her say it often enough even now. But she's not. In many ways, she's a babe in the woods. She can't go through the rest of her life without the past. It isn't safe."
"You're talking about Luthor."
"She's met with him several times."
Ollie nodded. "So I gather."
"And I can't let that go on. She doesn't know who he was, what he's done... and especially what he's done to her."
"Clark, it's a legitimate concern and one I had myself, but... Luthor isn't exactly the same man. She was right about him in a way. Though I wouldn't exactly say he was a harmless kitten, I... We did start surveillance on him."
Clark leaned forward. "And?"
"Unhinged. I'd say Howard Hughes is an apt comparison. The man's fired most of his staff. He walks around mumbling from all accounts. Honestly, I was nearly ready to pull off surveillance before they got a old of us from the complex. He's gone off the deep end."
Clark shook his head. "You think this makes him less dangerous?"
"Not exactly. I do think she should stay away, but, in this particular case, he was a stool pigeon. Someone wanted to make sure all the activities led back to Luthor. The question is who and why?"
"Lois is looking over the notes."
"Well, she won't find anything useful. Just Bryce's frantic scribblings on what concentration of spores and electricity. Some bitterness about Albright mixed in. Nothing that points to an outside party. I think Albright was the main contact there."
"Lois said there were files on the computers that Albright..."
"Wiped clean. Some kind of failsafe. Even Victor couldn't get anything."
Clark leaned back and closed his eyes. "Do you think we should turn the notes over to the police?"
"And tell them what? That they fell from the sky? Besides all that, the police wouldn't know what to look for. Also, there are some references to blood, the source, and Smallville. Won't it seem a little odd that a reporter from that burg just happened to get himself kidnapped?"
"Yeah. Let's keep bringing that up."
Ollie smiled. "Clark, is it that hard to admit you needed help? Hey, I'm glad to help you. I'm glad you've finally let us."
"Well, I'm a little beyond help right now."
"Don't say that," Ollie warned. "You don't know for sure that..."
"What if there's real danger?" he snapped. "What if she needs me and I can't do anything? That's why she needs to know who to stay away from."
"Once again, meaning Lex." Ollie regarded Clark. "Something tells me this is more than just her safety."
Clark stiffened slightly. He could tell him that Lex's interest in Lois went beyond information, but Ollie couldn't know exactly what lengths Chloe had gone to to get information from Lex. But he knew. The idea of it still boiled inside him. "Do you like it?" he asked instead. "Him walking around scott free. Her speaking to him. Her. The one he hurt the most."
Ollie threw his hands up. "Hey. I want Lex Luthor to pay for his crimes as much as you do. But..." Ollie crossed his arms. "I don't know. It feels a little less satisfying when he's such a sad sack of misfiring neurons. Whatever Grady did to Lois, he was obviously a little less careful with Lex."
Clark stood. "Even that makes me wonder." He paced the length of the control room. "Whoever's behind this was behind Grady in some way and who would want this, for him or for her? I mean..."
"Clark..." Clark stopped and turned to Ollie. "Maybe we should accept that Lois' problems are, while made by the same man, something she asked for. She did send those letters and..."
"But the pain, Oliver... You haven't seen it. And I found those chemicals on her..."
"But what if that was just part of the process? We know Grady worked with Bryce and Albright early on. According to them, he got squeamish. But maybe he picked up a trick or two before branching out to private practice."
"With phony papers," Clark pointed out. "And this is different. He worked on others. They had no ill side effects and no headaches. Lois... she was different because... She couldn't truly want this. She couldn't truly want to forget..."
Ollie raised his eyebrows when Clark paused. "You?"
"NO," he shouted. "Everything she was, all of you. This isn't just about me."
"So... You want to just tell her. No matter what it might do to her."
"I..." Clark ran a hand over his face. "Maybe if we start small, I think... God, I don't know what I think."
"I think you need to cool down and figure out where to put all that excess rescuing energy until we figure out what's wrong with you. The two of you still have a story. Put your energy there instead of going off half-cocked and..."
"I can't just watch her..."
"I'm not saying we'll do nothing." Ollie took a deep breath. "After you get this out of the way maybe... we'll all have a meeting."
Clark narrowed his eyes. "What are you gonna do? Put it to a vote? This isn't Star City's council meeting."
"So you're the only vote?" Ollie stood abruptly. "We don't count? I know you've been here with her all this time, but there's more than you involved or are we forgetting that she has only one living relative?"
*********************************
"Linda... Of course I didn't say anything," Lois sighed into the phone. "Do you think I'm stupid? I'm not going to waltz in with a cigar and say congratulations. Not when I'm not the one who's supposed to be breaking the news."
"Well, he might not want a cigar. And he might not want to be congratulated. And he might not want the news. And I can't talk about this right now. I'm not alone," she added on a whisper.
"Dude, I'm right here," a distance voice said. "What are you talking about, anyway?"
"Nothing. Where's the remote? I hate court shows."
"So... What? You'll just let him think you've gained weight then act really surprised when they remove a baby from you?"
"No." Linda snorted. "I'm just... waiting for the right moment and... God, this is frozen solid. Bart, can you put this in the microwave for thirty?"
"What do I look like? A maid?"
"You look like someone who's not sitting down," Linda groaned. "Pleeeease! I can't even dig for the cookie bits. It's all hardened."
"Why should I help you when you won't share?"
Lois put down the notes. "Are you eating my ice cream?"
"No," Linda said after a while, her voice slightly garbled. "Of course not."
Lois shook her head and flipped to another page. "Linda, just try to leave something in my freezer for, you know, me. I really have to go. I'm having a hard enough time getting through these notes without pulling double duty as your conscience."
"Hey, my conscience is right here. I just need some time."
"Well, don't take too much," Lois said distantly, her eyes on the notes again. "Around the kid's fifth birthday, Ollie might catch on."
"Oh, ha-ha. Just for that, I might eat your ice cream."
"Like you didn't finish half of it already." Lois rolled her eyes and flipped another page. "I'll see you later."
"Okay. But could you pick up some..."
Lois hung up quickly, not about to be dragged to any takeout places or further dragged into Linda's issues with Ollie. She'd only called to check up, not to get into a long conversation. She put the phone on the cradle on the nightstand and resolved not to answer it if Linda rang back. She wouldn't, though. She'd be too afraid Ollie would answer.
She couldn't worry about them. She had a story and she had a mastermind to find. And that was just on the surface. Underneath, there were a million other things roiling around and she wished she could just have a moment to sit down, sort it all out. But she couldn't have that moment. She wasn't even sure she wanted that moment. She was fine, wasn't she? Did she even want to know? Want to think about it? It brought nothing but more confusion and work was the only thing that shut it off.
So she worked, sitting cross-legged on the bed surrounded by notes, squinting at the nearly illegible scrawl over the pages. Some scrawls weren't even on the lines. Just words in margins, even scrawled over other notes. And capitalization was not an issue.
concentration wrong. last one nearly electrocuted patient. and now supposed to work with this grady. leery. don't care. not my job. just have to figure it out. can't think about that side. just the project. so close.
Lois' breath hitched at the mention of Grady. She turned a page, hoping for details, but just more numbers, figures. The next page had more scrawls.
and to kansas now. can't leave. be closer to someone knowing. even to smallville, the source. so tempting to get more. too risky. no one can know what i do. even that alive. not him. kill me for real this time.
"Him," she muttered. She sincerely hoped Bryce didn't mean Clark. For the source and getting more, she was sure it was him. But the him that might kill her... No. Clark had, indirectly caused Bryce's death. But there wasn't that sort of viciousness about him. kill me for real this time. She knew Bryce had been married to Luthor. She knew that, before Luthor had lost his memories, seemingly his mind now, he'd been a ruthless business man. But a killer?
She shuddered and turned another page.
grady leaving. don't care. useless. drunk. better off without him. patients supposed to know now. willing. ridiculous. still not MY job. can't even look at them. don't need to. let her do it.
These notes weren't dated. Some of what she'd been through before had to have been near the end, some at the beginning. And nothing seemed to point to who was behind it. She bet Albright's would have. They might have been easier to read to, neat and on a computer screen, not scrawled on pages, pads, even napkins sometimes.
She rubbed her eyes and sat back against the headboard, glad it was at least quiet in here. He'd tried to work in the small dining area, but Victor, AC and Diana were watching ESPN... and loudly. Clark had gone off to talk to Ollie before he joined her, which he hadn't yet. She leaned over again and tossed what notes she'd gone through back in the box. She'd go over them later. Maybe after they finished with the story. It was obvious these notes wouldn't be part of it, but she was still taking them with her. If she could go through them again, put them in some kind of order, then she might see what she couldn't now. All she saw now were flashes of the girl.
And it all seemed too strange to be true. Before, it was easier to push away. The pain helped make it necessary, even a matter of survival. At the time, she'd wondered if she was somehow sharing a ghostly connection to Chloe Sullivan. Her cousin. That one she hardly remembered, thought she must have hardly known. And the funny thing was, that girl didn't seem right somehow. This lost cousin, killed by Lionel Luthor as the papers had it. She didn't see short, blonde hair, flipped at the ends. She saw dark, slightly sandy hair. Long and smooth. She closed her eyes, let it come. Short skirts. Too short and topped with shirts that were a little too tight and low cut. More make-up than a girl her age should wear, but it wasn't her job to say anything. She'd leave that to... Lois? Her eyes squeezed shut harder. That can't be right.
There was a knocking as the girl stared at her, her lips set in a petulant line, her eyes moist. She flounced away, her hair flowing behind her as the knocking got louder...
She opened her eyes. The knocking was at the door.
"What?" she snapped.
It opened slowly and Clark peeked his head in. "Uh... Hey."
She sighed and tilted her head. "Yes?" She wasn't completely over the garage. She still felt embarrassed and oddly angry and still so frustrated she could burst.
"I thought we could go over the..."
"Notes?" she finished for him. "Glad you finally decided to join me." She rose from the bed and swept more of them into the box. "But no. Ollie's right. There's nothing to find in them at this point. If I could go over them some more, put them in order..."
"Sure. We could..."
"We can't," she said, cutting him off. "We still have copy to get out by midnight." She hefted the box. "And it's going to be pretty hard writing it up, considering everything we're not saying."
He moved to her, nodding to the box. "Let me get that."
Lois held it away. "You aren't of the super-powered persuasion anymore, apparently. I don't expect you to do the heavy lifting if it might strain you or..."
"I can carry a box," he said shortly.
She held it out to him. "Fine, then. See if you can."
He took it and held it at his side, glowering. She felt slightly satisfied.
"We should get on the story."
He nodded, still frowning and moved through the door. She followed, smirking. There was this petty little part of her that just wanted to needle him right now. Maybe it was because of whatever he was hiding from her, him and the rest of the Merry Men. Maybe it was because of the way he'd pushed her away earlier. Maybe he deserved it somehow.
They moved to the elevator, past cries of "Did you see that? I mean, did you see... that?" from AC.
"I don't know what you're so excited about," Diana drawled, even though she too was leaning forward with the guys. "Anyone of us could leap like that. And this game has to be twenty years old."
"But it's the skill," Victor said insistently. "These are just regular guys. Think of the adrenaline that takes."
Lois stopped short, nearly falling into Clark. He had stopped, staring with his mouth open as Victor pressed something on the remote, making the padded football hulk leap a pile of bodies again and again. "Clark..."
"Huh?" He stared at her. "Uh... Sorry." He moved to the elevator again.
She followed him in and pressed the button for the garage. They faced the doors in silence. "Tomorrow's story should have more about their plan to implicate Luthor," Lois said, just thinking of it herself.
He turned sharply to her. "Do you think that's... needed?"
"Yes, I do. That's one thing that the police have, even thought they also know it's not true. If we don't print it, we aren't fleshing it out. A least what we actually can," she added quietly. "The point is that he might see it and I should probably warn him that his name might be splashed in the papers."
"Well, it doesn't have to be you. Someone from PR could call and give him the heads up. I mean, you... We're too busy for all that."
She nodded. "But that's not why," she said as the doors opened. "I see the way everyone's faces tighten whenever his name is mentioned."
He glanced at her briefly before he moved through the doors. "Oliver's letting me take a car. We can get your car back at The Planet then..."
"I can walk from my place to The Planet. It's only a few blocks. And don't change the subject." She moved out of the elevator and faced him. "So... Luthor. You think he's bad news, huh?"
He closed his eyes briefly, then looked down at her. "Let's just say I know it."
She took a deep breath, then nodded. "Okay."
He squinted at her. "Okay?"
"I'll stop contacting him. It's..." She thought of Bryce's frantic scribblings. Of that him she seemed so afraid of. She wasn't stupid. She'd done her homework. On their honeymoon, a plane had gone down. Lex Luthor had been missing for months. The news of Helen Bryce's disappearance had come after the second honeymoon. For the groom, then the bride, to go missing seemed more than a wacky coincidence. "It's just as well," she finally finished. "He seemed less than lucid, anyway." And worse off than her. Whatever this formula was that he'd tried to get his memory back, she wasn't sure she wanted it. She wasn't sure what would happen to her. And she wasn't sure she wanted go any crazier than she'd already been going. "I'd rather just stay away from him."
Clark stared at her for a long time. "Thank you," he finally said.
*****************************
"You're welcome," Clark said, placing the bag to the side of her. "I got everything on it. I figured you could pick off what you didn't like."
"I'm sure it's fine," she said absently. "Thanks for making the run. I was just... absorbed."
Clark moved behind her. "What are you on?" The screen she'd been looking at suddenly disappeared, leaving her desktop wallpaper, a snowy tundra beneath the icons. He only caught the words "County Coroner's..." before it went away.
"Just checking up on Bryce. Seeing if they're releasing anything new." She looked up at him, suddenly smiling. "Thanks for the burger."
He nodded. "You're welcome." Checking up on Bryce, It made sense. Except her smile was too bright. He couldn't seem to get over the feeling that she was hiding something. He shook his head and moved to his own laptop. Maybe he was getting too paranoid. His conversation with Ollie had left him raw and exposed. He did want her back. But it wasn't entirely selfish. It wasn't even entirely about Luthor, though he did feel somewhat assured by her words earlier. He just wanted some shred... something to show him she wanted to know. Something that gave him some sort of tacit permission. He'd intruded enough, insinuating himself into her life. Was he allowed to just bombard her with the past?
He tried to focus on his own screen. "The stuff Helen told me about their previous work... I think that should be included. Maybe these people could come forward."
"Weren't they working with Grady then?" She stopped her typing. "Chances are, these people have no idea they were even involved. Might not even know their real name."
The last was muttered, but he heard it. "Do you... Do you think they'd rather know than not? I mean... It might be hard to face, but is it better than being in the dark?" He leaned forward slightly, suddenly catching himself doing it.
Lois stared at her screen, then across at him. "Who can say?" she said. She turned back to her screen. "We don't have names, anyway."
"No." He felt strangely disappointed. It wasn't as if her saying they'd want to know was that shove he wanted. But just something... anything that would tell him that the truth was better than the ease of ignorance.
"On the upside," Lois said, "the police are looking for Grady. Maybe they'll find him. Maybe he can shed some light."
Clark glanced around his screen again. "Maybe on more than this story."
"Obviously." Lois glanced around her screen. "He can... Maybe he could tell us who's behind this."
Clark nodded and went back to his screen. Yes. The story mattered. But he needed to hear her say it. If he just knew that she wanted to know, he could... Wait for the damned meeting, obviously. He couldn't just tell her everything now, not with all they had to do. More than that, he wasn't sure he should make a move without consulting Linda. Linda who would kill him if he did this without a by-your-leave. Linda who actually could kill him, weak as he still was.
He leaned back and closed his eyes.
"Almost done," he heard Lois say. "We just need more coffee."
He opened his eyes and started to rise from his table.
"No. I'll get it," Lois said. "You look... awful."
"Thanks," he grunted. He took his glasses off, let them clatter to the table. He didn't need them in front of her now. They didn't impede his sight, x-ray not withstanding. But they did irritate him.
He closed his eyes for just a moment, suddenly so tired. He thought he must have nodded off when he jumped at a small noise.
"Just your coffee," Lois said behind him.
He glanced at the steaming cup to his right. "Thanks."
He felt her hand on his shoulders suddenly. "God, you are tense."
"Just... have a lot do," he finished on a breath as she started kneading.
"It's only eight," she said, leaning down. He could feel her breath near his ear. "And we're nearly done. Just relax."
He began to, feeling her fingers dig into the base of his neck, then his shoulders. "Yeah," he breathed. "Nearly done... That feels so..."
He heard a throaty laugh as her hands moved lower, nudging into his neckline, still kneading. "We could do with a break.
He felt the warmth of her at his back as she leaned down further, her hands slipping into his shirt. He hummed slightly, his breaths coming faster as he felt her breasts brushing against his shoulders.
"Always so much to do," she whispered. "So nice just to turn it all off for a while."
He leaned back into her. "So nice..." His eyes shot open as her fingers brushed his nipples inside his shirt. He leaned forward and her hands returned to his shoulders. "Yes. We need a break." He stood and her hands fell away completely. "A... bathroom break." He rushed away. "Be right back."
*********************
Lois stared at the door and huffed as Clark wasn't right back. What was wrong with him? Was he such a Puritan that he suddenly refused to have sex with her? He wanted it. She was sure that some part of Clark wanted it. After their time in bed last week... Well, he couldn't have suddenly stopped. Could he?
And she needed something. Anything after what she'd seen. She almost wanted to go back to the screen again, read that name again. Because it had to be wrong. Lois Lane, cousin, had identified the body of Chloe Sullivan. But she didn't need to see it again. She'd spent Clark's entire burger run staring at it.
She clenched her fists and turned away from the door. She needed something. She needed release. If not sex, then she might pour her crazy guts out to the nearest stranger and that couldn't be good. Not if she wanted to be perceived as a reasonable sane person. She just needed to... her eyes lit on his phone and she found herself moving to it. She took it from the cradle and grabbed her purse from the couch. She pulled out her notepad and thumbed through until she found what she was looking for. She dialed quickly.
"Hi, Pammie... Yeah. It's me... Good. I'm mostly... Actually, I'm not good or fine or hunky-dory or anything close. Remember how I'm keeping your secret to the grave? Well, I might need a return on that favor. Is Mike home?... Well, could you get him to keep an eye on the kids? Because I'll be free in about an hour..."
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