Almost Whole (Chapter Thirteen)

"Okay, interns are transcribing, Olsen is developing and I need you two to agree on a theme."

Lois spoke up. "Well, it's obviously the outrage that this happened at all. Doctor Takamoto gave me some great quotes about dabbling in things you shouldn't."

Perry nodded. "Good, good. Kent!" Perry pointed at Clark. "Your thoughts."

Clark cleared his throat. He wasn't sure he was qualified to decide on what the point of the story was, but obviously there was a different mood in his room. "I... I kind thought the theme was more about the human spirit," he said, avoiding looking at Lois. "About how it can heal and move on after tragic events."

Perry crossed his arms. "Also good." He clapped his hands. "Okay, then. Lane, you're taking first paragraph before we get into the interviews. Kent, you're closing it up. We open on scandal, end on hope and Metropolis is glued to the page."

"That's fine," Lois said abruptly.

Clark nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good." Oh, God. The last words anyone would read about this would be his. How the hell was he supposed to write something profound enough for that?

Perry looked between them. "What's with you two?"

Clark shrugged. "Uh... nothing. Long day so far."

"Just mulling over the story, Perry," Lois supplied.

Perry narrowed his eyes. "You two seem... off."

Well, Mr. White, it's like this... As important as a gripping expose is, I'm a little sidetracked over getting my powers back and getting back to saving lives, kittens, catching purse snatchers... That kind of thing. Oh, perhaps I should mention I'm Superman. My ex-never-quite-girlfriend, that would be Lois, has me consistantly tied up in knots. And though I have the potential to get hit by a bus right now and walk away, I'm about to throw up everything I ate in the last year because I'm in no way qualified to close this story. Yeah. Of course, he couldn't tell Perry any of that, especially not that he felt under-qualified to do his job. He risked a glance at Lois. "I think we're just ready to get started."

"Yes. Definitely," Lois said, tossing him a tight smile.

"Okay," Perry sighed, then glanced at his watch. "You have about a half-hour before everything's transcribed. Then you can go wherever and write this whole..."

"I think we should do it here," Lois said quickly.

"Yes," Clark agreed like a shot. "I think we could get it done quicker if we keep focused."

Perry lifted his eyebrows. "In a noisy bullpen with fifty people milling around?"

"What can I say?" Lois stood. "I thrive on the pressure."

"Uh... Me, too." He didn't look at her, but there seemed to be a wordless agreement between them that they should definitely not be alone together. "And we get the on-site editing, so there's a bonus."

Perry shrugged. "You got a point. Don't want to email back and forth like last night."

Clark ducked his head, pretty sure that was directed at him.

"Alright," Perry barked. "Take a half, eat something, then get to work. You can have the break room. I'll be checking up periodically."

Clark stood and moved to the door.

"Actually, Perry, I was wondering if you had a minute..."

He turned back to see Lois moving around the desk to speak lowly to Perry. He sort of missed his hearing right now.

He moved out and closed the door. It wasn't his business. He had to remind himself of that, even though, deep down, he felt everything about her was his business. But she didn't feel that way. Maybe she never would.

"I just want things to be like they were."

"In which way? Your powers or with her?" his mother had asked.

"Probably selfish to want both."

"Then maybe just focus on the one."

Focus. Space. Distance. Perspective. They seemed to be the watchwords for their relationship these days. And maybe he had to live by them, even if it killed him inside.

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

"You're killing me, Lane," Perry groaned. "But fine. I'll give you three days."

"Perry, I am not asking for this so I can go water skiing in Cabo. I need a break."

"Fine. You're ripping my hair out, but four days."

"Open-ended, Perry."

"How open-ended?"

"I don't have a number for you. That's why it's open-ended."

"A week and that's my final offer."

She shook her head.

"Oh, come on! Kent was on the same story you were and I don't see him asking for... recuperation time."

"Well, I've been busting my hump here a lot longer than Clark. Besides, it's... It's not this story. It's personal." She caught his eyes. "Perry, you know me. You know I'd always rather be working. I wouldn't ask for this if I didn't need it."

He opened his mouth, then shook his head. "No. You wouldn't, would you?" He tapped his fingers on the desk. "Would open-ended mean back before Christmas?"

Lois reflected that Perry still didn't get the concept of open-ended. "Okay."

"Fine. Two weeks from Monday. You still have about twenty minutes. Now do me a favor since I'm being so damn understanding." He ushered her to the door. "Go to Fleishman's and get a pastrami melt, extra swiss cheese and a side of gravy fries."

She smiled and shook her head. "Small price to pay. Do you want coleslaw or..."

"It's not for me. It's for you. I hope some of this personal time includes actual eating." He pushed her out the door and closed it.

Lois stared at the door. So maybe she hadn't eaten much toda... this week. She was busy. Perry couldn't expect her to deliver hard-hitting journalism and stop and smell the pastrami.

She moved toward the break room, figuring she could grab a donut. It was close enough, cholesterol-wise.

"Hey, Lois."

"Jimmy." She sighed at the empty box.

"Picture's are hanging," Jimmy said as half of the last donut was being masticated in his mouth. "Just a waiting game now."

"I can't wait to see them." She poured herself some coffee and added a big dollop of hazelnut flavored creamer. It was kind of like food.

"Well, take it from the man who took them, they will be perfect."

She patted his arm and moved past him. "Good to hear."

"I know I got a nice one of the Kerns," he said, following her to her desk. "Sort of back-lit, really pretty... or I hope it'll be."

She sat down and put her styrofoam cup down. "You shouldn't doubt yourself, Jimmy. How long have you worked here?"

"More than two years." He pulled Rachel's chair from her desk and wheeled it up. "But it's just... Do you ever wonder if you've been lying to yourself?"

She stilled in the middle of opening her drawer. "How do you mean?"

"Well, it's like... You tell yourself this one thing, that you're good and you can do it, yet you still get this feeling like... Who am I kidding? Like you doubt everything you ever learned." He sat down and leaned forward. "I didn't say anything at the time, but I was scared shitless this morning. Kept having to check and make sure my thumb wasn't over the lens."

So it was just the job. For a moment, she forgot Jimmy was talking about the story. As if maybe he was talking about something else, something involving Kevin Grady and however much it was he lost. As if Jimmy, like herself, was having trouble connecting to his life. She almost wished he had been. Maybe she wouldn't feel so alone in this. Whatever his problem, he wouldn't be here if he didn't need something from her. "Jimmy, I wouldn't have picked you if I thought you couldn't do it. You're the first guy to get a clear shot of Superman." Of course, she knew that most of the reason Superman posed for Jimmy was that he was Clark Kent who had trouble saying no to what people... needed.

She glanced at Clark as he sat at his desk a few over, staring at his dark monitor. She hadn't forgotten what he said, about giving her what she needed. She just couldn't deal with it yet, make it fit with the other pieces, not until she was officially on sabbatical. Yet she took a just a moment off work. Knowing he was Superman made her wonder if Clark just had a disease to please. Was he was referring to just anyone's needs or... just to her? And if the latter, than what exactly had he been to her?

"Hey, you're right. I mean, I did get that pic with the flag and..."

She snapped her eyes back to Jimmy. "Exactly. You're practically a legend already."

He grinned. "Thanks. I... I just get insecure, you know. Sometimes I just need..."

"Jimmy, get out of my chair. You can make your simpering puppy eyes at Lois standing. Okay?"

Jimmy rolled his eyes and spun the chair around to face Rachel. "You could say please."

Rachel leaned over, running a hand over his bow tie. "Get out of my chair before I use this bow tie to crush your windpipe?" She smiled. "Pretty please."

Jimmy swallowed as she straightened, then got up. "Harpie," he muttered, moving away.

She turned to call out "Orville Redenbacher!" at his back. Lois noticed she didn't turn back... just stared after him.

Her eyes widened and she chuckled to herself. "Wow." She shook her head. "Just... revelations everywhere."

Rachel turned back and gave her a withering look. "What are you mumbling?"

"Nothing. It's just funny." Lois leaned back in her chair. "Once your eyes are open, you suddenly see everything."

"Uh-huh." Rachel wheeled her chair back to her desk. "God, you're weird. I don't know what he sees in you."

"Who? Jimmy?" He probably sees a blonde girl with a short bob. One who's not there anymore.

"He's been falling all over himself since you waltzed into this job. You can snap him up anytime, add to the collection."

Lois stood, gritting her teeth. "First of all, I never waltzed into this job. I worked for a top paper before this." I even worked for this paper, Lois thought, still feeling strange about it. How could she have forgotten? "Second, you're one to talk about collecting. Third, I have no intention of going after Jimmy Olsen."

Rachel glanced at her, then sat in her chair. "You can if you want. Not like I care."

Lois perched a hip on her desk and stared at her. "Really? Because it kinda seems like you do." And maybe that was why Rachel had been digging her claws into her from day one.

"Please," Rachel said dismissively. "He's a dork. I don't date guys like Jimmy."

"Meaning nice guys?"

"Yeah." Rachel stared at her blank monitor. "That kind."

Lois shrugged. "You could. I think he likes blondes."

"So why's he always hanging around that red head in account..." Rachel glared up at her. "Don't you have something to do?"

"Not for another ten minutes at least," Lois said easily, actually enjoying herself. It was kind of nice to get embroiled in other people's problems, especially when they weren't life threatening, for a change.

"Well, why don't you... go apply some blush. You look sallow."

Lois patted her head. "Great response. But I'm on to you." She straightened and walked away to the supply closet, nearly smiling. She kind of liked when things suddenly made sense. It gave her this feeling of peace. The knowledge that she would soon have more than two weeks to herself added to the general feeling of well-being. Just her and all the information she could get her hands on.

Once she got this story over with, of course. Strangely magnetic to her as Clark was, she couldn't wait to be free of him. To just be alone. No Linda with her smothering love. No Clark to muddy her mind. No Perry on her back. Just her and Chloe Sullivan. And no one else.

She grabbed an empty paper box from the closet and moved back to her desk with it. She opened her lower drawer, searching for her good mug. If she was going away for over two weeks, she didn't want to leave anything important behind. And while the Underdog mug Doris had given her seemed silly, it had a narrow rim and she really thought the coffee tasted better when... "Doris." She glanced at Doris' empty desk. Probably at lunch, like most people. She glanced at the strip of four pictures of them on her cubicle wall, taken at a carnival photo booth. Doris had been a bit like a mother to her. It was funny how readily she'd found herself gravitating to her. The feeling of a mother... Was she missing that because of her memory loss or did it go deeper? Because Gabriel Sullivan's obituary didn't mention a wife.

She carefully placed the mug in the box, then took the photo, too. It might help to have bits of home around her and... Isn't that funny? This bullpen was home. It was the only constant in her life these days, the only balm when things got too crazy. There was a family here. A mother, she thought, dropping the picture into the box. She glanced back at Perry's office. A father. She peeked around her desk at Rachel, on the phone with what surely wasn't work business. Even a bratty sister she could hardly stand. And Jimmy. A little brother who just needed a little more confidence...

She placed some blank notepads in the box, stopping once to wipe her eyes.

When she came back, would she still see this place that way? Be a part of this family? Knowing who she'd been might change who she was? She was on this path regardless, but there was a certain sadness that came with change...

She sat back in her chair and glanced around her. It was two weeks, but it felt like goodbye. This place might be the same when she came back, but she would not. That changed everything.

She straightened as she saw Doris coming in from lunch. She stood and rushed to her. "Doris..."

Doris stopped and tilted her head. "Yes?"

"I'm a bitch." Lois crushed her to her.

"Wha..."

She pulled back. "I yelled at you for no reason and that's not how I want you to remember me."

"Remember you..." Doris squinted behind her Cat's eye glasses, then looked to her desk. "Lois, are you... fired?"

"What?" Lois followed Doris' gaze, saw the box on her desk. "Oh, no. It's just... I'm going away for a few weeks."

"Oh, well..." Doris shook her head. "I didn't want to say anything, but you do need it." She pulled away and moved to her desk as Lois followed, slightly numb.

"Oh... Okay, then."

Doris sat, then glanced up at her. She shook her head and smiled. "It's alright, Lois."

"Yeah?"

"If I'd been through what you had, I'd probably snap a few heads off, too." She patted Lois' arm. "Now stop being such a ninny and go take a break. Maybe somewhere sunny."

Lois did smile, then. "I doubt that. Besides, I wouldn't want to be too far away." Not from this family, this home.

"Well, don't tell him that." She nodded to Perry's door. "In fact, turn off your phone."

"I think I might just do that," she said, considering it as she moved back to her desk. It wasn't just for Perry. For all of them. She couldn't be derailed this time. She'd got close before only to be thrown off with some story. It killed her now, to look back and see how close she'd been. It wouldn't happen again. She needed complete isolation if this was really going to be...

"...done."

"Huh?" She turned, saw Clark standing behind her. That was another piece of this home. The mysterious neighbor boy who was just a little more than a neighbor.

"They're done," he said, looking a little green. "They've transcribed everything." He held up a flash drive. "We can just copy and paste what we need. But we still have to write up... the other stuff," he said, sounding choked.

"Okay."

"We're supposed to work in the break room. Should we work on my laptop or yours?"

"Mine's faster," she said, staring at him. He was more of a mystery to her than ever, even after finding out hat he did in his off-hours. He seemed about to lose his lunch... and over a story. "I'll meet you in there."

She grabbed her laptop from her bag, opening it quickly. She had to erase the internet history. Couldn't have him knowing what she'd been up to. Maybe the mystery of Clark would be solved, too. But he didn't have to know that... yet.

She groped in her drawer, looking for her ipod as the hourglass flashed on the screen. It was just a story. The story of her life, and literally. And she wouldn't let anyone in on her scoop. Not Clark. Not Linda. Not... Grady, she read. It was on a tape, hastily scribbled with a marker.

She quickly tossed it in the box, then shoved said box under her desk. Another lead.

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

Clark rubbed his nose, wishing he could take off the damned glasses. But the break room, like most of the rooms in this art deco building, had glass windows. Someone could see. And while he was no longer sure they had a reason to be suspicious, he had to stay under cover regardless. If he stopped caring, that meant he gave up. And he wasn't about to do that. "I think Morgan's stuff about starting over would be good here. It kind of follows."

Lois got up and moved to the counter for more coffee, then yawned. "Read it back to me."

"Well you wrote 'How does someone pick up the pieces of a life that doesn't seem to exist?'" They'd been writing in tandem for hours now, with Perry popping his head in, asking if they were done yet. "Morgan said 'You don't. It's not like we can just go back to our houses and lives as if this was some long vacation.' Skipping ahead." He was starting to see what was quotable and what wasn't now. "'It's like we've just moved here. We have to start over.' It kind of flows."

Lois nodded and sat back down. "And then we could go into David's bit about never thinking he'd be here again. And Jennifer said something about..." She turned the laptop to her and started typing.

"How we doing here?"

They both turned in their chairs, facing Perry at the door.

"Not yet," Clark said.

"Ten more minutes, Perry."

"You better mean that, Lane." He pointed at her. "Because I have printers on stand-by and that little vacay isn't in writing."

"Yes, the chief giveth and the chief taketh away, huh?" she sighed. "We're nearly done. Really."

"If you start calling me Chief..."

"I won't if you stop pestering us," she warned.

Perry pursed his lips. "I'm holding you to that ten more minutes," he said before ducking out.

"Okay. Where were we?" She leaned back and rubbed her eyes. "Got it." She sat back up. Jennifer said something about Allen's state and..."

Clark's head snapped to Lois. "Vacay?"

She glanced at him, then quickly away. "Oh, I'm taking a couple weeks. Just to refuel. Nothing you need to worry about."

So that was what she was talking to Perry about. "Well, I thought you might have told me..."

"Why?" She turned to him, a bland look on her face. "We're not exactly partners aside from this story. Are we, Clark?" She stared expectantly at him.

"Uh... no. But... I... I was only..." He had to be careful here. He had no real right to ask, but... God damn it! He had to know! "Well, you know Ollie has a jet and you don't have to worry about airfare if..."

She made a disgusted sound in her throat. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm just going to have a... staycation."

"A what?"

"A kind of vacation where you stay at home and have some completely uninterrupted... alone time. Just me and... me," she finished on a hollow sort of laugh.

"Oh, well... That's..." He didn't know what it was. It wasn't as if he had a right to deny her some alone time. He didn't. Though he'd got used to seeing her every day... "I hope it's what you need," he said honestly. But two weeks without...

"It is," she said, her hands going to the keyboard. "Now what about what Jennifer said, about Allen being someone to her. It's,,, a sweet notion... knowing that you matter so much to someone that it... it doesn't matter if you're all there." She grew quiet.

His eyes were still glued to her. "I think... maybe it doesn't matter to her. Just knowing he's there and okay is enough." Or close to it. He'd often wondered the same thing about her. Could he love her this way? Even if she didn't know...

But that wasn't the question. It was whether she loved him. And she didn't. She was attracted to him, sure as he was to her. It might even be so intense that they had a hard time spending an unsupervised hour, but... she didn't love him. Not now. She did once. But he'd been too afraid to accept it then. And as much as he dreamed of a second chance, it might be time to accept that it wouldn't be. That this working relationship was all he'd have of her.

He cleared his throat. "I think, even though it's out of sequence, we should go with Joanne's quote about being free."

She nodded, not looking at him. "Yes. It would transition well into your closing and hope-filled thoughts."

He turned to her. "I... I wasn't trying to contradict you with that or anything. I just..."

"No." She smiled. "You just prefer to see what's good. It's not a bad thing, Clark. And... you know, the last paragraph is a big deal."

His eyes widened. "Yeah. I know."

"I don't think Perry would give it to you if he wasn't confident in your abilities." She leaned forward. "And those extend beyond stopping a bullet, Clark," she whispered. "I've seen it myself." She turned back to the laptop and clicked a few times. "There. 'Just being free is almost enough.' That's what Joanna said." She turned the laptop to him. "Now what do you say?" She stood, gesturing to the laptop. "Why don't you just hold on to that? You can hand it in to Perry when you're done. It belongs to The Planet, anyway." She moved to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm taking my break, Clark. I think I deserve it."

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

Lois gathered her purse and her box and straightened, holding both. This story had started as Clark's and it would end that way. She was letting go now. She was letting go of a lot of things. She passed the break room and threw Clark a smile, wanting to start her sabbatical on a note of good will. She didn't know how, or even who, she'd be after today.

But she knew a few things.

Clark was a reporter. He could be a damned good one if he just believed in himself.

And Lois Lane was not about to shrink from the truth, no matter how hard it was to face... alone.

She walked down the steps and out the revolving doors, feeling just a little more free with every step she took. As hard as it was to leave home, it always had to be done. That's how a person found herself, again, literally for her. And every step to the parking garage, to her car was just another step toward...

"Knowledge."

She stopped, her feeling of freedom suddenly replaced by something else.

"What we know." There was a low laugh. "It's almost whimsical and fleeting, isn't it?"

She felt suddenly constricted as she turned to face Lex Luthor.

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