Work.
Now was the time for work. He was supposed to be finishing up a damning piece on Luthorcorp's execs having a spa retreat, what with the company holding its hand out for a bailout and Luthor himself in seclusion.
As a nod to his "normal life," he was also supposed to be listening to Jimmy's monologue, totalling three minutes so far on how much of a tragedy it was that Clark never saw Goonies.
"...and it's not just about saving the town, it's about one last adventure, you know? I mean... Pirates and counterfeiters and..."
Any one of these things fit in this place during the ten o'clock hour. But he wasn't exactly in this place. He was somewhere two hours ago, late to work because he'd stayed to further interrogate Bart. He'd left, telling himself he'd be okay knowing she was okay, at least enough to get through work. But it wasn't exactly enough. He wanted details. How okay? Lying in bed with an ice pack okay? Laughing and joking about the whole thing okay? Having a complete and total nervous breakdown okay?
His hand inched to his phone, but he pulled it back.
He couldn't control everything and he didn't need to. He was part of a team. He'd been drilling that into at least two people in the last twenty-four hours. He just had to drill it into his own head. Someone was handling things and he had to trust that.
But what about this wristband? Was she okay with it, really? Lois hadn't been exactly thrilled about the bracelet that wouldn't come off. He'd given in called Murray when he got to work, but he seemed half-asleep and Clark got nothing but "Very unobtrusive. Only a simple monitor" before he actually began snoring into the phone.
"Is it because you grew up on a farm?" Jimmy was asking. Clark shook himself and tried to look like he'd been listening. "Could you not get cable out there? Because I saw it about a million times on TV alone."
"Uh... We had cable. I guess I just never got around to seeing it."
"See, a coming-of-age classic doesn't just slip through the cracks." Jimmy shook his head. "That's just wrong. Now you're basically forcing me to have a movie night."
"Jimmy, you don't have to do that. I could just rent it someth..."
"Why rent it when I have it on DVD? It'll be awesome. Well get some popcorn and gummy worms and... a six pack and some pork rinds... a copy of Die Hard. Yeah." Jimmy sat straighter. "I mean, I'm not twelve. It's not like I just watch kids movies."
"Of course not." Clark smiled to himself. Maybe when all this settled down, he'd be more in the mood for movie night with Jimmy. "You know, I would, but..."
"Maybe this Thursday, we... Oh... I can't. Have plans with," his eyes cut over to the left, "someone."
Clark followed his stare. "Someone meaning Rachel?"
Jimmy sat back, crossing his feet. "Not even talking about it. I mean, it's no one's business, anyway."
Clark nodded. "Understood."
"You tell one person and then it's all over the building that Jimmy and Rachel... Yeah. Not saying a word."
Clark shuffled his notes. "Got it."
Jimmy was silent for a moment. "Okay. You dragged it out of me." He leaned forward, looking around. "We... Well, we didn't... you know. But we got as close as you can without actually... you know. You know?"
"Yeah. I think I... know." Not that he exactly wanted to. Though a small part of him liked being on the inside track of the office gossip, he'd rather Jimmy go light on the details.
"See, but now there's all this pressure. Because if we... you know, then... What does that mean?"
What did it mean? What did it ever mean? He and Lois had sexed each other every which way for years. Sex was an easy thing to fall back into, even now -- only too easy. But it didn't make things less complicated. "Maybe you should take it slower, just... date." Dating was the one thing he and Lois had never done. They were friends. They were... lovers? In a way, but never exactly...
"I wanna be honest here, CK, I'm not exactly Don Juan. I know I come off like I'm pretty smooth and all, but... I don't even know how to act around her. I mean, we work together. That makes things weird enough. But we weren't exactly friends before this, so what do we even talk about? She... she doesn't even own a game system. I don't know if I can relate to her."
"Maybe I'm the wrong person to ask this kind of thing." He didn't know what made things work. He'd screwed it up when she was his best friend and he didn't exactly do much better when they were nearly strangers. He stared, unseeing, at his notes. "I don't have any answers, Jimmy." Only hope that fate or even dumb luck would make it all work out somehow.
"Well, I have even less. I mean, this was so much easier when it was all name-calling and contempt. That was our entire thing. Now it's... I don't know what it is. I couldn't even talk to her today and she hasn't talked to me and..."
"Well, maybe you could just pull her aside and... be honest." It was the plan, at least. He'd tell her. He'd tell her whatever she wanted to know, provided she could handle it. "Then let her digest it. Give her time to decide. She's probably really confused. She doesn't know what to think. Her entire world's just been tilted and nothing will ever be the same."
"Yeah?"
His head cleared and he realized Jimmy was listening raptly.
"You think Rachel's feeling... all that?"
"Um... sure?" Clark shrugged, moving back to the matter at hand. "Anyway, maybe it'd be good to just take things slow, be honest and..."
"Hey, Poindexter!"
Jimmy actually looked up at this nickname. Clark followed his gaze to Rachel, standing in the copy room's doorway.
"What did you do to the Canon? It's completely jammed and I have a whole stack of divorce papers to scan." She slapped a sheaf of paper against her hand.
Jimmy stood. "I didn't even touch it. Besides, you just pull back the B panel and..."
"You know, I don't speak dork, so why don't you just get in here and fix it?"
Jimmy's face reddened. "But I didn't..."
"Just get in here, Jimmy," she said, staring hard before turning.
Jimmy turned to Clark. "Can you believe how she... Oh." His face brightened. "Yeah. Great advice, Clark. I should just go for it."
"But I never said..."
Jimmy patted his shoulder. "Good talk." He practically sauntered to the copy room. "So... at your service."
Rachel turned, smirking. "Geek."
"Shrew."
Clark heard a small giggle as Jimmy shut the door. It might not be a love for the ages, but at least someone was having fun. He didn't remember fun. He'd been trying to, lately, but it wasn't exactly easy when your not-girlfriend was troubled and you still couldn't fly and...
"Shut up," he muttered, sick of his own whining. It accomplished nothing.
He propped his notes on the side of his monitor and tried to settle into the story.
"Kent!"
He glanced up as Perry strode toward him with a large bear claw. "You heard from her?"
"Heard from who?" he asked, feigning ignorance.
"Lane, who," Perry said with a withering look.
"Oh... No. She hasn't called me," he said carefully.
Perry stared hard at him for a long moment, but Clark managed to keep his face blank until Perry sighed. "I finally get a good team and half of it decides to go off skiing or tanning or whatever the hell people do on vacation. Not like I'd know."
"I wouldn't either," Clark said truthfully.
"The point is I have story ideas coming out my ears and I need an investigative team."
"Well, if you want me to check anything out..."
"Kent, Kent, Kent..." He shook his head and perched a hip on Clark's desk. "I like you. You know that. But you're like this unformed lump of talent. But that's just what you are now."
"A lump?"
"Unformed," Perry said, pointing at him with the bearclaw. "You need some leadership till you get your bearings. Why do you think I put you with Lane? Results. Something I don't seem to get out of you lately." He glanced at Clark's notes. "Aren't you done yet?"
"I was just working on it, Perry," he said, glad that was true at the moment.
"But not done. You're unfocused and you lack discipline and I just don't have the time for it. You need someone like Lane to ride you."
Clark tried his best not to think of that in any sexual way... and was nearly successful.
"So if you had any idea how to get a hold of her and tell her something about how she needs to be back here early, then..."
"I've told you," Clark said, keeping his tone light. Perry had spent most time with Clark asking when Lois was coming back and what was going on with her and refusing to believe Clark when he said he had no idea. With good reason, he supposed. He, at least, know more than Perry did. Though not by much. "She doesn't answer her phones." That much was true.
"Yeah, yeah." Perry took a large bite out of his bearclaw and frowned. "I just never thought she'd really do it. I thought it'd be a few days and then she'd be back. You think she's having a good time, at least?"
Clark decided to change the subject. It was getting harder and harder not to outright lie to Perry. "I'm nearly done with this piece." That was something in the neighborhood of hardly started.
"Good. Because I want it by two."
He stared dejectedly after Perry as he strode away. He couldn't exactly complain about a page two story. He was lucky to have something besides the police blotter, as crappy as he'd been lately. "By two," he mumbled, trying to stare at his notes again. He'd be working through lunch for sure. And he'd hoped to use that time to swing by, see if...
He jumped as his cell phone rang, rubbing at his ear. He'd been having some issues with involuntary use of powers this morning, mostly because he wasn't concentrating. His own fault, really. Though, on the surface, he was taking one thing at a time, inside, he was juggling. He fished his phone from his briefcase, scrambling to open it when he saw the number.
"Linda?"
"Hey, Clark. I..."
"What's going on?"
"Oh, I got your mother all dolled up. We went for a lighter shade of red so when more grays come, they won't be so jarring. I went more auburn, myself. And we did a seaweed mask, which really draws out the toxins and leaves the skin..."
"I mean with Lois." Not to be rude, but he didn't much care about seaweed and dye right now...or ever.
"Oh, nothing. She'll be sleeping till noon. I have some experience with a half-bottle of Jack and..."
"But she's awake. Bart said..."
"Oh, she is? But that's not fair. I was supposed to be back before... She must be lost without me," Linda sighed.
"Bart said she was doing fine."
"Well... okay then." She sounded nearly disappointed. "I guess she's fine. I mean, I have things to do, so if she doesn't need me..."
"But he also said something about a wristband and I wanted to be clear on..."
"Martha, she's awake," Linda said, obviously not listening to him. "I know... Well, we still have to meet with the photographer and it's on the way to her place, so... No. It can't wait... We have nearly no time and I am not circulating just any picture. We need something fresh and..." She groaned. "Clark, I've gotta go. You're mother's being difficult. I'll call you."
"Wait just tell me..." He stopped, deciding against speaking to the silence. He shut his phone and glared at it. He really was trying to be part of the team right now, but he felt like the lowest member when nobody would... His eyes widened and he quickly dropped the phone to his desk, shutting his eyes and pulling off his glasses. He put his head down and stared at his phone. The plastic screen had started to bubble. Now his damned heat vision was going off.
"Jesus, Kent," he whispered. "Focus." He had to reign it in or he'd never get through the day without blowing something up or going deaf or ruining his glasses. He checked them. The glass was smeared and slightly... melty. Lead might impede his X-ray vision, but it was still sensitive to heat. He ducked his head further and pulled his spare pair from his drawer, nearly fumbling to put them on at a loud ringing, now from his desk phone. He hadn't thought she'd call back so soon and on his work line. He hoped he hadn't screwed his cell up beyond repair. "Linda?"
"Um... No. It's Lorna."
He blinked, adjusting his glasses. "Who?"
"Clark... You know... Lorna Leery?"
Lana. "Yes. Hi... Lorna," he added quickly.
"I'm sorry to call you at work, but I was wondering if you'd thought more about meeting and... Well, catching up."
It had actually been the last thing on his mind. "Yeah. I think... we definitely should."
"Oh, good. Because I passed this little Italian place downtown and I was thinking we could have lunch and..."
"Actually, I can't today," he said, stopping her before she got too far. "I'm really backed up at work."
"Oh... Well, what about dinner?"
"You know, I'm... not sure I can..." He had no idea what tonight would bring for him. But he seriously doubted dinner with Lana was in the cards.
"Yeah... I know you're busy. I mean... I get it."
Clark winced at her dejected tone. "But definitely tomorrow," he said, saying it without thinking.
"Yeah? That'd be great. I can even make a reservation. Oh... and it's on me. I insist."
She sounded happy and he didn't want to burst her bubble by telling her he truly had no idea what tomorrow would bring, either. But he had to get this out of the way sooner rather than later. "Sounds great," he said, trying to mean it before hanging up.
It might not be the number one thing on his list. But it wasn't like it would be torture.
**************************
"This is a massacre," Bart said, triumphantly shuffling the ten cards in his hand. "I'm finally going to beat you, fair and square."
Lois gathered up the forty-two she had with a groan and started doling them out. "It wouldn't be if I remembered how to play this game."
"Of all the things to forget..." Bart dealed out his side, stopping when he ran out to turn his cards face-up. "I didn't think anyone could forget how to play Spit. You used to beat my ass every time we... Oh." He glanced down at her wrist.
"I think I can handle a few little things, Bart." Victor had left them with a warning to take it easy. Bart had opted to play Spit, nearly offended when she balked at the name and asked what the hell that meant. Apparently, it meant splitting a deck of cards and making two piles, in which each person tried to get rid of their cards by placing them on either pile, depending on which one had a card one higher or lower than any of their dealt cards. When one ran out of dealt cards, the faster player grabbed the smaller pile.
"I think you're too fast to not be using powers," she said, taking her time turning the cards at the top of her piles.
"No. You're just slow. I might be, too, if I spent half my night drinking and the other half talking to the elevator."
She shook her head and giggled. "I still think you're lying."
"You weren't there." He chuckled. "I mean, you were... But you so weren't."
"Spit," she said, placing one of her giant leftover pile down in the middle. Just one pile now. She was probably going down.
Luckily, Bart seemed to have a lot of royals and she put her five on the four, then a three, then a two, then...
"Hey, you're getting it back. I knew we couldn't haave wasted so many hours with this for nothing."
"Did we do this alot?" she asked, still piling on cards.
"You kidding? That winter in Star City, it rained a lot. And this was the best thing to do on a rainy night. When Ollie and Linda were off being all couply, you could always call me up and I'd be there like a shot. You couldn't play with Vic or even AC, if he was in town. No competition."
"Because they couldn't speed their way through it?" she asked, smirking as she ran out of viable cards.
"Hey, I never cheat at cards. It's unethical. Not even when we played Strip Poker."
"We did not!"
He grinned. "No. We didn't. But you should have seen your face." He shook his head. "I wouldn't say no to it, of course, but we all know you only had eyes for..." He suddenly looked down at the ten on the top of the pile. "Hey, I'm back in play." He placed a jack, then a queen, then another jack, then another queen...
"Eyes for who?" she asked, thinking she already knew the answer.
He placed a king, then stopped. "Listen, we're supposed to just hang. I don't want to overload you with..."
She placed her hand over his. "Bart, the whole point of this is for me to know."
"I know."
She took her hand away. "So?"
"So... Some things aren't mine to tell." He placed an ace down.
She nodded. "Fair enough."
She piled on a two. "But just for that," she said, piling on a three , then a four, then a five, then a six... "You get beat." She slapped the empty space to the side of the pile before he could.
Bart stared at his one card. "So close." He shook his head and pulled the pile to him. "But I'm not beat. You only bought yourself more time."
"Keep telling yourself that," she said, shuffling what cards she had left.
"Yes. I'll keep telling myself how hard I'm gonna beat your ass because I will."
"It's only gonna hit you harder when I..." She trailed of at a knock on the door. She stared at Bart, disappointed. "Are you going? Is that your relief?"
"Relief?" Bart looked offended. "I told you a million times, this is not guard duty."
"Well, I figured..."
"We're hanging, for crying out loud. I mean, it's not like someone needs relief from hanging."
"I don't know how this works," Lois said, putting. "I woke up to a bunch of people and electrodes and wristbands and I'm just trying to go with it."
"But you're acting like I'm guarding you when I thought we were cool."
"It's Oliver," Lois heard through the door. "I'm jet-lagged and my legs feel like jelly, so I'd kind of appreciate if you two could stop yammering and let me in."
Bart sped to the door and it flew open. "Boss!"
Oliver nearly stumbled in.
"Boy, am I glad you're back. There is so much happening. You wouldn't believe..."
"I know," he cut in, staring at Lois.
"You know?" Lois stood.
"I got filled in. I figured I should stop by and..." He shrugged, coming toward her. "I wanted to see how you were."
"I'm f... I'm holding up." She tried to smile back. Despite the distraction of her time with Bart, she really wanted to get down to business with someone who might not be so hesitant to fill her in. Oliver, from what she knew, was nearly always business, of one kind or another. "I'm just... a little hungry," she said, wondering if Bart would take the hint.
He did, appearing beside her. "Hungry? Why didn't you say so? I know you tried the breakfast burrito earlier, but The Taco Stop has a carne asada..."
"I'm actually in a pizza mood," she said quickly. Yes. Pizza. That takes at least a half-hour to bake, no matter how fast Bart goes...
"Say no more," Bart said, suddenly at the door. "I'd like to think I know the best place in the city and the best pizza in the best place and... Wait..." He turned to her. "Do you like anchovies?"
"No," she said quickly, caring at least that much what was on the pizza.
Bart shrugged. "Plan B, then," he said and was gone.
She moved to the door and closed it, turning to Oliver. "So..."
He took a deep breath. "So..."
Lois gestured to the couch.
Oliver only stared at her.
"Thought you might want to sit, jelly-legs and all..."
"Yeah. Thanks." Oliver moved to the couch and sat very carefully, wincing slightly.
She did, too, turning to him. "You okay?"
"Sure," he grunted."Just the jetlag and all." He gave a very pained smile.
She didn't exactly believe him, but she suspected it wasn't her business. Linda, however... "Linda's out," Lois said quickly. "With Martha."
Ollie turned to her. "Yeah? Because I kind of thought she'd be here, with you... how you are."
"Well... Life goes on. Martha's running for office."
"Oh. That's nice. So... Linda's keeping busy. That's good." He sounded sort of tense and she wasn't sure why. The only thing she was sure of was that he and Linda needed to have a talk yesterday. That and that she had about a million questions for him herself. That was two good reasons to keep him here until Linda came back.
She just didn't know how to start. The silence stretched into what must be minutes. She started slightly when Oliver spoke.
"Glad you're... holding up."
"I'm good so far."
The silence picked up again and she figured she'd break it this time. "Got a toy from Victor and Murray." She held up her wrist and Oliver took it, staring at the device.
"I didn't know about that."
"It's supposed to measure heartrate and brain activity." She pulled her wrist back. "I thought you were filled in."
"I only just landed. Had city business this morning and I can't exactly get a hold of anyone from the air, so... I found out late last night. From Clark."
"Clark..." It wasn't exactly a name she'd let in, yet he'd seemed to be the elephant in the room all day.
"He came to Star City. I would have come earlier, but there was a meeting with the commissioner about how to deal with some... special crimes." He gave another pained smile. "Never a dull moment in Star City."
"Star City," she found herself repeating. "I know Star City. I... only remember bits and pieces." She shook he rhead. "More bits than pieces, really. I'm still unsure of what I really know. I hardly gave it a thought until that night I met all of you..." She rolled her eyes. "Met you. I know that's not true. I mean, I know that wasn't the first time, but it felt like it. These details just flooded in, but they were so hazy and patchy. I had this list of facts, really, but I hardly knew any of you."
"Well..." Ollie elbowed her lightly. "Does it help that we know you?"
"Not always. Even with all the info, I still feel kind of out of the loop. I found what I could, but... there wasn't much to find."
"Yeah," he sighed. "I should probably confess that most of that was my doing. Mine and Victor's."
She turned to him, surprised.
"It started after Chloe Sullivan... well... died. Changed a few things to make it fit. You knew at the time. And after... Well, after Grady did what he did..."
"What I had him do," Lois cut in.
"Jury's still out on that, but after... Well, we just thought it would be easier if you had less things to remind you. We thought you might want it that way. And I thought we did a pretty good job, too. I didn't think anyone could get at Chloe Sullivan." He sat back, regarding her with a slight smile. "Didn't count on you. I mean, if anyone could... Well, it would be you. I should have known that. Once you get an idea in your head, you don't exactly let go. Kind of a family trait, really."
She tilted her head. "So you know me that well?"
"Not as well as some, but a little more than you do right now. I guess We all do. I guess you can't go through what we all did without getting a pretty good measure of each other."
She chewed on that for a moment. "Ruby Ridge?"
"That and other things. I... I need to be honest, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do here."
"Help fill in the blanks?" She shrugged and sighed.
"But to what extent?" He took her hand. "Lo, I want to help, but only if I know I'm helping."
"Well..." She held up her right wrist."Just think of this like a buzzer. It tells you when time's up."
He chuckled. "Sounds like a game show."
"Yeah. This is your life." She chuckled as well. "Literally."
"Okay. I'm in." He grunted slightly as he turned to her on the couch.
"Are you ok..."
"I'm just..."
"Jetlagged. You said that. Except it looks like you're in pain."
"Nothing I can't handle. The question is... What can you handle? We can call this the speed round."
She sighed and decided to drop it, knowing Linda would be after him soon enough. She folded one knee under her and faced him. "How long did I live in Star City?"
"Six months."
"What did I do there?"
"You lived with us for a bit until you got your own place, just after the wedding."
"And I worked at The Sentinel?"
"Yes. But you hated it. Mutual hatred there. You didn't like their editor and he didn't like your penchant for writing positive stories on that vigilante known as the Green Arrow."
She smiled again. "Guess I have a soft spot for heroes."
He smiled back. "Some more than others."
That damned elephant... She pushed Clark away. "Why did I leave?"
"Because it looked like Lex Luthor was getting out of the loony bin with a mess of lies and you wanted to be near to control the damage."
She nodded, frowning. Luthor figured into things more and more, it seemed. It made her wonder how she could have been so blind...
"Plus, The Daily Planet seemed to be hiring," Ollie went on, "and that's one paper you can't seem to resist."
She smiled at that. "Still can't. But wouldn't they know me if I used to..."
"I took care of that. Made a few calls. Made sure the right people got better offers, except... Well, one straggler that wouldn't go. A photographer."
"Jimmy Olsen," she said, pursing her lips. "He said he... He didn't like me when I started."
"From what Linda told me, Grady took care of that."
"I wish he hadn't," Lois said pensively. "If he hadn't, I might never have known what he did and I might never have... I don't know. There's this part of me that wants to hate him for it, but I... I can't seem to bring myself to. I mean, if I volunteered, I don't have the right to feel so..."
"Violated?"
She nodded. "That's the feeling."
"I think you have every right. You couldn't have known what you were getting into. How it would affect a mind that always has to know."
"But I still did this!" She stood. "If a person goes bungee jumping and gets themselves killed, isn't it their fault for taking the chance in the first..." She stopped at a loud beeping.
"Okay." Ollie stood. "We're done."
"No. We aren't done." She shook her wrist. "I'm just a little upset. I can power through and... stupid thing. I'm really fine. Just..."
"Lois, it's okay to admit when it gets to be too much. No one's judging you."
"Well, I am." She groaned and flopped onto the couch. "I just want it all and right now. Is that too much to ask?"
Ollie sat on the coffee table in front of her. "The obvious answer is yes. We all want to tell you as much as you want to know, maybe even more." He squeezed her knee. "We've missed our Watchtower."
"Watchtower?"
"Just a little nickname for the girl that... Well, she kept us all in line in a way."
"But what does it m..."
"Just forget that for now and... know that we missed you."
She blinked back the sudden moisture in her eyes. "I... I think I might have missed you all, too. I... just didn't know what I was missing."
He patted her knee and stood. "I think you should lay down and get some rest for a while. I should go check in with the others and..."
"Don't go," she said quickly. She stood as well, remembering there was another reason for him to stay. "Linda will be back soon and..."
"Oh, but I really have to..." His eyes widened and he moved to the door. "You know, Victor said he had some important things to go over and he's probably..."
"Victor was just here," she broke in, dogging his steps. "And he never said anything about that."
"Well, that's League business," Ollie said. "Just between me and Vic, so..."
"Ollie, I won't ask you anything, but just stay. You and Linda really need to..."
"It's great how you're holding up and all," he said brightly. "Call you later."
"But..." She stared at the closed door. How in the world were Linda and Ollie ever to talk if neither of them would stay put? She trudged to her room, thinking Ollie was right about one thing. Between getting up to puke last night and waking early today, she could stand to lay down.
When her head hit the pillow, she found herself annoyed at all the... quiet.
She should be glad for some alone time, but after a week cooped up, she welcomed the company. It was nearly... festive. She hadn't had people over much... not that she would remember if she had. Still, it nearly felt like having holiday visitors. Christmas was coming, after all. It was almost nice to think of it that way instead of having to cram her life into days of study because she was stupid enough to throw it away in the first...
Maybe that was exactly why she didn't want to be alone. Despite the relief that she hadn't been a villain of the first order, she didn't think much of herself. Why else would half her dreams be spent being berated by... herself? The crazy thing was that it didn't seem at all crazy now. She knew what the girl was going through. What pitiful excuse for a reporter can't even handle some light espionage and mad science? She was right with the dream girl there. Whatever her friends had to say, neither Chloe Sullivan nor the present Lois Lane weren't too into that other one that decided to toss her life down...
There was a faint, yet persistant rapping from the living room. "Oh, thank God." She threw the covers back and shuffled out of her room. If she had to deal with herself another second, she really would go nuts.
The rapping grew louder. "Coming, Linda." She pulled open the door and... "Pammie?"
"Oh, you're alive, then." Pammie pushed past her and inside. "Very nice to know as I have been worried sick."
"I'm sorry if I..."
Pammie threw her purse on the couch. "I get a drunken phone call from you talking about secret labs and cab rides and then nothing."
She shook her head, hazily remembering it. "I never meant to..."
"You don't know how many of Mikey's privileges I had to abuse to find your address." She marched to the phone on Lois' end table and picked it up. "So it does work. I was wondering since you never called to..."
"Pammie, I really am sorry. There's just been so much going on that I..."
"Yes. Lounging in your pajamas takes up far too much time."
"But I've really been..."
"I'm back. I'm back." Lois turned to see Linda standing in her open door, laden with bags and panting. She barely had time to speak before Linda had her in a death grip. "I would have been here sooner, but I had so much to do." Linda released her and she nearly stumbled back. "But I got you a presents." She dug into one bag and pulled out a small tub. "This one's a pore minimizing mask. You don't even want to know what's in it, but trust me, it'll..."
"Linda, you shouldn't be running up stairs in your condition." Lois looked over Linda's shoulder as Martha gasped for breath in the hall, laden with bags herself. "I'm getting too old to chase after you kids."
"The elevator was taking too long and my baby cousin needed..." She looked past Lois. "Hey, I know you." Lois found herself holding a tub and four bags as Linda moved to Pammie. "You're that lady from Evil Stepford."
"Metropolis Vista," Lois hissed.
"Yeah. I meant that. Didn't my cousin do a great story on that? Did you read it?"
Pammie opened her mouth several times. "Well, I..."
"I'll take those, Honey." Lois found her load lightened as Martha Kent took the bags with hers, putting them to the side of the door before turning and embracing her. "I wish you'd been up earlier to come with us. If anyone deserves a spa day, it's you, after everything."
Lois wasn't so sure what she deserved. "Just as well. I had a full morning, anyway." She gave a weak smile.
"I can see that," Martha said, brushing back her hair. "What in the world have they done to you?"
"Wireless electrode. Has a matching bracelet."
"You kids and your fashion." Martha shook her head. "Just teasing."
Lois found herself smiling for real. "I hope you had a good time," she said, meaning it.
"It was a little tedious, not that Linda isn't good company, but the conversation can be a little..."
"You're husband's a congressman?" Linda was saying. "I didn't know that. I'm a political wife, too."
"Oh, that's..."
"Don't you just hate the wardrobe? I mean, I know it's expected, but so drab. I remember the days when I could leather pants and nobody thought anything of it. And if I have one more luncheon with dried chicken breast and green beans almondine, I'll..."
"One-sided," Martha finished on a whisper as Linda chattered on. "Linda, please let the poor woman breathe and help me sort out these bags. I don't know what's what. You shouldn't have bought me all this gook."
"Of course I should have," Linda protested. "How are you supposed to have a new night regimen without the proper..."
"Who wants pizza?" Bart was in the doorway with at least five pizza boxes. "Oh... Hey, Lin. Whoa, Mrs. K! Love the new hair." Bart took her hand. "Will the lovely ladies join me for lunch? I must have seen you coming because I got a wide variety. Sped back as fast as I could just for..."
"Bart," Martha cut in, extracting her hand. "We have company. And thank you."
"Hey!" He noticed Pammie. "When I said sped, I meant I broke a few traffic laws and..."
"Lovely," Linda broke in. "Her husband, the congressman, will be so pleased."
Bart pursed his lips. "When I said I broke a few traffic laws, I meant..."
"Bart..." Lois pushed him to the kitchen. "Why don't you just quit while you're ahead... behind... whatever."
Bart shrugged, then balanced his pizzas. "Will a slice buy your silence?" he asked Pammie.
"Well... sure."
Lois moved toward Pammie as Linda and Martha hovered over their bags and Bart moved to the kitchen. "Welcome to Grand Central Station." She sighed. "So... I had a talk with my friends."
Pammie nodded. "I see."
"This was actually the first time I've been close to being alone all day."
"If I'd known, I'd never have intruded on your..."
"Oh, no." Lois took her hand. "I'm... glad you're here. I never wanted to worry you. I'm... I'm glad everyone's here." She took a deep breath, smelling pizza and beauty products and lovely chaos. "I'm not much for solitude right now."
**************************
"Of course, I'm going to talk to him. Can't a woman have some lunch first? But stop changing the subject."
"I think the subject needed a change." off me and on someone else. Linda, however, wasn't on board. "I only told you so you would understand if she mentions it, but I asked her not to. I just... don't even want to talk about me and whatever cowardly things I might have done. I just... I just want to have a nice, normal lunch."
"But why would you tell a near stranger..."
"Because she was a near stranger. I needed perspective and... You know what? It's done and I see no point in talking about it."
"Well, I know it's done, but..."
"I am a grown-up, Linda."
"I'm perfectly aware you're a grown-up," Linda hissed, stirring a pitcher. "I'm just saying that, in the future, you shouldn't go blabbing your business to every Tom, Dick, and... Pammie."
"Linda, it's not like I told her anything that wasn't mine to tell." Lois grabbed some ice cubes from the freezer and handed them to Linda. "I was going crazy and I needed to talk to someone."
"What about me? I was only a few blocks aw..."
"I didn't see you as an option at the time. You know that. Besides, I'm glad I did. I have to have my own friend that I can confide in. I'm not like you." Lois started out, but Linda blocked her way.
"What does that mean?"
"Well, you guys are like this... commune. You all hang out together like this band of secret friends and I... I don't know. Maybe if nothing had changed, I would be content with that, not having any friends outside the group..."
"Whoa-ho." Linda leaned on the counter. "I'm not just some hero hag, I have plenty of regular friends."
Lois crossed her arms. "Okay. I'll bite. Like who?"
"Irene," Linda said, lifting her chin.
"Irene who?"
"Irene Melcher."
"You mean Doctor Melcher?" Lois rolled her eyes. "That's your therapist."
"Well, I can confide in her, can't I?"
"My point is that if one good thing has come from me throwing my life away, it's Pammie."
"Throwing your..."
"I have a normal friend and I'm keeping her. Just give her a chance." Lois moved around Linda and out of the kitchen. She wanted a normal friend. She wanted a normal time. A normal lunch where people talked about normal things. "More iced tea's coming," she announced... normally.
"I hope Linda didn't sugar it up too much," Martha said. "That girl has such a sweet tooth lately."
"I hope she did," Bart said, munching on what had to be his ninth slice. "Lois, I saved you some mushroom and sausage. Mrs. K was so about to steal it."
"I was not," Martha protested. "I only asked if it was taken."
"You be careful, Martha," Linda said, placing a pitcher in the middle of the table. "Election's two weeks away and those new suits are made to measure and we are not letting out the seams."
"Linda, relax. Not like one more slice'll..." Linda stared hard at Martha and she placed the pepperoni slice on Bart's plate, who didn't seem to mind.
"Election?" Pammie asked, helping herself to some pineapple ham.
"It's only town council," Martha mumbled. "I don't want a big fuss over..."
"It may be a far cry from the US senate," Linda cut in. "But this is your reentry into the political world and..."
"I knew it," Pammie burst out. The table grew silent. "Well, I... I thought I knew you. I mean, Lois said you were Kent's... Clark's mother, but I... I think we met at a state dinner a few years back. You're Jonathon Kent's widow. You took his seat when... I'm sorry." Pammie looked down. "I didn't mean to bring that up."
"It's alright." Martha patted her hand. "It was a long time ago. At any rate..." She sighed. "I'm running for office again, on a smaller scale."
"Do not denigrate that scale," Linda said, straightening. "This woman is single-handedly going to stop half a town from turning into a strip mall. or she would," Linda said, sitting back, "if she would stop being difficult and have a session with LoDato."
"LoDato?"
Linda turned to Pammie. "Best photographer in the city. But Martha thinks...'
"Linda, he wanted a picture of me going at a scale model with a sledgehammer."
"But it gets the massage out and..."
Lois sat back and breathed in the normal. Pizza, iced tea, heated arguments... Well, it just wouldn't be lunch with Linda without that. Still, it was nice to focus on things beside herself.
"... downright silly," Martha was saying.
"Well, I think it's fresh and edgy," Linda said. "You need to step out of..."
"I'm not edgy and neither is my town. I just want something simple."
"Then you should go to Rosenberg," Pammie offered.
"Rosenberg?"
"Bev Rosenberg. She's done some shots for Mikey. Nothing fancy, but she knows how to light properly. Made Mikey look ten years younger wihtout any makeup."
Martha leaned forward. "See, I'd rather not have anything fancy, myself. And... well, I'm all for looking younger."
Pammie shook her head. "I'm sure you don't need to worry about that. You can't be past forty-five."
Martha waved her hand. "Don't be ridiculous. Or... do. Just keep it coming."
Pammie smiled. "Well, Bev would have a lot to work with, what with your coloring. And she isn't expensive at all, so..." There was a loud beeping. Lois wondered what the hell must have set her off when she realized it was coming from Pammie. "Oh...." Pammie pulled her cell out of her pocket and pressed a button. "That's my alarm. I have to go. Dorothy has early-out on Mondays."
Lois stood. "Pammie, I just want to apologize again for having worried..."
"Sweetie, really. I understand." Pammie leaned in to hug her. "I'm just glad you're okay." she whispered. "I like your friends, but... I was just wondering..." She pulled back, her voice still low. "Clark's mother is such a nice woman and so fond of you, are you sure you two are just..."
"Don't want to be late, Pammie," Lois said quickly, still trying to shove that damned elephant out of the room.
"It was lovely meeting you all," Pammie said to the table.
Bart stood. "Likewise, Mrs. Sharp. Anyone who likes their pizza Hawaiian is okay with me. Oh... and I'll try the avocado and bacon."
"And fresh tomato," Pammie added. "And just a dash of cilantro." She turned to Linda. "Be sure to look up Rosenberger if you..."
"Yes. We'll certainly consider this... Bev person." Linda straightened. "But we have four more photographers to meet with before..."
"Actually, I think I'd like to go with Pammie's girl," Martha put in, standing. "Let me walk you out and I'll get her info, so..."
"B-but, Martha..." Linda stood as well. "We have four more..."
"Linda, Linda," Martha patted her back. "I'll get all the info from Mrs. Sharp here, myself. The important thing is that we have no more photographers to meet with today and you have nothing to do," Martha took her chin, "but talk to your husband." She kissed her cheek. "So do it."
Linda sat hard as Martha followed Pammie out.
Lois started gathering plates.
"Well... love your normal girlfriend," Linda grunted. "Except for how she stole my candidate."
"Oh, she did not. She just helped out a little."
Bart picked up a pizza box. "Should I wrap this or..."
"Don't bother." Lois groaned. "I don't want anymore pizza."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Bart said, sitting down and arranging the remaining slices on his plate.
"Well, I thought Pammie was very high-handed," Linda sniffed, gathering glasses. "Just forcing Martha to go with some random photographer, upsetting the... order of things."
"I like her," Bart said, munching on some crust. "She's a foodie and that's my kinda people. And you can only trust a woman who's more... well-rounded on what's good to eat. Boy, if she were single..."
"Bart, don't be crude," Linda said.
"I was saying we'd hit the restaurants. God! The woman's old enough to be my.., aunt or something." he chewed thoughtfully. "But I don't mind me a zaftig woman. Take you..." He gestured to Linda. "I think you look way better since you put on a few."
Linda gasped and set down the glasses with clatter, rushing into Lois' room.
"Oh, Bart," Lois groaned.
"What? It was a compliment."
Lois sighed, rushing after Linda. She found her on her stomach on her bed.
Lois closed the door. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing," Linda said into the pillow. "Just tired."
Lois sat on the edge of her bed. "Linda, maybe it's a good thing you don't have to think about Martha right now."
Linda lifted her head. "What? I'm a political consultant and it's all I..."
"Maybe I should rephrase that," Lois said carefully. "Linda, maybe you should stop using every little excuse to avoid talking to Oliver."
Linda sat up. "I have every intention of..."
"Putting it off indefinitely?" Lois cut in.
"No. Just... I thought you wanted to have a normal lunch."
"Discussing my cousin's not-so-secret pregnancy is pretty damned normal for me. Downright humdrum."
Linda stood from the bed. "Fine. Lunch is over. Normal's over. If we're talking about avoiding, then you just take a minute and... turn that pointy finger around, Missy. Let's talk about you and your snide little comments."
"I was never snide to you."
"Not to me. You keep throwing out little snips about throwing your life away and being a coward and then you just waltz off like that's... nothing."
"I told you. I don't want to talk about me right..."
Linda stood. "I'm going, okay? I'll go. But first I want to know why you're like this. I mean, I thought we had an understanding last night. I thought you were going to go into this more... openly. Not whining or beating yourself up or calling yourself..."
"A coward?" Lois threw up her hands. "Why not? It fits. From all accounts, I uncovered some Lex Luthor project and couldn't even handle what I found."
"That's not from any account. What the hell kind of accounts are you..."
"I can't even handle it now. One bit of truth and this glorified egg timer goes off and... I don't want to be this way." She took a deep breath. "You know, I understood this before. When I thought I did something awful, then it... made some weird sense. I even thought, then, that I could understand even Luthor doing it. Because who would want to know what they truly were? But now I get why she's so mad at me..."
"Who..." Linda shook her head. "You aren't even making sense. I'm not mad at you. Nobody's mad at you. Jesus. Just sit down..."
"I don't feel like..."
"Sit!"
Lois did, forcing herself to breathe deep. She'd smash the thing if she heard one stupid beep...
"First of all," Linda said. "Luthor didn't choose what happened to him. I don't know how exactly things went down because the one person who could've explained it..." She shook herself. "Doesn't matter. Most of us consider that a blessing, more so than what happened to you."
"This didn't happen to me," Lois said softly. "I did it."
"You know, we're still looking into... It doesn't even matter if you did it or not," Linda said firmly. "It's done. But even if you did it..." Linda sat down on the bed. "How could you think you were a coward?"
"Aren't I? I know what happened at Ruby Ridge. I think I've seen worse, even in this last month and..."
"Don't you start making assumptions. You don't even know half of what happened."
"Well, don't bother telling me. I obviously can't handle it." She pulled at her wristband.
"Oh, screw that stupid thing," Linda said.
"You were the one that had them..."
"Well, why does anyone listen to me, anyway? I'm the idiot that can't even talk to her own husband. Here..." Linda grasped Lois' wrist and pulled at the velcro, tossing it to the floor. She then went for the electrode on Lois' temple.
"Ow!"
"Oh. Sorry. Got some hair." Linda tossed it down with a grimace. "Part of this is probably my fault. I think I maybe... have to stop worrying about what you can and can't hear."
"No. It's fine. You know what happened. I don't even..."
"I'm still going to worry, believe me, but... I think we can start leaving the decisions up to you. I think you know best how you feel."
"Me? I know nothing."
"You know who you are now. You know you want some... normalcy. You know you can see some pretty sick things and not just go on, but tell the tale. You know enough to think you were a coward. I personally don't think you were, but if you think you were a coward then, then just... don't be one now. Don't start analyzing everything and making stupid leaps just... take it in. Ask me."
"I want to know..." Her throat closed up and hse squeezed her eyes shut.
"Lois..." Linda took her hand. "I'll tell you anything you want to know. All you have to do is ask me."
Lois breathed deep and sat back against the pillows. "How did it start?"
"You might have to be more specific."
"Ruby Ridge. How did it start?"
"Well... I don't exactly have Lex Luthor's blue prints, but... I guess, for me, it started when you went away to Maine. You'd quit your job and emptied your savings and you were being so secretive, then. I hardly knew what to make of you. From what I know now, you were working with the boys, trying to nail down exactly what Lex Luthor had his hand in. But you seemed so lost. Even when you came back, it was like you weren't there. You..."
Previous Chapter
Chapter Thirty-Two
Note: Here's where Linda would be giving her view of the events of Almost Chloe. I'll spare you a full-on recap as you've read the thing. I really dont want Lois' learning of all the details to take up too much time in a fic that, I'll admit, seems to dwell way too heavily on the details sometimes (becoming soooo damned long).
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