Hi FoLCs!

   Here is the update of new fic (gathered typically through Thursday evening). 
Links on the L&C Message Board Fanfic Index page at
http://www.geocities.com/mb_indices/lnc.html


   New stories:
   Coffee at the Bakery by Dandello



   New part(s) posted:
   Love Survives (Sequel to Smallville Style) by rkn
  Wedding Rearrangement by Nan Smith


   Completed stories:
   Coffee at the Bakery by Dandello
  Men of Steele by Henry (completed on Fanfic MBs)



   New TOCs for Current/Recent Stories:
   None


   New/Revised TOCs for Previously Posted Stories:
   None


   Added to the Archive:
   Smallville Style by rkn


   Enjoy!
   Dawn & The Crew

---------------------------------
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Hi FoLCs!

   Here is the update of new fic (gathered typically through Thursday evening). 
Links at http://www.geocities.com/mb_indices/mbindex.html


   New stories:
   Always by Sammie
  Coffee at the Bakery by Dandello
  Foundations by Caroline K.
  Game Challenge by Various
  Gone the Rainbow by Catherine Bruce
  The Green, Green Haunting of Home by Terry Leatherwood
  KRY-TV by Queen of the Capes
  Men Of Steele 2 by Henry
  Sequel to TOGOM by Catherine Bruce
  Whispers in the Key of Love by LaraMoon



   New parts posted:
   Begin the Begin by SamEggert
  Heaven by Sheila
  Honeymoon in... Vegas by Sue S.
  House of Cards by MetroRhodes
  The Longest Road: The Long Road Home by Raconteur
  Love Survives by rkn
  Mad Dog Lane, Ultra Woman, Et alii by Framework4
  Million Little Pieces by angelic_editor
  Nine Lives by Marcus Rowland
  Remember When It Rained by Anna (aka PrincessAnna)
  Strong by Shayne Terry
  Ten Years in the Making by anonpip
  Wedding Rearrangement by Nan Smith


   Completed stories:
   Always by Sammie
  Coffee at the Bakery by Dandello
  Gone the Rainbow by Catherine Bruce
  The Green, Green Haunting of Home by Terry Leatherwood
  Heaven by Sheila
  KRY-TV by Queen of the Capes
  Sequel to TOGOM by Catherine Bruce
  Whispers in the Key of Love by LaraMoon


   New TOCs for Current Stories:
   Always by Sammie
  Coffee at the Bakery by Dandello
  Foundations by Caroline K.
  Gone the Rainbow by Catherine Bruce
  KRY-TV by Queen of the Capes
  Men Of Steele 2 by Henry
  Sequel to TOGOM by Catherine Bruce
  Whispers in the Key of Love by LaraMoon



   New TOCs for Completed Stories including Comments folders:
   None


   Added to the Archive:
   The Drabble Series #2: Weapon by Various
  Frozen by Sue S.
  The Intern by Marcus Rowland
  Security by Sue S.
  Smallville Style by rkn
  Something to Talk About by Laura S.


   Enjoy!
   Dawn & the Index Crew

---------------------------------
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photos & more.

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Wedding Rearrangement: 3/?
by Nan Smith

**********

"Jake, huh?" Jonathan Kent grinned and glanced out the window at the
gravel road leading to the highway that passed the Kent farm at some
distance from the house. "Don't worry. If your friend shows up again,
I'll deal with him. But I thought I taught you better than that, son."
He shook his head more in sorrow than in anger. "Why in heaven's name
didn't you send him out to Porcupine Gulch?"

"It seemed like kind of a long way," Clark explained. "I wasn't sure
he'd go for it. Besides, I didn't want searchers to find his bleached
bones there next summer."

"I suggested we bury him in Martha's garden," Lois offered.

Jonathan snorted. "Not a good idea. We want the garden to keep producing
vegetables. I'm not sure he'd make good fertilizer; you remember the
Intelligencer, don't you, Clark?"

Clark made a face. "It's kind of a local version of the National
Whisper," he explained to Lois. "And almost the same quality."

"Still," Jonathan said, "he may not give directions to the other
reporters. He isn't going to want a bunch of competition."

"He'll probably do it just for the nuisance value," Lois said. "What are
we going to do? "

"Well..." Martha, who had remained silent up until now, spoke up. "If
Maher comes back asking for Jake, you can watch me do my best imitation
of Maw Clampett. By the time I'm through with him, he'll be over at the
hospital, getting his stomach pumped."

"Mom, you can't poison him!" Clark said. "A joke's a joke, but --"

"I don't intend to," Martha said, placidly. "I'll just serve him some of
my beef stew that I'm going to make for dinner tomorrow. It won't be my
fault if he thinks it's 'possum tails and skunk livers.' Or not much,
anyway."

Lois managed to limit the guffaw that threatened to break loose to an
odd-sounding choke. She had no doubt that Martha would do exactly as she
said. If any reporters did manage to find the Kents, she had a strong
suspicion that they were going to regret it. Two days on the Kent farm
had definitely changed her opinion of country folks. She'd be willing to
match them up against the residents of Metropolis -- or any other city
-- any day of the week and bet heavily on Jonathan and Martha.

"And I'll deal with any questions about Jake," Jonathan said. "Don't
worry about that. You, however, need to be somewhere else," he added
firmly. "I'd suggest you take Lois sightseeing in some of the nearby
towns -- or go to the library over in Pepper. Nobody's going to be
looking for you there."

"That's an idea," Lois said. "Do they have computers in the Pepper
library -- and who the heck names a town Pepper, anyway?"

"I have no idea," Martha said. "If it were me, I'd have named it Zucchini."

Clark cast her a sharp glance, and it took Lois a moment to realize,
from the innocent expression on her face, that Clark's mother was joking.

"Actually," Clark said, "they named it Pepper because a big part of its
agriculture production a hundred years ago was different kinds of
peppers. For some reason the climate there is ideal for growing peppers
-- or was -- so that was what they named the town."

"Oh," Lois said. "How come I never heard about it before?"

"Well," Clark said, "its main crop isn't peppers anymore. The Dust Bowl
conditions kind of wiped out their pepper industry. They still grow some
peppers but not nearly in the quantity they used to. Their cash crop is
mostly wheat."

"Oh," Lois said. Clark, naturally, would know such trivia. Superman must
have the time for a tremendous amount of reading, considering his super
speed and photographic memory. She wondered what other talents he hadn't
thought to mention to her. Getting to know all there was to know about
Clark was going to be a lifetime job. The thought made her smile.

"You can look up the history in their library if you want to," Martha
said, bringing her thoughts back to the current problem. "I agree with
Jonathan -- it would be better for you two not to be around if Mr. Maher
comes back, especially if he lets it be known that he's found the farm.
I think you should pack up your stuff and head for Pepper, or one of the
other towns around here. Maybe check into a motel or camp out by
Callahan's Creek or maybe even at the lake for two or three days. I know
the idea of camping probably doesn't set too well with you right now,
but if you take along enough supplies, and so forth, it won't be
anything like the walk through the mountains. Just be sure you have a
cell phone with you."

"We don't have any. Perry wanted to get them for us so we could report
from the field," Lois said unhappily. "Unfortunately, that was about the
time Lex started his campaign to bankrupt the Planet so he could buy it,
so we never got them."

"That's all right," Martha said. "You can borrow mine. You can call us
if you need to and we can call you when we're sure the coast is clear
again. We've got plenty of camping gear. We used to take Clark there on
weekend camping trips. There's a camping area out there for families to
camp and swim and hike and so forth. And you can always camp on the
beach, too."

Clark looked doubtfully at Lois. "What do you think?"

"Well --" Lois considered the idea dubiously. "I kind of overdosed on
camping out the last few days, but if we've got all the supplies we'll
need --" The thought of the mob of frenzied reporters, all trying to
claw their way to her at the Ranger station -- not to mention the
assassin who had tried to kill her -- tipped her decision in favor of
the expedition. "I guess we could manage it for a day or two."

"And, Jonathan pointed out, "Clark will have plenty of time in the sun.
Maybe a few good tanning sessions will be enough to recharge his powers."

"What does the sun have to do with it?" Lois asked.

"I seem to absorb sunlight," Clark explained. "If I'm using my super
powers a lot at night, I start to feel tired sooner than if I'm doing
the same thing in the daylight. Dr. Klein, at STAR Labs, thinks
Superman's powers come from sunlight. He was going to run some tests but
then I got distracted by the things that have happened in the last few
weeks and we didn't get around to it."

"Oh," Lois said. "Speaking of your powers, how are you feeling now? He
lifted the engine block for your old tractor," she added, to Jonathan.
"He's definitely stronger than he was yesterday."

"Yeah," Clark said, "but it was heavy. My powers are coming back, but
awfully slowly. The other time, with Trask, they came back all at once."

"That time," his father said, "you were exposed to the stuff for a few
minutes at most. You weren't stuck in a cage made of Kryptonite for
hours on end, and you didn't get sick from the radiation --"

"We don't *know* that's what made me sick," Clark said.

"Don't quibble," Martha said. "Can you think of anything else that would
be likely to make you that sick?"

"Well --"

"Exactly," his mother said, in what Lois had come to recognize as her
"no argument" tone of voice. "You've never been sick a day in your life
except this once. I think we can assume the Kryptonite caused it."

"Yeah, probably. I'm just worried that my powers won't come back all the
way," Clark said. "I didn't realize how much I missed being Superman
until they were gone."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Martha said briskly.
"Don't be a pessimist, honey. All we know right now is that you're
starting to get some of your powers back. In the meantime, let's get the
camping gear out and pack everything you'll need in your rental car.
I'll fix lunch so you don't have to stop for food. The less you're seen
anywhere around Smallville the better -- at least for two or three days."

**********

Pepper looked very much like Smallville, Lois thought, except it was
actually smaller. Clark drove slowly down Main Street, past the greenery
of a wide lawn surrounding an incongruously small City Hall, while Lois
took in the tiny, farming town.

A pre-adolescent boy swooped past on a bicycle, cutting in front of the
car so close that Lois inhaled sharply, half-expecting the thump of the
bumper impacting with the bicycle and its rider. Clark swerved,
simultaneously applying the brake. The tires squealed in protest at such
treatment, but the boy escaped death by inches. The child never glanced
back but rode on, apparently unaware of the incident.

"It's a wonder to me how they ever manage to grow up," Lois said. "What
are the odds that a kid can pull something like that over and over and
somehow never get killed? It's a good thing you've got fast reflexes."

"I think they're getting better," Clark said after a pause.

"Your reflexes?"

"Yes. They're better than they were, but they're not back to normal."

"Give it time," Lois said quietly, putting a hand on his where it rested
on the gearshift. "Your mom is a smart lady."

"I know," Clark said. "I guess after my hearing started coming back
yesterday, I just kind of expected to be back to normal by today."

"Well, just because things don't work out like you expect, it doesn't
mean they won't come out okay," Lois told him. "And I'm not trying to
play Pollyanna, either. You don't know any more about this than I do,
really. If you're no stronger or faster tomorrow than you are today,
*then* you can begin to worry, but I think you've been improving ever
since you got over that fever. Remember when we were walking through the
forest, that night before we found the helicopter? You could see, even
though I couldn't. I think your powers were beginning to come back, and
have been slowly but steadily getting better ever since. It's just
happening gradually."

Clark appeared to think that over and slowly nodded. "You could be
right," he said after a moment of strict attention to his driving. "I
didn't think about it, but maybe ...."

"Good," Lois said. "So, where are we going right now?"

"Well," Clark said, "I thought we'd go over to the library. You said
earlier that you wanted to get to a computer."

"I did, didn't I?" Lois said. "I don't know if it'll do me any good. I
know Henderson's looking for 'The Mrs.' I probably don't stand a chance.
I just wanted to see if Lex was married before. He said I was the only
one, but he lied about everything else, so why not that?"

"Why don't you call Jimmy?" Clark suggested. "If anybody can ferret out
something like that, it's him."

"That's a good idea. Is there a pay phone around anywhere?"

"Sure. There's one at the service station."

**********

Jimmy Olsen was working on the assignment given to him by his editor
when the phone on his desk rang.

A little surprised, he picked up the receiver. "Olsen."

"Jimmy?" Lois Lane's voice said.

"Just a minute." Jimmy lowered his voice instinctively. He knew that
Lois and Clark had gone to Smallville, since he had been the one to make
arrangements for Perry to rent the car for them in his name, but his
boss had stressed that he was to keep the information to himself. That
psychiatrist, Arianna Carlin, had asked him casually about Lois and
Clark, and Jimmy had told her all kinds of unimportant things about the
two of them, but claimed ignorance of their whereabouts. He glanced
cautiously around, locating the woman. She was in her office -- the
smallest conference room the Planet had, which had been quickly
converted for her use. He could see her typing something -- probably
that column of hers that had replaced the jumble puzzle in the paper.

Cat was no longer here, of course. She had taken a job with the Star
right after the bombing of the Planet, but the new guy, Ralph
whatsisname, was lounging by the water cooler. In Jimmy's opinion, Perry
had made a mistake hiring him to replace Jerry, who had reported on
local politics for the paper. He spent most of his time gossiping and
hitting on the women in the secretarial pool. Jimmy didn't like him.
He'd even tried to extract some gossip about Lois from Jimmy, and Jimmy
had politely told him to mind his own business. He didn't want Ralph to
find out that Lois had called. It would be all over the Planet building
inside of fifteen minutes.

But the guy was out of earshot as long as he kept his voice down.
Keeping a discreet eye on the traffic near his desk, Jimmy cupped his
hand over his lips and the receiver, although no one seemed to be paying
him any attention. Sometimes it was a good thing to be nearly the bottom
man on the totem pole. "Lois?" he asked softly, "is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," Lois said. "I was wondering if you could do something
for me."

"Sure," Jimmy said.

"The thing about 'The Mrs.' gave me an idea. Do you think you could do
some research into Lex's background and find out if he'd ever been
married before?"

"Not a problem," Jimmy said. "In fact, I was just starting it when you
called. The Chief had the same idea that you did."

"He did? Good!" Lois's voice paused. "If you need to get hold of us for
the next couple of days, phone Clark's parents. They'll get the message
to us."

"Is something wrong?" Jimmy asked quickly.

"Not exactly. One of the reporters looking for us finally found the
farm, so Clark and I are going camping for a few days. I have a cell
phone and Clark's parents can get hold of us if you need them to."

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay. I'll let Perry know."

"Great," Lois said.

"Uh -- are you and CK all right? You had a pretty rough time of it."

"We're fine," Lois said. "We'll have something important to tell you
when we get back next month."

"All right," Jimmy said. The speculations that remark conjured up were
definitely something to spark the imagination. He hadn't missed the fact
that CK had had a heavy crush on Lois since the day he was hired. Jimmy
had been upset that Lois and Luthor were getting married, but CK, he
thought, had been just about as bummed out as a man could get. He was
pretty sure that was what had made Clark so determined to prove that
Luthor was the criminal that all of them suspected he was. Maybe things
weren't as one-sided as he'd thought they were, after all, now that Lois
had come to her senses. "You two have a good time," he added.

"Well, I'm not so sure about this camping thing, but at least the media
hasn't caught up with us yet," Lois said. "Call the Kents if you find
anything, would you?"

"Will do," Jimmy told her.

"Thanks. Bye."

"Bye," he answered.

**********

"Something important?" Clark said, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Sure." Lois checked the change slot, on the off chance that there might
be loose change in it. To her gratification, she discovered a quarter,
which she dropped triumphantly into her pocket. "I don't want to tell
everybody, but I think Jimmy and Perry deserve to know that we're
getting married, after all they've done to help us out. I think Perry
might have been rooting for us all along. He's said a few things that
made me think he wasn't that happy about me marrying Lex."

"Well --" Clark grinned sheepishly. "I've kind of wondered about that,
myself."

"You know," Lois added, as they got back into the rental car, "one of
the things that made me decide on this camping trip was the idea of me
getting you all to myself for a couple of days -- without anybody around."

"We had that in the mountains," Clark pointed out.

"Yes, but we weren't engaged then," Lois said, clinching the argument.

"That's true," Clark agreed. "Maybe it will be a good sort of
experiment, finding out how we do together as an engaged couple."

"Maybe," Lois said. "Where is this camping spot that you and your
parents used to go to when you were a kid?"

"Over by Domino Lake," Clark said. "It's not that big a lake, but it's
the only real one in the area. Smallville Lake is about half the size --
sort of like a big pond, and it's got a picnic area but no camping
facilities. There's some woods with both a camping and picnic area at
Domino Lake -- people bring their campers and tents and stuff. There's
running water and restrooms, and little concrete pits where you can
build campfires -- and lots of privacy if you want it. There's swimming,
and hiking trails --"

"Sounds pretty civilized, compared to where we were," Lois commented.

"Yeah," Clark agreed. "There's bound to be a few other people around,
but they'll be in their own campsites, and we don't have to socialize if
we don't want to."

"That's fine with me," Lois said. "The people I've been around recently
haven't made me want to be a social animal again for a while -- except
for your parents," she amended. "At least they haven't mobbed me or
tried to kill me."

Clark laughed. "I'm glad of that," he said. He started the engine.
"Shall we be on our way?"

"Let's." She fastened the seat belt. "There's not any poison ivy around
there, is there?"

"A little," he admitted. "We'll just have to be careful."

"You mean *I'll* have to be careful," she said.

"I'm not so sure of that," he said. "Who knows whether I'll react to
poison ivy now."

"Did you ever break out from it before you got your powers?"

"No, but I was careful to stay away from it."

"Believe me, it's not possible to stay completely away from it if it's
anywhere around. All you can do is try your best, wear stuff that covers
you up mostly and wash a lot. If you're lucky, you don't get it."

"I thought you never went camping."

"I was a Girl Scout."

"Oh." He glanced sideways at her. "Is that why you knew how to start
fires while we were stranded?"

"No. I read about using a magnifying glass to start a fire in General
Science. I had to take it in my freshman year at Metro High."

"Oh," he said. "I guess I probably did, too -- but I didn't think about
it. I'm too used to using my heat vision."

"Well, it doesn't matter," Lois said. "This time we have matches and
lighter fluid, and a bunch of other stuff. Do you know how to pitch a tent?"

"Sure," he said. "Didn't they teach you in Girl Scouts?"

Lois shook her head. "No. The tents were already pitched for us when we
got there."

"Oh. Well, I guess I can teach you," Clark said with a grin. The smile
faded as he glanced sideways at her. "Have I mentioned today that I've
been in love with you from the day we met?"

"No." She felt her cheeks warming. "Were you really?"

He turned back to watch the road. "Yes. Everyone knew it, too -- even
Luthor. He knew that Clark Kent loved you -- and he knew that Superman
did, too. I guess I'm lucky that he didn't put two and two together."

"That's for sure." Lois regarded her hands, clasped in her lap. "I wish
I'd seen it before -- I wish I'd *let* myself see it before. It would
have saved us so much trouble if I'd been smart enough to know how I
felt that afternoon in the park. I could have turned Lex down and saved
you all of this."

Clark slipped a hand over her clasped ones. "Stop beating up on
yourself," he said.

"I'm not --"

"Yes you are," he said. "You've been blaming yourself for what happened
to me, and for all the rest of it, ever since you found out the truth.
None of it was your fault. Luthor was determined to have you, one way or
another. Knowing that Superman wanted you, too, just added spice to the
contest. You didn't blow up the Planet, you didn't cause it to go nearly
bankrupt and you didn't lock me in a Kryptonite cage. Luthor did it --
all of it. You mustn't hold yourself responsible for his behavior. From
what we've learned since, that was just his standard way of doing
business. Besides, you're the one that's going to repair as much of it
as can be repaired. No one can ask for more than that."

She looked up from her clasped hands. Clark was staring at the road and
his jaw was set in the way she had seen Superman do countless times.
Clark did it too, although somehow it had seemed different on him.
Still, she should have seen it before; should have seen that the
superhero that she loved was the quiet, unassuming, amazing man who
worked next to her at the Daily Planet. She'd armored her heart against
love for so long that she'd had to settle on an unattainable super man
or a billionaire instead of the farmboy from Kansas. She should have
known that there was nothing ordinary about the farmboy, either --
especially when it dawned on her that facing the life of a socialite
without him was going to be unbearable. Why had she thought that such
pale things as liking and respect for the man that she had believed Lex
was could take the place of the love that she felt for Clark? With or
without Superman's powers, Clark was something more than special, and
she could only be grateful that when she had finally realized it, it was
not too late after all. And she owed that to Clark as well.

It took barely five minutes to travel from the heart of Pepper to its
outskirts. The buildings of the town were left behind and she saw that
they were driving between fields of waving yellow grain. In the distance
she could see a small building that was much too tiny to be a house, and
beyond that, some kind of machine with big tires and some kind of
windmill or something in front of it crunching through the tall stalks.
No doubt, if she asked Clark he could tell her what it was, but she
didn't. She sat back in the seat, trying to imagine an area with a lake
and campground in this wide, flat country where Clark had grown up.

It was barely half an hour before Clark turned off the main highway onto
an uneven gravel road and Lois realized that, for all the land's
apparent flatness, they were going downhill. The gravel road dropped
steadily until Lois could no longer see the grain fields. A short time
later, it crossed a narrow river on a bridge that made her hold her
breath until they safely reached the other side and then ran along
beside the river for as far as the eye could see.

Which, she realized, wasn't far. The narrow line of trees growing beside
the creek began to widen until the road was wending its way between
trees that grew on either side of the road. They must be entering the
camping area, Lois thought.

A dirt road crossed the gravel one and Clark turned onto it. The trees
were thicker, although they were nothing like the enormous pines that
they had seen during their hike through the mountains of Colorado. Clark
slowed the car down further, and Lois sat up straighter, looking around.

Little paths barely wide enough to accommodate the car branched off the
dirt road and at last Clark turned onto one or them. They went on
another ten minutes, jolting and bumping along the so-called road that
would have been better called a footpath, Lois thought, and finally it
came to an end in a small clearing. Clark pulled into the clearing,
parked the car by one side of it and cut the engine.

"We're here," he announced.

**********
tbc


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

William Henderson unlocked the door of his car, which was parked in the
Precinct's parking lot, and slid behind the wheel. The investigation
into "The Mrs." was proceeding slowly, as he had expected. This was the
organization built up by Lex Luthor, after all. The LexCorp Board of
Directors was dodging questions with the expertise of lawyers, which
wasn't surprising since most of them were lawyers, but he had the
feeling that he was onto something. The Board was battling frantically
to save something from the wreck of the company and apparently had
little time to waste with the police. At least, that was the impression
they gave. Henderson wasn't so sure. He'd asked to speak to Luthor's
successor, Richard Isakson, and been told that the new CEO was out of
the country at the moment, on company business, and would be happy to
schedule an appointment with him at a later date. The person speaking to
him, however, was unable to give an exact time for Mr. Isakson's return.
Luthor's former right hand man, a gentleman by the name of Flanagan,
seemed less than happy at the mention of Luthor's successor but
unwilling to talk about it. None of them, apparently, had heard of the
attempts on the lives of Luthor's widow and her writing partner, Clark
Kent, and all of them professed horror and disbelief at the story. None
of them would admit to knowledge of the search team in the LexCorp
helicopter, one member of which had apparently pulled a gun on Kent. For
a bunch of corporate lawyers, they seemed, at least to him, just a
little too pure to be believed.

Henderson fastened his seat belt and inserted his car key into the
ignition. As the engine kicked over with a sputter and then began to
purr, a familiar voice, with the strong accent prevalent in Metropolis's
Suicide Slum district, said, "The word is you wanna know about 'The
Mrs.', Inspector."

Henderson controlled his start of surprise with an effort and raised his
eyes to look into the rear-view mirror. The narrow face of a middle-aged
man looked smugly back at him.

"Well, well -- Bobby Bigmouth, as I live and breathe,” he said, after a
short pause. “How the devil did you get into my car?"

The individual in the back seat was long and lean, with the faint
impression of hunger about him, like a man who is constantly on a diet.
Henderson had occasionally had contact with him, although he didn't know
him well, but he knew of Bobby Bigmouth’s reputation as a reliable, if
somewhat exasperating, snitch, and he knew that Bobby's appetite was
legendary among Henderson's fellow officers.

"Trade secret," Bobby said. "I hear you're lookin' for information about
'The Mrs.' I can help you, for the price of a deli sandwich with all the
trimmings. And a promise to keep my name out of it."

"What are you up to?" Henderson inquired. "I've never known you to look
me up without a good reason."

"Hey," Bobby said. "A square meal is serious business -- but actually I
got another one. Let's just say I owe Lane a favor, and I don't like
bein' in debt -- okay?"

"All right," Henderson said. "One deli sandwich with all the trimmings
-- if the information's good. What have you got for me?"

"From what I hear, there's a contract out on Lane -- Special kind of
contract. It’s gotta look like an accident and only good until the
thirty day anniversary of Luthor's wedding. After that, it's off. I’m
guessing it’s got something to do with Luthor's will."

"We'd figured that," Henderson said.

"Yeah, well, maybe you don't know that The Mrs. has gotten into the
investigation herself. She's running Luthor's syndicate now. She's even
running the legit part of the business. All those lawyers on the Board
of Directors know they better toe the line if they want to live. You're
not gonna get any answers out of them."

"That's interesting," Henderson said slowly. "What kind of hold does she
have over them?"

"Same as Luthor did -- good old fear. Blackmail material, not to mention
their lives. Nobody crossed Luthor and lived. Same here. That plastic
surgeon that turned up dead in the dumpster this morning made the
mistake of knowin' too much."

"What's he got to do with it? What did he know?"

"Let's say that if Lois Lane turns up in Metropolis unexpectedly, you
might want to compare her fingerprints to the ones on file."

"How do you know I can?" Henderson inquired dryly.

Bobby just looked at him. "You're tellin' me you don't have Lois's
prints?" he inquired. "After the time you arrested her for trespassin'
on that rich guy's property five years ago?"

How the devil did Bobby know about that? Henderson wondered. "The owner
refused to press charges," he pointed out.

"So? That doesn't mean you tossed her prints," Bobby said.

"All right, supposing that's true," Henderson said, tacitly conceding
the point, "what can you tell me about the Mrs. that I don't know?"

"Her and Luthor divorced about ten years ago," Bobby said. "Rumor has it
they were married on a cruise ship. She wants Lane out of the picture
for good and the word is she sent one of Luthor's enforcers to
Smallville to try to get Kent's location out of his parents. I guess she
figures that if they can get their hands on Kent, he'll know where Lane
is -- if she's not with him." The snitch paused, probably for dramatic
effect.

"You got a name?" Henderson asked, wondering absently how and where
Bobby came up with this information.

Bobby shook his head regretfully. "They just call her 'The Mrs.', he
said, "and the enforcer don't have a name that anybody says out loud.
He's one of their best, though -- after the way the last ones screwed
up. If I could put a name on either one, I would."

"For dessert?" Henderson said dryly. "Anything else? The name of the
cruise ship would be handy."

Bobby managed to look wounded at the side comment, but he said, "Nope.
I’ll tellya what, though. I’ll do some snooping around and see if I can
come up with anything. If I find something else out, you'll know, but I
gotta be careful." He held out a hand. "That's got to be worth that
sandwich."

"Yeah." Henderson fished for his wallet and handed over a twenty. "There
you go. Buy what you want -- but if you find out anything else, be damn
sure you call me before you call anybody else, got it?"

"You got it, Inspector. Just keep my name out of it." Bobby opened the
rear door and got out. Henderson shook his head slowly as the
nondescript figure of the snitch ambled inconspicuously away. He'd get
the discretionary fund to reimburse him for Bobby's snitch fee, he
thought. It was interesting how Bobby had gotten into this thing without
anyone asking. Of course, there was the lure of the free meal but, oddly
enough, Henderson didn't think that had been the primary motive. Lois
Lane had the inexplicable ability to inspire plenty of loyalty in her
friends and acquaintances. Those that weren't plotting to kill her, of
course. They even did their best to protect her from herself. Perry
White, Kent and those two kids had sure worked their butts off to keep
her from marrying Luthor. Superman apparently had been involved, too. It
was too bad they hadn't been a little bit faster. If they had, Lane
wouldn't have assassins after her. He gave a faint snort. She wouldn't
be Lois Lane if she wasn't in *some* sort of trouble, he thought. He
supposed he'd better get in contact with the Smallville authorities and
tell them that they had a professional assassin heading their way. And
he'd better warn Kent, too. And then maybe Perry White could get the
Olsen kid to dig into Luthor's life, ten years back, and find out the
name of the ex-Mrs. Lex Luthor ....

**********

"That wasn't so hard," Lois said, trying not to pant. She stood back,
surveying the tent that she and Clark had spent the last hour setting
up. She glanced at her watch. "It's four-fifteen. What's next?"

"Now we can put on our swimsuits and go down to the lake," Clark said.
"There's still plenty of daylight left and it's just a short walk."

"How short?" Lois asked.

"Five minutes tops. This spot used to be our favorite because it was
close to the lake."

"Don't we need to get out the supplies or something?"

Clark shook his head. "They're safe where they are. It'll keep the
squirrels out of the food. Did Mom get you anything to swim in?"

"No," Lois said. "People might have wondered if your mom had bought
herself a bathing suit."

"Why?" Clark asked. "Mom swims when she comes here. Of course, she
usually uses scuba gear."

That figured. "Well, any scuba gear of your mom's would have been too
small for me. I figured I'd just use a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.
Will that do?"

"Sure," Clark said. "People swim in anything and everything here. My
favorite swimsuit when I was a kid was a pair of cut-off jeans. Why
don't I get the stuff and you can use the tent to change."

Lois had wondered how they were going to manage that, or, now that they
were engaged, if Clark would expect her to behave differently. Her farm
boy from Krypton seemed to be letting her decide where things were going
to go and how far, and, to tell the truth, she found that reassuring.
Lex had definitely been irked when she had expressed a desire to wait
until their wedding night, although he'd gone along with her wishes. If
Clark was disappointed, he wasn't letting on in any way. Unexpectedly,
she was a little let down by his behavior, but at the same time it took
off a good deal of the pressure. Clark hadn't even raised the subject,
so maybe he was waiting for her to do so. She supposed that she should,
sooner or later -- maybe tonight, while they were cooking dinner, she
thought. Just to clarify things, so there wouldn't be any misunderstandings.

Clark had gone to the car and was unlocking the trunk. She'd packed
everything Martha had bought for her in a big plastic bag in lieu of a
suitcase, and so had Clark.

"My stuff's on the left side," she told him.

"Okay." Clark pulled out her bag. "Here you go."

Inside the tent, she made quick work of changing into the outfit. Her
bra could stand lake water, she thought, and she now had four others as
well, so this one could certainly be sacrificed for swimming. She found
the pair of black shorts that Martha had picked up for her, and the
plain blue T-shirt, and changed her clothing.

Clark was waiting patiently when she emerged from the tent with the
beach towel that Martha had insisted on loaning her. "I'll be right
out," he said, and stepped inside the tent.

True to his word, he came out again only a couple of minutes later, clad
in a pair of tight cutoff jeans and minus his shirt. Lois had seen him
shirtless once before, when he had answered the door of his hotel room
wrapped in a towel and she recalled now that she had been very favorably
impressed with his build. She had seen him since, as Superman, in
skin-tight blue spandex, but without that thin barrier he seemed so much
-- well, more. She ran her gaze over the bare expanse of hairless chest
and flat middle, and found herself almost unable to look away. Well, why
not? she rationalized. She was engaged to marry him, after all. Why
shouldn't she look? He was certainly worth looking at. Especially half
dressed and wearing almost too-tight cut-offs.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Um ... yes, fine." She forced her gaze higher and looked him in the
eyes. "Just, um...admiring the view."

To her surprise, he looked uncertain and reached for his own towel.
"Maybe I should have borrowed Dad's trunks," he said. "These jeans seem
to have shrunk a bit."

"They're fine," she assured him, resolutely not glancing at the item of
clothing in question. "Besides, if you’d worn your dad's I might be
getting a view of a lot more of you than you wanted."

"Lo--is!" He sounded almost shocked, and her surprise turned to
amusement at the pink flush spreading up his neck.

She giggled. This was the man who flew around the skies of Metropolis in
a form-fitting, spandex suit? Talk about a split personality! "Don't
worry," she assured him, slipping her arm through his, "so far I haven't
seen anything not to like. Let's go swimming."

**********

Rachel Harris was studying an FBI bulletin regarding a kidnapping
suspect who was believed to have crossed the Kansas/Missouri border when
the phone rang. Greg answered it.

“Smallville Sheriff’s Office. This is Deputy Ross...Who? Metropolis?
What can I do for you, Inspector?” He listened for several more seconds.
“She’s right here. Just a moment.” He covered the receiver. “It’s an
Inspector Henderson from Metropolis, wanting to speak to you.”

“Metropolis?” Rachel picked up her extension. “This is Sheriff Harris.”

Five minutes later, she put down the phone, scowling. Greg looked at
her, his eyebrows lifted. “What’s wrong, Sheriff?”

“We may have a problem,” Rachel said. “Clark and Mrs. Luthor -- Lois
Lane, actually, since she didn’t take Luthor’s name -- are at the Kent
farm, hiding out from the media. Henderson knew it; I guess Clark let
him know where they were. He’s found out that there’s a hit man headed
for Smallville, who’s after Ms. Lane.”

Greg’s eyebrows flew up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Rachel said. “Ms. Lane inherits half of Luthor’s estate -- any
part that they can’t prove wasn’t acquired legally. Somebody in his
organization doesn’t want her to get the money.”

Greg frowned over that for a moment. “Yeah,” he said. “I get it. People
get killed over twenty dollars. Luthor had billions. Y’know, I don’t
think I’d want to be in her place. Wouldn’t be worth it.”

“That’s for sure,” Rachel said. “I better call Martha.”

**********

They emerged from the trees onto the flat beach of a lake. The water
looked clear and cool to Lois, who was frankly sweating in the humid
warmth of a typical Kansas summer afternoon. She wiped perspiration from
her upper lip. Clark, she noticed, didn’t appear to be in the least
uncomfortable, but she didn’t say anything. If his powers didn’t come
back all the way, she didn’t want to get his hopes up but she was
willing to bet that before long they would be seeing Superman again.

“We can hang our towels on a tree limb,” Clark suggested, suiting the
action to the word. “Too bad we don’t have our old motorboat and water
skis. I used to be pretty good when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, Dad and Mother used to have a cabin on the beach in Northern New
Troy,” Lois said. She hung her towel beside his and removed her tennis
shoes. “I was pretty good on skis, myself.”

“We’ll have to go somewhere on our honeymoon where we can ski,” Clark
said. “Have you thought about it?”

“Kind of,” Lois admitted. “I’d love to go to Hawaii. I’ve been to Oahu
once for a journalism conference, but I pretty much stayed in the hotel
-- except for the luau we attended the last evening.”

“I’ve been there,” Clark said. “The islands are beautiful. Maybe we
could go to one of the less-commercialized ones like Kauai or Molokai.
I’d enjoy showing you around.”

“I’ve got some vacation money saved up,” Lois said. “Maybe we could get
one of those cabins right on the beach -- you know, with a ceiling fan
and lots of privacy.”

“I’ve saved some, too,” Clark admitted. “Together, we should have
enough. If my --“ he lowered his voice, “powers come back, we wouldn’t
even have to take a plane.”

“I guess you saved a lot of money traveling by doing that,” Lois said.
“Before you came to work at the Planet?”

“Sometimes,” Clark admitted. “One summer I worked my way as a deck hand
on a cargo ship, just to see what it was like. It was sure different,
but it turned out to be lucky for the ship.”

“What happened?”

“Oh -- a grease fire broke out in the galley and got out of control.
Fortunately, I was able to put it out without anybody realizing what
happened.”

“I guess you did things like that a lot while you were traveling.”

“Well, not a lot,” Clark said, “but sometimes. I worked odd jobs here
and there, and freelanced a bit.”

“Like with the Borneo Gazette?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Anyway, after a couple of years, I got tired of it
and decided it was time to get on with my life. I’d always wanted to
work for a newspaper like the Planet, so I decided to come back to the
States and give it a try.”

“Did you try any papers before the Planet?”

He shook his head. “No. First I decided to try for the one I wanted to
work for the most, so I came to Metropolis.”

“Why the Planet? There’s the New York Times and the Washington Post --“

“Well, I’d seen the writing of this incredible journalist in the Planet
and it really impressed me.”

“Who --“ She broke off when she saw him smile. “*Me?*”

“Uh huh. And then, during my interview, you charged into Perry’s office
like a one-woman tornado, and I was hooked. That’s why I came back with
the story about the theater the next day. I *really* wanted to be hired
there after meeting you.”

While they had been talking, they strolled down toward the water. There
was a weathered wooden pier jutting out into the lake, and Clark led her
toward that. “Watch out for splinters,” he cautioned her. “There’s a
ladder at the end where we can climb down into the water.”

The ladder was still there, or perhaps it had been replaced with a newer
one, for the metal was suspiciously bright. Lois watched as Clark
descended and pushed away from the ladder, treading water and waiting
for her.

“How is it?” she asked.

“Nice,” Clark said. “Come on in.”

Considering that it was Clark who was telling her that the water was
great, she descended the ladder carefully, dipping a toe into the lake
before she completely took his word, but he was right after all. The
water was cool but not cold and after a moment of initial adjustment,
after the warmth of the air, Lois pushed away from the ladder. The water
felt like silk against her skin as she glided forward.

“This is wonderful,” Lois said. “And it looks like we have the whole
lake to ourselves.”

“Pretty much,” Clark agreed. “I see a guy in a rowboat over there,” he
added, pointing, “but that’s all.”

“Where?” Lois asked, shading her eyes against the sun. “You mean that
little spot of red, way over near the other shore?”

“Yeah,” Clark said after a moment.

“Your eyes are definitely better than mine,” Lois said. “I’d even say,
they were super.”

“Yeah ... maybe,” Clark said, and she could hear the hope in his voice,
even though he tried to hide it.

“I’d say your powers are coming back, all right,” Lois said. “Can you do
anything else?”

He closed his eyes and Lois held her breath, trying to tread water quietly.

He opened them again. “I still can’t fly,” he said, and she could feel
the disappointment in his words.

“Yes, but you can see better than you could yesterday,” Lois said.
“Remember what I said -- they seem to be getting better gradually. Have
you tried any of your other powers -- like, oh -- X-ray vision, maybe?”

“No,” Clark said. He looked down at the water and Lois saw him squint.
Another long silence. She was just about to speak when he blinked
several times and looked back at her. “It seems to work.” His voice was
shaking slightly. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Betcha I am,” Lois said. On impulse, she hit the lake’s surface with
one hand, splashing water into his face and turned to flee as fast as
she could swim. “You’re it!” she called.

Clark was after her instantly and she had barely gone ten feet before he
caught up with her and grabbed her by the wet material of her T-shirt.
“All right Ms. Lane, now you pay!”

She squealed, expecting to be ducked and trying to wiggle loose, but
instead he spun her around and she found herself being thoroughly
kissed. She ceased struggling instantly.

He lifted his head after several endless seconds and smiled down at her.
“You’re no fun,” he said teasingly. “You’re supposed to try to get away.”

“Now that would be really stupid of me, wouldn’t it,” she said
breathlessly. “That’s one super power you didn’t lose.”

“Oh?”

“Every time you’ve kissed me, you’ve taken my breath away,” she said.

“Hmm. Maybe I’ll have to do it more often,” he said.

“Believe me, Farmboy, if you don’t you’re going to be in a lot of trouble!”

**********

Perhaps an hour later, they walked, wrapped in towels and dripping at
every step, back toward their campsite.

“I’m starved,” Lois said. “So, what are we having for dinner tonight?”

“We’ll have to see what Mom packed,” Clark said. “Do you want to make a
campfire or use the camp stove?”

“What’s a campout without a campfire?” she teased. “But we’d probably be
better cooking on the stove.”

“Probably,” Clark agreed. “Okay, I’ll set up the stove while you change
into something dry.”

“Don’t you want to change?” she asked.

“After you’re done,” he said. He pushed aside a scratchy growth of
underbrush and they entered their clearing.

Lois occupied herself changing clothing and drying her hair as well as
she could, and, by the time she emerged from the tent, Clark not only
had a fire going, the little camp stove was sitting on the ground beside
it and a frying pan sitting atop it was releasing delicious aromas. She
was suddenly conscious of the fact that she was famished.

“What’s for dinner?” she asked.

“Well, I figured the frozen chicken breasts Mom put in the ice chest
were probably a good idea,” Clark said, “with canned vegetables. There’s
a nice bottle of Chablis in the chest, too. Just the thing to go with
chicken. And there’s a bag of marshmallows that we can toast in the fire
for dessert.”

Lois heard her stomach growl. “Sounds delicious.”

“Of course, we’ll have to drink the wine out of paper cups,” Clark said.

“Fine with me,” Lois said, thinking that if it were Lex, his chef would
have produced filet mignon with multiple side dishes and fine wine,
served on china and crystal. Lex’s idea of roughing it was decidedly
different than Clark’s. This version of camping was a lot more to her
taste than Lex’s, even if she could have done without the mosquitoes
that had made themselves evident in the last hour.

“There’s some citronella candles in the trunk,” Clark said, almost on
cue. “Mom and Dad always brought a few when we camped here, because of
the mosquitoes. Here’s the keys.”

Lois accepted the keys and went to retrieve the candles. At the same
time, she recalled the cellular phone that Martha had loaned them. She’d
left it in the car, figuring it would be safe enough with the doors
locked. Taking it to the lake hadn’t seemed a good idea. “I think I’ll
give Martha and Jonathan a call and see if Maher turned up again,” she
said, setting the candles down on the ice chest next to him.

“Good idea,” Clark said.

But when she opened the car door to retrieve the cell phone, it was
nowhere to be found. She searched the glove compartment and under the
seats, and at last had to acknowledge defeat. The phone wasn’t there.

“I can’t find it,” she said, when she returned to the center of the
clearing.

“Maybe it fell off the seat,” he said.

“That’s what I thought, but I looked,” she said. “I looked everywhere I
could think of. It’s not there.”

“Maybe you left it at the farm,” Clark suggested.

“Maybe,” Lois said. “I guess I must have, but I could have sworn it was
in the car.”

“Did you check your purse?”

“Yes,” she told him. “And I left my purse in the trunk before we went
swimming. I know you said there aren’t many thieves around here, but I
didn’t want to take chances.’

“It was probably a good idea,” Clark said, peaceably. “Well, if we need
to call home, we can walk down to the restrooms. There’s a pay phone
next to them. If you call, you can ask Mom to look around and see if you
left the phone there.”

“I guess so,” Lois said. “I was sure I brought it, but maybe not.”

“It would be easy to forget,” Clark said. “If you intended to put it in
your purse and got distracted, you might have thought you did.”

“Yeah,” Lois said. “Oh well, it’s not a big deal. I’ll call after dinner.”

“And in the meantime,” Clark said, with his best French accent, “if
you’d take a seat on this fine fallen log that I just happened to drag
over here, I’ll serve you your dinner.”

**********
tbc

Wedding Rearrangement: 5/?
by Nan Smith


Martha Kent raised her head at the sound of the knocker. A glance out
the kitchen window informed her that a sheriff's car was parked in the
area of packed dirt between the house and the barn and she went into the
living room to answer the knock, just as it sounded again.

Rachel Harris, looking deceptively harmless even in the official uniform
she wore as the Sheriff, stood on the front porch. Martha remembered
Rachel from the time she had been barely more than a baby, bouncing up
and down in the stroller that her mother pushed ahead of her as she
walked down Smallville's Main Street. The bright, active toddler had
turned into a no-less-enthusiastic schoolgirl, and then a high school
cheerleader with a starry-eyed crush on Clark when he had been Captain
of Smallville High's football team. She had turned that zest for living
into her passion as Smallville's new Sheriff after her father's
retirement and some months ago had proven her competence in that office
to Martha when she had saved Clark's life from a rogue government agent,
who had tried to shoot him in the back.

"Hi, Rachel," she said. "Come in."

Rachel stepped into the living room of the farmhouse and Martha closed
the door. "What are you doing out here?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"

"I had some information that Clark should know about," Rachel said. "Is
he here?"

"I'm afraid not," Martha said. "A reporter showed up sometime around
noon when Jonathan and I were out, looking for him and Lois, so we
persuaded them to disappear for a couple of days. He's got my cell
phone, though, if we need to get hold of him. What's the matter?"

"I got a call from Metropolis," Rachel explained. "From an Inspector
Henderson. He seemed to know that Clark and Lois were here."

Martha nodded. "Clark's mentioned him," she said. "He was the one that
arrested Lex Luthor at his wedding reception."

"Yeah, well --" Rachel hesitated for an instant. "I guess you know
what's happened since."

"Yes," Martha said. "Someone has an eye on Lois's share of Luthor's estate."

"That's for sure," Rachel said. "Anyway, Henderson got a tip that an
enforcer for Luthor's criminal organization is headed out here, to try
to find out from you where Clark is."

Martha glanced out the window at the sight of her husband crossing the
cow pasture toward the house. "Jonathan will be here in a minute. Can I
get you some coffee?"

Rachel smiled a little. "Sure."

Martha went back to the kitchen for the promised coffee. When she
returned, Jonathan was just closing the living room door.

Rachel was still standing in the middle of the room. Martha nodded to a
chair. "Why don't you sit down and you can explain." She handed her the
cup and saucer. "Sugar?"

Slowly, Rachel sank into an armchair and set her cup and saucer on the
coffee table. Martha set down the coffee tray, took a seat on the sofa
and poured a cup for Jonathan while Rachel put a teaspoon of sugar into
her coffee and stirred.

"Now," Martha said, "what's this about an 'enforcer', did you say?"

Jonathan was stirring cream and sugar into his coffee but at Martha's
words, he glanced sharply at her. "Enforcer?"

"Yes," Rachel said. "Inspector William Henderson, from Metropolis,
called my office this morning. He received a tip from one of his
informants that an enforcer for 'The Mrs.', who appears to have taken
over the organization, is on his way out here to try to get Clark's
location from you."

Jonathan looked at Martha. "Clark said anything might happen," he said.
"I guess he was right."

"And we're not going to tell him," Martha said in her most no-nonsense
voice. "If we do, he's going to come rushing back here to try to protect
us, which isn't a good idea right now."

"Definitely not," Rachel said. "No offense, but Clark is a reporter. I
know he writes about big city crime all the time, but he's not trained
to deal with people like this. I still shudder when I think how close he
came to getting killed by those crazy government types a few months ago.
I don't want him anywhere near the place."

Neither did Martha. Without his invulnerability, Clark was bound to get
himself hurt or killed trying to protect them. "What do you think we
should do?" she asked.

Rachel had obviously been thinking about that, for she replied almost at
once. "We could put you in hiding, but that's sort of inconvenient,
especially since you have the farm to take care of, and you'd have to
hide until the month is up," she said. "I was wondering if you would
mind if Greg Ross were to come stay here for a little while -- kind of
as a bodyguard."

Jonathan and Martha looked at each other for a long moment and then
Martha nodded. "That's a good idea. If there's a witness around, he
can't do anything violent. They want to kill Lois, but it has to look
like an accident."

"My thought exactly." Rachel finished her coffee. "I'll tell him as soon
as I get back to town. Expect him here this evening."

Martha finished her cup of coffee and set it down. "I'll make up Clark's
room for him," she said. "If Lois or Clark calls you, you're not to tell
them about this."

"I won't," Rachel said. She glanced at her watch and stood up. "I need
to get back. Thanks for the coffee," she added. "I wish you were making
coffee for the boys and me. The stuff at the station is barely fit to
drink."

"It's just coffee," Martha said. "Maybe it's your coffee maker."

"Maybe." Rachel didn't sound convinced. "You two look out for
yourselves. I'll have Greg over here as soon as he can make it, but when
he shows up, be sure it's him."

"I know Greg," Martha said. "Clark and Pete were best friends, remember.
Greg used to tag after them a lot of the time when they were kids."

"All right," Rachel said.

When she had gone, Jonathan stood looking after the cloud of dust that
the Sheriff's squad car had left hanging in the air. "An enforcer," he
said slowly. "Whoever wants that money isn't giving up, is she?"

"Not for that kind of money," Martha said. "Let's just hope she doesn't
figure out where Clark and Lois are."

"In the meantime," Jonathan said, "I guess we've got a few preparations
to make. We'd better get busy."

**********

The setting sun was hidden behind the trees and the sky overhead had
turned a deep purple when Lois and Clark walked slowly down a narrow
trail toward the campground's convenience station -- restrooms, showers,
telephones and other sundry items that Lois had always regarded as
necessities of life before the last few days in the mountains. Clark
carried a flashlight with which he illuminated the path ahead of them,
since the sunlight was dimming rapidly.

"Watch your step," Clark said, as they descended five wooden steps,
apparently installed on a short, steep section of the trail for the
convenience of the campers. "Looks like one of the boards is coming loose."

Lois carefully negotiated the loose board. After their trek through the
mountains, such minor inconveniences were nothing. She and Clark had
encountered far worse on that trip, and yet now, she had begun to look
on it as the happiest part of her recent life. How could she ever have
believed that she could be happy with Lex? Even if he had been the
pillar of the community that he had pretended to be, she wouldn't have
been happy with him. Looking back, with the twenty/twenty vision of
hindsight, it was so completely obvious that her future happiness lay
with the man who walked beside her now, one hand clasping hers, that she
couldn't believe how blind she had been. Clark had come to be her best
friend over the last year, and had gradually and unobtrusively worked
his way into her heart, accomplishing it so quietly that looking back
she couldn't pinpoint the time that she had begun to love him. She had
fallen in love with Superman during their first, short meeting, but with
Clark it had taken time -- time for her to notice him, and much more
time for her to realize that somewhere along the way, friendship had
turned into something far deeper.

That time when Miranda had sprayed the newsroom with her pheromone
should have told her how dangerous Clark was, she thought, but
typically, she had rationalized the whole thing away so she wouldn't
have to deal with her growing feelings for him. How much easier it would
have been if she'd just gone with the flow, as Lucy phrased it. Or maybe
not. Her sister went with the flow all the time and her success with
close relationships was as bad as Lois's had been before Clark. Lucy,
like Lois, had learned that men couldn't be trusted and as a result she
chose men who were losers in one way or another. Lois hoped that one day
Lucy would find someone who could show her that not all men were like
their father -- that there were some who didn't walk away when the going
got rough -- although she would never wish anything like what had
happened to her on her sister. Surely there were easier ways to learn a
lesson, but of course she was Mad Dog Lane. She never did things the
easy way.

"Are you all right?" Clark asked.

"Huh? Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You looked a little sad," Clark said. "Is anything wrong?"

"No," Lois said. Impulsively, she raised their clasped hands and kissed
the back of his. "I was just hoping that Lucy is as lucky someday as
I've been."

"Lucy? You mean your sister?"

Lois nodded. "I was just thinking about her. She has this tendency to
pick losers -- just like I did. She just chooses them from a different
social stratum. I agreed to marry Lex and she takes up with illiterate
goons. Same result."

"That's too bad," Clark said. "I saw Lucy once not long after I came to
the Planet. She's a beautiful, intelligent girl - just like her sister.
She deserves better."

"I think both of us got the feeling that we weren't worth much in our
parents' estimation," Lois said slowly. "Daddy wanted boys, not girls,
and he didn't try very hard to hide it. Nothing I did was ever quite
good enough." She slapped absently at a mosquito. "Mother spent most of
the time after Daddy left drunk out of her mind. The court ordered her
into rehab when I was fifteen and Lucy and I had to move in with Daddy,
but nothing much changed. Daddy didn't spend his day getting drunk but
he was too busy to pay much attention to us. I basically raised Lucy.
Somebody had to do it, and Mother and Daddy were pretty much awol. That
kind of thing doesn't make you feel very good about yourself -- that
your parents didn't think enough of you to bother with you. And then,
when I was a senior in high school, Daddy and I had a tremendous fight
and I moved out."

"What was it about?" Clark asked. He reached out absently to push a
hanging creeper out of her way. Lois hadn't even noticed it in the
gathering gloom but Clark seemed to have little difficulty seeing.

"He wanted me to go into medical school and I wanted to be a journalist.
He threatened not to help me pay for college if I didn't go into
medicine." She shrugged. "I was eighteen, so I moved back in with Mother
while I applied for scholarships and funding of one sort or another, and
then I moved into the dorm at New Troy State. Somewhere around my junior
year, Daddy must have realized that I was going to be a journalist no
matter what kind of pressure he brought, and he helped me pay for the
rest of my education, but it wasn't the best part of my life."

"I can't understand why parents would try to force their child into a
career she doesn't want," Clark said. "Dad wanted me to study
agriculture and animal husbandry at Midwestern U so I could take over
the farm someday, but when I told him I wanted to go into journalism he
didn't try to change my mind. He wanted what was best for me."

"That's about it," Lois said. "Daddy wanted me to do what he thought was
best -- and naturally, what *I* wanted wasn't relevant. Anyway, you can
probably understand now why Daddy and I were so uncomfortable with each
other when you met him. I know you didn't at the time."

"Yeah," Clark said. He squeezed her hand. "It must have been rough."

"Sort of." She shook her head. "Anyway, I guess that's why I have trust
issues with men. Or at least part of the reason. When I was a little
girl, I kept dreaming about a Prince Charming who would come along, see
something in me that no one else saw and sweep me off my feet but after
I grew up the couple of times I thought I'd found him it turned into a
disaster. I told you about Paul, in college, and then Claude --" She
stopped, wondering if it was a good idea to remind Clark of her history.
"Anyway, I think that was probably why I wouldn't let myself think of
you as a romantic interest. I think I chose Superman because deep down I
knew he was out of reach. He was safe to love because nothing could ever
come of it. Then I figured marrying Lex would be safe, because I didn't
love him. It was only after it was done that it finally hit me what an
awful mistake I'd made." She sighed. "I should have known better. You
offered me everything I'd ever wanted and I was too scared to see it. I
jumped in without checking the water level again -- and if it hadn't
been for you and Perry, and the others, I'd have been trapped."

Clark put an arm around her waist, guiding her through an overgrown
section of the path. "I'm no Prince Charming either, you know," he said
with a trace of apology in his voice. "I wish I were. Superman is as
fallible as anyone else."

"You don't have to be perfect," Lois said. "You're my best friend.
You've seen me at my worst and it didn't scare you away. I don't have to
be on my best behavior for you, and you don't have to be for me. Best
friends don't have to worry about those things." She hesitated. "We're
still best friends, aren't we? Even though we're engaged?"

"You'll always be my best friend," Clark said. "My mom and dad are. Best
friends, that is. When Dad is upset or worried, the first person he
talks to is Mom, and Mom is the same. It really surprised me when I
realized it wasn't that way with all married couples."

"I wish I'd had your parents," Lois said, a little wistfully. "From
everything you've said about them -- and from what I've seen -- they
made their marriage look like fun, and raised you to be the kind of
person who could be Superman. My parents raised me to be a neurotic
compulsive overachiever who doesn't have the courage to admit it when
I'm wrong. It gets me in trouble, sometimes."

"Yeah, I'd noticed," Clark said dryly. "Still, I'd rather it was me
rushing to the rescue than some guy on a white charger. I stand a better
chance of succeeding. Or I did."

"I think you will again," Lois said. "Not that I'm looking forward to
needing to be rescued, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah," Clark said. He stopped and turned to face her. His expression
was hard to see in the gloom, but she didn't need to see it. His voice
told her everything she needed to know. "I can't promise never to hurt
you or disappoint you. I wish I could. I'm bound to make mistakes, but
I'll never do it on purpose, I swear." He raised a hand to cup her
cheek. "I love you."

Unexpectedly she felt her eyes stinging with tears. "I know," she said.
"I just hope you know what you're getting into. I'm not the easiest
person to live with."

"I can take it," he said, and there was a smile in his voice. "I figure
it'll be worth it -- especially since I decided months ago that it was
you or no one."

There didn't seem to be any answer to that, which was fortunate. His
lips descended on hers, and she found herself the recipient of another
of those breathtaking kisses.

When he finally let her go, she followed him with unaccustomed docility
along the remainder of the path. The woods opened up suddenly into an
illuminated clearing. A wood-frame building dominated the center of it,
and along one side was a row of pay phones. Arrows directed newcomers to
the showers and restrooms and a rustic sign tacked to the side of the
building welcomed visitors to the campground's Convenience Center.

The sun had completely set but the clearing was lit by several
floodlights placed high on rough, wooden poles. Several people in shorts
and T-shirts suitable for the warm, Kansas summer night were wandering
around the area or loitering here and there, obviously waiting for other
members of their party.

Lois made a beeline for the ladies shower and restroom. There were
several women and girls there, and she had to wait for the opportunity
to use one of the four showers. While she waited, she observed the other
campers standing in the short line. Most were women with children,
ranging in age from barely more than toddlers to girls in their teens.
One girl of about eight or nine seemed to be by herself, several places
ahead of Lois. At least, she didn't appear to belong to the woman in
front of her who was escorting twin girls of about three, or the group
behind her which consisted of a woman who looked as if she were in her
early to mid-forties and three girls that were probably her daughters,
ranging from one of about six or seven to one obviously in her
mid-teens. Lois might have thought that the girl belonged with them but
for the fact that mother and daughters were alike blond and blue-eyed
and the lone child was very definitely a brunette with brown eyes and a
flock of freckles. She looked nothing like them, and was dressed in a
pair of tattered blue shorts and a stained T-shirt, while the other
girls wore swimming suits.

Normally, Lois would have paid no attention to the child, but the fact
that she was so obviously alone in the crowd seemed odd. Still, it was
probably nothing, she thought. The girl most likely had parents waiting
outside, and she was probably old enough to be trusted in here by
herself, considering how many other people were around.

Lois couldn't quite dismiss the girl from her thoughts, however.
Something that she couldn't even identify nagged at her. After about a
five minute wait, the child disappeared through the door to the dressing
rooms, and a moment later the blond mother sent her oldest daughter in
with the admonition to "make it quick".

A few minutes later the unaccompanied girl emerged silently from her
dressing cubicle as Lois was waiting to enter the room. She didn't
glance at Lois as she squeezed past.

Lois had intended to take a long, leisurely shower, but she found
herself hurrying. In what was certainly record time for her, she shed
her clothing, showered quickly and returned to dress, all in the space
of seven minutes by actual count. Emerging into the main body of the
ladies room, she saw that the girl had vanished and made her way
hurriedly to the door, unable to explain her sense of urgency even to
herself.

Clark was leaning casually against the wall just outside the door when
she emerged. He straightened up, smiling at her. "That was fast." His
smile faded as she looked quickly around. "What's the matter?"

"Did you see a little girl come out alone a few minutes ago -- maybe
eight years old, brown curly hair, brown eyes -- wearing shorts and a
t-shirt?"

Clark frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe. Were the shorts blue?"

Lois nodded. "Did you see if anyone was waiting for her?"

"I wasn't paying much attention," Clark said. He continued to frown,
obviously prodding his memory. "Yeah, there was."

"Oh." Lois drew a relieved breath. "I guess it's okay, then. Who was it?"

"A guy -- I guess it was probably her grandfather."

"Her grandfather?"

"Uh huh. He looked like he was maybe about fifty. Tall guy, some grey in
his hair, thinning a little at the temples. Why?"

That photographic memory again, Lois thought. Clark's incredible memory
definitely gave him an advantage over the average newsman. "I don't
know, really. She was in the ladies room alone. She looked kind of --
oh, I don't know -- a little scared, maybe. I wondered if anything was
wrong."

"Well, she went with the guy. I thought maybe she was just tired, but
now that you mention it --" He paused.

"What?"

"Well -- she kind of hung back, but she didn't do anything to attract
attention."

Lois bit her lip. "It's probably okay," she ventured.

"Yeah, probably." They looked at each other. "But now that you've
brought it up, neither of us is going to get a wink of sleep until we
know for sure. Right?"

"You took the words right out of my mouth, partner," Lois said. "Let's
go see if we can find out."

**********
tbc

Wedding Rearrangement: 6/?
by Nan Smith


Martha was pouring dishwashing detergent into her dishwasher when there
was a brisk knock on the door. A glance out the kitchen window showed
that the battered pickup truck that she recognized as belonging to the
Ross family was now parked in the open space next to the hen house. Greg
Ross, the younger brother of Clark's best friend during his high school
days, had arrived.

Greg Ross was between three and four years younger than Clark, and
certainly seemed too young to be a deputy sheriff, Martha thought as she
opened the door. He resembled his older brother a good deal although his
hair was more red than light brown and he displayed considerably more
freckles than Pete ever had. He was dressed casually in jeans and a
T-shirt and didn't look anything like an officer of the law. Martha
guessed that Rachel had directed him to blend in, instead of allowing
strangers to realize that there was a sheriff's deputy on the premises.

"Come in, Greg," Martha said, opening the door wider. "I guess Rachel
told you you're on babysitting detail for a few days."

To her surprise, Greg blushed up to his hairline and shook his head
vigorously. "It's nothing like that," he said quickly. "You and Mr. Kent
could probably handle some city slicker bad guy without much trouble,
but Sheriff Harris wants to be sure somebody's here to help, just in
case." He looked around the living room as he stepped inside. "I guess
you got a new rug since Clark left home," he said. "I remember you had
this brown one that was all different shades."

"That was to disguise the dirt you kids tracked in all the time," Martha
said. "I figure you've probably grown out of that stage -- finally."

"Kind of," Greg said. "Is Mr. Kent around?"

"Jonathan's outside, finishing the chores," Martha said. She glanced at
Sport, the dog that had adopted them last year. He had followed Greg
into the house and was sniffing at the backs of his legs. "It's a good
thing he catches rats. He's useless as a watchdog. Out, Sport," she
commanded, holding the door open for the animal.

Sport obeyed, ran down the steps and vanished into the barn. Martha
turned to Greg. "Have you had dinner yet?"

"Huh?" The deputy looked blank for a moment. "Oh, yeah. I picked up a
sandwich at Maisie's around four."

"Then it's been nearly four hours since you've eaten," Martha said.
"Come on into the kitchen and have some coffee and pie." She led the way
as she spoke. "How's Pete doing these days?" she asked. "We never hear
from him since he got the job at the state capital."

"He's on Senator Benson's staff," Greg said. "He says that our local
assemblyman's talking about retiring instead of running for re-election.
Pete's thinking about running for the seat."

"Really?" Martha opened the refrigerator to remove the apple pie. "I
guess he's doing pretty well then." She located a pie plate, sliced off
a generous serving of pie and set it before the deputy, following it a
moment later with a cup of coffee. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Greg said. He inhaled the aroma of the coffee. "Rachel said
your coffee was going to spoil me for the office stuff if I'm here for a
couple of days," he added. "It sure smells good."

"It sounds like your coffee maker needs to be cleaned," Martha said. "Or
maybe you should adjust your timer settings. I don't do anything
different than most people when they make coffee."

"Mom used to say that making coffee was an art, and that some people had
the knack while others never learned it," Greg said. "I'll bet that you
could even force our cranky old coffee machine to make decent coffee."
He sipped the brew with deep appreciation.

Martha busied herself with loading the remainder of the dishes into the
dishwasher. As Greg finished the cup of coffee, the front door opened
and closed and a moment later Jonathan Kent entered the kitchen. "Are we
having more pie? I could use a slice before bedtime."

"I thought you might," Martha said. She set a second plate of pie on the
table. "You get a smaller piece," she informed her husband. "I've been
counting your calories for the day."

Jonathan glanced at Greg and patted his stomach. "Just my luck. She
cooks like that and then complains when I eat it."

Greg grinned. "Tough luck," he remarked. "So who's the guy that showed
up this afternoon?"

"Clark said he called himself Maher," Jonathan said. "Ben Maher from the
Topeka Intelligencer."

"The Intelligencer, huh?" Greg took a last bite of pie. "That was
terrific pie," he told Martha. "Did you see their interview with Elvis
yesterday?" He grinned. "Rachel -- I mean Sheriff Harris brought it in
for us to read at lunch. They're probably channeling the ghost of Luthor
now and we'll get the story in a few days. Maybe they want to get Ms.
Lane's input."

Martha snorted. "Probably. Or maybe they're getting a viewpoint from
their Martian contacts."

"Or the mole men," Jonathan put in, brightly. "Can't forget them."

Martha shook her head in amusement. "At least no one from any of the
other papers has found us so far."

"That's good." Greg handed his pie plate and fork to Martha. "With luck,
nobody else will show up and this big time enforcer will turn out to be
a dud, too. If we're all real lucky, some other big news story will
crowd the Luthor story onto the back page. In the meantime, though, if
somebody you don't know *does* drive up, don't go out there without me.
All right?"

Martha and Jonathan nodded.

"Good." Greg pointed at the small TV set that Martha kept in the corner
of her kitchen counter. "There's all kinds of creeps running around
these days. We were put on alert this morning for that guy."

Martha turned to look at the picture of a man of about fifty glaring at
the camera from a police photo. "I've seen a couple of reports about him
today," she said.

Jonathan looked questioningly at Greg. "Nasty looking customer," he
remarked. "What did he do?"

Jonathan had been working outside, Martha thought. The radio they kept
in the barn had quit a week ago and she hadn't found time to replace the
batteries, so Jonathan wouldn't have heard anything about it.

"Guy's a child predator that finished up his sentence a few weeks ago in
Missouri," Greg told him. "There were all kinds of protests from his
hometown about letting him out -- except his dad, who says he was
wrongfully convicted -- but the courts didn't have a choice. Anyway,
they think he snatched a kid off the street on her way home from school.
He might be headed this way. Kansas law enforcement's watching for him."

Martha shuddered.

**********

Rachel Harris glanced at the little thirteen-inch television set that
sat on a shelf near the rear of the Sheriff's office. The LNN
News-at-Eight Hour was on and she listened to it with half her
attention. The newscaster was reporting on the kidnapping in Missouri
where Bethany Ann Gordon had been snatched two days ago while walking
home from school. The police were searching frantically for her and for
the man believed to have kidnapped her -- a violent sex offender who had
been released from prison three weeks before. David Waters had been seen
in the area at about the time of Bethany's kidnapping and the
description given by her six-year-old brother matched. There was an
interstate alert for the fugitive and the little girl, and Bethany's
mother had been shown repeating her tearful plea for her daughter's
return. Rachel shook her head. If Waters had really taken the child, the
family's pleas wouldn't make an impression on him. Rachel knew his type
-- a sociopath who couldn't have cared less about the pain that he was
inflicting on others. If anything, he would probably enjoy it. For
perhaps the fiftieth time, she studied the flyer that had come in this
morning about the case. Various tips now led the police to believe that
the pair had crossed the Kansas state line and the search was spreading
across the area. As if she didn't have enough to handle, this had to
happen just now. Still, she hoped that someone would spot the guy and
call the cops before it was too late. The news program had found an
expert on the subject who had warned that it was just a matter of time
before Waters killed one of his victims. Rachel very much feared that
this might be the time. If he turned out to be their man, he certainly
must know what it would mean for him if he were convicted again.

Almost on the thought, the phone rang. Rachel's heart jumped at the
suddenness and she made herself draw a deep breath before picking up the
receiver on the second ring. "Sheriff's office. This is Sheriff Harris,"
she said, making her voice calm and steady mostly through force of will.

"Oh, thank heavens!" The feminine voice on the other end of the line
sounded as if its owner were on the edge of hysterics. "I think he's dead!"

"Hold it," Rachel said. "First tell me who you are."

"This is Maisie Allen, over at Maisie's Diner. I just stepped out in
back to dump the trash and there's a guy lying behind the dumpster. I
don't think he's breathing!"

"Did you call 911?" Rachel asked.

"Yes but I think he's dead! There's blood all over his shirt and --"

"I'll be right there," Rachel interrupted. "Don't touch anything."

**********

Smallville's only paramedic van had arrived almost at the same time as
Rachel. It pulled into the narrow alley right behind her squad car.
Rachel stopped as close to the dumpster as she could reasonably manage
in order to give the paramedics room and set the brake, leaving the
headlights on for visibility.

Maisie was standing in the alley -- or perhaps standing wasn't exactly
the word. She was leaning against the wall and looking ready to either
faint or throw up when Rachel got out of the car and approached. She
looked the older woman over with a critical eye and made a decision.

"Maisie, go inside and sit down," she directed. "You can't do anything
here. Get yourself some coffee or something. I'll be in to talk to you
in a few minutes."

Maisie gulped and nodded, rolling an eye in the direction of the body,
and obeyed without a word. Rachel turned toward the man on the ground.

The situation was much as Maisie had described it. The victim was almost
certainly dead. He was lying face up and his shirt was rent in three
places, and covered with dried blood. Stabbed, Rachel thought, shining
her flashlight on his face.

It was no one she knew, she realized with a trace of relief, for which
she mentally chastised herself. It was still most likely a homicide and
probably some time ago -- perhaps several hours.

The paramedics were kneeling by the body and the taller one glanced up
at her, shaking his head. "Guy's been dead for hours," he said. "Looks
like somebody stabbed him." Harry Talbot was from Rachel's graduating
class at Smallville High and in the illumination of the headlights from
Rachel's car and the van his complexion had taken on a greenish tinge.
"Guess we'll be taking this one to the Coroner."

"Any ID?" Rachel asked. She went to her car and removed the camera that
she kept in the trunk for situations like this. This would be its
inaugural use in such a situation.

"Doesn't look like it. Could be one of those reporters that have been
looking for the Kents. Maybe somebody at the motor court knows who he is."

"I'm sure they're going to love being called in for an identification,"
Rachel said dryly, but her mind was working rapidly. Police Inspector
Henderson, from Metropolis, had told her that an enforcer from the
criminal organization formerly run by Lex Luthor was headed for
Smallville. Could it possibly be connected with this?

Sure it could, she was telling herself ten minutes later as she watched
the paramedics loading the unidentified man into their van. There hadn't
been a murder in Smallville in nearly ten years. And now, right after
Clark showed up with Lois Lane, who was apparently the target of unnamed
criminals from the city, an out-of-towner was found dead behind Maisie's
Diner. It might be a coincidence but she was inclined to think it wasn't.

Rachel walked to her car and reached for the radio. Greg was at the Kent
farm but she had three other deputies available who weren't going to
like being called away from their homes at this hour. Which was too bad,
but nobody had ever said this job was only about catching the occasional
sneak thief or issuing citations to someone who parked in the
handicapped zone at Lang's Emporium. This time they were going to have
to earn their pay. And it looked like it was time to call in the
forensics team from Wichita. Big city crime had definitely come to
Smallville.

**********

“He headed up the same path we came down,” Clark said, keeping his voice
low. “There are branches to three other campsites from it besides ours.
How do you want to work this?”

“How is your hearing coming along?” Lois's voice was softer than his,
but he could hear her without difficulty.

“It's better than yesterday but it isn't back to normal,” Clark
answered. “The trouble is that I don't seem to have full control of it.
It happened the same way back when I was first getting my powers.”

“What do you mean?”

“It just started this afternoon. We'll be talking and all of a sudden
the super hearing kicks in and it's like I'm in a crowd with everyone
screaming at the top of his lungs,” Clark said. “I can get it under
control but it takes a second or two.”

“Oh. How about your eyesight?”

“I can see in the dark fine,” Clark told her. “And my telescopic vision
is better than it was yesterday. My X-ray vision is partly back. I could
see the bottom of the lake this afternoon without any trouble.” He
paused. Should he tell her? Instantly he made up his mind. No more
keeping things from Lois. He'd promised himself that while they were
still lost in the mountains. “There's one problem with it, though.”

“What?”

He hesitated and then plunged ahead. “A couple of times in the last
couple of hours it's cut in when I wasn't trying, the same way my
hearing does.”

“Is it a problem?” she asked quickly.

“Not exactly.” He hesitated. “Uh – while I was waiting for you outside
the ladies room was the second time it did it. It was a little
embarrassing.”

Lois grinned. “I guess Superman's crack about the lead-lined robe was a
bluff, huh?”

Clark could feel himself blushing. “Yeah. I was kind of upset. I'm
really sorry about what I said. If I'd been a little more rational about
the whole thing, we might have avoided what came afterwards.”

“True,” Lois agreed, “but then some of the other things wouldn't have
happened either. You'd probably have your powers but I wouldn't know the
truth about you and who knows what Lex would have done when I turned him
down. He'd still have the Kryptonite cage, too, and he'd be more
determined than ever to kill Superman.” She stopped in the middle of the
path and turned to face him. “You said we weren't going to rehash all
the mistakes we made, remember? You blew it but so did I, and there's no
way to know how things would have worked out if we'd done things
differently. Given that, I'm glad that we're here, even with everything
that's happened. I've finally figured out who I really love and you're
with me, alive and safe. That's worth everything we went through -- at
least to me.”

“It's worth it to me, too,” Clark said. “You're right. I'll try to quit
kicking myself if you'll do the same.” He smiled at her in the darkness.
“I know how you've been blaming yourself for what happened. Can we just
stop trying to assign blame? We both made some mistakes but we don't
have to keep dwelling on them.”

Lois hesitated and then lifted her chin. “You're right.”

“I am?” he said. It wasn't like Lois to give in on any argument.

“Yes, you are. We've got more important things to do than sit around and
blame ourselves for things that can't be changed. The thing that I'm
wondering about is that you say these things -- your powers cutting in
unexpectedly -- happened when you were first getting them, too. I think
that means they're really starting to come back now.”

He'd heard that changing the subject was a feminine trait, but Lois
definitely raised the talent to a new high, Clark thought. He blinked at
her for a second. “I never thought of that. I guess I'll have to be
ready for the others to start kicking in unexpectedly, too.”

“Exactly,” Lois said. “Now, back to the plan. We're going to find where
the guy and the little girl are camping and you're going to use your
powers to eavesdrop. Then, when we find out what's going on we'll decide
what else we need to do. If anything.”

As a plan, it left a good deal up in the air but Clark had to agree that
it made sense. “Okay. Come on.”

**********
tbc

Wedding Rearrangement: 7/?
by Nan Smith


It was almost an hour later that they approached the last of the camping
spots connected by the narrow trail. The first campsite had been
occupied by a noisy family of two adults and five children, all under
thirteen, and a large hairy beast that was, theoretically at least, a
dog. It had barked noisily at them and Clark had apologized profusely,
explaining that they must have taken the wrong branch from the trail.

The second spot had held a small camper and Clark had pulled Lois away
quickly. The two persons inside were newlyweds, he'd explained briefly,
and were busy getting better acquainted. It had taken Lois a moment to
decipher his code and then she had laughed.

But this campsite held another small camper, a battered one that had
seen better days. The little girl was nowhere to be seen but a tall man
was sitting on a log in front of a campfire, while an iron skillet that
was perched precariously over the flames sizzled loudly and gave off the
scent of frying bacon. As they watched, he leaned forward to break an
egg into the pan.

Lois put her lips against Clark's ear. "Well?" she whispered. She kept
her voice low, trusting that the warm breeze that was rustling the
shrubbery and brushing her face and the sounds of the night insects
would muffle her whisper.

Clark lowered his glasses, squinting at the camper.

"She's in the camper," he said after a moment. "Alone."

"What's she doing?"

"Just sitting on the bench by the table." He frowned. "I think she's
crying."

The lone man was fiddling with a radio now, Lois saw. Little bursts of
static came to her ears. Finally, it seemed, he found a station for he
set the radio down on the ground and reached forward to stir the
contents of the pan.

"What --" Lois was beginning.

"Sh!" Clark was leaning forward, his head tilted in exactly the pose
that Lois had seen many times at the Daily Planet. Superman, she
thought. He was listening to something that she couldn't hear. She fell
silent, biting her lip and watching his face.

After nearly a minute Clark took her arm, pulling her back a short
distance from the clearing. "He's listening to a local news report," he
said softly. "They're reporting that there's a statewide search for a
girl who was snatched two days ago in Missouri. Her name is Bethany Ann
Gordon. They think the guy who has her is a sex offender who was
released from prison a few weeks ago." She thought she could see him
frowning in the faint starlight that sifted through the trees. "I
remember hearing something about it at the time. I didn't pay a lot of
attention because of what was going on in Metropolis. His name was David
Ferdinand Waters. There was a lot of controversy but it turned out they
had to let him go because there wasn't any legal way to keep him in prison."

"Is that him?" Lois asked.

"I don't know. He might just be listening to the news."

"Now would be a good time to have your mom's cell phone," Lois said. "We
never did make that call." She glanced back in the direction of the
clearing. The light of the campfire was barely visible. "I guess the
cops are asking for tips, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Any descriptions?"

He nodded, obviously still listening. "Bethany is seven years old with
brown hair and eyes. When she disappeared she was wearing a T-shirt
and...." he paused, tilting his head again in the direction of the
muffled voice issuing from the radio. "...Blue shorts."

"That's good enough for me," Lois said. "We have to do something."

"He might be armed," Clark said. "If it's them he probably is,
actually." She could see him frowning in the dimness. "One of us needs
to stay here to keep an eye on things, and the other should go back and
call the police."

"I'll stay here," Lois said at once. "You can move faster in the dark
and you know the area better."

Clark hesitated. "I don't like to leave you here, alone," he said. "If
that's really Waters, he's dangerous."

"Clark, I'll just watch. If he tries to ... hurt her, I'll think of
something to distract him. Hurry up." She glanced back in the direction
of the firelight. "The sooner you go, the sooner you'll get back."

Under less serious circumstances the indecision in his expression might
have made her laugh. "You'll just watch? Promise?"

"I promise -- unless I have to do something. Go on!"

There really wasn't any other choice and she knew he knew it. "I'll be
right back. *Please* be careful." The last sentence was spoken in a
whisper but was no less heartfelt for all that.

"I will. Go!"

**********

Robert Jackson, the day manager of the Smallville Motor Court,
hesitated, glancing nervously back and forth between Rachel Harris and
Wesley Reid, Smallville's Coroner. He seemed unable to look directly at
the sheet-covered form on the long table in front of him. He swallowed
convulsively. "Are you sure about this, Sheriff?"

"It's okay Bob. All we need is for you to see if you recognize him,"
Rachel told him soothingly, for the fifth time although she could hardly
blame him. Violent crime in Smallville was normally limited to a
fistfight at the local bar on Saturday night -- not murder. Wesley Reid
had already told her that the man had been dead for at least seven or
eight hours -- maybe more. Whoever had killed him had picked a good spot
to dump the body. Even Maisie might not have spotted him if it hadn't
been for her compulsively neat habit of walking around the dumpster for
a final pickup of trash before she closed down for the evening. "He's
not from Smallville, so the chances are good that he was staying at your
motel."

The man gulped again, looking slightly green around the edges. "But --
murder! I'm not sure --"

"We're not going to show you anything but his face," Rachel said. She
nodded to Reid. "Let's get this over with."

The Coroner gently drew the sheet down, revealing the victim's features.
Jackson gulped and took a step backwards.

"Do you recognize him?" Rachel asked.

The manager swallowed a fourth time but leaned forward, obviously
determined to put the unpleasant episode behind him. Then he paused, and
Rachel saw him frown.

"*Do* you recognize him?" she asked again.

Slowly, Jackson nodded. "I think so. I think he's one of the reporters
that checked in a couple of days ago, looking for the Kents."

Rachel produced a plastic bag, containing one of several items that her
deputies had retrieved from the dumpster behind which the body had been
found. "We found some things thrown into the dumpster. Is this key from
your place?"

Jackson took the plastic bag, examining the key with the corn-shaped tag
dangling from its chain. "Yes, it is. We're the only motel in the area
that uses this kind of tag for our room keys. Room 24A --" He glanced
quickly once more at the murdered man. "I can check to see the name of
the person we rented that room to. Is there a phone here?"

The Coroner nodded at Rachel. "Use the one in my office." He covered the
victim's face with the sheet once more.

Moments later Jackson was listening to the voice of the night manager of
Smallville Motor Court. "You're sure? All right. Thank you." He set down
the receiver. "The room was rented by a Benjamin Maher, of the Topeka
Intelligencer. The maid reports that there's no one in the room, and his
rental car isn't there."

"Maher?" It took Rachel several seconds to recall where she had heard
the name before. It was the name of the reporter that had found the
Kents' farm this morning.

The manager was nodding. "Benjamin Maher," he repeated.

"All right," Rachel said. "I guess that's all. You can go. Thank you for
your help."

The manager had barely closed the door behind him when Rachel picked up
the phone and dialed the number for Jonathan and Martha Kent. The time
was nearly nine-thirty and she knew the Kents kept early hours because
of the need to be up before the sun, but the back of her neck was
crawling. This couldn't be a coincidence, she thought. Ben Maher had
found the Kent farm and now he was dead.

Clark Kent and Lois Lane knew that he had located the farm but somehow
Rachel couldn't see either of them killing the unfortunate newsman just
to prevent him from leading the others of his profession to the place.
But she'd had a warning this afternoon that someone who would have no
such compunction was on his way to Smallville.

"Hello?" Jonathan Kent's voice emerged from the receiver.

"Jonathan, it's Rachel," she said. "What time did Clark and Lois leave
the farm?"

"Hi Rachel. Is something wrong?" Jonathan asked.

"Maybe. What time did Clark and Lois leave the farm?"

"Around one thirty, I think. Just a minute." His voice became fainter.
"It's Rachel. She wants to know what time Lois and Clark left."

There was a murmur in the background. "Rachel?" Jonathan's voice was
suddenly louder again. "You still there?"

"Right here," she said.

"Martha thinks it was about two. Why?"

"Do you know where they were going?"

"Sure," Jonathan said. "They were headed for Domino Lake. They wanted to
go somewhere out of sight for awhile so they decided to go camping.
What's going on?"

"Maybe nothing," Rachel said. "What time did Clark talk to that reporter?"

"I think he said it was about noon. Why? What's the matter?"

"Have you had any contact with them since they left?"

"No. They have Martha's cell phone, though."

Rachel considered that. "Could you give them a call?" she asked finally.
"Just to see if they're all right -- and then call me back at this
number." She read off the number on the phone.

"All right. But what's wrong?"

Rachel hesitated. "Maher is dead," she said finally. "At least we think
it's him."

"Dead!"

"Yeah. I'm a little worried about Clark and Lois. It seems a little too
coincidental that this happened just now. Call them, all right?"

"All right." Jonathan Kent's voice had taken on a worried edge. "What
are you thinking? Clark and Lois wouldn't hurt anyone."

"I know that," Rachel said. "I'm thinking about the call from that
Metropolis police inspector this afternoon."

"Oh. All right, I'll call them right now."

**********

Jonathan Kent hung up. Martha set down the cordless phone that she had
lifted to her ear during the conversation and for several seconds they
stared at each other. "What on Earth do you suppose --" Martha began.

"I don't know but we'd better call them," Jonathan said. He quickly
punched in the number of the cell phone. The phone rang five times and
then cut to the recorded message for the voice mail. He disconnected,
waited for thirty seconds and tried again.

The result was the same. He switched off the phone. "It's on but no
one's answering," he said.

"Maybe they left it in the car," Martha suggested. "There's any number
of reasons they might not answer. They're engaged, after all."

Jonathan shrugged. "Maybe. I hope that's all it is but I'd better call
Rachel back." As he spoke, he was punching in the number she had given him.

Rachel answered on the first ring. "Rachel Harris."

"No one's answering the phone," Jonathan told her. "I tried twice. I
hope they're all right."

"So do I," Rachel said. "I'll call you back if I find out anything else.
Did they say where they'd be camping?"

"Uh -- yeah. Clark said they'd camp over in the one of the sites off of
the Lakeside Trail if he could find an empty one."

"Okay," Rachel said. "That's about a twenty-minute drive from Pepper.
I'll see if I can get somebody there to check it out for me. I'll call
you back if I find out anything." She hung up and Jonathan was left
listening to the dial tone.

**********

Clark knew this area of the Domino Lake Campgrounds as well as he did
the landscape around Smallville. He cut through the woods for a short
distance until he reached the trail that led down to the Convenience
Center and broke into a trot. His eyesight had recovered a good deal
since the night, two nights ago, when he and Lois had been threading
their way alongside a stream high in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado,
escaping a pair of searchers from LexCorp. Lois had been right, he
thought. His powers might be taking their time about it but they were
coming back. If only they would hurry up a little. It would be really
convenient right now if Superman were able to put in an appearance.

But it was obvious that, although his powers were slowly returning, they
weren't up to Superman level yet. Leaves and various creepers and pieces
of underbrush slapped him uncomfortably in the face as he hurried along
and once he tripped noisily over a root that he didn't remember being
there before, and landed on his hands and knees in the dirt. He picked
himself up as quickly as he could and hurried on.

It took a good twenty minutes to reach the Convenience Center. There
were fewer people evident now, and Clark headed directly for the phones.

But, when he put the phone to his ear, no dial tone greeted him. He
pushed the lever for the return of his quarters.

No quarters. He fished out two more but as he started to insert them an
older man with white hair and an equally white mustache touched his
elbow. "Don't bother," he said. "The phones are out. Somebody tried
calling on a cell phone but there's no one on at the phone company. At
least not the local branch. They said they'd send someone out in the
morning."

"Oh great." Clark paused. "I really need to make a call. Do you have a
cell phone?"

The helpful camper shook his head. "Sorry. Ask around. Somebody here's
probably got one."

**********

Rachel left the Coroner's Office and got into her squad car. She had
left the forensics team from Wichita combing the area around the
dumpster, taking samples and looking for anything else that might give
them more information. It was now past ten, and it looked as if it was
going to be a long night. Not that she would get any sleep if she went
home right now, she knew. She frowned at the dashboard of the car, thinking.

Benjamin Maher had found the Kent farm and had to have been killed
shortly afterwards -- probably before Clark and Lois had even left for
their camping trip. Why?

Well, she thought, suppose the enforcer had already arrived and was
looking for the farm, and that he'd somehow learned from Maher that he'd
found it. Maybe Maher had told him. Or maybe, she thought suddenly, he
had taken Maher's place before he even had gone to the Kent farm. What
if the man Clark had spoken to was actually the enforcer?

There had already been two attempts to kill Lois Lane in the last week,
and this guy was supposed to be one of the best. He most likely wouldn't
have done anything right there at the farm, but what if he'd hung around
the place, intending to try to learn something from the Kents when they
returned from town, figured out that Lois and Clark were there, and
followed them? Lois's death had to look like an accident and accidents
happened around lakes, where a person could drown, and woods where
someone could fall and be hurt and unable to call for help. He could
very well be at the lake campgrounds right now.

Rachel reached for her radio. "Jane, are you there?"

"Right here, Sheriff," the dispatcher's voice responded. "I was just
leaving."

"Radio Cal and tell him to take over for me. And then call Dan Wilson
for me. Tell him we've had a murder and the killer may be headed for
Dan's favorite fishing spot -- the one where he caught the forty-two
pound cat." Deputy Wilson in the little sheriff's office in Pepper would
know what she meant, she thought. The reporters all over Smallville
probably had their scanners tuned to the police frequency, but nobody
but she and her deputies knew where Dan's favorite fishing spot was --
at Domino Lake where he'd caught the biggest catfish she'd seen in
several years. "Tell him to have an ambulance on standby and to contact
the ranger station. Tell them to try to locate Clark Kent and Lois Lane.
I'll be there in an hour."

**********
tbc

cccc

   ----------

Wedding Rearrangement
By Nan Smith
Rated:
Submitted:


The sky outside his office window was darkening. William Henderson glanced out
at the rising moon, glowing mistily through the light haze above the city. It
had been nearly a week, he thought, since his men had discovered the
Kryptonite-coated cage in the basement of Lex Tower and there had still been no
sign of Superman, in spite of the most intense search. No one had found a body,
but the last shreds of hope were beginning to fade. It was entirely possible
that Luthor, or his minions, had somehow disposed of the body in such a way that
it was extremely unlikely that it would be found.

The thought that Superman might actually be dead produced an emotion that he
hated: real, genuine grief.

Normally, he was able to place the deaths of victims in perspective. He and his
men couldn't save everyone; all they could do was to be as diligent as possible
in bringing the perpetrator to justice. They had limits, being only human, but
Superman had been able to do things that his people couldn't. He'd been able to
help many people in ways that were outside the resources of the police. He had
accomplished seeming miracles. If Luthor had been able to destroy the man who
had come to them nearly a year before and given hope to the entire city, there
wasn't anything he and his men could do but damn the billionaire's soul. He
would have quenched that hope forever. He would have destroyed Henderson's hope
that things would be better. He would have killed Henderson's friend.

The Inspector deliberately pushed the morbid thoughts away. Nothing was certain
yet. Superman might have some reason for failing to contact anyone, to reassure
the public that he was still alive, but Henderson couldn't imagine what it might
be.

The phone rang, jolting him out of his reflections. He snatched up the receiver
in some relief. "Henderson."

"Inspector? This is Superman."

It might be a hoax, but somehow he knew it wasn't. There was something very
familiar about the soft voice with the Midwestern accent. For an instant, he
wasn't able to identify the emotion that surged through him. It was sheer joy,
followed an instant later by anger at the unnecessary worry that he had been
enduring for over a week. "Where the devil have you been?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to contact you before," the Kryptonian's voice said,
sounding, he thought, genuinely regretful.

"What happened?" Henderson asked, more gently. "We found the cage in the
basement of Lex Tower."

"That's why I was calling," Superman's voice said. "I wanted to ask you if you
can dispose of it for me."

"I'll see what I can do," Henderson said. "But --"

"Luthor trapped me in that cage, Bill." Superman's voice was soft. "He nearly
killed me. Until a little while ago, I wasn't sure I'd be able to come back at
all." A hesitation. "I wasn't able to get in touch with you until now, and I
sincerely apologize for making you think ... what you did. If you could let
anyone who needs to know that I'm alive ... and will probably be able to come
back in a week or two ... I'd appreciate it."

"A week or two?" Henderson said, quickly rearranging his thoughts. Apparently
there had been some reason for him to worry after all.

"Probably," Superman said. "I'm getting better. I hope in a couple of weeks
everything will be back to normal. Don't pass that along to anyone, please. I'd
rather it wasn't general knowledge."

Henderson could understand that. "I don't see why anyone else should be
interested," he said, not exactly truthfully. "In any case, it's nobody's
business."

"Thank you," Superman said. "I appreciate it. I'll contact you when I'm ready to
make my reappearance. Goodbye, Bill -- and thanks again."

"You're welcome," Henderson said.

Superman hung up, and the Inspector put down the phone, amazed at the sudden
lift to his mood. It wasn't surprising, though, he rationalized. Superman was a
great asset to the Metro PD. Ah hell, why not admit the truth for once?
Henderson didn't have many real friends, and he counted Superman as one of them.
He was genuinely glad that his friend was still alive.

After a moment's thought, he picked up the phone and dialed the number of the
editor of the Daily Planet. If anyone deserved to hear the news ahead of
everyone else, it was Perry White, and he doubted that Superman would mind. And,
after that, he would return to his task of following the trail of the persons
who had tapped Perry White's phone and arranged the accident that had nearly
killed Luthor's widow. Somebody wanted Lois Lane dead, and Henderson had every
intention of nailing "The Mrs." With a moniker like that, one of the first
places to look was in Luthor's history. If the man had been married before, it
might shed a lot of light on the mystery.

At the other end of the line, someone picked up the receiver. "Hello?" Perry
White's voice said.

"Hello, Perry," Henderson said, "I have some news ..."

**********

"That makes me feel better," Clark said. "After Perry told me Henderson thought
Superman was dead, I couldn't let that go on any longer."

"Yeah," Lois said. "Henderson can be a pain sometimes, but he's a good guy.
Don't tell him I said that, though."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Clark said. "He was itching to arrest Luthor, you know
-- he just didn't have enough evidence until Jimmy and Perry took the
information we'd collected to him. Apparently once it was in his hands, he
pulled a judge off the golf course to issue the warrant."

"Why couldn't he just get another judge?" Lois asked.

Clark lifted an eyebrow. "Why do you think? He wanted one he was sure of -- not
some guy who was in Luthor's back pocket."

"Oh," Lois said. "Yeah. It's still a little hard to realize how far Lex's
influence went. It shouldn't be a surprise. I guess a lot of people are ducking
for cover right now."

"Well, Perry told me there's at least three judges, a couple of assistant DAs
and a number of cops under investigation. Another judge has disappeared.
According to his spokesman he's gone on a health retreat because of on-the-job
stress."

"Should I wager anything on the odds that he'll ever come back?" Lois asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine. The heads of several companies that had dealings
with LexCorp are under suspicion as well, and --" He broke off with a shrug. "I
doubt you want to know the details. LexCorp is coming down like a house of
cards."

"Yeah," she said. "I saw it starting before we left Metropolis. I only wish I
could help, rather than hide from the press this way."

Clark nodded silently and put his arm around her. "Unfortunately, if we were in
Metropolis, instead of writing the story, you'd *be* the story," he said. "Perry
told me the Star is already trying to turn you into a gold digger who only
married Luthor for his money. The Planet is defending you, and once you finish
the legal stuff and the Superman Foundation takes control of the funds, it will
make them look like fools."

"I can't say that makes me feel all that bad," Lois said, a little maliciously.

Clark chuckled softly. "Perry said the same thing. In fact, he sent Jack out to
give them some choice quotes that they'll probably use as 'an anonymous source',
and end up making them look worse than ever when the real story comes out. He
said he normally wouldn't do something like that, but they were being so vicious
that he decided to teach them a lesson. I guess they can't conceive of you
actually giving away the money, so they think they can get away with it."

"Good for him," Lois said. "I'm going to enjoy watching them flounder. Perry
told me he'll get hold of the Superman Foundation's legal representatives
tomorrow and start getting the documents drawn up. He thought it was a great
idea. I did tell him that I wanted everyone who lost his job because of Lex's
bomb to be compensated for lost wages and given a bonus for all the emotional
distress they went through. Maybe that will help make up for some of what Lex
did to them. Money may not buy happiness, but it can make up for a lot of
unhappiness -- especially mine. I hope Lex is spinning in his grave."

"I think," Clark said, "that Superman will give a very public speech thanking
you for the money, which will be used to repair the damage that Luthor has done,
as much as possible, and thank the Daily Planet for not jumping to conclusions,
unlike 'certain other publications'. What do you think?"

Lois giggled. "I like it. Just don't lay it on too thick. When I go back, I'm
going to be careful to give personal interviews to papers that didn't slander
me, and snub the ones that did. There's no better way of getting even with a
newspaper."

Martha Kent knocked on the wall before entering the room. "Lois's bed is all
made up. You can have the couch, Clark -- unless...?" She looked hopefully at
them. Lois and Clark looked at each other for a moment and simultaneously burst
into laughter.

"We're not," Lois said between sputters, "unless you count huddling up to each
other to keep warm at night in the mountains."

Martha laughed. "Oh well, six months isn't so long. You know where to find the
blankets, Clark."

Clark could tell he was scarlet. "Mom, you're incorrigible!"

"Well, a mother can hope," Martha said, sending Lois into another fit of
giggles.

"And I used to think you got your Midwestern values from your upbringing," she
said, after Martha had departed.

"I did," Clark said. "What makes you think we Midwesterners are saints? Weren't
you the one who talked about me giving a girl a hickey behind the Dairy Freeze?"

"*Did* you ever give a girl a hickey?"

He grinned. "No. It always seemed kind of mean to me -- sort of like a guy was
trying to put his brand on a girl. Besides, Lana would have killed me, and
Rachel would have done worse."

"I've never met Lana, but I can believe it about Rachel. Does she know we're
here, do you know?"

"I have no idea. Probably not. I don't think anyone has had time to call her."

"We probably should. If any more 'journalists' -- to use the word loosely --
show up here, we're going to want her to know what's going on so she can be
ready."

"I'll call her in the morning," Clark said. "She's probably already gone home
for the day by now."

"Considering it's nearly ten, I believe it," Lois said. "Why don't you show me
my room, Mr. Kent?"

"Anything you wish, Ms. Lane," Clark said.


**********

Rachel Harris entered the small office that belonged to the Sheriff of
Smallville just as the phone on her desk rang. The day was definitely starting
early, she thought. She shook her head and crossed to the desk to answer on the
second ring. "Sheriff's office."

"Hi, Rachel!" The voice was familiar, and it took her a moment before she
recognized Clark Kent.

"Clark?"

"That's right. I thought I'd better call you first thing, and let you know I'm
in Smallville."

"You're here?"

"I'm at my parents' farm," Clark said. "I heard from Mom and Dad that there have
been some reporters hanging around."

"If you want to call them that," Rachel said.

Clark's voice laughed dryly. "No comment."

Rachel also laughed. "I guess you're hiding out from them for now, huh?"

"Kind of," Clark agreed.

"What's the real story?" she couldn't help asking. "The rumors are flying about
you and Mrs. Luthor."

"Lois Lane," Clark said, firmly. "She never took Luthor's name. Look, Rachel, I
don't want to be seen in public for now. If you'd like to drop by when you have
time, I can give you the whole story."

"I might do that," Rachel said. Another thought occurred to her. "Is Miss ... uh
... Lane there with you?"

Clark's voice hesitated for a long moment. "Yes," he said, finally. "You didn't
hear that, by the way. Someone with his eye on Luthor's fortune apparently wants
her dead -- and, of course, every news service in the country is after her. She
has to stay out of sight until a month after Luthor's death, so no one will
profit by managing to dispose of her."

Rachel could feel her eyebrows climbing at the statement. "You're sure of this?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Clark said. "Our pilot bailed out and left us to crash. If
I didn't know how to land a plane, we'd be dead."

"Oh," Rachel said. That hadn't been in the news conference. There had been a
report of an attempted assault on Mrs. Luthor, but it had been fairly vague,
with a strong implication by the media that the so-called incident had been
simply an overreaction by Mrs. Luthor to an overly aggressive reporter.
Evidently there was more to the story. A thought occurred to her. "And I suppose
it's possible that whoever is after Miss Lane could show up in Smallville."

"Let's say it wouldn't be impossible," Clark's voice said, sounding a little
grim. "They know Lois is hiding somewhere, and when they decide she isn't in
Metropolis, the next place they're going to look is here."

"All right," Rachel said, after a moment, "I guess we'd better not do too much
talking on the phone. I'll try to make time to come out there when I can. Um ...
you'll be there, won't you?"

"We're not going anywhere for now," Clark said.

"All right," Rachel said. "Expect me when you see me."

Clark hung up and Rachel put down the receiver. The conversation with Clark had
given her plenty to think about. The thought of big-time city crime and
corruption coming to Smallville wasn't something that she liked but, if it did,
it was up to her to root it out. It looked like a visit to the Kent farm to get
the whole story was on her agenda this morning.

Greg, one of her deputies, who was just pulling into the little parking lot next
to the Sheriff's Office, looked oddly at her as she headed for her squad car. 
"Going somewhere, Sheriff?"

"Yeah. If you need me, call my cell phone," Rachel said. "And if any more of
those vultures show up looking for the Kents, send them out by way of Potter's
Slough, would you?"

Greg snorted. "Actually, I was thinking of Whittaker's Bog," he said. "That
should keep them busy for a few hours. Especially if they take the long way
around the lake and past the power station."

"Sounds even better," Rachel said, recalling the maze of rutted, dirt and gravel
roads that the unfortunate members of the media would have to traverse. "Do
that. Might let Dan, at the service station, know if you do, so the truck can be
out of service when they call. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Greg nodded matter-of-factly and proceeded on into the Sheriff's Office.

**********

The Kent farm looked peaceful and serene in the morning sunlight.  The four milk
cows that the Kents maintained were grazing placidly in a nearby field, and not
far away, in a smaller field adjoining the one with the cows, Espresso, their
new coal-black stud bull was lying in the shade of a tree. Rachel pulled her
squad car into the bare area in front of the house and cut the engine.  A pair
of chickens wandered aimlessly by, pecking at the ground, as she got out and
slammed the door.  The terrier mix, that had been around for the past year,
ambled out to greet her and followed her toward the house, sniffing at the backs
of her legs. She noted that Jonathan Kent had finally surrendered to the
inevitable, as the dog now wore a collar and a brand new license tag.

As she climbed the steps to the big front porch, the door opened and Clark Kent
said, "Come on in, Rachel."

She stepped into the homey living room.  A dark-haired woman in a pair of loose
jeans, pulled tightly around her waist by a wide, leather belt, and a shirt that
looked like one of Jonathan Kent's, was sitting on the sofa, and Rachel
recognized Lex Luthor's widow, Lois Lane.

"I guess you know Lois," Clark said. "Can I get you some coffee?"

"Sure."  Rachel glanced around. "Are your parents here?"

Clark shook his head.  "Dad's out working in the barn, I think. I told him I'd
talk to you.  Mom went into town to get Lois some clothes. Have a seat.  I'll
get the coffee."

Rachel took the rocking chair, regarding the heiress curiously.  Somehow, she
had expected the woman to have changed from the hard-driven reporter that she
had met months previously, and in that, she had been correct, but the changes
were not the ones she might have expected.  Gone was the abrasive, almost
arrogant female journalist.  In her place was a pale-faced woman in too-large
clothing, with a faintly grim set to her mouth and chin. She didn't look like a
woman who had come suddenly into a fortune.

"I guess the story the media is telling isn't the whole one," Rachel said, after
an uncomfortable pause.

Lois Lane shook her head. "Not exactly."

"Want to tell me what happened?" Rachel asked.

"We intend to."  Clark re-entered the room, a cup and saucer in his hands. "You
take two sugars, if I remember right."

"That's right."  Rachel took the coffee cup, inhaling the aroma.  Martha Kent's
coffee was so far above the stuff brewed in her office that the concoctions
might have been two different beverages entirely.

Clark handed a second cup and saucer to Lois Lane and disappeared momentarily,
reappearing almost at once with a third cup.  He took a seat on the sofa, facing
Rachel. "We thought you should know what happened, in case anybody who shouldn't
comes snooping around. They could."

"So I gathered from what you said on the phone."

"All right, then," Clark said. He glanced at Lois Lane.  "Do you want to tell
it, or shall I?"

Lois sipped her coffee.  "Go ahead."

"All right."  He regarded the woman beside him in a way that made Rachel faintly
uneasy.  There was almost an intimacy to the look.  Then, he turned to Rachel. 
"I'm sure you heard what happened to Luthor. Perry White, Jimmy Olsen, Jack
Brown and I worked together to prove that he was behind the bombing of the
Planet.  When the police showed up to arrest him, he chose to dive out the
window of the Lexor rather than be arrested. Lois hid out at my place for
several days, and then we decided that the best thing we could do was to get out
of town ..."

Rachel listened in silence as Clark told the story of the plane trip, the
vanishing pilot, the hike through the mountains, their encounter with the
"search team" from LexCorp, the attempt on Lois Lane's life at the ranger
station, and finally their escape from the media and their arrival at the Kent
farm.  When he finished, she looked at the two reporters for a long moment in
silence.

"Wow," she said at last.  "That's quite a story. So now what?"

"We decided," Lois Lane said, "that I should stay out of sight until a month has
passed since Lex's death.  After that, by the laws of the state of New Troy, my
death won't help whoever is after Lex's money.  In the meantime, our editor and
my lawyers are preparing for me to donate his fortune to the Superman
Foundation. That will get it out of my life. But, until then, whoever tried to
kill me is going to be hunting for me and one of the obvious places for them to
look is Smallville. They could easily show up pretending to be another team of
reporters."

Rachel had already thought of that. She nodded briskly. "We'll do our best to
keep the mob away," she said, "and I'll alert my men to keep an eye on them --
without telling them you're here, of course. The fewer who know it, the better
it will be for everybody, I think. The story will be that there have been some
anonymous threats against the Kents. There are always a few nutballs who send
threats to anyone in the news, you know -- usually people looking for vicarious
thrills. We've actually had a couple about your parents, as a matter of fact."

"You have?" Clark looked alarmed.

"Yeah. One was from a high schooler over at Smallville High. He apologized to
Martha and Jonathan after we caught him. He was just trying to cause some
excitement. He did, too. We charged him with malicious mischief and Judge
Tibbets ordered him to perform two hundred hours of community service. His dad
wasn't satisfied, though.  He's got him cleaning out barns, for free, all over
the county, and I'd say his summer vacation is pretty much shot. The other one
was from a guy in his fifties who makes a regular habit of it. We recognized the
style right away and he's got a court date next week."

"Oh. Norville Greene," Clark said, obviously relaxing. "I should have figured."

"How'd you know that?" Rachel asked, in surprise.

"I used to live around here, remember," Clark pointed out, dryly. "And I *was*
the editor of the Smallville Press."

"Yeah, I guess you were," Rachel admitted. "It's just that you're a big city
reporter now. I didn't think you'd remember."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "I'm still from Smallville. I never forget that."

Rachel smiled, conceding the fact. Clark might be an ace reporter for the Daily
Planet now, but she still remembered the sweet, awkward boy who had played with
her as a child, and later become the handsome captain of the football team in
high school. He'd dated Lana Lang in their senior year, but he'd ended up taking
Rachel to the prom because of Lana's mysterious case of poison ivy that appeared
two days before the prom.

Rachel had a fairly good idea how that case of poison ivy had come about
although she'd never told Clark, since she didn't know for sure. Besides,
gossiping about Lana wouldn't have improved Clark's opinion of her. Rachel's
cousin, Vern Whipple, had been flirting with Lana for weeks, and he had
coincidentally turned up with a poison ivy rash at the very same time, one that
covered him from head to toe according to his mother, who had told Rachel's
mother within Rachel's hearing. Tuttle Park, traditionally a favorite location
and Lover's Lane for high school kids (or the Passion Pit, as her father had
referred to it) was also well known for its poison ivy. Every year there was an
effort to clear it out, and every spring it came back as thick as ever. But
Lana's poison ivy rash had covered her shoulders and arms, and, Rachel had heard
from other female friends, a number of other places that it ought not to have
contacted at all. Lana had been confined to her house for over a week, leaving
Clark without a date for the prom. And so he'd asked Rachel, who had been more
than willing to take up the slack.

But now, Lois Lane was Clark's partner at the Daily Planet. Rachel had seen the
way they interacted on their previous visit to Smallville, when those crazy
government agents had been looking for a rock that they thought would kill
Superman, and their leader had tried to shoot Clark in the back. When she'd
heard that Lois Lane was the intended of Lex Luthor, Metropolis's most prominent
citizen, she'd hoped that maybe Clark would come back to Smallville for a time.
He had come back, all right -- but with Mrs. Luthor in tow. Still, the situation
wasn't exactly romantic. Maybe she could manage to get Clark alone while he was
here and casually inquire into their situation.

In any case, she had a job to do. Lois Luthor -- or Lane, she amended, since
Clark had stressed that his partner had never taken Luthor's name -- was quite
probably in danger. Men and women had been murdered over fifty dollars, much
less the ten or so billion that she had apparently inherited from her husband of
less than an hour. If a quarter of the things that the papers were feverishly
reporting about the world's third richest man were true, he'd undoubtedly had
associates that wouldn't balk for an instant over the idea of murdering his
widow in order to remove her as his main heir; or was that heiress? Some of the
reporting teams already in Smallville might very well be agents of whoever it
was that wanted Lois Lane dead. Since she and Clark had successfully evaded the
assassin at the ranger station, as well as the various representatives of the
media, the hunt for her was probably in high gear by now.

She set down her empty coffee cup. "I'd better get back and put things in
motion," she said. "We'll do our best to keep the wolves away from the farm but
do me a big favor and stay out of sight, both of you. If the word gets out that
you're here, Superman himself couldn't keep the media away."

Clark glanced at Lois Lane and Rachel saw her smile faintly. "We'll do our
best," Clark said, getting to his feet. "Thanks, Rach. I knew we could count on
you."

**********

After the Sheriff had gone, Lois looked after the trail of dust that her car had
made in the driveway. Rachel was a very pretty girl, in a corn-fed kind of way,
and she sure seemed to have an eye for Clark. "You took her to the prom?"

"Uh huh," Clark said. "Why?"

"Was she a serious girlfriend?"

"Huh?" Clark seemed genuinely surprised. "No, not really. We dated a few times
in high school but in my senior year Lana Lang was my steady."

"Really? Then why did you take Rachel to the prom?"

Clark's mind seemed to be somewhere else. "Oh, that. Lana came down with poison
ivy at the last minute, Rachel didn't have a date and I didn't either, so I
called her. We went and had a good time. That was all there was to it."

"Oh," Lois said.

Clark seemed to pull his attention back to her. "Sorry. I was checking out my
telescopic vision. Don't tell me you're worrying about Rachel?"

"No -- not really," Lois said.

"Good, because you shouldn't. You're the one that I lie awake at night thinking
about; not Rachel."

"Really?" she said, gratified.

"Yep."

"Oh," Lois said. She cleared her throat. "How's your telescopic vision coming
along?"

"It's better. Still not back to where it was before the cage."

"Have any of your other powers come back?"

"Hearing -- some, anyway. I want to go out into the barn and see if I can lift
some of Dad's farm machinery where no passersby can see me. That should tell me
where I am, physically." He glanced around. "The pickup's gone. Dad said
something earlier about going into town to get a part for the tractor. I guess
he did."

"How about flying?" she asked.

He closed his eyes and she held her breath. He opened his eyes and shook his
head. "Not yet."

"Well, give it a little more time," she said. "It will come back."

"I think you're probably right," he said. "I sure hope you are."

"I am. Give it time." She slipped her hand into his. "You keep telling me to
have patience and stay out of the investigation in Metropolis, and I'm telling
you the same thing about your powers. It's not easy for either of us but it's
important. Superman will be back -- and so will Mad Dog Lane. Eventually."

**********

"Good. As soon as you have the papers drawn up, I'll fax a copy to Lois so she
can look it over and make any corrections. Right." Perry White put down the
phone and picked up the copy of the Metropolis Star that lay on his desk. A
photo of Lois taken for her wedding announcement with Lex Luthor was prominently
displayed on the front page, along with the caption: "The Ultimate Gold Digger?"
The other paper had obviously given up all pretense of objectivity. The editor
of the Star had a bone to pick with Lois dating back two years and the man was
playing it for all it was worth. It was going to be eminently satisfying to
watch him try to save face when the headline hit the Planet announcing the
donation of virtually the entire fortune to the Superman Foundation, minus
whatever amount it took to compensate employees who had been impacted by the
destruction of the Daily Planet. For just a few seconds, Perry allowed himself
to dwell pleasurably on the thought. Scoring a few points over his old rival
wouldn't hurt his feelings either, but mostly he was looking forward to it
because of Lois and on basic principle. The kind of shenanigans that the Star
was engaging in was what gave honest newspapers a bad name. People got the idea
that all of them had an agenda, instead of simply being in the business of
reporting the news accurately and fairly, so that the readers could make up
their own minds.

It had turned out that Lois's inheritance of Luthor's legitimate financial
assets was larger than they had thought at first. At least, no one had been able
to prove that certain questionable parts of his immense wealth had not been
acquired legally and the legitimate amount of the man's fortune totaled in the
neighborhood of twenty-seven billion. Although a very large chunk of his assets
were just as unquestionably gained through illegal means, the thirteen and a
half billion that was Lois's share was no small sum to simply give away.
Personally, Perry wasn't certain that he could do it if it were his instead of
Lois's. On the other hand, he could understand her reasons. Lois wasn't the kind
of person who could comfortably live behind electric fences and patrolling
Dobermans for the rest of her life.

Jack Brown crossed the Pit and stopped to speak to Jimmy Olsen by the copy
machine. Those two boys were a dreadful duo, he thought with some amusement, but
they were a formidable team. When he wanted something done a little outside the
normal channels, he hadn't found anybody better, except possibly Lane and Kent.
They'd been very busy during the last day.

There was a knock on his door and he sighed in resignation. It was that
psychiatrist again. The woman had somehow convinced Mr. Stern that some of the
Daily Planet's employees might be suffering from stress and that having a staff
psychiatrist available might improve the mental health and thereby the
productiveness of the staff. Perry wasn't nearly as sure of it as Mr. Stern
seemed to be, but he hadn't been given a choice.

"Come in," he called.

Arianna Carlin was a very beautiful woman, probably, Perry judged, in her early-
to mid-thirties. Not only was she a doctor of psychiatry, she was also the
author of several books and wrote a syndicated column for newspapers all across
the country. She stepped through the door, smiling sweetly at him.

"I was wondering," she said. "I know that you can't give any information out
about the location of Lois Luthor and Clark Kent, but since they're both listed
as employees, surely they have to return to work eventually. I'm very eager to
speak with them -- especially Mrs. Luthor. The trauma that she has endured can't
help but have an effect on her emotional health. Surely you can give me some
information about that?"

She paused, an expectant smile hovering on her lips.

Perry resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. "Lois *Lane*," he emphasized, "is
taking an extended sabbatical. She and Kent will be returning after some of the
media circus has died down. I'm afraid I can't tell you any more than that."

Dr. Carlin frowned. "Surely, she understands her new situation," she said.
"She's become a very wealthy woman. Frankly, I don't understand how she can
possibly be an effective reporter, given the circumstances."

Perry shook his head. "Why don't you let Lois and me worry about it, Doctor," he
said. "I'm afraid I can't discuss Lois with anyone at the present time."

"I'm only concerned over how her new situation will affect her and the Daily
Planet," she said. "Her refusal to use Lex ... Luthor's name only emphasizes the
fact that she has failed to accept the fact that she's his wife. Or widow," she
added, belatedly. "That kind of denial seems to indicate bigger problems that
I'm very anxious to help her explore."

"Regardless of that," Perry said mildly, "I think you'd do better counseling the
people here. After Lois gets back is more than time to decide what -- if
anything -- needs to be done."

"I suppose you're right," the psychiatrist said, "but I take my responsibilities
very seriously."

"I'm sure you do," Perry said. "However, that's for later. Is there anything
else?"

"No," Dr. Carlin said. "Do you have an approximate date for her return, or a way
to contact her?"

"The answer to the first question is I'm afraid not," Perry said. "As for
getting hold of her, I believe she and Kent are on a cruise ship, but I don't
know which one and I'm told they're registered under pseudonyms to keep the
press off their backs. She's contacted me twice, so far, to have someone feed
her fish and to let me know that she and Kent were all right, after their
adventure in the mountains."

"Oh," Dr. Carlin said. She put a hand on the doorknob. "I'll be in my office if
anyone wishes to speak to me." She smiled fractionally. "I wish that you would
speak to your staff, Perry. None of them have taken advantage of my
availability, so far."

Perry could understand that. "I'll mention it in the morning briefing," he said.

"Thank you," Arianna said.

Perry looked thoughtfully after Dr. Carlin as the door closed behind her. He
might be mistaken, but he hadn't become editor of the Daily Planet because he
could yodel and if she hadn't been handing him a load of bullsh ... uh,
psychobabble, then he was Elvis's first cousin once removed. Well, the thought
of Dr. Carlin being involved in the attempt on Lois's life wasn't a pleasant one
but she seemed a little too interested in the whereabouts of Lois and Clark for
Perry's peace of mind. After a long moment spent frowning at the closed door, he
got to his feet. He'd been a pretty decent investigative reporter not all that
long ago. It was time to put a little of his old knowledge to work. Maybe it was
just his overactive imagination, but considering the apparent attempts on Lois's
life, he wasn't willing to simply let it slide. Better to be sure. If his
instinct was right, Arianna Carlin wouldn't be the first person to put money
ahead of reputation and ethics, after all. If she had been planted here in the
office to try to find out where Lois was hiding, he -- and Henderson -- needed
to know it. Making up his mind, Perry went to the door and pushed it open.

"Olsen!" he barked. "In my office, now!"

**********

"Somehow I thought of a barn as different," Lois said, wrinkling her nose
slightly. There was a definite aroma of animals in the big building, in spite of
the fact that the door was wide open. "I expected it to be full of cows and
chickens or something."

"The cows are out in the field right now," Clark pointed out. "They don't stay
in the barn 24/7. And neither do the chickens. Besides, we have a hen house." He
made his way past the tractor. "Dad keeps his tools and stuff back here." He
pointed to one of the three storerooms near the rear of the barn. "There's feed
in that one. Dad said he had to go into town to get a new belt for the tractor.
The old one is worn."

"Do tractors wear belts?" Lois asked. She glanced up at the faint scrabbling
sound of claws in time to see an orange cat leap gracefully from one wooden beam
to another and vanish into the loft.

"This one is for the fan," Clark said. After a moment's consideration, Lois
dismissed the mental picture of a revolving fan.

"I guess you don't mean the kind of fan for cooling people off," she said. "I
don't know a lot about tractors."

"No; this is the kind of fan for cooling the engine off," Clark said. "Pretty
much the same as for a car engine. Last time I was here, a couple of weeks ago,
he was talking about the tractor's motor overheating." He guided her past
stacked bales of hay, around several bags that probably held feed, and opened
one of the splintery wooden doors. "Watch your step. There's a lot of stuff in
here to trip over."

"What are you looking for?" Lois asked.

"Something heavy but not too heavy," Clark said. "I want to see if my strength
is coming back at all."

"Well, how about that big iron thing," Lois said, pointing. "That looks pretty
heavy."

Clark appeared to examine the big object carefully. "Okay, I guess it will do
for starters." He bent, trying to get a good grip. "Stay back. If I drop it, I
don't want it to land on your foot."

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"It's the engine block to Dad's old tractor," Clark said. "It's been in the barn
so long I'd forgotten about it."

Lois watched as he bent at the knees, gripped the thing, and heaved. The solid
chunk of iron came up off the floor but Lois could see the muscles bulge in his
arms and thighs, and sweat broke out on his face. After a moment, he lowered it
to the floor again and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. "Whew!"

"You did it!" Lois said.

"Yeah, but I had to work," Clark said. "I'm not back yet."

"How much does that thing weigh?" Lois asked, glancing at it. A big chunk of
iron that size had to be pretty heavy.

"Only about five hundred pounds," Clark said, sounding discouraged.

"*Only* five hundred pounds? Clark, do you know how many normal men can lift
five hundred pounds like that? The only people who can lift stuff that heavy are
professional weight lifters. I'd say you're doing pretty well!"

"I lifted it when I was fifteen," Clark said. "That's why it's in here instead
of out in the main barn. Dad wanted it out of the way. It was easier then."

"Okay," Lois said, "but you hadn't been in a Kryptonite cage for hours and
hours, and picked up a case of Kryptonite poisoning when you were fifteen. The
point is, you're a lot stronger than you were only a couple of days ago. Your
powers are coming back. It's just going to take time." She put a hand on his
arm. "Like you always tell me; you have to have patience. If I can stay here in
Kansas, away from an investigation that I'm itching to dive into, you can wait a
little while to become Superman again, can't you?"

He looked down at her and she saw the faintly sulky look on his face relax into
a smile. "I guess you've got a point," he admitted. "I guess I'm acting like a
spoiled little kid, aren't I?"

"Well ... maybe just a little," she said. She slipped her arms around his waist.
"Look at it this way. If we can't get involved in the investigation, we can take
a little time off and ..." She hesitated before summoning up the nerve to say
it, "just be in love."

His face softened at her words. "You know, I haven't heard a better idea for a
long time," he said. "And Mom and Dad won't be back for a while yet."

"Gee, I hadn't thought of that," Lois said ironically.

He grinned. "I'll bet. It's too bad I can't take you over to Lover's Lane
tonight, but it probably wouldn't be too good an idea. There's too much chance
someone would see us. Rachel's deputies check the place pretty often, for
obvious reasons."

"Oh? Where's Lover's Lane around here?"

"Tuttle Park." He put his arms around her as well. "It's over on the east side
of town."

"Well, we could have your dad drive us there and we could go walking," Lois
suggested. "You can show me all the places that her deputies don't go."

"Nope; not a good idea," he said firmly. "Tuttle Park has a poison ivy problem.
They try to clear it out every winter and it comes back as thick as ever every
spring. I wouldn't want you to have to spend the next couple of weeks
recovering."

"Definitely not," Lois said. An idea occurred to her. "Was that how Lana got her
poison ivy?"

"You mean when I took Rachel to the prom?" He chuckled. "Probably; but I didn't
take her there. Rachel's cousin Vern had a real bad case at the same time. He
missed the prom, too. I always figured that they'd been out there together."

"Was that why you and Lana broke up?"

He shook his head. "No. You have to know Lana. She and I were friends but we
weren't really suited for each other. Besides, I had a scholarship at Midwest U
and Lana was headed out to Berkeley. We just kind of drifted apart after high
school. We stayed friends but we never had any serious intentions of getting
married."

"I wonder if she thought so," Lois said.

"Oh, sure," Clark said. "Lana had visions of becoming a business executive with
a penthouse apartment and tons of prestige in the business world, and a lowly
journalist wouldn't have suited her image."

"I happen to like your image," Lois said. "There are things more important than
prestige and penthouse apartments."

Clark grinned down at her. "Oh? And what would those be?"

"Well, let's see..."

**********

The sound of a vehicle pulling up outside the barn, some five minutes later,
interrupted what was becoming a very interesting non-conversation. Lois had been
just about to suggest that they move from the barn's storeroom into the house
when Clark lifted his head and Lois became aware of the somewhat uneven sound of
an engine and the crunch of tires on the ground outside. She was conscious of a
definite sense of disappointment at the knowledge that Martha or Jonathan was
back from town and began, rather resignedly, to move toward the main room of the
barn.

Clark's hand on her arm stopped her. "That's not one of our cars. Stay here out
of sight and I'll go see who it is."

She'd almost forgotten, for a few minutes, that she was a hunted woman, she
thought wryly. If some news team had finally managed to locate the Kent farm,
the last thing she wanted was to let them know that she was here.

The sound of the motor cut off. Clark picked up a shovel, mussed his hair
slightly, pulled the tail of his shirt, that he had tucked into his waistband,
out so that it hung loosely about his hips, and slouched out of the storeroom,
swinging the door partially closed behind him.

"Hey you!" The voice was male and Lois didn't recognize it, which wasn't
surprising. "Is this the Kent place?"

"Who are you?" Clark's voice asked.

"Ben Maher from the Topeka Intelligencer. I'm looking for Jonathan Kent. That
wouldn't be you, would it?"

"Nope," Clark's voice said. "I'm Jake. I just work here."

"Well, is he around?"

"Nope," Clark said. "Him and Mrs. Kent're over at the Garrison place. They're
butchering hogs this week. If you like, I'll tell him you were here."

"No; never mind." The man's voice dropped and Lois had to strain her ears to
hear what he said. "I'm actually looking for their son -- a Clark Kent. You
wouldn't know if he's here, would you?"

"Clark?" Clark said, sounding puzzled. "Far as I know, he ain't been here for
months. He works for that big newspaper in Metropolis. The one that got blown up
a couple of months back."

"I know. You sure you haven't seen him?"

"Yup." Lois could almost hear Clark nod. "Mr. Kent was talking about going to
Metropolis next week to see him. He's gonna be paying me extra to take care of
the place while him and the missus are gone."

"Well, do you mind if I look around the place a little, just to get a feel for
it?"

Lois could almost hear the slow shake of Clark's head. "'Fraid I can't do that.
Mr. Kent'd fire me on the spot. He's got pedigreed chickens and cows, and a
pedigreed stud bull and he's worried about rustlers stealing 'em. He don't want
no strangers wandering around his property. If'n he comes back and finds you
where you ain't supposed to be, he'll probably let you have it with his shotgun.
Loads it with rock salt. If you wanta talk to him, you better come back when
he's here." Lois resolutely clamped her mouth shut. Clark sounded like the
hayseed she'd wanted to believe he was when he'd first come to work at the
Planet. Superman might stand for truth and justice, and have that
straightforward boy-next-door charm, but he was also a gifted actor.

"Well, do you know when he'll be back?"

"Dunno." There was the effect of a shrug in Clark's voice. "Butchering hogs
usually takes all day. You could go over there, if you really wanta see him,
though."

"Where's this place?"

"It's over at the Garrison farm. They got a little, one-horse hog operation. You
want directions?"

The man sounded skeptical. "It's not over by that big swamp, is it?"

"Potter's Slough? Naw. You take the Whittaker cutoff ..."

Lois listened while Clark gave painstaking directions to the intrepid newsman
and waited as the motor came on again. Gravel sprayed and she heard the roar of
the engine diminishing. When the sound had died away completely, she emerged
from the barn. "Isn't the owner of that place going to be a little confused when
a newsman shows up there, looking for your father?"

"No," Clark said blandly. "The Garrison Hog Farm went out of business ten years
ago. Besides, I sent him over toward Whittaker's Bog."

Lois began to laugh. "I thought Superman never lied," she sputtered.

"Superman didn't lie," Clark said innocently, but she noticed that the corners
of his mouth were trying to turn up. "That was Jake. But now we'll have to
decide where we're going to hide out tomorrow when the guy shows up again
looking for my blood."

"We could bury him in your mom's garden," Lois suggested.

"No, I think I'll give Rachel a call so she'll be ready when Mr. Maher gets back
into town," Clark said. "And we'll have to warn Dad. Now that Maher's found the
place, the others are going to find it too."

**********

"Jake, huh?" Jonathan Kent grinned and glanced out the window at the gravel road
leading to the highway that passed the Kent farm at some distance from the
house. "Don't worry. If your friend shows up again, I'll deal with him. But I
thought I taught you better than that, son." He shook his head more in sorrow
than in anger. "Why in heaven's name didn't you send him out to Porcupine
Gulch?"

"It seemed like kind of a long way," Clark explained. "I wasn't sure he'd go for
it. Besides, I didn't want searchers to find his bleached bones there next
summer."

"I suggested we bury him in Martha's garden," Lois offered.

Jonathan snorted. "Not a good idea. We want the garden to keep producing
vegetables. I'm not sure he'd make good fertilizer; you remember the
Intelligencer, don't you, Clark?"

Clark made a face. "It's kind of a local version of the National Whisper," he
explained to Lois. "And almost the same quality."

"Still," Jonathan said, "he may not give directions to the other reporters. He
isn't going to want a bunch of competition."

"He'll probably do it just for the nuisance value," Lois said. "What are we
going to do? "

"Well..." Martha, who had remained silent up until now, spoke up. "If Maher
comes back asking for Jake, you can watch me do my best imitation of Maw
Clampett. By the time I'm through with him, he'll be over at the hospital,
getting his stomach pumped."

"Mom, you can't poison him!" Clark said. "A joke's a joke, but --"

"I don't intend to," Martha said, placidly. "I'll just serve him some of my beef
stew that I'm going to make for dinner tomorrow. It won't be my fault if he
thinks it's 'possum tails and skunk livers.' Or not much, anyway."

Lois managed to limit the guffaw that threatened to break loose to an
odd-sounding choke. She had no doubt that Martha would do exactly as she said.
If any reporters did manage to find the Kents, she had a strong suspicion that
they were going to regret it. Two days on the Kent farm had definitely changed
her opinion of country folks. She'd be willing to match them up against the
residents of Metropolis -- or any other city -- any day of the week and bet
heavily on Jonathan and Martha.

"And I'll deal with any questions about Jake," Jonathan said. "Don't worry about
that. You, however, need to be somewhere else," he added firmly. "I'd suggest
you take Lois sightseeing in some of the nearby towns -- or go to the library
over in Pepper. Nobody's going to be looking for you there."

"That's an idea," Lois said. "Do they have computers in the Pepper library --
and who the heck names a town Pepper, anyway?"

"I have no idea," Martha said. "If it were me, I'd have named it Zucchini."

Clark cast her a sharp glance, and it took Lois a moment to realize, from the
innocent expression on her face, that Clark's mother was joking.

"Actually," Clark said, "they named it Pepper because a big part of its
agriculture production a hundred years ago was different kinds of peppers. For
some reason the climate there is ideal for growing peppers -- or was -- so that
was what they named the town."

"Oh," Lois said. "How come I never heard about it before?"

"Well," Clark said, "its main crop isn't peppers anymore. The Dust Bowl
conditions kind of wiped out their pepper industry. They still grow some peppers
but not nearly in the quantity they used to. Their cash crop is mostly wheat."

"Oh," Lois said. Clark, naturally, would know such trivia. Superman must have
the time for a tremendous amount of reading, considering his super speed and
photographic memory. She wondered what other talents he hadn't thought to
mention to her. Getting to know all there was to know about Clark was going to
be a lifetime job. The thought made her smile.

"You can look up the history in their library if you want to," Martha said,
bringing her thoughts back to the current problem. "I agree with Jonathan -- it
would be better for you two not to be around if Mr. Maher comes back, especially
if he lets it be known that he's found the farm. I think you should pack up your
stuff and head for Pepper, or one of the other towns around here. Maybe check
into a motel or camp out by Callahan's Creek or maybe even at Domino Lake for
two or three days. I know the idea of camping probably doesn't set too well with
you right now, but if you take along enough supplies, and so forth, it won't be
anything like the walk through the mountains. Just be sure you have a cell phone
with you."

"We don't have any. Perry wanted to get them for us so we could report from the
field," Lois said unhappily. "Unfortunately, that was about the time Lex started
his campaign to bankrupt the Planet so he could buy it, so we never got them."

"That's all right," Martha said. "You can borrow mine. You can call us if you
need to and we can call you when we're sure the coast is clear again. We've got
plenty of camping gear. We used to take Clark there on weekend camping trips.
There's a camping area out there for families to camp and swim and hike and so
forth. And you can always camp on the beach, too."

Clark looked doubtfully at Lois. "What do you think?"

"Well --" Lois considered the idea dubiously. "I kind of overdosed on camping
out the last few days, but if we've got all the supplies we'll need --" The
thought of the mob of frenzied reporters, all trying to claw their way to her at
the Ranger station -- not to mention the assassin who had tried to kill her --
tipped her decision in favor of the expedition. "I guess we could manage it for
a day or two."

"And, Jonathan pointed out, "Clark will have plenty of time in the sun. Maybe a
few good tanning sessions will be enough to recharge his powers."

"What does the sun have to do with it?" Lois asked.

"I seem to absorb sunlight," Clark explained. "If I'm using my super powers a
lot at night, I start to feel tired sooner than if I'm doing the same thing in
the daylight. Dr. Klein, at STAR Labs, thinks Superman's powers come from
sunlight. He was going to run some tests but then I got distracted by the things
that have happened in the last few weeks and we didn't get around to it."

"Oh," Lois said. "Speaking of your powers, how are you feeling now? He lifted
the engine block for your old tractor," she added, to Jonathan. "He's definitely
stronger than he was yesterday."

"Yeah," Clark said, "but it was heavy. My powers are coming back, but awfully
slowly. The other time, with Trask, they came back all at once."

"That time," his father said, "you were exposed to the stuff for a few minutes
at most. You weren't stuck in a cage made of Kryptonite for hours on end, and
you didn't get sick from the radiation --"

"We don't *know* that's what made me sick," Clark said.

"Don't quibble," Martha said. "Can you think of anything else that would be
likely to make you that sick?"

"Well --"

"Exactly," his mother said, in what Lois had come to recognize as her "no
argument" tone of voice. "You've never been sick a day in your life except this
once. I think we can assume the Kryptonite caused it."

"Yeah, probably. I'm just worried that my powers won't come back all the way,"
Clark said. "I didn't realize how much I missed being Superman until they were
gone."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Martha said briskly. "Don't be a
pessimist, honey. All we know right now is that you're starting to get some of
your powers back. In the meantime, let's get the camping gear out and pack
everything you'll need in your rental car. I'll fix lunch so you don't have to
stop for food. The less you're seen anywhere around Smallville the better -- at
least for two or three days."

**********

Pepper looked very much like Smallville, Lois thought, except it was actually
smaller. Clark drove slowly down Main Street, past the greenery of a wide lawn
surrounding an incongruously small City Hall, while Lois took in the tiny,
farming town.

A pre-adolescent boy swooped past on a bicycle, cutting in front of the car so
close that Lois inhaled sharply, half-expecting the thump of the bumper
impacting with the bicycle and its rider. Clark swerved, simultaneously applying
the brake. The tires squealed in protest at such treatment, but the boy escaped
death by inches. The child never glanced back but rode on, apparently unaware of
the incident.

"It's a wonder to me how they ever manage to grow up," Lois said. "What are the
odds that a kid can pull something like that over and over and somehow never get
killed? It's a good thing you've got fast reflexes."

"I think they're getting better," Clark said after a pause.

"Your reflexes?"

"Yes. They're better than they were, but they're not back to normal."

"Give it time," Lois said quietly, putting a hand on his where it rested on the
gearshift. "Your mom is a smart lady."

"I know," Clark said. "I guess after my hearing started coming back yesterday, I
just kind of expected to be back to normal by today."

"Well, just because things don't work out like you expect, it doesn't mean they
won't come out okay," Lois told him. "And I'm not trying to play Pollyanna,
either. You don't know any more about this than I do, really. If you're no
stronger or faster tomorrow than you are today, *then* you can begin to worry,
but I think you've been improving ever since you got over that fever. Remember
when we were walking through the forest, that night before we found the
helicopter? You could see, even though I couldn't. I think your powers were
beginning to come back, and have been slowly but steadily getting better ever
since. It's just happening gradually."

Clark appeared to think that over and slowly nodded. "You could be right," he
said after a moment of strict attention to his driving. "I didn't think about
it, but maybe ...."

"Good," Lois said. "So, where are we going right now?"

"Well," Clark said, "I thought we'd go over to the library. You said earlier
that you wanted to get to a computer."

"I did, didn't I?" Lois said. "I don't know if it'll do me any good. I know
Henderson's looking for 'The Mrs.' I probably don't stand a chance. I just
wanted to see if Lex was married before. He said I was the only one, but he lied
about everything else, so why not that?"

"Why don't you call Jimmy?" Clark suggested. "If anybody can ferret out
something like that, it's him."

"That's a good idea. Is there a pay phone around anywhere?"

"Sure. There's one at the service station."

**********

Jimmy Olsen was working on the assignment given to him by his editor when the
phone on his desk rang.

A little surprised, he picked up the receiver. "Olsen."

"Jimmy?" Lois Lane's voice said.

"Just a minute." Jimmy lowered his voice instinctively. He knew that Lois and
Clark had gone to Smallville, since he had been the one to make arrangements for
Perry to rent the car for them in his name, but his boss had stressed that he
was to keep the information to himself. That psychiatrist, Arianna Carlin, had
asked him casually about Lois and Clark, and Jimmy had told her all kinds of
unimportant things about the two of them, but claimed ignorance of their
whereabouts. He glanced cautiously around, locating the woman. She was in her
office -- the smallest conference room the Planet had, which had been quickly
converted for her use. He could see her typing something -- probably that column
of hers that had replaced the jumble puzzle in the paper.

Cat was no longer here, of course. She had taken a job with the Star right after
the bombing of the Planet, but the new guy, Ralph What'sisname, was lounging by
the water cooler. In Jimmy's opinion, Perry had made a mistake hiring him to
replace Jerry, who had reported on local politics for the paper. He spent most
of his time gossiping and hitting on the women in the secretarial pool. Jimmy
didn't like him. He'd even tried to extract some gossip about Lois from Jimmy,
and Jimmy had politely told him to mind his own business. He didn't want Ralph
to find out that Lois had called. It would be all over the Planet building
inside of fifteen minutes.

But the guy was out of earshot as long as he kept his voice down. Keeping a
discreet eye on the traffic near his desk, Jimmy cupped his hand over his lips
and the receiver, although no one seemed to be paying him any attention.
Sometimes it was a good thing to be nearly the bottom man on the totem pole.
"Lois?" he asked softly, "is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," Lois said. "I was wondering if you could do something for me."

"Sure," Jimmy said.

"The thing about 'The Mrs.' gave me an idea. Do you think you could do some
research into Lex's background and find out if he'd ever been married before?"

"Not a problem," Jimmy said. "In fact, I was just starting it when you called.
The Chief had the same idea that you did."

"He did? Good!" Lois's voice paused. "If you need to get hold of us for the next
couple of days, phone Clark's parents. They'll get the message to us."

"Is something wrong?" Jimmy asked quickly.

"Not exactly. One of the reporters looking for us finally found the farm, so
Clark and I are going camping for a few days. I have a cell phone and Clark's
parents can get hold of us if you need them to."

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay. I'll let Perry know."

"Great," Lois said.

"Uh -- are you and CK all right? You had a pretty rough time of it."

"We're fine," Lois said. "We'll have something important to tell you when we get
back next month."

"All right," Jimmy said. The speculations that remark conjured up were
definitely something to spark the imagination. He hadn't missed the fact that CK
had had a heavy crush on Lois since the day he was hired. Jimmy had been upset
that Lois and Luthor were getting married, but CK, he thought, had been just
about as bummed out as a man could get. He was pretty sure that was what had
made Clark so determined to prove that Luthor was the criminal that all of them
suspected he was. Maybe things weren't as one-sided as he'd thought they were,
after all, now that Lois had come to her senses. "You two have a good time," he
added.

"Well, I'm not so sure about this camping thing, but at least the media hasn't
caught up with us yet," Lois said. "Call the Kents if you find anything, would
you?"

"Will do," Jimmy told her.

"Thanks. Bye."

"Bye," he answered.

**********

"Something important?" Clark said, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Sure." Lois checked the change slot, on the off chance that there might be
loose change in it. To her gratification, she discovered a quarter, which she
dropped triumphantly into her pocket. "I don't want to tell everybody, but I
think Jimmy and Perry deserve to know that we're getting married, after all
they've done to help us out. I think Perry might have been rooting for us all
along. He's said a few things that made me think he wasn't that happy about me
marrying Lex."

"Well --" Clark grinned sheepishly. "I've kind of wondered about that, myself."

"You know," Lois added, as they got back into the rental car, "one of the things
that made me decide on this camping trip was the idea of me getting you all to
myself for a couple of days -- without anybody around."

"We had that in the mountains," Clark pointed out.

"Yes, but we weren't engaged then," Lois said, clinching the argument.

"That's true," Clark agreed. "Maybe it will be a good sort of experiment,
finding out how we do together as an engaged couple."

"Maybe," Lois said. "Where is this camping spot that you and your parents used
to go to when you were a kid?"

"Over by Domino Lake," Clark said. "It's not that big a lake, but it's the only
real one in the area. Smallville Lake is about half the size -- sort of like a
big pond, and it's got a picnic area but no camping facilities. There's some
woods with both a camping and picnic area at Domino Lake -- people bring their
campers and tents and stuff. There's running water and restrooms, and little
concrete pits where you can build campfires -- and lots of privacy if you want
it. There's swimming, and hiking trails --"

"Sounds pretty civilized, compared to where we were," Lois commented.

"Yeah," Clark agreed. "There's bound to be a few other people around, but
they'll be in their own campsites, and we don't have to socialize if we don't
want to."

"That's fine with me," Lois said. "The people I've been around recently haven't
made me want to be a social animal again for a while -- except for your
parents," she amended. "At least they haven't mobbed me or tried to kill me."

Clark laughed. "I'm glad of that," he said. He started the engine. "Shall we be
on our way?"

"Let's." She fastened the seat belt. "There's not any poison ivy around there,
is there?"

"A little," he admitted. "We'll just have to be careful."

"You mean *I'll* have to be careful," she said.

"I'm not so sure of that," he said. "Who knows whether I'll react to poison ivy
now."

"Did you ever break out from it before you got your powers?"

"No, but I was careful to stay away from it."

"Believe me, it's not possible to stay completely away from it if it's anywhere
in the vicinity. All you can do is try your best, wear stuff that covers you up
mostly and wash a lot. If you're lucky, you don't get it."

"I thought you never went camping."

"I was a Girl Scout."

"Oh." He glanced sideways at her. "Is that why you knew how to start fires while
we were stranded?"

"No. I read about using a magnifying glass to start a fire in General Science. I
had to take it in my freshman year at Metro High."

"Oh," he said. "I guess I probably did, too -- but I didn't think about it. I'm
too used to using my heat vision."

"Well, it doesn't matter," Lois said. "This time we have matches and lighter
fluid, and a bunch of other stuff. Do you know how to pitch a tent?"

"Sure," he said. "Didn't they teach you in Girl Scouts?"

Lois shook her head. "No. The tents were already pitched for us when we got
there."

"Oh. Well, I guess I can teach you," Clark said with a grin. The smile faded as
he glanced sideways at her. "Have I mentioned today that I've been in love with
you from the day we met?"

"No." She felt her cheeks warming. "Were you really?"

He turned back to watch the road. "Yes. Everyone knew it, too -- even Luthor. He
knew that Clark Kent loved you -- and he knew that Superman did, too. I guess
I'm lucky that he didn't put two and two together."

"That's for sure." Lois regarded her hands, clasped in her lap. "I wish I'd seen
it before -- I wish I'd *let* myself see it before. It would have saved us so
much trouble if I'd been smart enough to know how I felt that afternoon in the
park. I could have turned Lex down and saved you all of this."

Clark slipped a hand over her clasped ones. "Stop beating up on yourself," he
said.

"I'm not --"

"Yes you are," he said. "You've been blaming yourself for what happened to me,
and for all the rest of it, ever since you found out the truth. None of it was
your fault. Luthor was determined to have you one way or another. Knowing that
Superman wanted you, too, just added spice to the contest. You didn't blow up
the Planet, you didn't cause it to go nearly bankrupt and you didn't lock me in
a Kryptonite cage. Luthor did it -- all of it. You mustn't hold yourself
responsible for his behavior. From what we've learned since, that was just his
standard way of doing business. Besides, you're the one that's going to repair
as much of it as can be repaired. No one can ask for more than that."

She looked up from her clasped hands. Clark was staring at the road and his jaw
was set in the way she had seen Superman do countless times. Clark did it too,
although somehow it had seemed different on him. Still, she should have seen it
before; should have seen that the superhero that she loved was the quiet,
unassuming, amazing man who worked next to her at the Daily Planet. She'd
armored her heart against love for so long that she'd had to settle on an
unattainable super man or a billionaire instead of the farmboy from Kansas. She
should have known that there was nothing ordinary about the farmboy, either --
especially when it dawned on her that facing the life of a socialite without him
was going to be unbearable. Why had she thought that such pale things as liking
and respect for the man that she had believed Lex was could take the place of
the love that she felt for Clark? With or without Superman's powers, Clark was
something more than special, and she could only be grateful that when she had
finally realized it, it was not too late after all. And she owed that to Clark
as well.

It took barely five minutes to travel from the heart of Pepper to its outskirts.
The buildings of the town were left behind and she saw that they were driving
between fields of waving yellow grain. In the distance she could see a small
building that was much too tiny to be a house, and beyond that, some kind of
machine with big tires and some kind of windmill or something in front of it
crunching through the tall stalks. No doubt, if she asked Clark he could tell
her what it was, but she didn't. She sat back in the seat, trying to imagine an
area with a lake and campground in this wide, flat country where Clark had grown
up.

It was less than half an hour before Clark turned off the main highway onto an
uneven gravel road and Lois realized that, for all the land's apparent flatness,
they were going downhill. The gravel road dropped steadily until Lois could no
longer see the grain fields. A short time later, it crossed a narrow river on a
bridge that made her hold her breath until they safely reached the other side
and then ran along beside the river for as far as the eye could see.

Which, she realized, wasn't far. The narrow line of trees growing beside the
creek began to widen until the road was wending its way between trees that grew
on either side of the road. They must be entering the camping area, Lois
thought.

A dirt road crossed the gravel one and Clark turned onto it. The trees were
thicker, although they were nothing like the enormous pines that they had seen
during their hike through the mountains of Colorado. Clark slowed the car down
further, and Lois sat up straighter, looking around.

Little paths barely wide enough to accommodate the car branched off the dirt
road and at last Clark turned onto one or them. They went on another ten
minutes, jolting and bumping along the so-called road that would have been
better called a footpath, Lois thought, and finally it came to an end in a small
clearing. Clark pulled into the clearing, parked the car by one side of it and
cut the engine.

"We're here," he announced.

**********

William Henderson unlocked the door of his car, which was parked in the
Precinct's parking lot, and slid behind the wheel. The investigation into "The
Mrs." was proceeding slowly, as he had expected. This was the organization built
up by Lex Luthor, after all. The LexCorp Board of Directors was dodging
questions with the expertise of lawyers, which wasn't surprising since most of
them were lawyers, but he had the feeling that he was onto something. The Board
was battling frantically to save something from the wreck of the company and
apparently had little time to waste with the police. At least that was the
impression they gave. Henderson wasn't so sure. He'd asked to speak to Luthor's
successor, Richard Isakson, and been told that the new CEO was out of the
country at the moment, on company business, and would be happy to schedule an
appointment with him at a later date. The person speaking to him, however, was
unable to give an exact time for Mr. Isakson's return. Luthor's former right
hand man, a gentleman by the name of Flanagan, seemed less than happy at the
mention of Luthor's successor but unwilling to talk about it. None of them,
apparently, had heard of the attempts on the lives of Luthor's widow and her
writing partner, Clark Kent, and all of them professed horror and disbelief at
the story. None of them would admit to knowledge of the search team in the
LexCorp helicopter, one member of which had apparently pulled a gun on Kent. For
a bunch of corporate lawyers, they seemed, at least to him, just a little too
pure to be believed.

Henderson fastened his seat belt and inserted his car key into the ignition. As
the engine kicked over with a sputter and then began to purr, a familiar voice,
with the strong accent prevalent in Metropolis's Suicide Slum district, said,
"The word is you wanna know about 'The Mrs.', Inspector."

Henderson controlled his start of surprise with an effort and raised his eyes to
look into the rear-view mirror. The narrow face of a middle-aged man looked
smugly back at him.

"Well, well -- Bobby Bigmouth, as I live and breathe," he said, after a short
pause. "How the devil did you get into my car?"

The individual in the back seat was long and lean, with the faint impression of
hunger about him, like a man who is constantly on a diet. Henderson had
occasionally had contact with him, although he didn't know him well, but he knew
of Bobby Bigmouth's reputation as a reliable, if somewhat exasperating, snitch,
and he knew that Bobby's appetite was legendary among Henderson's fellow
officers.

"Trade secret," Bobby said. "I hear you're lookin' for information about 'The
Mrs.' I can help you, for the price of a deli sandwich with all the trimmings.
And a promise to keep my name out of it."

"What are you up to?" Henderson inquired. "I've never known you to look me up
without a good reason."

"Hey," Bobby said. "A square meal is serious business -- but actually I got
another one. Let's just say I owe Lane a favor, and I don't like bein' in debt
-- okay?"

"All right," Henderson said. "One deli sandwich with all the trimmings -- if the
information's good. What have you got for me?"

"From what I hear, there's a contract out on Lane -- Special kind of contract.
It's gotta look like an accident and only good until the thirty day anniversary
of Luthor's wedding. After that, it's off. I'm guessing it's got something to do
with Luthor's will."

"We'd figured that," Henderson said.

"Yeah, well, maybe you don't know that The Mrs. has gotten into the
investigation herself. She's running Luthor's syndicate now. She's even running
the legit part of the business. All those lawyers on the Board of Directors know
they better toe the line if they want to live. You're not gonna get any answers
out of them."

"That's interesting," Henderson said slowly. "What kind of hold does she have
over them?"

"Same as Luthor did -- good old fear. Blackmail material, not to mention their
lives. Nobody crossed Luthor and lived. Same here. That plastic surgeon that
turned up dead in the dumpster this morning made the mistake of knowin' too
much."

"What's he got to do with it? What did he know?"

"Let's say that if Lois Lane turns up in Metropolis unexpectedly, you might want
to compare her fingerprints to the ones on file."

"How do you know I can?" Henderson inquired dryly.

Bobby just looked at him. "You're tellin' me you don't have Lois's prints?" he
inquired. "After the time you arrested her for trespassin' on that rich guy's
property five years ago?"

How the devil did Bobby know about that? Henderson wondered. "The owner refused
to press charges," he pointed out.

"So? That doesn't mean you tossed her prints," Bobby said.

"All right, supposing that's true," Henderson said, tacitly conceding the point,
"what can you tell me about the Mrs. that I don't know?"

"Her and Luthor divorced about ten years ago," Bobby said. "Rumor has it they
were married on a cruise ship. She wants Lane out of the picture for good and
the word is she sent one of Luthor's enforcers to Smallville to try to get
Kent's location out of his parents. I guess she figures that if they can get
their hands on Kent, he'll know where Lane is -- if she's not with him." The
snitch paused, probably for dramatic effect.

"You got a name?" Henderson asked, wondering absently how and where Bobby came
up with this information.

Bobby shook his head regretfully. "They just call her 'The Mrs.', he said, "and
the enforcer don't have a name that anybody says out loud. He's one of their
best, though -- after the way the last ones screwed up. If I could put a name on
either one, I would."

"For dessert?" Henderson said dryly. "Anything else? The name of the cruise ship
would be handy."

Bobby managed to look wounded at the side comment, but he said, "Nope. I'll
tellya what, though. I'll do some snooping around and see if I can come up with
anything. If I find something else out, you'll know, but I gotta be careful." He
held out a hand. "That's got to be worth that sandwich."

"Yeah." Henderson fished for his wallet and handed over a twenty. "There you go.
Buy what you want -- but if you find out anything else, be damn sure you call me
before you call anybody else, got it?"

"You got it, Inspector. Just keep my name out of it." Bobby opened the rear door
and got out. Henderson shook his head slowly as the nondescript figure of the
snitch ambled inconspicuously away. He'd get the discretionary fund to reimburse
him for Bobby's snitch fee, he thought. It was interesting how Bobby had gotten
into this thing without anyone asking. Of course, there was the lure of the free
meal but, oddly enough, Henderson didn't think that had been the primary motive.
Lois Lane had the inexplicable ability to inspire plenty of loyalty in her
friends and acquaintances. Those that weren't plotting to kill her, of course.
They even did their best to protect her from herself. Perry White, Kent and
those two kids had sure worked their butts off to keep her from marrying Luthor.
Superman apparently had been involved, too. It was too bad they hadn't been a
little bit faster. If they had, Lane wouldn't have assassins after her. He gave
a faint snort. She wouldn't be Lois Lane if she wasn't in *some* sort of
trouble, he thought. He supposed he'd better get in contact with the Smallville
authorities and tell them that they had a professional assassin heading their
way. And he'd better warn Kent, too. And then maybe Perry White could get the
Olsen kid to dig into Luthor's life, ten years back, and find out the name of
the ex-Mrs. Lex Luthor ....

**********

"That wasn't so hard," Lois said, trying not to pant. She stood back, surveying
the tent that she and Clark had spent the last hour setting up. She glanced at
her watch. "It's four-fifteen. What's next?"

"Now we can put on our swimsuits and go down to the lake," Clark said. "There's
still plenty of daylight left and it's just a short walk."

"How short?" Lois asked.

"Five minutes tops. This spot used to be our favorite because it was close to
the lake."

"Don't we need to get out the supplies or something?"

Clark shook his head. "They're safe where they are. It'll keep the squirrels out
of the food. Did Mom get you anything to swim in?"

"No," Lois said. "People might have wondered if your mom had bought herself a
bathing suit."

"Why?" Clark asked. "Mom swims when she comes here. Of course, she usually uses
scuba gear."

That figured. "Well, any scuba gear of your mom's would have been too small for
me. I figured I'd just use a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Will that do?"

"Sure," Clark said. "People swim in anything and everything here. My favorite
swimsuit when I was a kid was a pair of cut-off jeans. Why don't I get the stuff
and you can use the tent to change."

Lois had wondered how they were going to manage that, or, now that they were
engaged, if Clark would expect her to behave differently. Her farm boy from
Krypton seemed to be letting her decide where things were going to go and how
far, and, to tell the truth, she found that reassuring. Lex had definitely been
irked when she had expressed a desire to wait until their wedding night,
although he'd gone along with her wishes. If Clark was disappointed, he wasn't
letting on in any way. Unexpectedly, she was a little let down by his behavior,
but at the same time it took off a good deal of the pressure. Clark hadn't even
raised the subject, so maybe he was waiting for her to do so. She supposed that
she should, sooner or later -- maybe tonight, while they were cooking dinner,
she thought. Just to clarify things, so there wouldn't be any misunderstandings.

Clark had gone to the car and was unlocking the trunk. She'd packed everything
Martha had bought for her in a big plastic bag in lieu of a suitcase, and so had
Clark.

"My stuff's on the left side," she told him.

"Okay." Clark pulled out her bag. "Here you go."

Inside the tent, she made quick work of changing into the outfit. Her bra could
stand lake water, she thought, and she now had four others as well, so this one
could certainly be sacrificed for swimming. She found the pair of black shorts
that Martha had picked up for her, and the plain blue T-shirt, and changed her
clothing.

Clark was waiting patiently when she emerged from the tent with the beach towel
that Martha had insisted on loaning her. "I'll be right out," he said, and
stepped inside the tent.

True to his word, he came out again only a couple of minutes later, clad in a
pair of tight cutoff jeans and minus his shirt. Lois had seen him shirtless once
before, when he had answered the door of his hotel room wrapped in a towel and
she recalled now that she had been very favorably impressed with his build. She
had seen him since, as Superman, in skin-tight blue spandex, but without that
thin barrier he seemed so much -- well, more. She ran her gaze over the bare
expanse of hairless chest and flat middle, and found herself almost unable to
look away. Well, why not? she rationalized. She was engaged to marry him, after
all. Why shouldn't she look? He was certainly worth looking at. Especially half
dressed and wearing almost too-tight cut-offs.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Um ... yes, fine." She forced her gaze higher and looked him in the eyes.
"Just, um...admiring the view."

To her surprise, he looked uncertain and reached for his own towel. "Maybe I
should have borrowed Dad's trunks," he said. "These jeans seem to have shrunk a
bit."

"They're fine," she assured him, resolutely not glancing at the item of clothing
in question. "Besides, if you'd worn your dad's I might be getting a view of a
lot more of you than you wanted."

"Lo--is!" He sounded almost shocked, and her surprise turned to amusement at the
pink flush spreading up his neck.

She giggled. This was the man who flew around the skies of Metropolis in a
form-fitting, spandex suit? Talk about a split personality! "Don't worry," she
assured him, slipping her arm through his, "so far I haven't seen anything not
to like. Let's go swimming."

**********

Rachel Harris was studying an FBI bulletin regarding a kidnapping suspect who
was believed to have crossed the Kansas/Missouri border when the phone rang.
Greg answered it.

"Smallville Sheriff's Office. This is Deputy Ross...Who? Metropolis? What can I
do for you, Inspector?" He listened for several more seconds. "She's right here.
Just a moment." He covered the receiver. "It's an Inspector Henderson from
Metropolis, wanting to speak to you."

"Metropolis?" Rachel picked up her extension. "This is Sheriff Harris."

Five minutes later, she put down the phone, scowling. Greg looked at her, his
eyebrows lifted. "What's wrong, Sheriff?"

"We may have a problem," Rachel said. "Clark and Mrs. Luthor -- Lois Lane,
actually, since she didn't take Luthor's name -- are at the Kent farm, hiding
out from the media. Henderson knew it; I guess Clark let him know where they
were. He's found out that there's a hit man headed for Smallville, who's after
Ms. Lane."

Greg's eyebrows flew up. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Rachel said. "Ms. Lane inherits half of Luthor's estate -- any part that
they can't prove wasn't acquired legally. Somebody in his organization doesn't
want her to get the money."

Greg frowned over that for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "I get it. People get
killed over twenty dollars. Luthor had billions. Y'know, I don't think I'd want
to be in her place. Wouldn't be worth it."

"That's for sure," Rachel said. "I better call Martha."

**********

They emerged from the trees onto the flat beach of a lake. The water looked
clear and cool to Lois, who was frankly sweating in the humid warmth of a
typical Kansas summer afternoon. She wiped perspiration from her upper lip.
Clark, she noticed, didn't appear to be in the least uncomfortable, but she
didn't say anything. If his powers didn't come back all the way, she didn't want
to get his hopes up but she was willing to bet that before long they would be
seeing Superman again.

"We can hang our towels on a tree limb," Clark suggested, suiting the action to
the word. "Too bad we don't have our old motorboat and water skis. I used to be
pretty good when I was a kid."

"Yeah, Dad and Mother used to have a cabin on the beach in Northern New Troy,"
Lois said. She hung her towel beside his and removed her tennis shoes. "I was
pretty good on skis, myself."

"We'll have to go somewhere on our honeymoon where we can ski," Clark said.
"Have you thought about it?"

"Kind of," Lois admitted. "I'd love to go to Hawaii. I've been to Oahu once for
a journalism conference, but I pretty much stayed in the hotel -- except for the
luau we attended the last evening."

"I've been there," Clark said. "The islands are beautiful. Maybe we could go to
one of the less-commercialized ones like Kauai or Molokai. I'd enjoy showing you
around."

"I've got some vacation money saved up," Lois said. "Maybe we could get one of
those cabins right on the beach -- you know, with a ceiling fan and lots of
privacy."

"I've saved some, too," Clark admitted. "Together, we should have enough. If my
--" he lowered his voice, "powers come back, we wouldn't even have to take a
plane."

"I guess you saved a lot of money traveling by doing that," Lois said. "Before
you came to work at the Planet?"

"Sometimes," Clark admitted. "One summer I worked my way as a deck hand on a
cargo ship, just to see what it was like. It was sure different, but it turned
out to be lucky for the ship."

"What happened?"

"Oh -- a grease fire broke out in the galley and got out of control.
Fortunately, I was able to put it out without anybody realizing what happened."

"I guess you did things like that a lot while you were traveling."

"Well, not a lot," Clark said, "but sometimes. I worked odd jobs here and there,
and freelanced a bit."

"Like with the Borneo Gazette?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "Anyway, after a couple of years, I got tired of it and
decided it was time to get on with my life. I'd always wanted to work for a
newspaper like the Planet, so I decided to come back to the States and give it a
try."

"Did you try any papers before the Planet?"

He shook his head. "No. First I decided to try for the one I wanted to work for
the most, so I came to Metropolis."

"Why the Planet? There's the New York Times and the Washington Post --"

"Well, I'd seen the writing of this incredible journalist in the Planet and it
really impressed me."

"Who --" She broke off when she saw him smile. "*Me?*"

"Uh huh. And then, during my interview, you charged into Perry's office like a
one-woman tornado, and I was hooked. That's why I came back with the story about
the theater the next day. I *really* wanted to be hired there after meeting
you."

While they had been talking, they strolled down toward the water. There was a
weathered wooden pier jutting out into the lake, and Clark led her toward that.
"Watch out for splinters," he cautioned her. "There's a ladder at the end where
we can climb down into the water."

The ladder was still there, or perhaps it had been replaced with a newer one,
for the metal was suspiciously bright. Lois watched as Clark descended and
pushed away from the ladder, treading water and waiting for her.

"How is it?" she asked.

"Nice," Clark said. "Come on in."

Considering that it was Clark who was telling her that the water was great, she
descended the ladder carefully, dipping a toe into the lake before she
completely took his word, but he was right after all. The water was cool but not
cold and after a moment of initial adjustment, after the warmth of the air, Lois
pushed away from the ladder. The water felt like silk against her skin as she
glided forward.

"This is wonderful," Lois said. "And it looks like we have the whole lake to
ourselves."

"Pretty much," Clark agreed. "I see a guy in a rowboat over there," he added,
pointing, "but that's all."

"Where?" Lois asked, shading her eyes against the sun. "You mean that little
spot of red, way over near the other shore?"

"Yeah," Clark said after a moment.

"Your eyes are definitely better than mine," Lois said. "I'd even say, they were
super."

"Yeah ... maybe," Clark said, and she could hear the hope in his voice, even
though he tried to hide it.

"Your powers are coming back, all right," Lois said. "Can you do anything else?"

He closed his eyes and Lois held her breath, trying to tread water quietly.

He opened them again. "I still can't fly," he said, and she could feel the
disappointment in his words.

"Yes, but you can see better than you could yesterday," Lois said. "Remember
what I said -- they seem to be getting better gradually. Have you tried any of
your other powers -- like, oh -- X-ray vision, maybe?"

"No," Clark said. He looked down at the water and Lois saw him squint. Another
long silence. She was just about to speak when he blinked several times and
looked back at her. "It seems to work." His voice was shaking slightly. "Maybe
you're right."

"Betcha I am," Lois said. On impulse, she hit the lake's surface with one hand,
splashing water into his face and turned to flee as fast as she could swim.
"You're it!" she called.

Clark was after her instantly and she had barely gone ten feet before he caught
up with her and grabbed her by the wet material of her T-shirt. "All right Ms.
Lane, now you pay!"

She squealed, expecting to be ducked and trying to wiggle loose, but instead he
spun her around and she found herself being thoroughly kissed. She ceased
struggling instantly.

He lifted his head after several endless seconds and smiled down at her. "You're
no fun," he said teasingly. "You're supposed to try to get away."

"Now that would be really stupid of me, wouldn't it," she said breathlessly.
"That's one super power you didn't lose."

"Oh?"

"Every time you've kissed me, you've taken my breath away," she said.

"Hmm. Maybe I'll have to do it more often," he said.

"Believe me, Farmboy, if you don't you're going to be in a lot of trouble!"

"Hmm -- " Clark tilted his head and grinned. "Wouldn't want that to happen," he
remarked.

The second kiss was longer than the first. When it ended, Clark drew back a few
inches and asked, "How was that?"

"Good," Lois told him, "but you need more practice."

"More?" Clark asked. "Are you by any chance taking advantage of the situation,
Ms. Lane?"

"Of course not," she assured him. "But we want to get it right. This kind of
thing shouldn't be rushed ..."

**********

Perhaps an hour later, they walked, wrapped in towels and dripping at every
step, back toward their campsite.

"I'm starved," Lois said. "So, what are we having for dinner tonight?"

"We'll have to see what Mom packed," Clark said. "Do you want to make a campfire
or use the camp stove?"

"What's a campout without a campfire?" she teased. "But we'd probably be better
cooking on the stove."

"Probably," Clark agreed. "Okay, I'll set up the stove while you change into
something dry."

"Don't you want to change?" she asked.

"After you're done," he said. He pushed aside a scratchy growth of underbrush
and they entered their clearing.

Lois occupied herself changing clothing and drying her hair as well as she
could, and, by the time she emerged from the tent, Clark not only had a fire
going, but the little camp stove was sitting on the ground beside it and a
frying pan perched atop it was releasing delicious aromas. She was suddenly
conscious of the fact that she was famished.

"What's for dinner?" she asked.

"Well, I figured the frozen chicken breasts Mom put in the ice chest were
probably a good idea," Clark said, "with canned vegetables. There's a nice
bottle of Chablis in the chest, too. Just the thing to go with chicken. And
there's a bag of marshmallows that we can toast in the fire for dessert."

Lois heard her stomach growl. "Sounds delicious."

"Of course, we'll have to drink the wine out of paper cups," Clark said.

"Fine with me," Lois said, thinking that if it were Lex, his chef would have
produced filet mignon with multiple side dishes and fine wine, served on china
and crystal. No doubt there would have been some decadent dessert that was
fairly unlikely to have been cooked over an open fire, as well. Lex's idea of
roughing it was decidedly different than Clark's. This version of camping was a
lot more to her taste than Lex's, even if she could have done without the
mosquitoes that had made themselves evident in the last hour.

"There's some citronella candles in the trunk," Clark said, almost on cue. "Mom
and Dad always brought a few when we camped here, because of the mosquitoes.
Here's the keys."

Lois accepted the keys and went to retrieve the candles. At the same time, she
recalled the cellular phone that Martha had loaned them. She'd left it in the
car, figuring it would be safe enough with the doors locked. Taking it to the
lake hadn't seemed a good idea. "I think I'll give Martha and Jonathan a call
and see if Maher turned up again," she said, setting the candles down on the ice
chest next to him.

"Good idea," Clark said.

But when she opened the car door to retrieve the cell phone, it was nowhere to
be found. She searched the glove compartment and under the seats, and at last
had to acknowledge defeat. The phone wasn't there.

"I can't find it," she said, when she returned to the center of the clearing.

"Maybe it fell off the seat," he said.

"That's what I thought, but I looked," she said. "I looked everywhere I could
think of. It's not there."

"Maybe you left it at the farm," Clark suggested.

"Maybe," Lois said. "I guess I must have, but I could have sworn it was in the
car."

"Did you check your purse?"

"Yes," she told him. "And I left my purse in the trunk before we went swimming.
I know you said there aren't many thieves around here, but I didn't want to take
chances.'

"It was probably a good idea," Clark said, peaceably. "Well, if we need to call
home, we can walk down to the restrooms. There's a pay phone next to them. If
you call, you can ask Mom to look around and see if you left the phone there."

"I guess so," Lois said. "I was sure I brought it, but maybe not."

"It would be easy to forget," Clark said. "If you intended to put it in your
purse and got distracted, you might have thought you did."

"Yeah," Lois said. "Oh well, it's not a big deal. I'll call after dinner."

"And in the meantime," Clark said, with his best French accent, "if you'd take a
seat on this fine fallen log that I just happened to drag over here, I'll serve
you your dinner."

**********

Martha Kent raised her head at the sound of the knocker. A glance out the
kitchen window informed her that a sheriff's car was parked in the area of
packed dirt between the house and the barn and she went into the living room to
answer the knock, just as it sounded again.

Rachel Harris, looking deceptively harmless even in the official uniform she
wore as the Sheriff, stood on the front porch. Martha remembered Rachel from the
time she had been barely more than a baby, bouncing up and down in the stroller
that her mother pushed ahead of her as she walked down Smallville's Main Street.
The bright, active toddler had turned into a no-less-enthusiastic schoolgirl,
and then a high school cheerleader with a starry-eyed crush on Clark when he had
been Captain of Smallville High's football team. She had turned that zest for
living into her passion as Smallville's new Sheriff after her father's
retirement and some months ago had proven her competence in that office to
Martha when she had saved Clark's life from a rogue government agent, who had
tried to shoot him in the back.

"Hi, Rachel," she said. "Come in."

Rachel stepped into the living room of the farmhouse and Martha closed the door.
"What are you doing out here?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"

"I had some information that Clark should know about," Rachel said. "Is he
here?"

"I'm afraid not," Martha said. "A reporter showed up sometime around noon when
Jonathan and I were out, looking for him and Lois, so we persuaded them to
disappear for a couple of days. He's got my cell phone, though, if we need to
get hold of him. What's the matter?"

"I got a call from Metropolis," Rachel explained. "From an Inspector Henderson.
He seemed to know that Clark and Lois were here."

Martha nodded. "Clark's mentioned him," she said. "He was the one that arrested
Lex Luthor at his wedding reception."

"Yeah, well --" Rachel hesitated for an instant. "I guess you know what's
happened since."

"Yes," Martha said. "Someone has an eye on Lois's share of Luthor's estate."

"That's for sure," Rachel said. "Anyway, Henderson got a tip that an enforcer
for Luthor's criminal organization is headed out here, to try to find out from
you where Clark is."

Martha glanced out the window at the sight of her husband crossing the cow
pasture toward the house. "Jonathan will be here in a minute. Can I get you some
coffee?"

Rachel smiled a little. "Sure."

Martha went back to the kitchen for the promised coffee. When she returned,
Jonathan was just closing the living room door.

Rachel was still standing in the middle of the room. Martha nodded to a chair.
"Why don't you sit down and you can explain." She handed her the cup and saucer.
"Sugar?"

Slowly, Rachel sank into an armchair and set her cup and saucer on the coffee
table. Martha set down the coffee tray, took a seat on the sofa and poured a cup
for Jonathan while Rachel put a teaspoon of sugar into her coffee and stirred.

"Now," Martha said, "what's this about an 'enforcer', did you say?"

Jonathan was stirring cream and sugar into his coffee but at Martha's words, he
glanced sharply at her. "Enforcer?"

"Yes," Rachel said. "Inspector William Henderson, from Metropolis, called my
office this morning. He received a tip from one of his informants that an
enforcer for 'The Mrs.', who appears to have taken over the organization, is on
his way out here to try to get Clark's location from you."

Jonathan looked at Martha. "Clark said anything might happen," he said. "I guess
he was right."

"And we're not going to tell him," Martha said in her most no-nonsense voice.
"If we do, he's going to come rushing back here to try to protect us, which
isn't a good idea right now."

"Definitely not," Rachel said. "No offense, but Clark is a reporter. I know he
writes about big city crime all the time, but he's not trained to deal with
people like this. I still shudder when I think how close he came to getting
killed by those crazy government types a few months ago. I don't want him
anywhere near the place."

Neither did Martha. Without his invulnerability, Clark was bound to get himself
hurt or killed trying to protect them. "What do you think we should do?" she
asked.

Rachel had obviously been thinking about that, for she replied almost at once.
"We could put you in hiding, but that's sort of inconvenient, especially since
you have the farm to take care of, and you'd have to hide until the month is
up," she said. "I was wondering if you would mind if Greg Ross were to come stay
here for a little while -- kind of as a bodyguard."

Jonathan and Martha looked at each other for a long moment and then Martha
nodded. "That's a good idea. If there's a witness around, he can't do anything
violent. They want to kill Lois, but it has to look like an accident."

"My thought exactly." Rachel finished her coffee. "I'll tell him as soon as I
get back to town. Expect him here this evening."

Martha finished her cup of coffee and set it down. "I'll make up Clark's room
for him," she said. "If Lois or Clark calls you, you're not to tell them about
this."

"I won't," Rachel said. She glanced at her watch and stood up. "I need to get
back. Thanks for the coffee," she added. "I wish you were making coffee for the
boys and me. The stuff at the station is barely fit to drink."

"It's just coffee," Martha said. "Maybe it's your coffee maker."

"Maybe." Rachel didn't sound convinced. "You two look out for yourselves. I'll
have Greg over here as soon as he can make it, but when he shows up, be sure
it's him."

"I know Greg," Martha said. "Clark and Pete were best friends, remember. Greg
used to tag after them a lot of the time when they were kids."

"All right," Rachel said.

When she had gone, Jonathan stood looking after the cloud of dust that the
Sheriff's squad car had left hanging in the air. "An enforcer," he said slowly.
"Whoever wants that money isn't giving up, is she?"

"Not for that kind of money," Martha said. "Let's just hope she doesn't figure
out where Clark and Lois are."

"In the meantime," Jonathan said, "I guess we've got a few preparations to make.
We'd better get busy."

**********

The setting sun was hidden behind the trees and the sky overhead had turned a
deep purple when Lois and Clark walked slowly down a narrow trail toward the
campground's convenience station -- restrooms, showers, telephones and other
sundry items that Lois had always regarded as necessities of life before the
last few days in the mountains. Clark carried a flashlight with which he
illuminated the path ahead of them, since the sunlight was dimming rapidly.

"Watch your step," Clark said, as they descended five wooden steps, apparently
installed on a short, steep section of the trail for the convenience of the
campers. "Looks like one of the boards is coming loose."

Lois carefully negotiated the loose board. After their trek through the
mountains, such minor inconveniences were nothing. She and Clark had encountered
far worse on that trip, and yet now, she had begun to look on it as the happiest
part of her recent life. How could she ever have believed that she could be
happy with Lex?  Even if he had been the pillar of the community that he had
pretended to be, she wouldn't have been happy with him. Looking back, with the
twenty/twenty vision of hindsight, it was so completely obvious that her future
happiness lay with the man who walked beside her now, one hand clasping hers,
that she couldn't believe how blind she had been. Clark had come to be her best
friend over the last year, and had gradually and unobtrusively worked his way
into her heart, accomplishing it so quietly that looking back she couldn't
pinpoint the time that she had begun to love him. She had fallen in love with
Superman during their first, short meeting, but with Clark it had taken time --
time for her to notice him, and much more time for her to realize that somewhere
along the way friendship had turned into something far deeper.

That time when Miranda had sprayed the newsroom with her pheromone should have
told her how dangerous Clark was, she thought, but typically, she had
rationalized the whole thing away so she wouldn't have to deal with her growing
feelings for him. How much easier it would have been if she'd just gone with the
flow, as Lucy phrased it. Or maybe not. Her sister went with the flow all the
time and her success with close relationships was as bad as Lois's had been
before Clark. Lucy, like Lois, had learned that men couldn't be trusted and as a
result she chose men who were losers in one way or another. Lois hoped that one
day Lucy would find someone who could show her that not all men were like their
father -- that there were some who didn't walk away when the going got rough --
although she would never wish anything like what had happened to her on her
sister. Surely there were easier ways to learn a lesson, but of course she was
Mad Dog Lane. She never did things the easy way.

"Are you all right?" Clark asked.

"Huh? Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You looked a little sad," Clark said. "Is anything wrong?"

"No," Lois said. Impulsively, she raised their clasped hands and kissed the back
of his. "I was just hoping that Lucy is as lucky someday as I've been."

"Lucy? You mean your sister?"

Lois nodded. "I was just thinking about her. She has this tendency to pick
losers -- just like I did. She just chooses them from a different social
stratum. I agreed to marry Lex and she takes up with illiterate goons. Same
result."

"That's too bad," Clark said. "I saw Lucy once not long after I came to the
Planet. She's a beautiful, intelligent girl - just like her sister. She deserves
better."

"I think both of us got the feeling that we weren't worth much in our parents'
estimation," Lois said slowly. "Daddy wanted boys, not girls, and he didn't try
very hard to hide it.  Nothing I did was ever quite good enough." She slapped
absently at a mosquito. "Mother spent most of the time after Daddy left drunk
out of her mind. The court ordered her into rehab when I was fifteen and Lucy
and I had to move in with Daddy, but nothing much changed. Daddy didn't spend
his day getting drunk but he was too busy to pay much attention to us. I
basically raised Lucy. Somebody had to do it, and Mother and Daddy were pretty
much awol. That kind of thing doesn't make you feel very good about yourself --
that your parents didn't think enough of you to bother with you. And then, when
I was a senior in high school, Daddy and I had a tremendous fight and I moved
out."

"What was it about?" Clark asked. He reached out absently to push a hanging
creeper out of her way. Lois hadn't even noticed it in the gathering gloom but
Clark seemed to have little difficulty seeing.

"He wanted me to go into medical school and I wanted to be a journalist. He
threatened not to help me pay for college if I didn't go into medicine." She
shrugged. "I was eighteen, so I moved back in with Mother while I applied for
scholarships and funding of one sort or another, and then I moved into the dorm
at New Troy State. Somewhere around my junior year, Daddy must have realized
that I was going to be a journalist no matter what kind of pressure he brought,
and he helped me pay for the rest of my education, but it wasn't the best part
of my life."

"I can't understand why parents would try to force their child into a career she
doesn't want," Clark said. "Dad wanted me to study agriculture and animal
husbandry at Midwestern U so I could take over the farm someday, but when I told
him I wanted to go into journalism he didn't try to change my mind. He wanted
what was best for me."

"That's about it," Lois said. "Daddy wanted me to do what he thought was best --
and naturally what *I* wanted wasn't relevant. Anyway, you can probably
understand now why Daddy and I were so uncomfortable with each other when you
met him. I know you didn't at the time."

"Yeah," Clark said. He squeezed her hand. "It must have been rough."

"Sort of." She shook her head. "Anyway, I guess that's why I have trust issues
with men. Or at least part of the reason. When I was a little girl, I kept
dreaming about a Prince Charming who would come along, see something in me that
no one else saw and sweep me off my feet but after I grew up the couple of times
I thought I'd found him it turned into a disaster. I told you about Paul, in
college, and then Claude --" She stopped, wondering if it was a good idea to
remind Clark of her history. "Anyway, I think that was probably why I wouldn't
let myself think of you as a romantic interest. I think I chose Superman because
deep down I knew he was out of reach. He was safe to love because nothing could
ever come of it. Then I figured marrying Lex would be safe, because I didn't
love him. It was only after it was done that it finally hit me what an awful
mistake I'd made." She sighed. "I should have known better. You offered me
everything I'd ever wanted and I was too scared to see it. I jumped in without
checking the water level again -- and if it hadn't been for you and Perry, and
the others, I'd have been trapped."

Clark put an arm around her waist, guiding her through an overgrown section of
the path. "I'm no Prince Charming either, you know," he said with a trace of
apology in his voice. "I wish I were. Superman is as fallible as anyone else."

"You don't have to be perfect," Lois said. "You're my best friend. You've seen
me at my worst and it didn't scare you away. I don't have to be on my best
behavior for you, and you don't have to be for me. Best friends don't have to
worry about those things." She hesitated. "We're still best friends, aren't we?
Even though we're engaged?"

"You'll always be my best friend," Clark said. "My mom and dad are. Best
friends, that is. When Dad is upset or worried, the first person he talks to is
Mom, and Mom is the same. It really surprised me when I realized it wasn't that
way with all married couples."

"I wish I'd had your parents," Lois said, a little wistfully. "From everything
you've said about them -- and from what I've seen -- they made their marriage
look like fun, and raised you to be the kind of person who could be Superman. My
parents raised me to be a neurotic compulsive overachiever who doesn't have the
courage to admit it when I'm wrong. It gets me in trouble, sometimes."

"Yeah, I'd noticed," Clark said dryly. "Still, I'd rather it was me rushing to
the rescue than some guy on a white charger. I stand a better chance of
succeeding. Or I did."

"I think you will again," Lois said. "Not that I'm looking forward to needing to
be rescued, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah," Clark said. He stopped and turned to face her. His expression was hard
to see in the gloom, but she didn't need to see it. His voice told her
everything she needed to know. "I can't promise never to hurt you or disappoint
you. I wish I could. I'm bound to make mistakes, but I'll never do it on
purpose, I swear." He raised a hand to cup her cheek. "I love you."

Unexpectedly she felt her eyes stinging with tears. "I know," she said. "I just
hope you know what you're getting into. I'm not the easiest person to live
with."

"I can take it," he said, and there was a smile in his voice. "I figure it'll be
worth it -- especially since I decided months ago that it was you or no one."

There didn't seem to be any answer to that, which was fortunate. His lips
descended on hers, and she found herself the recipient of another of those
breathtaking kisses.

When he finally let her go, she followed him with unaccustomed docility along
the remainder of the path. The woods opened up suddenly into an illuminated
clearing. A wood-frame building dominated the center of it, and along one side
was a row of pay phones. Arrows directed newcomers to the showers and restrooms
and a rustic sign tacked to the side of the building welcomed visitors to the
campground's Convenience Center.

The sun had completely set but the clearing was illuminated by several
floodlights placed high on rough, wooden poles. Several people in shorts and
T-shirts suitable for the warm, Kansas summer night were wandering around the
area or loitering here and there, obviously waiting for other members of their
party.

Lois made a beeline for the ladies shower and restroom. There were several women
and girls there, and she had to wait for the opportunity to use one of the four
showers. While she waited, she observed the other campers standing in the short
line. Most were women with children, ranging in age from barely more than
toddlers to girls in their teens. One girl of about eight or nine seemed to be
by herself, several places ahead of Lois. At least, she didn't appear to belong
to the woman in front of her who was escorting twin girls of about three, or the
group behind her which consisted of a woman who looked as if she were in her
early to mid-forties and three girls that were probably her daughters, ranging
from one of about six or seven to one obviously in her mid-teens. Lois might
have thought that the girl belonged with them but for the fact that mother and
daughters were alike blond and blue-eyed and the lone child was very definitely
a brunette with brown eyes and a flock of freckles. She looked nothing like
them, and was dressed in a pair of tattered blue shorts and a stained T-shirt,
while the other girls wore swimming suits.

Normally, Lois would have paid no attention to the child, but the fact that she
was so obviously alone in the crowd seemed odd. Still, it was probably nothing,
she thought. The girl most likely had parents waiting outside, and she was
probably old enough to be trusted in here by herself, considering how many other
people were around.

Lois couldn't quite dismiss the girl from her thoughts, however. Something that
she couldn't even identify nagged at her. After about a five minute wait, the
child disappeared through the door to the dressing rooms, and a moment later the
blond mother sent her oldest daughter in with the admonition to "make it quick".

A few minutes later the unaccompanied girl emerged silently from her dressing
cubicle as Lois was waiting to enter the room. She didn't glance at Lois as she
squeezed past.

Lois had intended to take a long, leisurely shower, but she found herself
hurrying. In what was certainly record time for her, she shed her clothing,
showered quickly and returned to dress, all in the space of seven minutes by
actual count. Emerging into the main body of the ladies room, she saw that the
girl had vanished and made her way hurriedly to the door, unable to explain her
sense of urgency even to herself.

Clark was leaning casually against the wall just outside the door when she
emerged. He straightened up, smiling at her. "That was fast." His smile faded as
she looked quickly around. "What's the matter?"

"Did you see a little girl come out alone a few minutes ago -- maybe eight years
old, brown curly hair, brown eyes -- wearing shorts and a T-shirt?"


Clark frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe. Were the shorts blue?"

Lois nodded. "Did you see if anyone was waiting for her?"

"I wasn't paying much attention," Clark said. He continued to frown, obviously
prodding his memory. "Yeah, there was."

"Oh." Lois drew a relieved breath. "I guess it's okay, then. Who was it?"

"A guy -- I guess it was probably her grandfather."

"Her grandfather?"

"Uh huh. He looked like he was maybe about fifty. Tall guy, some grey in his
hair, thinning a little at the temples. Why?"

That photographic memory again, Lois thought. Clark's incredible memory
definitely gave him an advantage over the average newsman. "I don't know,
really. She was in the ladies room alone. She looked kind of -- oh, I don't know
-- a little scared, maybe. I wondered if anything was wrong."

"Well, she went with the guy. I thought maybe she was just tired, but now that
you mention it --" He paused.

"What?"

"Well -- she kind of hung back, but she didn't do anything to attract
attention."

Lois bit her lip. "It's probably okay," she ventured.

"Yeah, probably." They looked at each other. "But now that you've brought it up,
neither of us is going to get a wink of sleep until we know for sure. Right?"

"You took the words right out of my mouth, partner," Lois said. "Let's go see if
we can find out."

**********

Martha was pouring dishwashing detergent into her dishwasher when there was a
brisk knock on the door. A glance out the kitchen window showed that the
battered pickup truck that she recognized as belonging to the Ross family was
now parked in the open space next to the hen house. Greg Ross, the younger
brother of Clark's best friend during his high school days, had arrived.

Greg Ross was between three and four years younger than Clark, and certainly
seemed too young to be a deputy sheriff, Martha thought as she opened the door.
He resembled his older brother a good deal although his hair was more red than
light brown and he displayed considerably more freckles than Pete ever had. He
was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt and didn't look anything like an
officer of the law. Martha guessed that Rachel had directed him to blend in,
instead of allowing strangers to realize that there was a sheriff's deputy on
the premises.


"Come in, Greg," Martha said, opening the door wider. "I guess Rachel told you
you're on babysitting detail for a few days."

To her surprise, Greg blushed up to his hairline and shook his head vigorously.
"It's nothing like that," he said quickly. "You and Mr. Kent could probably
handle some city slicker bad guy without much trouble, but Sheriff Harris wants
to be sure somebody's here to help, just in case." He looked around the living
room as he stepped inside. "I guess you got a new rug since Clark left home," he
said. "I remember you had this brown one that was all different shades."

"That was to disguise the dirt you kids tracked in all the time," Martha said.
"I figure you've probably grown out of that stage -- finally."

"Kind of," Greg said. "Is Mr. Kent around?"

"Jonathan's outside, finishing the chores," Martha said. She glanced at Sport,
the dog that had adopted them last year. He had followed Greg into the house and
was sniffing at the backs of his legs. "It's a good thing he catches rats. He's
useless as a watchdog. Out, Sport," she commanded, holding the door open for the
animal.

Sport obeyed, ran down the steps and vanished into the barn. Martha turned to
Greg. "Have you had dinner yet?"

"Huh?" The deputy looked blank for a moment. "Oh, yeah. I picked up a sandwich
at Maisie's, around four."

"Then it's been nearly four hours since you've eaten," Martha said. "Come on
into the kitchen and have some coffee and pie." She led the way as she spoke.
"How's Pete doing these days?" she asked. "We never hear from him since he got
the job at the state capital."

"He's on Senator Benson's staff," Greg said. "He says that our local
assemblyman's talking about retiring instead of running for re-election. Pete's
thinking about running for the seat."

"Really?" Martha opened the refrigerator to remove the apple pie. "I guess he's
doing pretty well then." She located a pie plate, sliced off a generous serving
of pie and set it before the deputy, following it a moment later with a cup of
coffee. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Greg said. He inhaled the aroma of the coffee. "Rachel said your
coffee was going to spoil me for the office stuff if I'm here for a couple of
days," he added. "It sure smells good."

"It sounds like your coffee maker needs to be cleaned," Martha said. "Or maybe
you should adjust your timer settings. I don't do anything different than most
people when they make coffee."

"Mom used to say that making coffee was an art, and that some people had the
knack while others never learned it," Greg said. "I'll bet that you could even
force our cranky old coffee machine make decent coffee." He sipped the brew with
deep appreciation.


Martha busied herself with loading the remainder of the dishes into the
dishwasher. As Greg finished the cup of coffee, the front door opened and closed
and a moment later, Jonathan Kent entered the kitchen. "Are we having more pie?
I could use a slice before bedtime."

"I thought you might," Martha said. She set a second plate of pie on the table.
"You get a smaller piece," she informed her husband. "I've been counting your
calories for the day."

Jonathan glanced at Greg and patted his stomach. "Just my luck. She cooks like
that and then complains when I eat it."

Greg grinned. "Tough luck," he remarked. "So who's the guy that showed up this
afternoon?"

"Clark said he called himself Maher," Jonathan said. "Ben Maher from the Topeka
Intelligencer."

"The Intelligencer, huh?" Greg took a last bite of pie. "That was terrific pie,"
he told Martha. "Did you see their interview with Elvis yesterday?" He grinned.
"Rachel -- I mean Sheriff Harris brought it in for us to read at lunch. They're
probably channeling the ghost of Luthor now and we'll get the story in a few
days. Maybe they want to get Ms. Lane's input."

Martha snorted. "Probably. Or maybe they're getting a viewpoint from their
Martian contacts."

"Or the mole men," Jonathan put in, brightly. "Can't forget them."

Martha shook her head in amusement. "At least no one from any of the other
papers has found us so far."

"That's good." Greg handed his pie plate and fork to Martha. "With luck, nobody
else will show up and this big time enforcer will turn out to be a dud, too. If
we're all real lucky, some other big news story will crowd the Luthor story onto
the back page. In the meantime, though, if somebody you don't know *does* drive
up, don't go out there without me. All right?"

Martha and Jonathan nodded.

"Good." Greg pointed at the small TV set that Martha kept in the corner of her
kitchen counter. "There's all kinds of creeps running around these days. We were
put on alert this morning for that guy."

Martha turned to look at the picture of a man of about fifty glaring at the
camera from a police photo. "I've seen a couple of reports about him today," she
said.

Jonathan looked questioningly at Greg. "Nasty looking customer," he remarked.
"What did he do?"

Jonathan had been working outside, Martha thought. The radio they kept in the
barn had quit a week ago and she hadn't found time to replace the batteries, so
Jonathan wouldn't have heard anything about it.

"Guy's a child predator that finished up his sentence a few weeks ago in
Missouri," Greg told him. "There were all kinds of protests from his hometown
about letting him out -- except his dad, who says he was wrongfully convicted --
but the courts didn't have a choice. Anyway, they think he snatched a kid off
the street on her way home from school. He might be headed this way. Kansas law
enforcement's watching for him."

Martha shuddered.

**********

Rachel Harris glanced at the little thirteen-inch television set that sat on a
shelf near the rear of the Sheriff's office. The LNN News-at-Eight Hour was on
and she listened to it with half her attention. The newscaster was reporting on
the kidnapping in Missouri where Bethany Ann Gordon had been snatched two days
ago while walking home from school. The police were searching frantically for
her and for the man believed to have kidnapped her -- a violent sex offender who
had been released from prison three weeks before. David Waters had been seen in
the area at about the time of Bethany's kidnapping and the description given by
her six-year-old brother matched. There was an interstate alert for the fugitive
and the little girl, and Bethany's mother had been shown repeating her tearful
plea for her daughter's return. Rachel shook her head. If Waters had really
taken the child, the family's pleas wouldn't make an impression on him. Rachel
knew his type -- a sociopath who couldn't have cared less about the pain that he
was inflicting on others. If anything, he would probably enjoy it. For perhaps
the fiftieth time, she studied the flyer that had come in this morning about the
case. Various tips now led the police to believe that the pair had crossed the
Kansas state line and the search was spreading across the area. As if she didn't
have enough to handle, this had to happen just now. Still, she hoped that
someone would spot the guy and call the cops before it was too late. The news
program had found an expert on the subject who had warned that it was just a
matter of time before Waters killed one of his victims. Rachel very much feared
that this might be the time. If he turned out to be their man, he certainly must
know what it would mean for him if he were convicted again.

Almost on the thought, the phone rang. Rachel's heart jumped at the suddenness
and she made herself draw a deep breath before picking up the receiver on the
second ring. "Sheriff's office. This is Sheriff Harris," she said, making her
voice calm and steady mostly through force of will.

"Oh, thank heavens!" The feminine voice on the other end of the line sounded as
if its owner were on the edge of hysterics. "I think he's dead!"

"Hold it," Rachel said. "First tell me who you are."

"This is Maisie Allen, over at Maisie's Diner. I just stepped out in back to
dump the trash and there's a guy lying behind the dumpster. I don't think he's
breathing!"

"Did you call 911?" Rachel asked.

"Yes but I think he's dead! There's blood all over his shirt and --"

"I'll be right there," Rachel interrupted. "Don't touch anything."

**********

Smallville's only paramedic van had arrived almost at the same time as Rachel.
It pulled into the narrow alley right behind her squad car. Rachel stopped as
close to the dumpster as she could reasonably manage in order to give the
paramedics room and set the brake, leaving the headlights on for visibility.

Maisie was standing in the alley -- or perhaps standing wasn't exactly the word.
She was leaning against the wall and looking ready to either faint or throw up
when Rachel got out of the car and approached. She looked the older woman over
with a critical eye and made a decision.

"Maisie, go inside and sit down," she directed. "You can't do anything here. Get
yourself some coffee or something. I'll be in to talk to you in a few minutes."

Maisie gulped and nodded, rolling an eye in the direction of the body, and
obeyed without a word. Rachel turned toward the man on the ground.

The situation was much as Maisie had described it. The victim was almost
certainly dead. He was lying face up and his shirt was rent in three places, and
covered with dried blood. Stabbed, Rachel thought, shining her flashlight on his
face.

It was no one she knew, she realized with a trace of relief, for which she
mentally chastised herself. It was still most likely a homicide and probably
some time ago -- perhaps several hours.

The paramedics were kneeling by the body and the taller one glanced up at her,
shaking his head. "Guy's been dead for hours," he said. "Looks like somebody
stabbed him." Harry Talbot was from Rachel's graduating class at Smallville High
and in the illumination of the headlights from Rachel's car and the van his
complexion had taken on a greenish tinge. "Guess we'll be taking this one to the
Coroner."

"Any ID?" Rachel asked. She went to her car and removed the camera that she kept
in the trunk for situations like this. This would be its inaugural use in such a
situation.

"Doesn't look like it. Could be one of those reporters that have been looking
for the Kents. Maybe somebody at the motor court knows who he is."

"I'm sure they're going to love being called in for an identification," Rachel
said dryly, but her mind was working rapidly. Police Inspector Henderson, from
Metropolis, had told her that an enforcer from the criminal organization
formerly run by Lex Luthor was headed for Smallville. Could it possibly be
connected with this?

Sure it could, she was telling herself ten minutes later as she watched the
paramedics loading the unidentified man into their van. There hadn't been a
murder in Smallville in nearly ten years. And now, right after Clark showed up
with Lois Lane, who was apparently the target of unnamed criminals from the
city, an out-of-towner was found dead behind Maisie's Diner. It might be a
coincidence but she was inclined to think it wasn't.

Rachel walked to her car and reached for the radio. Greg was at the Kent farm
but she had three other deputies available who weren't going to like being
called away from their homes at this hour. Which was too bad, but nobody had
ever said this job was only about catching the occasional sneak thief or issuing
citations to someone who parked in the handicapped zone at Lang's Emporium. This
time they were going to have to earn their pay. And it looked like it was time
to call in the forensics team from Wichita. Big city crime had definitely come
to Smallville.

**********

"He headed up the same path we came down," Clark said, keeping his voice low.
"There are branches to three other campsites from it besides ours. How do you
want to work this?"

"How is your hearing coming along?" Lois's voice was softer than his, but he
could hear her without difficulty.

"It's better than yesterday but it isn't back to normal," Clark answered. "The
trouble is that I don't seem to have full control of it. It happened the same
way back when I was first getting my powers."

"What do you mean?"

"It just started this afternoon. We'll be talking and all of a sudden the super
hearing kicks in and it's like I'm in a crowd with everyone screaming at the top
of his lungs," Clark said. "I can get it under control but it takes a second or
two."

"Oh. How about your eyesight?"

"I can see in the dark fine," Clark told her. "And my telescopic vision is
better than it was yesterday. My X-ray vision is partly back. I could see the
bottom of the lake this afternoon without any trouble." He paused. Should he
tell her? Instantly he made up his mind. No more keeping things from Lois. He'd
promised himself that while they were still lost in the mountains. "There's one
thing, though."

"What?"

He hesitated and then plunged ahead. "A couple of times in the last couple of
hours it's cut in when I wasn't trying, the same way my hearing does."

"Is it a problem?" she asked quickly.

"Not exactly." He hesitated. "Uh - while I was waiting for you outside the
ladies room was the second time it did it. It was a little embarrassing."

Lois grinned. "I guess Superman's crack about the lead-lined robe was a bluff,
huh?"

Clark could feel himself blushing. "Yeah. I was kind of upset. I'm really sorry
about what I said. If I'd been a little more rational about the whole thing, we
might have avoided what came afterwards."

"True," Lois agreed, "but then some of the other things wouldn't have happened
either. You'd probably have your powers but I wouldn't know the truth about you
and who knows what Lex would have done when I turned him down. He'd still have
the Kryptonite cage, too, and he'd be more determined than ever to kill
Superman." She stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face him. "You
said we weren't going to rehash all the mistakes we made, remember? You blew it
but so did I, and there's no way to know how things would have worked out if
we'd done things differently. Given that, I'm glad that we're here, even with
everything that's happened. I've finally figured out who I really love and
you're with me, alive and safe. That's worth everything we went through -- at
least to me."

"It's worth it to me, too," Clark said. "You're right. I'll try to quit kicking
myself if you'll do the same." He smiled at her in the darkness. "I know how
you've been blaming yourself for what happened. Can we just stop trying to
assign blame? We both made some mistakes but we don't have to keep dwelling on
them."

Lois hesitated and then lifted her chin. "You're right."

"I am?" he said. It wasn't like Lois to give in on any argument.

"Yes, you are. We've got more important things to do than sit around and blame
ourselves for things that can't be changed. The thing that I'm wondering about
is that you say these things -- your powers cutting in unexpectedly -- happened
when you were first getting them, too. I think that means they're really
starting to come back now."

He'd heard that changing the subject was a feminine trait, but Lois definitely
raised the talent to a new high, Clark thought. He blinked at her for a second.
"I never thought of that. I guess I'll have to be ready for the others to start
kicking in unexpectedly, too."

"Exactly," Lois said. "Now, back to the plan. We're going to find where the guy
and the little girl are camping and you're going to use your powers to
eavesdrop. Then, when we find out what's going on we'll decide what else we need
to do. If anything."

As a plan, it left a good deal up in the air but Clark had to agree that it made
sense. "Okay. Come on."

**********

It was almost an hour later that they approached the last of the camping spots
connected by the narrow trail. The first campsite had been occupied by a noisy
family of two adults and five children, all under thirteen, and a large hairy
beast that was, theoretically at least, a dog. It had barked noisily at them and
Clark had apologized profusely, explaining that they must have taken the wrong
branch from the trail.

The second spot had held a small camper and Clark had pulled Lois away quickly.
The two persons inside were newlyweds, he'd explained briefly, and were busy
getting better acquainted. It had taken Lois a moment to decipher his code and
then she had laughed.

But this campsite held another small camper, a battered one that had seen better
days. The little girl was nowhere to be seen but a tall man was sitting on a log
in front of a campfire, while an iron skillet that was perched precariously over
the flames sizzled loudly and gave off the scent of frying bacon. As they
watched, he leaned forward to break an egg into the pan.

Lois put her lips against Clark's ear. "Well?" she whispered. She kept her voice
low, trusting that the warm breeze that was rustling the shrubbery and brushing
her face and the sounds of the night insects would muffle her whisper.

Clark lowered his glasses, squinting at the camper.

"She's in the camper," he said after a moment. "Alone."

"What's she doing?"

"Just sitting on the bench by the table." He frowned. "I think she's crying."

The lone man was fiddling with a radio now, Lois saw. Little bursts of static
came to her ears. Finally, it seemed, he found a station for he set the radio
down on the ground and reached forward to stir the contents of the pan.

"What --" Lois was beginning.

"Sh!" Clark was leaning forward, his head tilted in exactly the pose that Lois
had seen many times at the Daily Planet. Superman, she thought. He was listening
to something that she couldn't hear. She fell silent, biting her lip and
watching his face.

After nearly a minute Clark took her arm, pulling her back a short distance from
the clearing. "He's listening to a local news report," he said softly. "They're
reporting that there's a statewide search for a girl who was snatched two days
ago in Missouri. Her name is Bethany Ann Gordon. They think the guy who has her
is a sex offender who was released from prison a few weeks ago." She thought she
could see him frowning in the faint starlight that sifted through the trees. "I
remember hearing something about it at the time. I didn't pay a lot of attention
because of what was going on in Metropolis. His name was David Ferdinand Waters.
There was a lot of controversy but it turned out they had to let him go because
there wasn't any legal way to keep him in prison."

"Is that him?" Lois asked.

"I don't know. He might just be listening to the news."

"Now would be a good time to have your mom's cell phone," Lois said. "We never
did make that call." She glanced back in the direction of the clearing. The
light of the campfire was barely visible. "I guess the cops are asking for tips,
huh?"

"Yeah."

"Any descriptions?"

He nodded, obviously still listening. "Bethany is seven years old with brown
hair and eyes. When she disappeared she was wearing a T-shirt and...." he
paused, tilting his head again in the direction of the muffled voice issuing
from the radio. "...Blue shorts."

"That's good enough for me," Lois said. "We have to do something."

"He might be armed," Clark said. "If it's them he probably is, actually." She
could see him frowning in the dimness. "One of us needs to stay here to keep an
eye on things, and the other should go back and call the police."

"I'll stay here," Lois said at once. "You can move faster in the dark and you
know the area better."

Clark hesitated. "I don't like to leave you here, alone," he said. "If that's
really Waters, he's dangerous."

"Clark, I'll just watch. If he tries to ... hurt her, I'll think of something to
distract him. Hurry up." She glanced back in the direction of the firelight.
"The sooner you go, the sooner you'll get back."

Under less serious circumstances the indecision in his expression might have
made her laugh. "You'll just watch? Promise?"

"I promise -- unless I have to do something. Go on!"

There really wasn't any other choice and she knew he knew it. "I'll be right
back. *Please* be careful." The last sentence was spoken in a whisper but was no
less heartfelt for all that.

"I will. Go!"

**********

Robert Jackson, the day manager of the Smallville Motor Court, hesitated,
glancing nervously back and forth between Rachel Harris and Wesley Reid,
Smallville's Coroner. He seemed unable to look directly at the sheet-covered
form on the long table in front of him. He swallowed convulsively. "Are you sure
about this, Sheriff?"

"It's okay Bob. All we need is for you to see if you recognize him," Rachel told
him soothingly, for the fifth time, although she could hardly blame him. Violent
crime in Smallville was normally limited to a fistfight at the local bar on
Saturday night -- not murder. Wesley Reid had already told her that the man had
been dead for at least seven or eight hours -- maybe more. Whoever had killed
him had picked a good spot to dump the body. Even Maisie might not have spotted
him if it hadn't been for her compulsively neat habit of walking around the
dumpster for a final pickup of trash before she closed down for the evening.
"He's not from Smallville, so the chances are good that he was staying at your
motel."

The man gulped again, looking slightly green around the edges. "But -- murder!
I'm not sure --"

"We're not going to show you anything but his face," Rachel said. She nodded to
Reid. "Let's get this over with."

The Coroner gently drew the sheet down, revealing the victim's features. Jackson
gulped and took a step backwards.

"*Do* you recognize him?" Rachel asked agaon.

The manager swallowed a fourth time but leaned forward, obviously determined to
put the unpleasant episode behind him. Then he paused, and Rachel saw him frown.

"Do you recognize him?" she asked.

Slowly, Jackson nodded. "I think so. I think he's one of the reporters that
checked in a couple of days ago, looking for the Kents."

Rachel produced a plastic bag, containing one of several items that her deputies
had retrieved from the dumpster behind which the body had been found. "We found
some things thrown into the dumpster. Is this key from your place?"

Jackson took the plastic bag, examining the key with the corn-shaped tag
dangling from its chain. "Yes, it is. We're the only motel in the area that uses
this kind of tag for our room keys. Room 24A --" He glanced quickly once more at
the murdered man. "I can check to see the name of the person we rented that room
to. Is there a phone here?"

The Coroner nodded at Rachel. "Use the one in my office." He covered the
victim's face with the sheet once more.

Moments later Jackson was listening to the voice of the night manager of
Smallville Motor Court. "You're sure? All right. Thank you." He set down the
receiver. "The room was rented by a Benjamin Maher, of the Topeka Intelligencer.
The maid reports that there's no one in the room, and his rental car isn't
there."

"Maher?" It took Rachel several seconds to recall where she had heard the name
before. It was the name of the reporter that had found the Kents' farm this
morning.

The manager was nodding. "Benjamin Maher," he repeated.

"All right," Rachel said. "I guess that's all. You can go. Thank you for your
help."

The manager had barely closed the door behind him when Rachel picked up the
phone and dialed the number for Jonathan and Martha Kent. The time was nearly
nine-thirty and she knew the Kents kept early hours because of the need to be up
before the sun, but the back of her neck was crawling. This couldn't be a
coincidence, she thought. Ben Maher had found the Kent farm and now he was dead.

Clark Kent and Lois Lane knew that he had located the farm but somehow Rachel
couldn't see either of them killing the unfortunate newsman just to prevent him
from leading the others of his profession to the place. But she'd had a warning
this afternoon that someone who would have no such compunction was on his way to
Smallville.

"Hello?" Jonathan Kent's voice emerged from the receiver.

"Jonathan, it's Rachel," she said. "What time did Clark and Lois leave the
farm?"

"Hi Rachel. Is something wrong?" Jonathan asked.

"Maybe. What time did Clark and Lois leave the farm?"

"Around one thirty, I think. Just a minute." His voice became fainter. "It's
Rachel. She wants to know what time Lois and Clark left."

There was a murmur in the background. "Rachel?" Jonathan's voice was suddenly
louder again. "You still there?"

"Right here," she said.

"Martha thinks it was about two. Why?"

"Do you know where they were going?"

"Sure," Jonathan said. "They were headed for Domino Lake. They wanted to go
somewhere out of sight for awhile so they decided to go camping. What's going
on?"

"Maybe nothing," Rachel said. "What time did Clark talk to that reporter?"

"I think he said it was about noon. Why? What's the matter?"

"Have you had any contact with them since they left?"

"No. They have Martha's cell phone, though."

Rachel considered that. "Could you give them a call?" she asked finally. "Just
to see if they're all right -- and then call me back at this number." She read
off the number on the phone.

"All right. But what's wrong?"

Rachel hesitated. "Maher is dead," she said finally. "At least we think it's
him."

"Dead!"

"Yeah. I'm a little worried about Clark and Lois. It seems a little too
coincidental that this happened just now. Call them, all right?"

"All right." Jonathan Kent's voice had taken on a worried edge. "What are you
thinking? Clark and Lois wouldn't hurt anyone."

"I know that," Rachel said. "I'm thinking about the call from that Metropolis
police inspector this afternoon."

"Oh. All right, I'll call them right now."

**********

Jonathan Kent hung up. Martha set down the cordless phone that she had lifted to
her ear during the conversation and for several seconds they stared at each
other. "What on Earth do you suppose --" Martha began.

"I don't know but we'd better call them," Jonathan said. He quickly punched in
the number of the cell phone. The phone rang five times and then cut to the
recorded message for the voice mail. He disconnected, waited for thirty seconds
and tried again.

The result was the same. He switched off the phone. "It's on but no one's
answering," he said.

"Maybe they left it in the car," Martha suggested. "There's any number of
reasons they might not answer. They're engaged, after all."

Jonathan shrugged. "Maybe. I hope that's all it is but I'd better call Rachel
back." As he spoke, he was punching in the number she had given him.

Rachel answered on the first ring. "Rachel Harris."

"No one's answering the phone," Jonathan told her. "I tried twice. I hope
they're all right."

"So do I," Rachel said. "I'll call you back if I find out anything else. Did
they say where they'd be camping?"

"Uh -- yeah. Clark said they'd camp over in the one of the sites off of the
Lakeside Trail if he could find an empty one."

"Okay," Rachel said. "That's about a twenty-minute drive from Pepper. I'll see
if I can get somebody there to check it out for me. I'll call you back if I find
out anything." She hung up and Jonathan was left listening to the dial tone.

**********

Clark knew this area of the Domino Lake Campgrounds as well as he did the
landscape around Smallville. He cut through the woods for a short distance until
he reached the trail that led down to the Convenience Center and broke into a
trot. His eyesight had recovered a good deal since the night, two nights ago,
when he and Lois had been threading their way alongside a stream high in the
Rocky Mountains of Colorado, escaping a pair of searchers from LexCorp. Lois had
been right, he thought. His powers might be taking their time about it but they
were coming back. If only they would hurry up a little. It would be really
convenient right now if Superman were able to put in an appearance.

But it was obvious that, although his powers were slowly returning, they weren't
up to Superman level yet. Leaves and various creepers and pieces of underbrush
slapped him uncomfortably in the face as he hurried along and once he tripped
noisily over a root that he didn't remember being there before, and landed on
his hands and knees in the dirt. He picked himself up as quickly as he could and
hurried on.

It took a good twenty minutes to reach the Convenience Center. There were fewer
people evident now, and Clark headed directly for the phones.

But, when he put the phone to his ear, no dial tone greeted him. He pushed the
lever for the return of his quarters.

No quarters. He fished out two more but as he started to insert them an older
man with white hair and an equally white mustache touched his elbow. "Don't
bother," he said. "The phones are out. Somebody tried calling on a cell phone
but there's no one on at the phone company. At least not the local branch. They
said they'd send someone out in the morning."

"Oh great." Clark paused. "I really need to make a call. Do you have a cell
phone?"

The helpful camper shook his head. "Sorry. Ask around. Somebody here's probably
got one."

**********

Rachel left the Coroner's Office and got into her squad car. She had left the
forensics team from Wichita combing the area around the dumpster, taking samples
and looking for anything else that might give them more information. It was now
past ten, and it looked as if it was going to be a long night. Not that she
would get any sleep if she went home right now, she knew. She frowned at the
dashboard of the car, thinking.

Benjamin Maher had found the Kent farm and had to have been killed shortly
afterwards -- probably before Clark and Lois had even left for their camping
trip. Why?

Well, she thought, suppose the enforcer had already arrived and was looking for
the farm, and that he'd somehow learned from Maher that he'd found it. Maybe
Maher had told him. Or maybe, she thought suddenly, he had taken Maher's place
before he even had gone to the Kent farm. What if the man Clark had spoken to
was actually the enforcer?

There had already been two attempts to kill Lois Lane in the last week, and this
guy was supposed to be one of the best. He most likely wouldn't have done
anything right there at the farm, but what if he'd hung around the place,
intending to try to learn something from the Kents when they returned from town,
figured out that Lois and Clark were there, and followed them? Lois's death had
to look like an accident and accidents happened around lakes, where a person
could drown, and woods, where someone could fall and be hurt and unable to call
for help. He could very well be at the lake campgrounds right now.

Rachel reached for her radio. "Jane, are you there?"

"Right here, Sheriff," the dispatcher's voice responded. "I was just leaving."

"Radio Cal and tell him to take over for me. And then call Dan Wilson for me.
Tell him we've had a murder and the killer may be headed for Dan's favorite
fishing spot -- the one where he caught the forty-two pound cat." Deputy Wilson
in the little sheriff's office in Pepper would know what she meant, she thought.
The reporters all over Smallville probably had their scanners tuned to the
police frequency, but nobody but she and her deputies knew where Dan's favorite
fishing spot was -- at Domino Lake where he'd caught the biggest catfish she'd
seen in several years.  "Tell him to have an ambulance on standby and to contact
the ranger station. Tell them to try to locate Clark Kent and Lois Lane. I'll be
there in an hour."

**********

Lois crouched in the shrubbery, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as she
could. Beside her on the ground lay a heavy length of dry branch that she had
located after Clark had reluctantly left. For some reason, while Clark had been
here, even without Superman's powers, she had felt safe. As soon as he had gone
to call the police, the feeling of safety had departed. Still, Lois Lane had
been in very bad situations before and had come out of them, if not unscathed,
at least alive and with the story. And, assuming that the man out there was
David Waters who had a seven year old girl as a captive, she had every intention
of not only coming out of this alive but making sure that Bethany Ann Gordon did
as well.

A quick glance at the fluorescent dial of her watch told her that Clark had been
gone nearly forty minutes. Surely he must be on his way back by now. Waters had
poured loose dirt over his campfire but it was still smoking and the breeze
blowing toward her made her want to cough. She fought the tickle in her throat,
aware that the man in the clearing would hear her if she did.

The campsite was still illuminated somewhat by the row of lights strung along
the small guard rail that ran around the roof of the camper and in its
illumination she could see Waters -- or whoever he was -- moving about.

The problem was that what he was doing was making her very uneasy. He was
digging a large hole at the edge of the clearing. A very large, deep hole. Large
enough for a seven year old girl to fit inside.

The thought made her skin crawl at the realization that he might be planning to
dispose of his victim right here. It made sense -- but if he tried to do
anything of the sort before Clark returned, it would be up to her to stop him.

The smell of smoke was heavier. Surely the little campfire wasn't putting out
that much smoke. Again, she managed to overcome the urge to cough, although the
tickle in her throat was becoming more pronounced. Waters stepped back from the
hole, evidently considering his work, and then tossed the shovel to the ground
and turned toward the camper. Lois fought the almost overwhelming urge to cough
and lost. A small, strangled sound escaped.

But Waters didn't appear to hear it. He coughed harshly several times and spat
on the ground. Suddenly, she saw him lift his head and sniff the air.

The smell of smoke was stronger than it had been only moments ago. It was
definitely not coming from the campfire, Lois thought. Somewhere not far away,
someone must have started another fire. Maybe he was having trouble getting it
going.

Waters reached the camper and she saw him unlock the door. It had been secured
from the outside, she realized all at once. The little girl had been locked in.
Lois choked back another cough, her attention riveted on his actions.

"Come on out," he said.

There was no answer. Waters stepped up into the camper and she heard a faint cry
from the girl. Lois had started to stand up when he emerged again, dragging the
child after him. Lois froze.

He thrust the girl toward the hole he had dug and Lois's suspicions crystallized
into certainty. She came to her feet as silently as she could manage and eased
forward, squeezing through the branches until only a thin screen of brush
separated her from the clearing. Bethany Gordon struggled futilely in Waters'
grip as he forced her toward the hole. His back was toward Lois and his
attention was all on the squirming girl.

Lois stepped into the clearing.

With an exclamation of annoyance, Waters seized Bethany by the throat,
strangling her with one large hand. Bethany choked and struggled but her
movements began to grow weaker almost at once. Lois came forward at a half run,
the branch held in her hands like a battering ram. The end of the branch rammed
Waters in the back. He staggered forward, dropping Bethany, and landed heavily
on his hands and knees. Lois lifted the branch and swung.

Half-stunned as he was, Waters tried to dodge and partially succeeded. Lois's
blow hit him on the shoulder instead of his head but the blow knocked him
sideways. Bethany was trying weakly to sit up but Lois couldn't spare any
attention for her at the moment for Waters was trying to get to his feet again.
She swung again and connected with his ribs. He plunged forward on his face and
lay still, panting harshly.

The smoke wafted over all three of them again, thicker than ever. The smell of
burning wood.

Lois didn't dare take her eyes off of Waters. She spoke to Bethany, who had
staggered to her feet.

"Get behind me," she said. "Stay out of his reach."

"You're going to pay for this," Waters snarled.

Lois didn't remove her gaze from him but she spoke to the girl who was huddling
behind her. "Are you Bethany Gordon?"

"Yes." Bethany's voice was almost inaudible. "Are you a cop?"

"No. But my friend went to call them," she said. "They're looking for you and
him." She nodded at Waters.

Waters made a quick move, trying to grab for her ankle. Lois brought her club
down on the arm, but he seized the weapon, trying to wrench it away from her.
She twisted it free and brought the other end down on his shoulder. "Lie still!"

He obeyed, but Lois saw that he was now lying with his head twisted sideways so
that he could watch her. "Don't try anything," she said.

"How long do you think you can keep me here?" he asked. He bared his teeth in a
feral grin. "I'm gonna kill you, you know."

"Until the police get here," she said. "Or at least until my fiance gets back."
She added, "Don't move."

"What are you gonna do if I do this?" He moved one leg to cross his ankle over
the other. "You're not gonna hit me for that, are you? Or if I move my hand,
like this?" He eased one arm away from his body, careful not to make a
threatening move. Lois recognized the technique. He was trying to push the
limits without her hitting him so that when he moved to attack her, she would
hesitate for a critical instant.

A cloud of smoke wafted across all three of them. Behind Lois, Bethany squealed.
"There's fire!"

Lois didn't dare to take her eyes off her captive. "Where?"

"In the trees!"

She could see the smoke blowing past them on the breeze, accompanied now by
ashes, and the smell of burning wood was suddenly stronger. Waters moved
suddenly, rolling sideways. Lois pushed Bethany back and lifted her branch.
Waters came to his feet, facing her and then his gaze went past her. His eyes
widened and he spat a four-letter word and then he was running away from Lois
and Bethany toward the trail. He didn't pause but charged down the narrow path
and disappeared into the darkness.

Lois turned, already sure of what she would see.

The woods were no longer dark. Through the trees a flickering, reddish orange
glow was clearly visible and with it a glitter of sparks dancing upward on a
rising draft of air. The night noises had disappeared. In their place, all she
could hear was the boisterous crackling voice of fire set free.

**********

"Sir, I saw them -- rather, my fiancee and I *both* saw them. He has an old,
beat-up camper and it's parked in campsite #4 on the Lakeside Trail of the
Domino Lake Campground." Clark waited while someone in the background asked a
question. The voice that had answered his call belonged to a ranger at the
Domino Lake Ranger Station.

"Can you describe them, Mr. Jones?"

"Yes sir. The man is about 6'2", around fifty years old and has dark hair with
some grey at the temples. He's wearing a T-shirt and jeans. The little girl is
about seven or eight, wearing a white T-shirt that's kind of dirty, blue shorts
and sandals. She's got brown hair, brown eyes and freckles. When I saw her she
was crying."

"We'll send somebody to check it out," the voice said.

"Thanks," Clark said. "I'm on a borrowed cell phone, so you won't be able to
call me back. All the pay phones here are out of order for some reason."

"We know," the voice assured him. "Wait at the Convenience Center. We'll have a
car there in ten minutes."

"Hey, look!" someone shouted.

Clark turned to look in the direction of the man's pointing finger. Up the
slight rise and some distance away, he could see the red flicker of flames in
five different places, equally spaced, and five columns of smoke were rising to
blot out patches of the stars.

He spoke again to the man on the phone. "I can't wait, sir. There's a fire up
where I left my fiancee! I've got to get back to her right away."

"Now listen," the voice said. "We see the fires. Don't go up there or we'll have
to rescue you, too --" But he was speaking to empty air. Clark had handed the
cell phone back to the man from whom he had borrowed it and was already running
toward the trail.

The owner of the cell phone spoke into the little device. "Save your breath.
He's already gone."

A four-letter word answered him, for which he didn't blame the ranger at all.

**********

Clark ran up the trail as fast as his legs could carry him, considering the
obstructions in his path. The trail was narrow and uneven, and he had to keep
his speed down somewhat to avoid the worst of the hazards. Briefly, he wished
that his power to fly would return as suddenly as his X-ray vision had this
afternoon but it looked like he was going to have to handle this like an
ordinary man. Almost, anyway.

He could see things around him clearly, even under the trees that blocked out
the moon and starlight. His ability to see in all but complete darkness had
obviously returned in full force -- but since that was the power that ten year
old Clark Kent had noticed first, and the most un-alarming of them all, all it
told him was that his recovery was progressing, although not nearly as fast as
he would like. If only Superman were back to full operating capacity! If he
were, most of the problems they were dealing with would be easily resolved,
including the fires that he and the others had seen burning above him on the
slope.

Fires that, he realized, had to have been deliberately set. The five fires were
equidistant from each other, obviously meant to burn a certain area -- an area
that encompassed their campsite. Unfortunately, they also included the other
nearby campsites in their circles of destruction, not to mention the fact that
they were bound to spread. Kansas hadn't had rain in several weeks and the woods
were dry. With the addition of the brisk breeze that had sprung up a short time
ago, it was going to be a miracle if the fire crews were able to contain it to
one small area.

Someone was ahead of him on the trail. Their presence was announced by the
excited voices of children and the frantic barking of a dog. Then the beams of
flashlights became visible as the family group that he and Lois had encountered
earlier came down the trail in disorganized flight. They must not have dared to
try to leave in their camper, he thought in dismay. That meant that fire was
probably blocking the driving trails.

He stepped aside to let them pass. As they did so, the children's father turned
to him. "Don't go up there," he cautioned. "The fire's spreading fast."

"I have to," Clark told him. "I left my fiancee at the campsite!" He squeezed
past the dog, sending the animal into another paroxysm of hysterical barking.
"I'll be careful but thanks for the warning."

He ran on up the trail, leaving the family behind.

He could hear the fire now, he realized, the crackling of burning wood and the
peculiar roaring sound that seems exclusive to wildfires. It was ahead and on
both sides of him now.

Two more people, a man and a woman, were coming down the trail with more haste
than grace. He moved aside to let them past -- the newlyweds whose campsite that
Lois he had checked out in their search for Bethany and her kidnapper.

"Don't go up there," the man panted as he hurried his wife toward the meager
safety of the Convenience Center. "You'll be killed!"

"I have to get to my fiancee," Clark said. "Go on -- get out of here. This place
is going to be burning in a few minutes."

The man nodded and together he and his wife half-ran on down the path. They
should make it all right, Clark assured himself. The fire was blowing this way
but it was still some distance away. Lois was in much more danger and no one was
going to stop him from getting to her. There was no way that he would allow
anyone or anything to take her away from him again.

Within ten minutes he was ascending the steepest part of the trail. This was the
section of the path that required wooden steps to have been installed in several
places. Clark went up the steps three at a time. The smoke was heavy in the air
and the roar of the fire was louder. Somewhere behind him he heard the crackle
and sizzle as a bush burst into flame beside the trail, and then another, and
another. His path of retreat was cut off.

Another body was plunging toward him from above and it took him barely a second
to recognize David Waters. He stepped aside and let the man go. He didn't have
the time to deal with him now.

"Lois!" he shouted. "Lois, can you hear me?"

From not far away, Lois's voice answered him. "Clark!"

"I'm right here!" he shouted. "Where are you?"

"Right here!"

Her voice was coming from the side path that led to their own campsite. Clark
dived into the narrower path and ran.

He arrived at the clearing to see Lois and Bethany Gordon huddled against the
rental car. Bethany had a piece of cloth that he recognized as the shirt that
Lois had used for swimming this afternoon held across her face. He ran toward
them. "Are you all right?"

"Do we *look* all right?" Lois said with a trace of sarcasm. "The fire was all
around the other camp. I was afraid we'd get trapped, trying to go down the
trail!"

Bethany had flinched away from him and was now half-hidden behind Lois. It
didn't surprise him at all after what had happened to her, but that would have
to be dealt with later. "The path's blocked," he told them. "We're cut off. We
can't go back that way. The fire's spreading fast."

"Waters went that way." Lois coughed, covering her mouth and nose with a
frivolous little lace handkerchief that didn't look at all like something that
she would buy. She had apparently soaked hers and Bethany's improvised masks in
water from the canteen that swung from her shoulder.

"I know. He went past me. The path is blocked." Clark looked around, trying to
decide what to do. "Get in the car, quick."

Lois reached into her pocket for her keys and pulled out an empty hand. "The
keys are gone! I must have dropped them somewhere."

Clark grasped the handle of the driver's door and yanked. He was beginning to
get his Superman strength back, he knew. He could only hope that he was strong
enough.

There was a squeal of protesting metal and the door came off in his hand. He
didn't have time to contemplate the implications of that now, but dropped it on
the ground. Hopefully, Perry's insurance, or the rental company's would cover
the damage. "Get in!"

Lois pushed Bethany into the car. "Get in the back seat," she told her.

"You too," Clark said. "Get down on the floor. This could get pretty hot." He
got into the driver's seat, bent down to lift the floor mat and retrieved the
spare key.

Lois didn't argue. He'd known that in an emergency he could count on her but it
was reassuring to see it in action. Lois slid over the seat and scrunched down
on the floor beside Bethany. Clark glanced over the tops of his glasses at the
access road that they had come in on earlier this afternoon. The trees on both
sides of it were smoking, and little flickers of flame were dancing from the
branches. Farther down the road, however, the fire had taken hold. The smaller
trees on both sides of the exit route were engulfed in flame. It looked like
something out of Dante's Inferno, but at least what he was doing gave them a
chance. It was a good thing he knew this camping area as well as he did.

Clark gunned the motor. "Hold on to whatever you can hold to. This is going to
be a real bumpy ride." He eased in the clutch and the car moved forward.

He slewed it around and put the accelerator down. The car lunged forward,
straight toward the exit road and between the smoldering trees. He heard a faint
scream from Bethany but Lois didn't make a sound.

The road twisted and turned but Clark took the curves as fast as he could. Ashes
and little bits of burning matter speckled the windshield and blew against him
through the open space where the car's door had been. They stung slightly where
they contacted his exposed skin but he didn't try to brush them away. He trusted
that his returning invulnerability would be enough to protect him against such
minor irritants, because he needed all his attention to keep the car on the road
-- until they reached a certain spot.

There it was, coming up ahead. The road crossed the narrow river channel that
was one of the tributaries feeding Domino Lake. A wooden bridge crossed the
water, and it was burning sullenly, sending off streamers of smoke. He could see
the edges of the boards glowing orange and his keen night-vision showed him that
the boards themselves were blackened. The flickering orange glow of the fires
lit the sky with a nightmarish mixture of red, gold and orange and the rising
air from the flames flung the embers swirling upward.

Clark aimed the car directly for the wooden safety rails that edged the banks on
either side of the bridge. It was a ten-foot slope, but it looked like their
best chance. The trees on the other side of the bridge were blazing.

"Brace yourselves," he told them. "This is going to be rough."

The front grill of the car contacted the wooden rails and they snapped. Bethany
screamed as the car rolled and bounced down the steep incline and into the
river.

The water came up to the axles. He turned the car toward the lake, hoping the
engine wouldn't flood out too soon. There were uneven rocks and pieces of fallen
debris in the water, but the river was remarkably clear of obstructions for a
river. They bounced and jounced over the rocky riverbed and he thought
irrelevantly that the shocks were going to need to be replaced, but he kept
going. All around them, on both sides now, the smaller trees were blazing. Clark
could feel the heat on his skin and prayed that Lois and Bethany weren't getting
it too bad. It didn't seem to burn him, though, and he dared to hope that his
invulnerability might have mostly returned. Still, there wasn't anything to do
but go on and trust that their luck wouldn't run out too soon.

He heard the roar of an approaching plane and risked a quick glance upward. A
huge tanker plane that the local forest service used for fighting fires swooped
by overhead. The emergency services were already in action, he thought with
relief. Still, that didn't mean that Lois, Bethany and he were out of danger.

Water sloshed across the bottom of the doorframe and he knew the river was
deepening. The car's engine wasn't going to be able to stand this much longer
but they weren't far from the lake now. If the engine quit, there was at least a
decent chance that they could make it.

Two minutes later, the engine sputtered suddenly and went silent.

Out of habit, Clark put the car in first gear and set the emergency brake, even
though logically he knew it wouldn't do any good. The entire floor of the car
was several inches under water. It was a wonder that the engine had held out
this far. The car swayed unsteadily in the current running past.

Clark twisted around to peer over the back seat. "The engine's flooded. We're
going to have to go the rest of the way on foot."

Lois let go of Bethany and got up off the floor. "The engine's not the only
thing that's flooded. Where are we?"

"In the river. We're about a quarter of a mile from the lake. If we can get
there we can stay in the water until they get this thing under control." He'd
been hearing the sounds of more fire fighting planes and helicopters for a good
five minutes. "They're bombing the fire with fire retardant and water from the
lake. All we have to do is stay out of the way."

He could see her hesitation for a split second, and then she nodded. "Come on,
Bethany. We have to get out. Just stay with me. Clark and I won't let David hurt
you again."

Clark unfastened his seat belt and stepped carefully out into the river. The
water came well past his knees and he could see debris from the fire swirling
downstream with the current.  Lois helped Bethany over the rear seat and Clark
held out a hand. Bethany flinched back. Clark backed away a step.

"I won't hurt you, Bethany. My name is Clark Kent. I'm Lois's fiance. Come on --
we have to hurry."

Bethany glanced back at Lois, who nodded encouragingly at her. "Clark won't hurt
you. Go on. I'll be right behind you."

Bethany slowly got out of the car, clutching the frame. The girl was hip-deep in
the water but she watched Clark warily.

He made no move to approach her. "You're safe, Bethany. I already called the
rangers about you. Lois stayed to make sure you were all right while I went down
to the phones."

Bethany glanced back at Lois, who was stepping down from the car into the river.
She nodded to Bethany. "That's exactly what happened. I saw you down at the
ladies room and Clark saw David waiting for you. We thought something was wrong
so we came to find out for sure." She hesitated. "We're newspaper reporters. We
won't let you get hurt." Lois reached out a hand. "Hold onto me, just in case,
all right?"

Bethany slipped her hand into Lois's and Lois extended her other hand to Clark.
Slowly, he began to lead Lois and Bethany downstream.

**********

Rachel Harris pulled her squad car to a stop behind the fire lines. Her trip to
Pepper, with the accelerator pressed flat to the floor most of the way, had been
hair-raising enough but on arrival she had found that there was a fire at Domino
Lake's campgrounds -- one that had in all probability been set. It tended to
confirm her theory. Someone else might actually be the culprit but an enforcer
was trying to kill Luthor's widow in such a way as to make it look like an
accident, and now there was a bad fire where Clark and Lois had gone camping. It
was too much of a coincidence for her taste. If her trip to Pepper had been
fast, she must have broken all international speed records to make it to the
campgrounds.

She killed the engine and left the car, looking around for someone in authority
who could answer questions.

One large family accompanied by a dog the size of a small grizzly bear and with
a disturbing resemblance to one, occupied three benches near a parking spot
where an ambulance sat. A young man and woman huddled together on another bench
-- people who had managed to escape the flames without their vehicles, she
guessed, waiting for who knew what -- transportation, maybe. Well, it couldn't
hurt to talk to them. Maybe someone had seen Clark or Lois this evening.

She approached the group, keeping an eye on the dog. It saw her and instantly
began to bark frantically at her.

"Quiet, Bear!" That was one of the kids and to Rachel's surprise the dog
instantly became silent.

"Excuse me," Rachel said, speaking to the man who sat on the nearest bench. He
must be the father of this small mob of children, she figured -- five by actual
count and, if Rachel was any judge, the oldest was no more than eleven.

"Yes?" The man turned to look up at her and then got to his feet. The woman
beside him also rose and Rachel wasn't surprised to realize that she was
apparently expecting again. She might be three or four months along.

Rachel smiled at them as disarmingly as she could. "Please, sit down. You look
like you've had a rough evening."

Slowly, the two of them resumed their seats. Rachel took a precarious perch on
the approximately five square inches of unoccupied bench across from them. The
two-year-old next to her squirmed and looked reproachfully at her before getting
down and running over to fling her arms around the dog's neck and pull on its
ears. The animal promptly flopped down on its side and began to vigorously wash
the child's foot.

"I'm the County Sheriff, Rachel informed the parents of the small mob. "I
wonder, could you tell me anything about this evening? Do you have any idea how
the fire started?"

Both immediately shook their heads. The man glanced at the dog. "The first we
knew something was wrong was when Bear started going crazy." He paused. "I'm Ed
Walker, by the way."

"Rachel Harris," Rachel said. "Go on."

"Well, at first I thought he was just barking at a squirrel or something but he
wouldn't shut up even when Tommy told him to." He nodded at the child who had
spoken to the dog. "I went to see what it was and saw the fire above us on the
slope. It had blocked off the driving trail and I didn't want to risk trying to
drive through it with the camper, so we took off down the trail to the
Convenience Center. I guess," he said hopefully, "that it was a good idea to pay
extra for the optional insurance the rental company offered after all. I thought
it was a waste of money, but Amber insisted."

Rachel fished in her pocket and took out her wallet. A newspaper clipping, with
a photo of Clark Kent was folded inside one of the compartments and she took it
out. "I wonder -- have you seen this man today? He was supposed to be camping
here at Domino Lake."

Walker took the photo and held it so that the headlights of one of the emergency
vehicles fell across it. He frowned. "Yeah, I've seen him somewhere. Don't know
where, though."

"He's a reporter," Rachel said. "I'm trying to locate him."

Amber leaned over to look at the clipping. "Sure," she said. "We saw him this
afternoon. Remember the two people that accidentally came into the camp? They'd
got turned around and took the wrong trail."

"Oh yeah --" Ed scratched his collarbone with one finger. "Yeah, sure. I think
it was him, later, too, when we were on the way down. He was running back up to
get his girlfriend."

"When?" Rachel asked sharply.

"After the fire had started. He said he'd left her up there and had to find
her."

"You mean he ran back up where the fire was?" Rachel asked in dismay.

"Yeah. I didn't see him after that, though. I sure hope they didn't get --" He
broke off.

Rachel hoped not, too. "Which camping spot were you in?" she asked, already sure
of the answer.

"We were on the Lakeside Trail camping area -- campsite #1," Ed told her. He
nodded at the young couple that Rachel had noticed earlier. "They were in
campsite #2. I guess everybody else got out before the fire blocked off their
roads. Just our luck."

Rachel got to her feet. "Thanks," she said. "I appreciate the information."

It was just like Clark to do something stupid trying to save somebody else, she
thought as she hurried toward the barricade. Like the time in Smallville when he
was seventeen, that he'd charged into a burning house in town to rescue the
Anderson family's cat. He'd done it, too, and both he and the cat had somehow
escaped with nothing but a few scorches to his clothes and the cat's whiskers.
Rachel had been sixteen and hadn't been shy about telling him what a stupid
stunt it had been, even if he hadn't gotten hurt.

She hoped fervently that he'd walk out of this one unhurt, too. Telling Martha
and Jonathan that their son had been killed in a forest fire was something that
she *really* didn't want to do.

Several uniformed rangers were moving about in the lights of the emergency
vehicles and with them, she saw, was a man in a sheriff's uniform. Dan Wilson,
who manned the sheriff's office in Pepper, was using a flashlight to examine a
map that the men had spread out on the bed of a pickup truck.

"Dan!" she called. He lifted his head at the sound of his name and saw her.

"Hi, Rachel -- I mean, 'Sheriff'," he said. "I got your message. What's going
on?"

"We've had a murder in Smallville," Rachel said. "They told me back in town that
there was a big fire up here. What happened?"

"This one was set," Dan said grimly.

"How can they tell so soon?" Rachel asked.

"They spotted it from one of the planes," Dan explained, "and caught it on
video. Five fires that pretty much started at the same time -- set in a
semicircle around one of the camping areas. It was pretty weird. They had to
have been on some kind of timer."

"*Which* camping area?" Rachel asked.

"Lakeside Trail," Dan said. "Why?"

"I was afraid of that," Rachel said.

"Huh?"

"The fires were set to kill Lois Lane," she said.

"You mean that reporter who married Lex Luthor last week?" Dan said. "Rachel,
what the he -- heck is going on?"

"Plenty," Rachel said. "You want the long version or the short one?"

"Let's try the short one for starters."

"Okay, you asked for it," Rachel said. "The whole thing is about Luthor's
money."

"That sounds logical. In the end, most murders are about money."

"Yeah. Well, as you know, Luthor had billions and as his wife, Lane inherits
half of Luthor's legitimate assets, but if she dies of natural causes within the
thirty days of his death, the money reverts to the estate and is divided between
the other heirs."

Dan raised a satirical eyebrow. "Are you saying somebody decided he doesn't want
to share several billion dollars?"

"Something like that," Rachel said. "Clark Kent told me there have been two
attempts to kill her 'accidentally' in the last week. They've been staying with
his parents on their farm, outside town since yesterday and this afternoon I got
a call from the Metropolis Police. They'd had a tip that an enforcer for
Luthor's criminal syndicate was on his way to Smallville to find the Kents and
get Lane's location from them, since Clark is her reporting partner. I think the
guy they sent killed one of the reporters that's been hanging around Smallville
and took his place. I think he followed them here and tried to arrange for Lane
to die 'accidentally' in a forest fire."

Dan's eyebrows had climbed into his hairline by the time she finished speaking.
"You mean some big city hit man came out here and tried to burn down Domino Lake
Campground to kill Lex Luthor's widow?"

"Yeah," Rachel said. "That's pretty much it."

Dan swore softly under his breath. "If I get my hands on him, you're going to
have to arrest *me* for murder," he said. "Let's just hope he didn't succeed."

"I just talked to one of the campers who said he thinks he saw Clark running up
into the fire area to try to find Miss Lane," Rachel said.

Dan shook his head. "That's not good. That whole section was pretty much blocked
off by fire within about twenty minutes after it started. If they got trapped up
there --" He let the sentence hang.

"I'm not so sure of that," Rachel said.  She reached out to rap her knuckles on
one of the painted wooden ******** that made up the barricade. "With anyone
else, I'd figure they'd had it but Clark's luckier than anybody has a right to
be. His family camped here a lot when he was a kid and he knows the lay of the
land pretty well. Where would they go if they couldn't make it back to the
Convenience Center?"

"Here's the map of the whole campground," Dan said, pointing to the one spread
out on the bed of the pickup. "If they were in the Lakeside Trail area --" He
traced a finger across the lines on the paper with the burning area marked in
red ink. "If they could make it to the river, they might be able to follow it to
the lake."

"Can we get there with the fire and everything?" Rachel asked.

"I guess so. The fire's on the campground side, but we can go around to the
north dock and take an inflatable over to the delta. That's probably where
they'd be if you're right." He turned to one of the rangers who had been
listening to the conversation. "We need to borrow an inflatable and an emergency
medical kit."

**********

Lois hung tightly on to Bethany's hand as they made their way slowly down the
river. Clark was moving smoothly and carefully for their sakes; Lois had no
doubt that he could move much faster alone. He was looking over the tops of his
glasses, and, she suspected, guiding them past the more difficult obstacles with
his x-ray vision. Superman, she thought, was well on his way to being back to
normal. She hadn't missed the fact that his left arm was speckled with tiny
pieces of charred vegetation and that his shirt was dotted with holes where
burning specks of debris had landed during that last wild ride but it was
obvious that none of that bothered him at all. River water splashed onto his
arm, washing away the specks, revealing no burned spots on his skin at all when
by rights the arm of an ordinary man would have been reddened and blistered.

Ashes were settling out of the sky, sifting endlessly down like powder. Lois
tugged on Clark's arm. "I need to put something over my face. I don't want to
breathe this stuff."

"Huh?" He glanced up. "You're right. I didn't think about it. Just a minute." He
fished in his pocket to remove a handkerchief with his initials embroidered on
one corner. Lois had noticed that most of his handkerchiefs were embroidered in
a like manner but it hadn't occurred to her to ask. Surely Clark didn't spend
the evening embroidering his initials on most of his handkerchiefs, did he?

Clark had followed her gaze and now he grinned. "My Aunt Opal embroiders and she
always sends me handkerchiefs for my birthday and Christmas. One year she and
Mom got into a contest of how many ways they could embroider my initials onto
articles of clothing and sneak it into designs so that I couldn't see it. I
always found it, but toward the end it was getting difficult. Let me have your
canteen. I need to rinse this thing out. It's soaked with river water."

Lois handed him the canteen and watched as he carefully rinsed out the cloth.
After a moment, he handed it back. "Tie it over your mouth and nose. That should
help."

Lois obeyed. "What else did they embroider?" she asked, knotting the cloth at
the back of her head. She grasped Bethany's hand once more.

Clark took her free hand and they started on again. "You don't want to know."

"Yes I do," she insisted. "Come on, Clark, give. You have to know I'll ask your
mom."

"And she'd probably tell you, too," Clark said with resignation. "They
embroidered everything. I almost died from embarrassment when I discovered that
Aunt Opal had embroidered some of my...um...shorts on the seat and...uh...other
places."

Lois nearly broke into giggles. "Really?"

"You'd better believe it. And I haven't dared wear the tie she made. I haven't
throw it away because if I do she's bound to ask me if I still have it and her
feelings will be hurt."

That figured, she thought. Clark didn't like to hurt people's feelings.
Superman, it seemed, had an unexpectedly soft heart.


































65




[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Hi FoLCs!

   Here is the update of new fic (gathered typically through Thursday evening). 
Links on the L&C Message Board Fanfic Index page at
http://www.geocities.com/mb_indices/lnc.html


   New stories:
   Always by Sammie
  Invasion by Dandello



   New part(s) posted:
   Love Survives by rkn
  Wedding Rearrangement by Nan Smith


   Completed stories:
   Always by Sammie



   New TOCs for Current/Recent Stories:
   Always by Sammie


   New/Revised TOCs for Previously Posted Stories:
   None


   Added to the Archive:
   Always by Sammie


   Enjoy!
   Dawn & The Crew

---------------------------------
Bored stiff? Loosen up...
Download and play hundreds of games for free on Yahoo! Games.

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Hi FoLCs!

   Here is the update of new fic (gathered typically through Thursday evening). 
Links at http://www.geocities.com/mb_indices/mbindex.html


   New stories:
   Arrival by Marcus Rowland
  Crystal Dreams by Dandello
  Exposure by symbolicangel
  Invasion by Dandello
  It's Raining on Prom Night by Laura S.
  One Last Goodbye by MissyG
  Proof That Nagging Causes Insanity by Queen of the Capes
  Reality Check by ML Thompson
  A Vulnerable Night in Metropolis by Laura S.
  Wow, What a Game by Anne Spear



   New parts posted:
   Begin the Begin by SamEggert
  Foundations by Caroline K.
  From the Dark by Catherine Bruce
  Game Challenge by Various
  House of Cards by MetroRhodes
  The Longest Road: The Long Road Home by Raconteur
  Love Survives by rkn
  Men Of Steele 2 by Henry
  Strong by Shayne Terry
  Wedding Rearrangement by Nan Smith


   Completed stories:
   Arrival by Marcus Rowland
  It's Raining on Prom Night by Laura S.
  One Last Goodbye by MissyG
  Reality Check by ML Thompson
  A Vulnerable Night in Metropolis by Laura S.
  Wow, What a Game by Anne Spear


   New TOCs for Current Stories:
   Arrival by Marcus Rowland
  Exposure by symbolicangel
  The Green, Green Haunting of Home by Terry Leatherwood
  Invasion by Dandello
  It's Raining on Prom Night by Laura S.
  One Last Goodbye by MissyG
  Proof That Nagging Causes Insanity by Queen of the Capes
  Reality Check by ML Thompson
  A Vulnerable Night in Metropolis by Laura S.
  Wow, What a Game by Anne Spear



   New TOCs for Completed Stories including Comments folders:
   None


   Added to the Archive:
  50 First Revelations by MetroRhodes and Sue S.
  Always by Sammie
  Force Majeure by LaraMoon
  Laundry Night by Sue S.
  Like a Blizzard Through the Night by LaraMoon
  Platonic by Sue S.
  Stardust by Caroline K.


   Enjoy!
   Dawn & the Index Crew

---------------------------------
Building a website is a piece of cake.
Yahoo! Small Business gives you all the tools to get online.

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Apparently last night while I was emailing the manuscript for Wedding
Rearrangement to myself so I could work on it on my laptop, I
accidentally clicked the wrong address. Sorry about that. It was late
and I was rushed. It has some of the next part on it but it isn't done.
There's only one or two parts left of the A plot and then we'll get to
the B plot which is more fun, anyway.

Anyhow, just discard this. It's the story but it isn't finished, and it
has some things I'm going to change for the final draft.

Nan

Nan,

   Hurry, I'm on the edge of my seat! This story is great. Keep it coming.

   Thanks,
   Pam



If I ever become an Evil Overlord...the artifact which is
the source of my power will NOT be kept on the Mountain of
Despair, beyond the Ring of Fire, guarded by the Dragons of
Eternity. It will be kept in my safe-deposit box.
*From "Instructions for Evil Overlords"

---------------------------------
Boardwalk for $500? In 2007? Ha!
Play Monopoly Here and Now (it's updated for today's economy) at Yahoo! Games.

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Wedding Rearrangement: 8/?
by Nan Smith

Lois crouched in the shrubbery, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as she
could. Beside her on the ground lay a heavy length of dry branch that she had
located after Clark had reluctantly left. For some reason, while Clark had been
here, even without Superman's powers, she had felt safe. As soon as he had gone
to call the police, the feeling of safety had departed. Still, Lois Lane had
been in very bad situations before and had come out of them, if not unscathed,
at least alive and with the story. And, assuming that the man out there was
David Waters who had a seven year old girl as a captive, she had every intention
of not only coming out of this alive but making sure that Bethany Ann Gordon did
as well.

A quick glance at the fluorescent dial of her watch told her that Clark had been
gone nearly forty minutes. Surely he must be on his way back by now. Waters had
poured loose dirt over his campfire but it was still smoking and the breeze
blowing toward her made her want to cough. She fought the tickle in her throat,
aware that the man in the clearing would hear her if she did.

The campsite was still illuminated somewhat by the row of lights strung along
the small guard rail that ran around the roof of the camper and in its
illumination she could see Waters -- or whoever he was -- moving about.

The problem was that what he was doing was making her very uneasy. He was
digging a large hole at the edge of the clearing. A very large, deep hole. Large
enough for a seven year old girl to fit inside.

The thought made her skin crawl at the realization that he might be planning to
dispose of his victim right here. It made sense -- but if he tried to do
anything of the sort before Clark returned, it would be up to her to stop him.

The smell of smoke was heavier. Surely the little campfire wasn't putting out
that much smoke. Again, she managed to overcome the urge to cough, although the
tickle in her throat was becoming more pronounced. Waters stepped back from the
hole, evidently considering his work, and then tossed the shovel to the ground
and turned toward the camper. Lois fought the almost overwhelming urge to cough
and lost. A small, strangled sound escaped.

But Waters didn't appear to hear it. He coughed harshly several times and spat
on the ground. Suddenly, she saw him lift his head and sniff the air.

The smell of smoke was stronger than it had been only moments ago. It was
definitely not coming from the campfire, Lois thought. Somewhere not far away,
someone must have started another fire. Maybe he was having trouble getting it
going.

Waters reached the camper and she saw him unlock the door. It had been secured
from the outside, she realized all at once. The little girl had been locked in.
Lois choked back another cough, her attention riveted on his actions.

"Come on out," he said.

There was no answer. Waters stepped up into the camper and she heard a faint cry
from the girl. Lois had started to stand up when he emerged again, dragging the
child after him. Lois froze.

He thrust the girl toward the hole he had dug and Lois's suspicions crystallized
into certainty. She came to her feet as silently as she could manage and eased
forward squeezing through the branches until only a thin screen of brush
separated her from the clearing. Bethany Gordon struggled futilely in Waters'
grip as he forced her toward the hole. His back was toward Lois and his
attention was all on the squirming girl.

Lois stepped into the clearing.

With an exclamation of annoyance, Waters seized Bethany by the throat,
strangling her with one large hand. Bethany choked and struggled but her
movements began to grow weaker almost at once. Lois came forward at a half run,
the branch held in her hands like a battering ram. The end of the branch rammed
Waters in the back. He staggered forward, dropping Bethany, and landed heavily
on his hands and knees. Lois lifted the branch and swung.

Half-stunned as he was, Waters tried to dodge and partially succeeded. Lois's
blow hit him on the shoulder instead of his head but the blow knocked him
sideways. Bethany was trying weakly to sit up but Lois couldn't spare any
attention for her at the moment for Waters was trying to get to his feet again.
She swung again and connected with his ribs. He plunged forward on his face and
lay still, panting harshly.

The smoke wafted over all three of them again, thicker than ever. The smell of
burning wood.

Lois didn't dare take her eyes off of Waters. She spoke to Bethany, who had
staggered to her feet.

"Get behind me," she said. "Stay out of his reach."

"You're going to pay for this," Waters snarled.

Lois didn't remove her gaze from him but she spoke to the girl who was huddling
behind her. "Are you Bethany Gordon?"

"Yes." Bethany's voice was almost inaudible. "Are you a cop?"

"No. But my friend went to call them," she said. "They're looking for you and
him." She nodded at Waters.

Waters made a quick move, trying to grab for her ankle. Lois brought her club
down on the arm, but he seized the weapon, trying to wrench it away from her.
She twisted it free and brought the other end down on his shoulder. "Lie still!"

He obeyed, but Lois saw that he was now lying with his head twisted sideways so
that he could watch her. "Don't try anything," she said.

"How long do you think you can keep me here?" he asked. He bared his teeth in a
feral grin. "I'm gonna kill you, you know."

"Until the police get here," she said. "Or at least until my fiance gets back."
She added, "Don't move."

"What are you gonna do if I do this?" He moved one leg to cross his ankle over
the other. "You're not gonna hit me for that, are you? Or if I move my hand,
like this?" He eased one arm away from his body, careful not to make a
threatening move. Lois recognized the technique. He was trying to push the
limits without her hitting him so that when he moved to attack her, she would
hesitate for a critical instant.

A cloud of smoke wafted across all three of them. Behind Lois, Bethany squealed.
"There's fire!"

Lois didn't dare to take her eyes off her captive. "Where?"

"In the trees!"

She could see the smoke blowing past them on the breeze, accompanied now by
ashes, and the smell of burning wood was suddenly stronger. Waters moved
suddenly, rolling sideways. Lois pushed Bethany back and lifted her branch.
Waters came to his feet, facing her and then his gaze went past her. His eyes
widened and he spat a four-letter word and then he was running away from Lois
and Bethany toward the trail. He didn't pause but charged down the narrow path
and disappeared into the darkness.

Lois turned, already sure of what she would see.

The woods were no longer dark. Through the trees a flickering, reddish orange
glow was clearly visible and with it a glitter of sparks dancing upward on a
rising draft of air. The night noises had disappeared. In their place, all she
could hear was the boisterous crackling voice of fire set free.

**********

"Sir, I saw them -- rather, my fiancee and I *both* saw them. He has an old,
beat-up camper and it's parked in campsite #4 on the Lakeside Trail of the
Domino Lake Campground." Clark waited while someone in the background asked a
question. The voice that had answered his call belonged to a ranger at the
Domino Lake Ranger Station.

"Can you describe them, Mr. Jones?"

"Yes sir. The man is about 6'2", around fifty years old and has dark hair with
some grey at the temples. He's wearing a T-shirt and jeans. The little girl is
about seven or eight, wearing a white T-shirt that's kind of dirty, blue shorts
and sandals. She's got brown hair, brown eyes and freckles. When I saw her she
was crying."

"We'll send somebody to check it out," the voice said.

"Thanks," Clark said. "I'm on a borrowed cell phone, so you won't be able to
call me back. All the pay phones here are out of order for some reason."

"We know," the voice assured him. "Wait at the Convenience Center. We'll have a
car there in ten minutes."

"Hey, look!" someone shouted.

Clark turned to look in the direction of the man's pointing finger. Up the
slight rise and some distance away, he could see the red flicker of flames in
five different places, equally spaced, and five columns of smoke were rising to
blot out patches of the stars.

He spoke again to the man on the phone. "I can't wait, sir. There's a fire up
where I left my fiancee! I've got to get back to her right away."

"Now listen," the voice said. "We see the fires. Don't go up there or we'll have
to rescue you, too --" But he was speaking to empty air. Clark had handed the
cell phone back to the man from whom he had borrowed it and was already running
toward the trail.

The owner of the cell phone spoke into the little device. "Save your breath.
He's already gone."

A four-letter word answered him, for which he didn't blame the ranger at all.

**********

Clark ran up the trail as fast as his legs could carry him, considering the
obstructions in his path. The trail was narrow and uneven, and he had to keep
his speed down somewhat to avoid the worst of the hazards. Briefly, he wished
that his power to fly would return as suddenly as his X-ray vision had this
afternoon but it looked like he was going to have to handle this like an
ordinary man. Almost, anyway.

He could see things around him clearly, even under the trees that blocked out
the moon and starlight. His ability to see in all but complete darkness had
obviously returned in full force -- but since that was the power that ten year
old Clark Kent had noticed first, and the most un-alarming of them all, all it
told him was that his recovery was progressing, although not nearly as fast as
he would like. If only Superman were back to full operating capacity! If he
were, most of the problems they were dealing with would be easily resolved,
including the fires that he and the others had seen burning above him on the
slope.

Fires that, he realized, had to have been deliberately set. The five fires were
equidistant from each other, obviously meant to burn a certain area -- an area
that encompassed their campsite. Unfortunately, they also included the other
nearby campsites in their circles of destruction, not to mention the fact that
they were bound to spread. Kansas hadn't had rain in several weeks and the woods
were dry. With the addition of the brisk breeze that had sprung up a short time
ago, it was going to be a miracle if the fire crews were able to contain it to
one small area.

Someone was ahead of him on the trail. Their presence was announced by the
excited voices of children and the frantic barking of a dog. Then the beams of
flashlights became visible as the family group that he and Lois had encountered
earlier came down the trail in disorganized flight. They must not have dared to
try to leave in their camper, he thought in dismay. That meant that fire was
probably blocking the driving trails.

He stepped aside to let them pass. As they did so, the children's father turned
to him. "Don't go up there," he cautioned. "The fire's spreading fast."

"I have to," Clark told him. "I left my fiancee at the campsite!" He squeezed
past the dog, sending the animal into another paroxysm of hysterical barking.
"I'll be careful but thanks for the warning."

He ran on up the trail, leaving the family behind.

He could hear the fire now, he realized, the crackling of burning wood and the
peculiar roaring sound that seems exclusive to wildfires. It was ahead and on
both sides of him now.

Two more people, a man and a woman, were coming down the trail with more haste
than grace. He moved aside to let them past -- the newlyweds whose campsite that
Lois and he had checked out in their search for Bethany and her kidnapper.

"Don't go up there," the man panted as he hurried his wife toward the meager
safety of the Convenience Center. "You'll be killed!"

"I have to get to my fiancee," Clark said. "Go on -- get out of here. This place
is going to be burning in a few minutes."

The man nodded and together he and his wife half-ran on down the path. They
should make it all right, Clark assured himself. The fire was blowing this way
but it was still some distance away. Lois was in much more danger and no one was
going to stop him from getting to her. There was no way that he would allow
anyone or anything to take her away from him again.

Within ten minutes he was ascending the steepest part of the trail. This was the
section of the path that required wooden steps to have been installed in several
places. Clark went up the steps three at a time. The smoke was heavy in the air
and the roar of the fire was louder. Somewhere behind him he heard the crackle
and sizzle as a bush burst into flame beside the trail, and then another, and
another. His path of retreat was cut off.

Another body was plunging toward him from above and it took him barely a second
to recognize David Waters. He stepped aside and let the man go. He didn't have
the time to deal with him now.

"Lois!" he shouted. "Lois, can you hear me?"

From not far away, Lois's voice answered him. "Clark!"

"I'm right here!" he shouted. "Where are you?"

"Right here!"

Her voice was coming from the side path that led to their own campsite. Clark
dived into the narrower path and ran.

He arrived at the clearing to see Lois and Bethany Gordon huddled against the
rental car. Bethany had a piece of cloth that he recognized as the shirt that
Lois had used for swimming this afternoon held across her face. He ran toward
them. "Are you all right?"

"Do we *look* all right?" Lois said with a trace of sarcasm. "The fire was all
around the other camp. I was afraid we'd get trapped, trying to go down the
trail!"

Bethany had flinched away from him and was now half-hidden behind Lois. It
didn't surprise him at all after what had happened to her, but that would have
to be dealt with later. "The path's blocked," he told them. "We're cut off. We
can't go back that way. The fire's spreading fast."

"Waters went that way." Lois coughed, covering her mouth and nose with a
frivolous little lace handkerchief that didn't look at all like something that
she would buy. She had apparently soaked hers and Bethany's improvised masks in
water from the canteen that swung from her shoulder.

"I know. He went past me. The path is blocked." Clark looked around, trying to
decide what to do. "Get in the car, quick."

Lois reached into her pocket for her keys and pulled out an empty hand. "The
keys are gone! I must have dropped them somewhere."

Clark grasped the handle of the driver's door and yanked. He was beginning to
get his Superman strength back, he knew. He could only hope that he was strong
enough.

There was a squeal of protesting metal and the door came off in his hand. He
didn't have time to contemplate the implications of that now, but dropped it on
the ground. Hopefully, Perry's insurance, or the rental company's would cover
the damage. "Get in!"

Lois pushed Bethany into the car. "Get in the back seat," she told her.

"You too," Clark said. "Get down on the floor. This could get pretty hot." He
got into the driver's seat, bent down to lift the floor mat and retrieved the
spare key.

Lois didn't argue. He'd known that in an emergency he could count on her but it
was reassuring to see it in action. Lois slid over the seat and scrunched down
on the floor beside Bethany. Clark glanced over the tops of his glasses at the
access road that they had come in on earlier this afternoon. The trees on both
sides of it were smoking, and little flickers of flame were dancing from the
branches. Farther down the road, however, the fire had taken hold. The smaller
trees on both sides of the exit route were engulfed in flame. It looked like
something out of Dante's Inferno, but at least what he was doing gave them a
chance. It was a good thing he knew this camping area as well as he did.

Clark gunned the motor. "Hold on to whatever you can hold to. This is going to
be a real bumpy ride." He eased in the clutch and the car moved forward.

He slewed it around and put the accelerator down. The car lunged forward,
straight toward the exit road and between the smouldering trees. He heard a
faint scream from Bethany but Lois didn't make a sound.

The road twisted and turned but Clark took the curves as fast as he could. Ashes
and little bits of burning matter speckled the windshield and blew against him
through the open space where the car's door had been. They stung slightly where
they contacted his exposed skin but he didn't try to brush them away. He trusted
that his returning invulnerability would be enough to protect him against such
minor irritants, because he needed all his attention to keep the car on the road
-- until they reached a certain spot.

There it was, coming up ahead. The road crossed the narrow river channel that
was one of the tributaries feeding Domino Lake. A wooden bridge crossed the
water, and it was burning sullenly, sending off streamers of smoke. He could see
the edges of the boards glowing orange and his keen night-vision showed him that
the boards themselves were blackened. The flickering orange glow of the fires
lit the sky with a nightmarish mixture of red, gold and orange and the rising
air from the flames flung the embers swirling upward.

Clark aimed the car directly for the wooden safety rails that edged the banks on
either side of the bridge. It was a ten-foot slope, but it looked like their
best chance. The trees on the other side of the bridge were blazing.

"Brace yourselves," he told them. "This is going to be rough."

The front grill of the car contacted the wooden rails and they snapped. Bethany
screamed as the car rolled and bounced down the steep incline and into the
river.

The water came up to the axles. He turned the car toward the lake, hoping the
engine wouldn't flood out too soon. There were uneven rocks and pieces of fallen
debris in the water, but the river was remarkably clear of obstructions for a
river. They bounced and jounced over the rocky riverbed and he thought
irrelevantly that the shocks were going to need to be replaced, but he kept
going. All around them, on both sides now, the smaller trees were blazing. Clark
could feel the heat on his skin and prayed that Lois and Bethany weren't getting
it too bad. It didn't seem to burn him, though, and he dared to hope that his
invulnerability might have mostly returned. Still, there wasn't anything to do
but go on and trust that their luck wouldn't run out too soon.

He heard the roar of an approaching plane and risked a quick glance upward. A
huge tanker plane that the local forest service used for fighting fires swooped
by overhead. The emergency services were already in action, he thought with
relief. Still, that didn't mean that Lois, Bethany and he were out of danger.

Water sloshed across the bottom of the doorframe and he knew the river was
deepening. The car's engine wasn't going to be able to stand this much longer
but they weren't far from the lake now. If the engine quit, there was at least a
decent chance that they could make it.

Two minutes later, the engine sputtered suddenly and went silent.

Out of habit, Clark put the car in first gear and set the emergency brake, even
though logically he knew it wouldn't do any good. The entire floor of the car
was several inches under water. It was a wonder that the engine had held out
this far. The car swayed unsteadily in the current running past.

Clark twisted around to peer over the back seat. "The engine's flooded. We're
going to have to go the rest of the way on foot."

Lois let go of Bethany and got up off the floor. "The engine's not the only
thing that's flooded. Where are we?"

"In the river. We're about a quarter of a mile from the lake. If we can get
there we can stay in the water until they get this thing under control." He'd
been hearing the sounds of more fire fighting planes and helicopters for a good
five minutes. "They're bombing the fire with fire retardant and water from the
lake. All we have to do is stay out of the way."

He could see her hesitation for a split second, and then she nodded. "Come on,
Bethany. We have to get out. Just stay with me. Clark and I won't let David hurt
you again."

Clark unfastened his seat belt and stepped carefully out into the river. The
water came well past his knees and he could see debris from the fire swirling
downstream with the current. Lois helped Bethany over the rear seat and Clark
held out a hand. Bethany flinched back. Clark backed away a step.

"I won't hurt you, Bethany. My name is Clark Kent. I'm Lois's fiance. Come on --
we have to hurry."

Bethany glanced back at Lois, who nodded encouragingly at her. "Clark won't hurt
you. Go on. I'll be right behind you."

Bethany slowly got out of the car, clutching the frame. The girl was hip-deep in
the water but she watched Clark warily.

He made no move to approach her. "You're safe, Bethany. I already called the
rangers about you. Lois stayed to make sure you were all right while I went down
to the phones."

Bethany glanced back at Lois, who was stepping down from the car into the river.
She nodded to Bethany. "That's exactly what happened. I saw you down at the
ladies room and Clark saw David waiting for you. We thought something was wrong
so we came to find out for sure." She hesitated. "We're newspaper reporters. We
won't let you get hurt." Lois reached out a hand. "Hold onto me, just in case,
all right?"

Bethany slipped her hand into Lois's and Lois extended her other hand to Clark.
Slowly, he began to lead Lois and Bethany downstream.

**********
tbc

*********************************
Earth is the insane asylum for the universe.

---------------------------------
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[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Wedding Rearrangement: 9/10
by Nan Smith

Rachel Harris pulled her squad car to a stop behind the fire lines. Her
trip to Pepper, with the accelerator pressed flat to the floor most of
the way, had been hair-raising enough but on arrival she had found that
there was a fire at Domino Lake's campgrounds -- one that had in all
probability been set. It tended to confirm her theory. Someone else
might actually be the culprit but an enforcer was trying to kill
Luthor's widow in such a way as to make it look like an accident, and
now there was a bad fire where Clark and Lois had gone camping. It was
too much of a coincidence for her taste. If her trip to Pepper had been
fast, she must have broken all international speed records to make it to
the campgrounds.

She killed the engine and left the car, looking around for someone in
authority who could answer questions.

One large family accompanied by a dog the size of a small grizzly bear
and with a disturbing resemblance to one, occupied three benches near a
parking spot where an ambulance sat. A young man and woman huddled
together on another bench -- people who had managed to escape the flames
without their vehicles, she guessed, waiting for who knew what --
transportation, maybe. Well, it couldn't hurt to talk to them. Maybe
someone had seen Clark or Lois this evening.

She approached the group, keeping an eye on the dog. It saw her and
instantly began to bark frantically at her.

"Quiet, Bear!" That was one of the kids and to Rachel's surprise the dog
instantly became silent.

"Excuse me," Rachel said, speaking to the man who sat on the nearest
bench. He must be the father of this small mob of children, she figured
-- five by actual count and, if Rachel was any judge, the oldest was no
more than eleven.

"Yes?" The man turned to look up at her and then got to his feet. The
woman beside him also rose and Rachel wasn't surprised to realize that
she was apparently expecting again. She might be three or four months
along.

Rachel smiled at them as disarmingly as she could. "Please, sit down.
You look like you've had a rough evening."

Slowly, the two of them resumed their seats. Rachel took a precarious
perch on the approximately five square inches of unoccupied bench across
from them. The two-year-old next to her squirmed and looked
reproachfully at her before getting down and running over to fling her
arms around the dog's neck and pull on its ears. The animal promptly
flopped down on its side and began to vigorously wash the child's foot.

"I'm the County Sheriff,” Rachel informed the parents of the small mob.
"I wonder, could you tell me anything about this evening? Do you have
any idea how the fire started?"

Both immediately shook their heads. The man glanced at the dog. "The
first we knew something was wrong was when Bear started going crazy." He
paused. "I'm Ed Walker, by the way."

"Rachel Harris," Rachel said. "Go on."

"Well, at first I thought he was just barking at a squirrel or something
but he wouldn't shut up even when Tommy told him to." He nodded at the
child who had spoken to the dog. "I went to see what it was and saw the
fire above us on the slope. It had blocked off the driving trail and I
didn't want to risk trying to drive through it with the camper, so we
took off down the trail to the Convenience Center. I guess," he said
hopefully, "that it was a good idea to pay extra for the optional
insurance the rental company offered after all. I thought it was a waste
of money, but Amber insisted."

Rachel fished in her pocket and took out her wallet. A newspaper
clipping, with a photo of Clark Kent was folded inside one of the
compartments and she took it out. "I wonder -- have you seen this man
today? He was supposed to be camping here at Domino Lake."

Walker took the photo and held it so that the headlights of one of the
emergency vehicles fell across it. He frowned. "Yeah, I've seen him
somewhere. Don't know where, though."

"He's a reporter," Rachel said. "I'm trying to locate him."

Amber leaned over to look at the clipping. "Sure," she said. "We saw him
this afternoon. Remember the two people that accidentally came into the
camp? They'd got turned around and took the wrong trail."

"Oh yeah --" Ed scratched his collarbone with one finger. "Yeah, sure. I
think it was him, later, too, when we were on the way down. He was
running back up to get his girlfriend."

"When?" Rachel asked sharply.

"After the fire had started. He said he'd left her up there and had to
find her."

"You mean he ran back up where the fire was?" Rachel asked in dismay.

"Yeah. I didn't see him after that, though. I sure hope they didn't get
--" He broke off.

Rachel hoped not, too. "Which camping spot were you in?" she asked,
already sure of the answer.

"We were on the Lakeside Trail camping area -- campsite #1," Ed told
her. He nodded at the young couple that Rachel had noticed earlier.
"They were in campsite #2. I guess everybody else got out before the
fire blocked off their roads. Just our luck."

Rachel got to her feet. "Thanks," she said. "I appreciate the information."

It was just like Clark to do something stupid trying to save somebody
else, she thought as she hurried toward the barricade. Like the time in
Smallville when he was seventeen, that he'd charged into a burning house
in town to rescue the Anderson family's cat. He'd done it, too, and both
he and the cat had somehow escaped with nothing but a few scorches to
his clothes and the cat's whiskers. Rachel had been sixteen and hadn't
been shy about telling him what a stupid stunt it had been, even if he
hadn't gotten hurt.

She hoped fervently that he'd walk out of this one unhurt, too. Telling
Martha and Jonathan that their son had been killed in a forest fire was
something that she *really* didn't want to do.

Several uniformed rangers were moving about in the lights of the
emergency vehicles and with them, she saw, was a man in a sheriff's
uniform. Dan Wilson, the Deputy who manned the sheriff's office in
Pepper, was using a flashlight to examine a map that the men had spread
out on the bed of a pickup truck.

"Dan!" she called. He lifted his head at the sound of his name and saw her.

"Hi, Rachel -- I mean, 'Sheriff'," he said. "I got your message. What's
going on?"

"We've had a murder in Smallville," Rachel said. "They told me back in
town that there was a big fire up here. What happened?"

"This one was set," Dan said grimly.

"How can they tell so soon?" Rachel asked.

"They saw it from one of the spotter planes," Dan explained, "and caught
it on video. Five fires that pretty much started at the same time -- set
in a semicircle around one of the camping areas. It was pretty weird.
They had to have been on some kind of timer."

"*Which* camping area?" Rachel asked.

"Lakeside Trail," Dan said. "Why?"

"I was afraid of that," Rachel said.

"Huh?"

"The fires were set to kill Lois Lane," she said.

"You mean that reporter who married Lex Luthor last week?" Dan said.
"Rachel, what the he -- heck is going on?"

"Plenty," Rachel said. "You want the long version or the short one?"

"Let's try the short one for starters."

"Okay, you asked for it," Rachel said. "The whole thing is about
Luthor's money."

"That sounds logical. In the end, most murders are about money."

"Yeah. Well, as you know, Luthor had billions and, as his wife, Lane
inherits half of Luthor's legitimate assets, but if she dies of natural
causes within thirty days of his death, the money reverts to the estate
and is divided between the other heirs."

Dan raised a satirical eyebrow. "Are you saying somebody decided he
doesn't want to share several billion dollars?"

"Something like that," Rachel said. "Clark Kent told me there have been
two attempts to kill her 'accidentally' in the last week. They've been
staying with his parents on their farm, outside town since yesterday and
this afternoon I got a call from the Metropolis Police. They'd had a tip
that an enforcer for Luthor's criminal syndicate was on his way to
Smallville to find the Kents and get Lane's location from them, since
Clark is her reporting partner. I think the guy they sent killed one of
the reporters that's been hanging around Smallville and took his place.
I think he followed them here and tried to arrange for Lane to die
'accidentally' in a forest fire."

Dan's eyebrows had climbed into his hairline by the time she finished
speaking. "You mean some big city hit man came out here and tried to
burn down Domino Lake Campground to kill Lex Luthor's widow?"

"Yeah," Rachel said. "That's pretty much it."

Dan swore softly under his breath. "If I get my hands on him, you're
going to have to arrest *me* for murder," he said. "Let's just hope he
didn't succeed."

"I just talked to one of the campers who said he thinks he saw Clark
running up into the fire area to try to find Miss Lane," Rachel said.

Dan shook his head. "That's not good. That whole section was pretty much
blocked off by fire within about twenty minutes after it started. If
they got trapped up there --" He let the sentence hang.

"I'm not so sure of that," Rachel said. She reached out to rap her
knuckles on one of the painted wooden sawhorses that made up the
barricade. "With anyone else, I'd figure they'd had it but Clark's
luckier than anybody has a right to be. His family camped here a lot
when he was a kid and he knows the lay of the land pretty well. Where
would they go if they couldn't make it back to the Convenience Center?"

"Here's the map of the whole campground," Dan said, pointing to the one
spread out on the bed of the pickup. "If they were in the Lakeside Trail
area --" He traced a finger across the lines on the paper with the
burning area marked in red ink. "If they could make it to the river,
they might be able to follow it to the lake."

"Can we get there with the fire and everything?" Rachel asked.

"I guess so. The fire's on the campground side, but we can go around to
the north dock and take an inflatable over to the delta. That's probably
where they'd be if you're right." He turned to one of the rangers who
had been listening to the conversation. "We need to borrow an inflatable
and an emergency medical kit."

**********

Lois hung tightly on to Bethany's hand as they made their way slowly
down the river. Clark was moving smoothly and carefully for their sakes;
Lois had no doubt that he could move much faster alone. He was looking
over the tops of his glasses, and, she suspected, guiding them past the
more difficult obstacles with his x-ray vision. Superman, she thought,
was well on his way to being back to normal. She hadn't missed the fact
that his left arm was speckled with tiny pieces of charred vegetation
and that his shirt was dotted with holes where burning specks of debris
had landed during that last wild ride but it was obvious that none of
that bothered him at all. River water splashed onto his arm, washing
away the specks, revealing no burned spots on his skin at all when by
rights the arm of an ordinary man would have been reddened and blistered.

Ashes were settling out of the sky, sifting endlessly down like powder.
Bethany's mouth and nose were covered with the makeshift mask of Lois's
wet swimming shirt, but Lois couldn't hold the handkerchief to her face
while holding both Bethany's hand and Clark's. She tugged on his arm. "I
need to put something over my face. I don't want to breathe this stuff."

"Huh?" He glanced up. "You're right. I didn't think about it. Just a
minute." He fished in his pocket to remove a handkerchief with his
initials embroidered on one corner. Lois had noticed that most of his
handkerchiefs were embroidered in a like manner but it hadn't occurred
to her to ask. Surely Clark didn't spend the evening embroidering his
initials on his handkerchiefs, did he?

Clark had followed her gaze and now he grinned. "My Aunt Opal embroiders
and she always sends me handkerchiefs with my initials on them for my
birthday and Christmas. One year she and Mom got into a contest of how
many ways they could embroider my initials onto articles of clothing and
sneak it into designs so that I couldn't see it. I always found it, but
toward the end it was getting difficult. Let me have your canteen. I
need to rinse this thing out. It's soaked with river water."

Lois handed him the canteen and watched as he carefully rinsed out the
cloth. After a moment, he handed it back. "Tie it over your mouth and
nose. That should help."

Lois obeyed. "What else did they embroider?" she asked, knotting the
cloth at the back of her head. She grasped Bethany's hand once more.

Clark took her free hand and they started on again. "You don't want to
know."

"Yes I do," she insisted. "Come on, Clark, give. You have to know I'll
ask your mom."

"And she'd probably tell you, too," Clark said with resignation. "They
embroidered everything. I almost died from embarrassment when I
discovered that Aunt Opal had embroidered some of my...um...shorts on
the seat and...uh...other places."

Lois nearly broke into giggles. "Really?"

"You'd better believe it. And I haven't dared wear the tie she made. I
haven't thrown it away because if I do she's bound to ask me if I still
have it and her feelings will be hurt."

That figured, she thought. Clark didn't like to hurt people's feelings.
Superman, it seemed, had an unexpectedly soft heart.

“Have you still got the shorts, too?” she asked.

It still amazed her that she was capable of making Superman blush. His
face definitely had gotten pinker in just the last couple of minutes.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I was afraid to throw them away.”

“Oh? Why?”

“If anybody ever found them and figured out who they belong to, what
would they think?” he protested. “I mean, good grief! Besides, they're
from Aunt Opal. She's really a very nice woman and -- except for things
like that. I like her a lot. She really means well.”

And he didn't want to hurt her feelings, Lois thought. She made up her
mind that after she and Clark were married that she was going to insist
that he model them for her -- but she didn't say so. Instead, she asked.
“How far now?”

“Just a little farther,” he told her. He glanced back at Bethany. “How
are you doing, Bethany? Can you hang on a little longer?”

Bethany nodded and Lois felt her small hand tighten a little.

“Don't worry,” she told Clark. “I'm hanging on tight to her. We won't
let anything happen to you,” she added to the little girl. “After we get
to the lake somebody's sure to find us after while. Then we can make a
phone call to your mom and dad and let them know you're safe.”

Bethany nodded soberly but now, for the first time, she actually looked
straight at Clark. “You're not like David,” she said.

Clark smiled tentatively at her. “No, I'm not. I'm not going to let him
get his hands on you again.”

“If we can, we're going to try to help the police put him in jail again
-- for the rest of his life,” Lois added.

“I hope he burned up in the fire,” Bethany said, her childish voice low
and intense. “I hate him. He hurt me.”

Lois could hardly blame her. “Well, whatever happens to him, he can't
hurt you any more,” she said.

“Come on,” Clark said. “Let's get to the lake. The air ought to be
clearer there, too.”

They resumed their progress. Lois kept her eyes on Clark as he led them
carefully downstream. Ahead, she could see an opening in the trees where
the river widened and ran into the lake. It was only a short distance
away now.

“Look out!”

Clark's voice startled her and she felt herself grabbed around the waist
by one of Clark's arms, and a rush of motion. Then she discovered that
she and Bethany were being pinned tightly against the riverbank by
Clark's body. Somewhere behind them, she heard a crashing noise and a
massive splash, followed instantly by a deafening hiss.

Slowly, Clark released them and Lois turned to see what had happened.
One of the larger trees had fallen and now lay partially in the river.
Flames still streamed upward from the branches that remained in the air,
fanned by the strong wind created by the fire.

“Wow,” she said faintly. “That was close.”

“Yeah,” Clark said grimly. “Let's hurry.”

They sorted themselves out quickly and again Clark took the lead,
hurrying them along as fast as they could manage. Bethany's hand
clutched Lois's with almost frantic intensity and it was obvious that
she was near exhaustion but she made no protest. Lois found herself
apprehensively watching the burning trees on either side of them for any
signs of another such collapse.

But the delta was suddenly yards away, and then feet. And then all at
once her feet were no longer touching the muddy bottom and she found
herself treading water.

Clark released her hand, turning to look at Bethany. “Can you make it
all right?” he asked.

Bethany nodded, spitting out water. The girl was treading water almost
effortlessly. “I can swim.”

“Good,” Clark said. He pointed. “See that line of buoys out there? I
want you to head for that. If we hang onto the rope, we'll be able to
stay in the water until somebody sees us.”

Bethany nodded and struck out with a sidestroke toward the buoys. Lois
raised her eyebrows at Clark and followed. Bethany had apparently had a
good deal of swimming instruction from her parents. The girl's form was
better than Lois's, and she had always considered herself a pretty good
swimmer. Clark brought up the rear. Lois suspected that he had done so
in order to keep an eye on them both, just in case. Superman, she
thought again. Clark always seemed to take the responsibility on himself
to make sure that others were safe. It was just the way he was wired,
with or without his powers. Although she thought that if his powers were
not all the way back they would be soon.

Far across the water she could see the lights when one of the fire
fighting copters swooped in low, filling it's huge container from the
lake, and rose vertically once more into the air before it turned
majestically and made its way back toward the fire. It roared past
overhead, the sound of the rotors so loud that her ears rang after it
passed. A smaller plane buzzed by a little to the south, also headed for
the fire. She closed her eyes for an instant, hoping that the skilled
and courageous men and women who were fighting the monster behind them
would come through alive and unhurt. Then she turned her attention to
making progress toward the line of buoys.

The water of the lake was choppy in the stiff breeze that was blowing
across its surface, but the haze of smoke was lighter here. The breeze,
coming from the west, was carrying the smoke to the east, away from
them. Lois's throat was still raw but her lungs were already feeling
better. The aching sensation from having inhaled too much smoke was
already easing in the clearer air above the lake. The silver light of a
full moon hanging nearly overhead made everything around them clearly
visible.

The roar of an outboard engine caught her attention with a flood of
relief. Someone had seen them already and was coming to their aid. She
came to a stop in the water and waved.

“Lois!” Clark had moved up close to her in the water. “Make for the
buoys! Get Bethany out of here -- quick!”

“What --” Lois started to object but he had turned in the water and she
saw that he was moving with better than human speed to place himself
between them and the boat. It was a sleek, expensive sport craft, she
realized, painted silver with red racing stripes. Not a craft belonging
to any of the rescue services.

And then she saw what Clark must have already somehow realized. The man
in the boat wasn't a ranger or a cop. He was dressed in ordinary
civilian clothing, and he was coming full speed at the three of them,
making no attempt to slow down.

He was going to run them down, she thought, changing her sidestroke to a
crawl. “Come on, Bethany!” she ordered. "Swim!”

Her recent kidnapping must have made Bethany a good deal less trusting
of her fellow man, Lois thought, for at Lois's warning she didn't even
pause or attempt to ask a question. She shifted to a powerful racing
crawl, pulling ahead even of Lois. Thus it was only Lois who saw what
happened next.

Clark submerged in a surface dive so smooth that he barely disturbed the
water. The boat was coming toward her at full speed and it was as if she
could see the eyes of the man guiding it focused directly on her.

Somehow the forces of LexCorp's new boss must have tracked them here,
she realized belatedly, though how he had guessed where she would be
Lois had not the faintest idea. However it had been done, he clearly
intended to run her down, to stun or kill her and leave her in the lake,
the victim of an accident. Clark and Bethany would have to be taken care
of too, but she thought he might manage that easily. If he shot them it
would be suspicious but it he ran them down, too, it was just an
unfortunate accident. He could claim that they had all been bunched
together and he hadn't seen them in the dark. Or he could dispose of
them a dozen other ways. He might have to face charges of some kind, but
LexCorp's lawyers would undoubtedly take care of things the way they
usually did, and the important thing would be that Lex Luthor's widow
was no longer in the running for the inheritance.

Lois turned and swam as hard as she could, aware that she stood no
chance at all against a speedboat, but praying that Clark had some kind
of rabbit up his sleeve. The lights of the boat seemed to pin her
against the lake's surface like a fly on a plate and the roar of its
engine grew to deafening volume. She glanced back once to see the boat
barely twenty feet behind her and coming hard -- and at that second it
happened.

The speedboat flipped smartly upward into the air, spinning, and its
pilot flew free. Lois couldn't imagine what had happened. Dazzled by the
headlamp of the boat, she couldn't see anything that it could have
encountered in the water but it must have hit something, she thought.

And then the boat stopped in midair, and she caught her breath, staring
up at a miracle. She couldn't see his face, but the brilliant blue and
red of Superman's uniform was clearly visible as he slowly lowered the
craft to the surface of the water with one hand. In the other hand he
grasped the craft's pilot by the back of his belt.

As he came closer, Clark's face became clearer in the bright moonlight
and he was smiling.

“Hello, Lois,” he said, “fancy meeting you here.”

“Superman!” she sputtered.

“In the flesh,” he said. “Why don't you and your friend keep swimming
for those buoys. I'd pick you up right away, but I think the police will
want to speak with this fellow -- and I don't want him to dispose of any
of the interesting things that he seems to have in his possession.
There's a rescue raft on its way, just a little north of you. I'll let
them know where you are on the way past. You can tell them that I said
Clark is all right, too. He'll be along in twenty minutes or so.”

He probably would, Lois thought as she turned back toward the buoys and
Bethany Gordon, who was treading water a few feet away, her gaze fixed
on the superhero as he vanished upward into the hazy night sky. It
probably would take Superman about that long to help the firefighters
get the blaze under control. And Lane and Kent would get the story of
that as well as the one about Bethany and her return to her parents. The
Metropolis Star could kiss goodbye any pretense it had of taking the
place of the Daily Planet in Metropolis.

Lane and Kent were coming back with *style*.

**********

tbc

Wedding Rearrangement: 10/10
by Nan Smith

"Clark!" Rachel Harris turned as Clark walked into the little aid center
where Lois and Bethany were being treated for minor bumps, bruises and
mild smoke inhalation. "Are you all right?

"Sure, I'm fine," Clark said. "How are Lois and Bethany?"

"We're all right," Lois said, answering his question. "We need to put in
a call to Bethany's parents. There's no excuse for making them worry any
longer than necessary."

"Come on over and let the paramedics have a look at you," Rachel urged.

Clark shook his head. "I feel *fine* Rach. No cough, no burns, no
scratches -- nothing. The only treatment I need is a shower."

The paramedic laughed. "At least come over here and let me do a quick
once over. You look the picture of health but your shirt sure could use
a patch or two."

Reluctantly, Clark approached the man and exhibited his undamaged arm
under the sleeve of the tattered shirt. "Some ashes blew onto me while
we were in the river. I just ducked under the water fast. See?" He
peeled up the shirt, exposing washboard abs. "Not even a scorch."

The sound of Lois's heartbeat speeded up and he saw that she was
watching the tableau closely. Well, it wasn't bad that she liked to look
at him shirtless, was it? He was sure that he would enjoy the reverse,
once they were married.

"Let me listen to your lungs," the man said. "We've had several people
with some smoke inhalation tonight."

Lois rolled her eyes at the man's persistence, but Clark obeyed. At last
the paramedic put down the stethoscope. "Well, I don't know why, but you
sound fine. If you develop any breathing difficulty in the next few
days, see a doctor right away. All right?"

"All right," Clark said. He turned to Rachel. "Where did you put the guy
that Superman brought in?"

"We've got him locked in the back of my car, until we get a transport
here for him," Rachel said. "Why?"

"Well, Superman said that you told him that you thought whoever was
after Lois might have killed a reporter and taken his place. I'd like to
see if he's the same person that showed up at the farm. I'm the only one
that saw him, so --"

"All right," Rachel said. She waited while one of the rangers handed
Clark an intact shirt to replace the one he wore. "Come on out this way.
He had a bunch of stuff in his pockets that could have been used to make
some fire bombs, so he may be our arsonist. And," she added, "the boat
was stolen so we can hold him on a charge of grand theft until we have a
chance to investigate thoroughly." She paused for a second. "By the way
-- do you by any chance recognize this?" She held up a cellular phone.

"That's Martha's phone!" Lois exclaimed. "So that's where it went!"

"I guess that explains why you didn't answer when Clark's parents tried
to call you earlier," Rachel said. She pushed the door open. "This way."

"You think he started the fires to try to kill Lois?" Clark asked,
following her obediently out the door.

"I think it's a good possibility. We're still looking for his car. It
can't be too far away."

Clark could answer that. He'd flown over the entire area to look at the
damage and had seen a rental car, similar to the one Ben Maher had
driven to the Kent farm, parked under the trees by the river some
distance from the fire. "I saw a rental car upriver a bit, while
Superman was flying me around to look at the damage," he said. "It was
parked two or three miles upstream. It could have been the one he was
driving this morning."

"Nice observation," Rachel said. "We'll check it out. I guess sometimes
you reporters are worth something after all."

"I hope so," Clark said. "And after I see this guy, maybe we could put
in a call to the police in Bethany's hometown. Like Lois says, we need
to tell her parents their little girl is safe. They must be going out of
their minds."

"We will," Rachel said. "I think I'll turn custody of her over to you
and Lois until we can arrange transportation for her home. She's had
enough disruption for the last few days. Our paramedic says she's
physically all right, except for -- well, what happened to her. I'm sure
the family will want to take her to their own doctor. She's been hanging
onto Miss Lane like a security blanket ever since we picked them up.
Can't say I blame her."

"I hope your people are keeping an eye out for Waters," Clark said.

Rachel cocked her head. "My daddy would have said you shouldn't try to
teach Grampaw how to chaw tobaccy, city boy," she drawled. "Everybody's
looking for him. If he managed to make it out alive, that is. The place
where Miss Lane last saw him pretty much burned to the ground. They're
going to have to bring in some young trees and plant them in the burned
areas so we can have our campgrounds back to normal in a few years."

"Yeah," Clark said. He promised himself that Superman would make some
time to volunteer in that effort. And he could plant a few larger trees
as well. He knew of some overgrown forests that were firetraps waiting
to happen. A number of them were slated for thinning, and moving the
same kind of trees from them to the local campground couldn't hurt, as
long as they were healthy trees, and as long as the local governments
didn't mind.

"Here he is," Rachel said, indicating her car. A man in the uniform of a
Deputy stood beside the car. "Dan, this is Clark Kent. Clark, Dan Wilson."

"Hi," Clark said.

Dan nodded politely. "So you're the guy with the lucky rabbit's foot,"
he remarked. He looked at Rachel. "You were right. If I hadn't seen it,
I never would have believed it."

Rachel grinned at Clark. "You've already got a reputation around here."

"What did I do?" Clark asked.

"Waded through fire, flood and famine -- well, maybe not the famine --
and got Miss Lane and Bethany out of trouble," Rachel said. "Without
picking up a scratch or a scorch. Honestly, one of these days you're
luck's going to run out."

"You sound like my dad," Clark said. "Can you turn on the light in the
car? I want to see this guy." Actually he had already identified him
half an hour before. He leaned close to the window as Rachel opened the
front door to turn on the dome light. "This is the guy that called
himself Ben Maher -- the one that showed up at the farm this morning."

Rachel nodded. "I figured that. Maisie Allen found the real Ben Maher
about nine o'clock this evening -- stabbed and lying behind her
dumpster." She shut the car door. "He'd been dead for hours. It's lucky
she always walks around the dumpster and picks up the pieces of trash on
the ground or he might not have been found until the trash collectors
showed up on Friday. By that time this guy would have been long gone."

"Then he's --"

"Your Inspector Henderson from Metropolis called earlier today," Rachel
said. "He'd had a tip that there was an 'enforcer' coming out to
Smallville to try to get your whereabouts from your parents. I think
this may be him."

Clark nodded, gritting his teeth. The Mrs. was building up quite a
record for such a short time in Luthor's position. But at least Superman
was back now. He could take Lois somewhere for the remaining three weeks
and leave no trail that anyone could follow. Maybe he could convince his
mom and dad to go along -- or maybe he didn't need to. All that was
really necessary was for the Mrs. to realize that no one but Superman
knew where Lois was, and that he wasn't talking.

"Let's go back inside," he said. "I have a phone call to make."

**********

A short time later, two of Rachel's deputies showed up to escort their
arsonist/enforcer back to the jail in Smallville, pending further
transportation to more appropriate quarters, and Rachel offered Clark,
Lois and Bethany a lift back with her in her squad car. The trip to
Smallville was accomplished nearly in silence. Lois dozed with her head
on Clark's shoulder in the rear seat and Bethany sat in the front beside
Rachel, riding shotgun as Rachel phrased it. Bethany examined everything
in the squad car with wide fascinated eyes. "This car is cool," she
announced as they pulled out onto the road that led out of the camping
area. "Do you get to drive it all the time?"

"Yes," Rachel said. "I'm the County Sheriff, so I get the best one."

"Cool," Bethany repeated. "I'm going to be a sheriff when I grow up.
Then I can put people like David in jail."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Rachel said.

"Did you catch him yet?" Bethany asked.

"Not yet," Rachel said, "but we've got police and rangers and Superman
looking for him. We'll find him if he's still alive."

"I hope he's not," Bethany said darkly. "I hope he burned up in the
fire. He was a -- a --" She hesitated and then used a word that Clark's
mother would have tanned his hide for if she'd heard it pass his lips.

Rachel didn't bat an eye. "Yeah, he was," she agreed. "But I'd call him
a weasel if I were you. That isn't a very nice word. If I'd said that in
front of my mother, she'd have washed my mouth out with soap."

"David used it," Bethany said.

"Yeah, well, I don't think he's a very good person to copy, do you?"

Bethany fell silent, obviously thinking it over. "I guess not," she said
finally. "But he was a really nasty weasel!"

"That he was, sweetie," Rachel said.

Clark found himself smiling a little sleepily. It had been Superman's
first day back on the job and he had to admit to a little fatigue. A
good dose of sunlight tomorrow morning would fix that, though, he knew.

The ride to Smallville took nearly an hour and a half since Rachel
obeyed the speed limit this time. Martha and Jonathan Kent and Greg Ross
were still asleep when Lois, Clark and Bethany tiptoed softly into the
farmhouse but moments after their arrival, Greg appeared at the head of
the stairs. He was wearing pajamas and a bathrobe and in one hand he
held his .38 Special.

"Who's there?"

"It's just us, Greg," Rachel called softly.

Greg stuffed the revolver into the roomy pocket of his robe. "Sheriff?"
he asked, keeping his voice low. "What's happened?"

"Go ahead and get your clothes," Rachel told him. "I'll explain
everything on the way to your place. We got the guy and he's locked up
in the town jail for tonight."

"Great," Greg said. He glanced at Bethany but he didn't say anything.
"Give me a minute to change and I'll be right down."

A short time later, Greg and Rachel said goodbye. Clark shook Greg’s
hand and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for watching out for my
folks,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Greg said. “They’re great people. Next time you’re in
town, drop by and see us. We miss you. Mom and Dad read all your stuff
in the Daily Planet.”

“They do?” Clark said,

“Sure they do. Local boy makes good, didn’t you know?”

“It hadn’t occurred to me,” Clark said. “Well, in that case, look at the
front page in the morning. It’ll give you most of the details of what
happened tonight. Rachel can fill in the rest.”

After they had gone, Clark hurried upstairs to make up the bed in his
room for Bethany. Lois showed her the upstairs bedroom minutes later and
then went quietly downstairs again to join Clark in the living room.

He had made up the couch for her and was ready for her objections when
they came. "This is your house! You take the couch!"

"Sh!" he cautioned with a grin. "You'll wake up my parents. I don't need
the bed. Watch!" With a little hop, he achieved a reclining position in
the air, just level with her eyes. He stretched out as if he were lying
on a bed and then turned on his side, one hand supporting his chin. He
smiled innocently at her expression. "How's that?" he asked.

Lois stood staring at him for the better part of a minute and then slid
into the bed he had made for her on the couch. "Your life is so
strange," she said.

"And getting stranger by the minute," he agreed. "It doesn't bother me
if it doesn't bother you, though. Does it?"

She shook her head, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around
them. "No. Not really. I was dazzled by Superman because of all the
incredible things he could do. I'm hardly likely to change my mind now
just because I suddenly discovered that he’s my partner and he loves me."

"That's good." He drifted slowly toward her through the air. "I wouldn't
want you to be afraid of what I can do."

"Superman and Clark in one jumbo package," Lois said. "I think I'm
getting the best of both worlds." She patted the couch with one hand.
"Can you come over and sit next to me for a minute?" she asked, a more
serious note in her voice.

"Sure." He drifted over and settled gently down in the spot she had
indicated. "Is anything wrong?"

Lois leaned against him, resting her head against his chest and he
automatically put his arms around her. "What's the matter, honey?"

"I don't know. Nothing, really. It just been -- a crazy sort of day."

"I'll second that," he said.

"No -- it just sort of hit me how unpredictable life is," she amplified.
"If things hadn't worked out just right -- if that guy the Mrs. sent to
kill us had been just a little luckier -- one or both of us could have
died."

"I know," he said.

"And we'd never have known what it was like to be married to each
other," she said. "I would have missed being married to the man I never
expected to meet. You know -- you came along and I almost threw you
away! I was so busy trying to be careful, to be in control, trying to be
sure that no man could ever take advantage of me or hurt me again that I
nearly missed the best thing in my life. I'm so glad you never gave up,
in spite of every obstacle I put in your way."

"So am I," Clark said, wondering where this was going.

"So," Lois said, "I came to some decisions while we were waiting for the
raft to show up so we could be rescued. I don't want to wait."

"Huh?" Clark barely restrained himself from gaping at her. "Lois, we're
in my mom and dad's living room and Bethany's sleeping upstairs!"

"I didn't mean *that*," she said, giving him a light jab in the ribs
with an elbow. "What I meant was, I don't want to wait six months. How
long does it take to get a marriage license in Kansas?"

"Oh," Clark said, a little disappointed and relieved at the same time.
"It's three days from the day you apply. And for the record, I think
waiting six months is definitely too long. We can go over to the Town
Hall and fill out whatever forms we need to in the morning."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked, a little shyly. "You know what
the tabloids will all say about you, you know."

"The same thing they're saying about you," Clark said. "So what? They'll
have to eat their words when you donate it to the Superman Foundation
anyway."

She nodded. "Do you think we could get Perry and Jimmy out here for it?
And maybe ..." Her voice trailed off.

"Maybe who?"

"Well, my mother will have a cow, but I'd like her to know, at least.
And my dad. And--" She hesitated.

"Yes," he urged.

"Well, Lucy wanted to come to my wedding and she couldn't -- which was
just as well -- but I'd like her to be at the real one. And --"

"Who else?" Clark asked.

"Well, I know it's silly, and he'll probably say no, but -- Bill
Henderson turned out to be a better friend than I'd ever imagined he
could be. Do you think that maybe Superman could ask him?"

"No, but Clark Kent could," Clark said with a smile. "And Superman could
fly everyone here and back home so they don't miss anything important."
He pulled her tightly against his chest and kissed her soundly. "I like
this idea. And if we fly off on our honeymoon after that, we could be
gone for three weeks and no one would have any idea where we've gone
because Superman doesn't leave a trail. By the time we get back, the
time will be up and there won't be any advantage anyone could get by
killing you. Besides, maybe Henderson and Perry and the others will have
solved the case by then. And if they haven't, we can step in and give
them a hand."

**********

Lois and Clark returned from Smallville's Town Hall at ten thirty the
next morning, having picked up a copy of the Smallville Press on the
way. The news of the fire and the rescue of Bethany Gordon was on the
front page, with credit to the Daily Planet and to Lane and Kent, who
had saved the day and nailed the story. Perry White had been ecstatic
when Clark had phoned it in the night before from a gas station on the
way back to Smallville. They had taken advantage of Clark’s super speed,
and the Kent computer and fax machine, later that evening to send in a
more complete report.

The story was all over the television this morning as well. They had,
Lois observed happily, stirred up a hornet’s nest.

“That’s for sure,” Clark agreed. “I called Perry a little while ago
while you were still talking to Mom. He really liked your part -- the
way you tied the whole thing together. Bethany’s kidnapping and rescue,
the set fires, the environmental disaster averted by the firefighting
services and the last minute reappearance of Superman. It was great
writing.” He put an arm around her shoulders. Another thing they had
done this morning was tell Martha and Jonathan of their changed plans.
Martha had promptly shooed them out of the kitchen and told them to go
listen to the television because they were all over it. “If you’re
getting married in three days you might as well relax until Bethany’s
parents get here,” she’d said, “because you won’t be able to afterwards.”

“By the way,” Clark said, turning down the sound, “Perry passed some
interesting news to me. Jimmy and Henderson really came through for us.”

"Oh?" Lois tried to straighten up but found herself held firmly in place
by two immovable arms. After a moment she gave up the fight and snuggled
back against his chest. Clark tucked her head under his chin and they
watched the silent pictures on the screen. The scene was currently a
view of the Domino Lake campgrounds as seen from a newscopter. Lois
grimaced at the sight of the large burned areas. Still a great deal more
of the area was untouched by the fire. It was a good thing Clark’s
powers had come back when they did.

“Yeah,” Clark said. “Things have been happening in Metropolis while
we’ve been vacationing out here in the peaceful Midwest.”

The irony wasn’t lost on Lois. "What happened?" she asked.

"You really want to know?"

She could hear the amusement in his voice. Clark was enjoying knowing
something that she didn't. Well, super strength or not, he wasn’t going
to get away with that. "Clark Kent, you tell me right now or you're
going to sleep on the couch *after* we're married, too!"

"Okay," he conceded. "A couple of things have happened, actually.
Somebody tried to steal Luthor’s body from the morgue --“

“Ugh! Who?”

“Luthor’s doctor. Henderson got a tip about it from somebody named
Bobby, set a guard and caught the thieves red-handed.”

“That’s really weird,” Lois said. “What’s the other thing? You said
there was more than one.”

Clark nodded. “You remember how Perry was complaining the other day
about Mr. Stern saddling him with a staff psychiatrist?"

"Yeah. He said she's the one who writes that syndicated column that's in
half the papers in the country. 'Psychiatry Self Taught' or something.
I've never read it."

"Actually it's called 'Healing the Inner Self," Clark said. "Her name's
Arianna Carlin. Anyway, Perry sent the new guy -- Ralph something -- to
the reading of Luthor’s will. It turned out that a big chunk of Luthor's
assets were to go to an ACL Corporation which was supposed to administer
the annuity for Luthor's ex-wife, so you, Perry, Jimmy and Henderson
were all on the right track. There was a former wife. With that as a
clue, Jimmy did some digging through the public records and found out
that -- through various trusts and dummy companies -- ACL corporation
now has actual control of the majority of Luthor's assets, minus what
you inherit, of course, and the previous Mrs. Luthor is now the de-facto
head of LexCorp, so she's definitely a front runner candidate for
whoever it is that wants you dead."

"Why doesn't this surprise me," Lois said. "What else?"

"Well, once he knew that, he started looking in the fine print and
discovered that ACL stood for Arianna Carlin Luthor. She's 'The Mrs.' --
or so Henderson thinks."

“A shrink?” Lois said, almost outraged. “He married a shrink before me?”

“Apparently so,” Clark said.

"So what are they doing about it? The former Mrs. Luthor working in our
office can’t be good.”

"There was a plastic surgeon murdered a few days ago in Metropolis,”
Clark said. “Perry says he'd recently been paid a very large sum of
money by ACL Corporation. Henderson's investigating that angle. Anyway,
Perry's keeping Arianna on the staff so he can watch her. Sooner or
later, she'll slip."

"Yeah," Lois said wistfully. "I wish we could go back and start
investigating it too."

"We can -- in another three weeks," Clark reassured her. "Once the
thirty days is up. Remember, this is LexCorp. All its secrets aren't
going to come out at once. Investigators are still going to be tracking
down the answers to some of the questions for years to come."

"That's for sure," Lois said. "LexCorp has more arms than an octopus."

"Shh, listen." Clark turned up the volume on the television again. He
must have picked up the sound with that incredible hearing of his, Lois
thought.

"-- Discovered a body in the ashes of the fire," the announcer was
saying. "The victim was burned beyond recognition, however, today the
authorities have announced that, using dental records, the remains have
been identified as belonging to David Ferdinand Waters, who was wanted
in connection with the kidnapping of Bethany Ann Gordon."

Clark sighed. "I should have tried to stop him," he said.

"Waters?"

"Yeah. When I was trying to find you -- after the fire had started -- he
ran past me. I knew the trail was blocked. He must have gotten turned
around and been trapped."

Lois shook her head. "He made his bed. You can't do everything. You may
be Superman, but you're still just a man. You already had your hands
full. Besides, he was probably already dead by the time your powers came
back."

He nodded reluctantly. “I know. Still, I wish I could have done something.”

She put her fingers across his lips. “It’s over,” she said. “No more
what ifs. Remember, we’re getting married in three days.”

“How could I forget?” Clark said. “I’m counting the minutes.”

**********

In was just before noon when a squad car pulled up in front of the Kent
farmhouse, accompanied by a swarm of civilian cars, no doubt carrying
members of the media in full cry after the Bethany Gordon story. Lois
and Clark were sitting in the farmhouse's kitchen, having coffee, while
Bethany helped Martha Kent to prepare an apple pie. Jonathan Kent was
leaning against the doorframe, also drinking coffee. Clark cocked his
head at the sound of numerous automobile engines converging on them and
then cutting off directly in front of the house. "It looks like Rachel's
here with Bethany's parents. And most of the media in the country," he
added, getting up to look out the window. "It's a good thing we phoned
in the story to the Planet last night. We beat them all to the punch."

“Perry was pretty happy,” Lois said. “When I called him back a little
while ago, he told me to tell you that we've both got bonuses coming
when we get back to the Planet." She grinned happily at her partner.
"That'll show those so-called journalists at the Star that they can't
compete with us."

Clark met her grin with one of his own. It looked to him as if Lois had
finally managed to put the Luthor fiasco behind her. Any so-called
journalist who tried to push Mad Dog Lane around was in for a surprise.

Martha removed her apron and laid it over the back of a chair as the
front door's knocker sounded. “Here we go. Everybody ready?”

There were nods all around. Lois stood up and took Bethany by the hand.
“Let’s go see your mom and dad,” she said. “Just don’t worry about all
the newspaper people. They’ll behave themselves or we’ll know the reason
why.”

The knock sounded a second time as Martha reached for the doorknob and
pulled the door open.

A man and a woman stood there, and directly behind them, Rachel Harris,
Greg Ross and an unidentified man, whose bearing said “family lawyer”.
Bethany let go of Lois’s hand and ran forward to throw herself into her
mother’s arms.

The assembled press surged forward and flash bulbs went off. Rachel
turned, frowning at the crowd. “I told you ahead of time to stay back,”
she said. “Bethany has had a very difficult time. There’ll be
opportunities for photos later. *If* Bethany’s lawyer okays it.”

“Come on inside,” Martha said in a low voice. She opened the door wider
to let them in.

Somebody shouted, “Hey! Why are Lane and Kent in there?”

The door closed, cutting off the reply but Clark heard it and rigorously
repressed the urge to laugh. “Because that’s his parents’ house, you idiot.”

“What are you grinning about?” Lois’s voice said softly in his ear.

“Tell you later,” Clark answered. He glanced over his glasses through
the wood of the door, to see that several deputies had moved to prevent
the press from crowding up onto the porch. One of them was firmly
ordering an over-eager news hawk to remove his feet from Martha Kent’s
flower bed.

Bethany Gordon’s father turned to him and extended a hand. “Mr. Kent? I
want to thank you and Ms. Lane for rescuing my daughter. From what
Sheriff Harris told us, she wouldn’t have survived if it hadn’t been for
you.”

Clark drew Lois forward. “Here’s the one you should thank, sir,” he
said. “She was the one who took Bethany away from Waters. All I did was
get us to the lake in one piece.”

Bethany broke in. “She hit David with a big club,” she said gravely.
“She knocked him down and told me to get behind her.” The child’s eyes
shone with admiration for her new idol. “When I grow up,” she said, “I’m
going to be two things.”

“What are they, honey?” her mother asked. She was seated on the Kent
sofa with Bethany in her lap and Clark could see that she was holding
back tears.

“A sheriff *and* a reporter,” Bethany said firmly.

**********

Epilogue

The small church where Martha and Jonathan Kent attended services every
Sunday held a group of persons all in their Sunday best that Thursday
afternoon. Rachel Harris sighed resignedly as she and Greg Ross stepped
through the doors and found a seat in the row directly behind the Kents.
She should have known that Clark was completely head over heels in love
with his partner the first time they had come to Smallville, months ago.

Several of Clark’s friends from school, both male and female, had come
to attend the small wedding as had a number of older persons who had
known him as a child growing up in Smallville. She spotted Wayne Irig,
among the guests and Maisie Allen as well. It was amazing, Rachel
thought, how Martha had managed to get this thing put together in three
days. She had even enlisted the assistance of Superman, who was a friend
of Clark and Lois in Metropolis, to bring in guests from several fairly
distant places. The distinguished older man and woman in the seats
across the aisle were Clark’s editor at the Daily Planet and his wife.
The young, good-looking guy was some kind of general handyman for the
newspaper and had apparently been appointed official photographer for
this event. The young kid next to him had been introduced earlier to her
as “Jack”. She hadn’t caught the last name, but she’d quickly checked
her jewelry after they shook hands to be certain it was all still there.
The tall, dark guy with the dark glasses was Inspector William Henderson
from Metropolis, with whom she had spoken several days before, and the
pretty, dark haired girl seated next to him was Lois Lane’s younger
sister. Martha Kent had dithered a little -- something that surprised
Rachel -- over the protocol for Lois Lane’s mother and father. Dr. and
Mrs. Lane were apparently divorced, but she had decided finally that,
since this was about their daughter’s wedding and not their personal
differences, they would be seated in the front row in the place for the
bride’s parents. Hopefully they would keep their disagreements for
another place and time and not air them at the wedding. Dr. Lane, of
course, wasn’t there at the moment since he was getting ready to escort
his daughter down the aisle.

On the other hand, she knew exactly how they had kept this event from
the knowledge of the media, as she had helped with the conspiracy. The
whole thing had been planned in secret, and Superman had even flown the
happy couple away from the Kent farmhouse the night before, and returned
to ferry Clark’s parents away as well this morning, in such a way that
the reporters parked at their front gate were unable to follow. They had
changed clothing at Rachel’s home and driven over to the church in
Greg’s old pickup truck. Reverend Sweet and his wife, who was the church
organist, had been sworn to secrecy as well, and, since the reporters
had no interest in a small town clergyman, they had driven quite openly
to the church. By the time the press found out what had been pulled off
under their noses, it would be too late.

Claudia Sweet entered quietly from a side door and took her seat at the
organ. The influx of occasional latecomers into the church had finally
ceased, she saw and now the music began. Up near the altar, she saw
Clark enter, looking incredibly handsome in his black suit. Pete Ross
had apparently been induced to take a day off from his duties at the
state capitol, for that was unquestionably him, standing up there with
Clark.

The music changed and Rachel glanced back to see her ten year old cousin
advancing down the aisle. The doors opened again and Lois emerged in a
simple, lace gown that Martha had whipped together in record time,
accompanied by a tall, white-haired man who must be Dr. Sam Lane.

Seated in the place for the groom’s parents, Martha Kent surreptitiously
lifted her handkerchief to her eyes. Rachel sighed again, a little
wistfully. If she’d been a little more determined, that could be her
walking down that aisle instead of Lois, but it had already been too
late months ago when Lois Lane had first visited Smallville. She should
have seen it at the time, she thought again. Oh well. Ifs were
could-have-beens that weren’t important anymore. Besides, Clark was a
reporter and she was a law enforcement officer. It probably would never
have worked out. Clark would always be her friend, but Dan Wilson had
asked her to be his date for the Smallville Rodeo, a few weeks ago, and
she’d told him she’d let him know. Well, she would now. He was a nice
guy, and he understood what her job entailed far better than Clark
probably could, she thought. She and Dan would go and have a good time.

**********

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Lois Lane had heard those same words a little over a week ago in a
completely different way. Then she had been marrying a man she didn’t
love, for reasons that had nothing to do with love. She had heard them
with a sense of loss, followed swiftly by panic and the knowledge that
she had made the worst mistake of her life. How much difference that
week had made.

Then she had dutifully let Lex kiss her and stumbled forward into a
future that she dreaded, knowing that she had finally taken one step too
far, had jumped into the shallow end of the pool head first and
discovered halfway down that there was no water in it.

This time when her groom peeled back the modest lace veil loaned to her
by Martha Kent she had no hesitation. As Clark leaned forward to kiss
her, she flung her arms around him and kissed him back with all the love
that had been growing in her heart for him since the day she had walked
into Perry’s office and seen him interviewing for his job. She’d brushed
him aside as unimportant, fixated completely on her potential story. But
he had noticed her and from that day, she thought, her future had been
determined. How she could have failed to realize that he was the man
with whom she was meant to spend her life she couldn’t understand now.

Reverend Sweet was smiling benignly at them when they drew apart and
gently turned them to face their families and friends.

“I present to you,” he said, “Mr. And Mrs. Clark Kent.”

The End

This is just a bit of fluff that I thought up after Home: Vendetta,
which didn't quite fit in with the tempo of the other story, so I just
decided to write it as a vignette. I thought the blossoming romance
between Velma Chow and Oliver Brent ought to be followed up just a
little. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Any familiar characters or settings of this story are the
property of DC Comics, Warner Bros, December 3rd Productions et al. The
story is copyrighted to me.

Home: Family Party 1/1
by Nan Smith

Seated at the picnic table in the rear of John Olsen's home, Velma Chow
worked on a chicken leg and looked around at the mob of people, mostly
members of the Superman family as she had begun to privately call them.

Oliver Brent, whom she had now known for a total of five days, was
seated next to her and as she watched he heaped someone's homemade
potato salad onto his plate.

"I'm going to have to work out for a week to burn this meal off," he
remarked, "but it's worth it."

Velma had to agree. She had never seen a family event like this one. The
members of the Superman clan had come in from around the world and it
was obvious that this was not an unusual occasion for them. In spite of
the fact that many of its members resided in widely flung corners of the
globe, they had come to the family barbecue to celebrate the birth of
Lori Lyons' baby girl. Lori Lyons, who was Superman's wife.

She was beginning to absorb the fact, finally, as she watched them
together. Lori had finished eating and was feeding her obviously
ravenous baby -- a baby that would grow up into a super-powered woman.
The daughter of Superman.

She looked back at Oliver, who was watching her. "Feeling better?" he asked.

Velma nodded. When he had invited her to come to this event as his date,
she had felt a little like an intruder into the family's very private
social occasion but the friendliness of everyone had put her at her
ease, if not quite at once then within a short time of her arrival.
Oliver Brent's family had a great many members and not all of them were
super-powered. In fact, most were not, although, considering that a
large number of the "normal" ones weren't normal at all, she wasn't sure
you could say that the super-powered ones were in the minority. Many of
them had inherited the Kryptonian telepathic ability and could converse
silently with each other, as both Oliver Brent and John Olsen had
demonstrated for her a few days ago. And, of course, then she had met
Oliver's three sisters, Lisa, Jacqueline and Alice Brent, who were
respectively Falcon, Sparrow Hawk and Nova in their own cities. Once
he'd introduced them, she'd adapted pretty quickly to the idea but she'd
noticed that Oliver looked older than his three super-powered sisters.
She'd met John Olsen's siblings and had noted the same phenomenon. No
one had explained, of course. It interested her and it might be a secret
almost as hot as the one that Superman had revealed to her five days
ago. If things worked out, Velma had a strong suspicion that sooner or
later she was going to find out. She and Oliver had gone to dinner twice
since their first meeting, and then he had asked her to the family
barbecue. She'd been a little doubtful at first but Oliver had assured
her that she would be welcome, and so she'd accepted...

**********

One hour ago:

Velma Chow and Oliver Brent walked up the broad, curving path to the
home belonging to John Olsen, the Managing Editor of the Daily Planet.
She glanced uncertainly at her companion. "I'm not so sure about this,"
she told him. "What's your family going to think of you, bringing me to
a party like this?"

Oliver grinned. "They'll be saying, 'Wow, Oliver's bringing a date? I
thought he was a confirmed bachelor.' I can just about hear it now."

Velma couldn't help but echo the grin. "That's your reputation?"

"Yeah," Oliver admitted. "It'll be fine. You'll see."

She laughed. "You should hear what the others are saying about me at the
Precinct."

"I can guess. The only known quantity that moves faster than light is
the office grapevine."

"That's for sure," Velma said. The funny thing was that she didn't care.
The days since she had met Oliver had been astonishing and the happiest
in her life for a long time. For one thing, Oliver had made no secret of
the fact that he very much liked her company, and her cynical view of
life seemed to be undergoing a sudden and dramatic change. The reason
was Oliver Brent, she knew. Being with him made her want to smile and
enjoy life once more. Maybe she'd just been a cop too long, she
rationalized. Still, she'd been one for a large chunk of her life. She
hadn't had much of a social life for a long time and had never been much
of a social butterfly. Still, it was too bad Oliver didn't work in
Metropolis, she thought. That was mitigated by the fact that most of the
time he could hitch a faster-than-shuttle flight with one of his
super-powered relatives and be in Metropolis within minutes. He'd spent
a lot of time in Metropolis in the last few days.

They mounted the steps and Oliver rang the bell. The door swung open
almost at once and the tiny, dark-haired woman standing in the entrance
said, "Come on in. How are you these days, Oliver? You missed the last
barbecue *and* the Christmas party!"

"It's nice to see you, too, Marilyn," Oliver said blandly. "I'm fine.
This is Velma Chow. Velma, Marilyn Olsen, John's wife."

Velma found herself being candidly appraised. Marilyn Olsen smiled
suddenly. "So, you're Lieutenant Chow. John's told me a lot about you.
Come on in."

Velma resisted the impulse to raise her brows. Marilyn Olsen didn't
sound a bit like a society hostess. She entered the house ahead of Oliver.

John Olsen's home was a nice one, she saw, spacious and quietly elegant,
and at the moment it was full of people. She could hear the sound of
dozens of voices coming from the living room, and she consciously
bolstered her courage. Normally when she walked into homes like this it
was as Lieutenant Chow of the Metropolis Police Department, not as a
guest. It left her feeling very uncertain.

Oliver smiled reassuringly at her. "It'll be all right," he said. "Come
on in and meet my family."

His family -- the family that had resulted from the marriage of the
first Superman to an Earth woman. Velma swallowed and stood up a little
straighter. She had already met some of the people who were bound to be
here, she reminded herself sternly, if only in their other identities.
Clark Kent was the civilian identity of Superman, and Dr. Klein, Lori's
obstetrician, the civilian identity of Ultra Woman, so it followed that
the other supermen had civilian identities as well. The thought that one
of the world's super heroes was actually a physician was a startling
concept. It must mean something that the Superman family was willing to
let her in on this very big secret, so perhaps she wouldn't find herself
as out of place as she feared.

"Hey, Velma!" A tall, dark-haired man that she judged to be in his late
twenties, and whom she had never seen before in her life, had appeared
in the entranceway of the living room, a can of beer in one hand and a
big smile on his face. "Come on in and be introduced! Hey there, Oliver!
Nice to see you again."

"Hi, Aaron. From the look on her face, I don't think Velma recognizes you."

"That's probably a good thing," Aaron said. He held out his hand. "Aaron
Olsen, Lieutenant. John's brother." He reached up to sweep the hair back
from his forehead. "Does this ring a bell?"

"Blue Lightning?" she said, identifying him belatedly. She found herself
shaking the hand of one of Metropolis's superheroes, with whom she had
worked many times. "You're John's brother?"

"Right on the first guess," Aaron Olsen said. He stood aside to let her
enter the living room. "Come on in. There's a lot of people who want to
meet you."

She paused in the entrance, unexpectedly intimidated by the crowd of
people in the big room. It seemed as if all of them had stopped whatever
they were doing to look at her. Marilyn Olsen stepped into the room and
held up a hand. "For those that don't know, this is Velma Chow. She's a
police lieutenant here in Metropolis, and was coordinating the effort to
find Lori a few days ago."

A vaguely familiar man, tall, dark and handsome, as seemed to be the
rule for the majority of males in this group, got to his feet from his
position on the carpet, from which he had been watching a baseball game
on the wall-sized vid screen. "Hi, Velma."

Well, he seemed to recognize her, she thought, and surveyed him
appraisingly. He grinned and waited while she did so. After a long
moment, she was able to put a name to him. "Tan-El, right?"

"That's right," he agreed, "but right now I'm CJ Kent. We'll be having a
couple of guests arriving a little later that don't know the family
secret, so be careful." He turned his head. "Ah, there she is." He
indicated a tiny, dark-haired woman who had just entered the room from
what must be the kitchen. With a sense of surprise, she recognized
Superwoman. "This is Lara Kent, my sister, and this --" he nudged
another man, this one with reddish-brown hair who was grinning up at her
from the rug, "is Henry Olsen. The kid over there --" He gestured
casually to a handsome youth of about nineteen or twenty, "...Is Kamil
Hamid. He's been a medical student at NTSU since January. You've worked
with all of us at one time or another."

Metropolis's other superheroes, she thought. In their civilian guise she
could have passed them on the street and not recognized them. Now she
had the explanation for Typhoon's sudden relocation to Metropolis. The
young superhero was going to college. How many others in this room were
the super-powered humans that protected the planet? She looked around,
trying to identify faces.

Well, that had to be Titan. Now that she knew more of what to look for,
there was no mistaking the impressive superhero from Tanzanika who was
nodding at her from his spot on the sofa. An exotic dark-skinned beauty
was seated next to him and Velma noted the wedding set on her left hand.
So, Titan was married! That would break the hearts of millions of women,
if they knew, she thought with amusement. As a matter of fact, it would
do the same if anyone were to discover that same fact about Superman.
And over there -- could that be the Blue Djinn? There were so many
people that it was going to be hard remembering them all.

Marilyn Olsen laughed. "Introduce her around," she told Oliver. "I have
to get back to directing operations around here."

"I'll introduce you to as many as I can," Oliver said with a smile, as
their hostess made her way across the living room. "Don't worry. Nobody
expects you to be able to remember all the names. First let's go pick up
something to drink in the kitchen."

Velma trailed him across the room. Many of the faces in the crowd were
smiling at her in a friendly way, and she found herself relaxing.

In the hallway beyond the door on the other side of the living room, she
found Lori Lyons, talking to a young man of about seventeen or so.
Lori's face broke into a smile when she saw Velma. "Hi, Velma! Welcome
to the party. Hello, Oliver."

Naturally Lori would know Oliver, she thought. Lori was indicating the
teenager. "This is Barry Kent. Barry, I don't think you got to meet
Lieutenant Chow at the Christmas party. Barry was one of the guys that
helped take out the home invaders."

"Glad to meet you," Velma said. "That was a good job you did." She
studied Barry Kent. For all his youth, he had a build that most teenage
males would kill for. Ten to one this one would be flying around the
skies of his home city, wherever that was, in a couple of years.

"Thanks," Barry said, moving politely aside to let her pass. "Hi, Oliver."

"Hi, yourself," Oliver said. "How's life treating you these days?"

"Pretty good. I graduated from West Valley High in June and I'm starting
college in the fall."

"What's your major?" Oliver inquired.

"Pre-med," Barry said.

"Great," Oliver said. "We can use a few more doctors in this batch."

The boy nodded. "Dad wanted me to go into Engineering like him, but I've
wanted to be a doctor since I was six." He grinned. "Matt can be the
engineer if he wants. And Uma says she's going to business school." He
shrugged with big brotherly skepticism. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Velma saw Lori hide a smile.

"Where's your baby?" she inquired.

"Sleeping," Lori said. "I think my mother has her right now, or Marcy
might -- Marcy's my sister," she added. "Come on into the kitchen.
There's sodas and stuff in there. Clark's in the back yard, getting one
of the grills ready. He's got the hot dog detail this afternoon. We'll
be eating lunch in a little while and then we'll be heading down to the
ocean for the beach party." She beckoned and led the way into the kitchen.

Velma and Oliver followed.

There were several women in the kitchen. Mariann Lyons, whom she had met
when Lori had still been at the hospital, was sitting at a big kitchen
table, holding Lori's baby in her arms. Lara Kent looked around with a
welcoming smile. "Hi, Velma." She turned to the others in her group.
"This is Velma Chow, everybody. Velma, these are Rhonda Klein, Ann Kent,
who has the dubious honor of being my sister, Carrie Olsen, who happens
to be John's baby sister, Michelle and Lena Olsen and Lucy Frazier. And
this," she added, indicating the tall, stunning blond woman who had just
entered through the opposite door, "is Marcy Kent, Lori's big sister."

Velma was trying to mentally file all the names and tie them to faces,
but Rhonda Klein laughed. "Don't worry about it," she advised. "If you
come to many more of these things, you'll eventually start to remember
who's who. And if you can't, just ask." She turned to Oliver. "The sodas
are in that chest, the beer is in that one and there's wine coolers in
the third. Help yourselves."

Lara turned her head. "Jon says he's got his two grills going. Somebody
tell CJ to get out there and start grilling the chicken."

"I'll tell him." Lucy Frazier squeezed past Oliver and a few seconds
later Velma heard her voice over the chatter of many voices and the
cheers of the crowd from the vidscreen. "CJ, Jon says to get yourself
out there right now and take over your grill!"

"Okay, okay," Tan-El's voice responded. "I'll be right there."

Another tall, brown-eyed man, who closely resembled Clark Kent, stuck
his head in the opposite door. "Rob says his grill is ready. Where are
the hamburger patties?"

"I'll get them," Carrie Olsen said. She turned to rummage in the big
stasis unit on the wall behind her and withdrew a moment later, hefting
a large, flat box. "Here you go."

"That's Ryan Kent," Oliver told her in an aside. "I think he's my second
or third cousin."

There was something familiar about Ryan Kent besides his resemblance to
Clark Kent, Velma thought. Chances were that he was one of the superheroes.

Ryan took the box of hamburger patties and spoke to someone behind him.
"Just a minute, Sport. I promise I'll give you that ride in a little
while, all right ...?" His words grew fainter as he left the kitchen,
trailed, Velma saw now, by a blond little boy somewhere around the age
of two.

"Ryan is Marcy's husband," Lori said softly. "The little guy is their
son, Robbie."

"Who is he?" Velma asked. "I'm sure I recognize him from somewhere."

"You probably do," Oliver said. "He's the Black Raptor."

The superhero from New York. Velma glanced back at Marcy Kent, who was
appropriating a soda from the ice chest. "Your sister doesn't look much
like you."

"I know," Lori said. "She takes after Mom. I look more like my dad."

Marcy straightened up, popping the top of the grape soda that she had
acquired. Casually, she brushed a lock of shining golden hair back from
her shoulder and Velma was stuck by a sense of familiarity. "Surely she
doesn't have super-powers? She looks familiar."

"She should," Oliver said. "You see her in the fashion mags all the
time. She's a super model."

The light dawned. "Marcy *Lyons*?"

Lori nodded. "That's her professional name," she said. "The rest of the
time she's Marcy Kent."

"Are my ears burning?" Marcy asked, glancing around.

"Probably," Lori said with a grin. "This is Velma Chow. Velma, my big
sister, Marcy. Velma was coordinating the search for me the other day."

Marcy's face lit up in the familiar dazzling smile that Velma had seen
on magazine covers. "*You're* Lieutenant Chow? CJ was telling me about
you!" Velma found Lori's sister grasping both her hands. "I'm *very*
happy to meet you!"

Much to her surprise, Velma felt herself blushing. "You're welcome, Ms.
Lyons," she almost stammered and Oliver squeezed her arm lightly.

"Call me Marcy," Marcy told her. "Why don't you and Oliver get something
to drink and then come out back and sit in the fresh air? There's plenty
of people who will want to meet you."

Oliver had gone to rummage in one of the ice chests. Marilyn Olsen was
assembling some kind of salad, but at this point she glanced over her
shoulder. "Carrie, will you take the ice chests outside for the people
out there?"

"Sure." John Olsen's sister was a very pretty woman with reddish-blond
hair and blue eyes. She resembled her brother in her facial bone
structure, Velma noted, but her coloring was that of a strawberry blond.
She casually stacked the three ice chests one atop the other, lifted
them easily to balance on one hand and turned toward the door. "Could
somebody get the door, please?"

Velma determinedly kept herself from staring at the unconscious display
of power. Carrie Olsen, like her brother Aaron, was super-powered.
Oliver pushed open the door and Carrie went out, carrying the ice
chests. Marcy Kent followed and after a moment, Velma did as well.
Oliver and Lori brought up the rear.

Several barbecue grills had been set up in the back yard and Velma saw
that a brick barbecue pit was only one of a number of grills, some
powered and some utilizing charcoal, that were set up in a roughly
circular pattern around it. Clark Kent, wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a
chef's apron and hat, was expertly grilling hot dogs over the flames of
one. Several other men were engaged in similar tasks. Oliver handed her
a soda and gestured to a spot where a dozen or so lawn chairs were set
up in the shade of a large tree. "Let's sit down and relax. The wind's
blowing the other way, so we won't get charcoal smoke in our faces." He
nodded toward the grills. "Grilling is men's territory. It's an old
family tradition."

"Do you grill?" Velma couldn't resist asking.

"Sometimes," Oliver said. "Not today. I've got a more important project
in mind."

"What's that?"

"Entertaining you," Oliver said innocently. "You're going to let me use
you as an excuse, aren't you?"

Velma fought the urge to giggle self-consciously and settled for a laugh
instead. "Sure. I'll be your excuse."

"Good." He led the way to the chairs and let her choose before taking
one beside her. "So, do you approve of my family so far?"

"I'm still making up my mind," Velma told him. "All these celebrities --
it's a recipe for trouble. You know how they're always making the news
these days. You can't turn around without finding some vid star in rehab
for some problem or other."

"True," Oliver said, straight-faced. "Still, we've only got one vid star
in the group and she's very well adjusted."

"Oh? Who would that be?"

"Ann Kent," Oliver told her. "Lara's sister. You met her in the kitchen,
sort of in passing. Her stage name is Annabelle Reyes -- I'm sure you've
heard of her."

"Really?" Velma said.

"Oh, sure. Don't let her official biography fool you, though. Annie's a
happily married woman. The guy over there doing the barbecued wings is
her husband, George."

Velma glanced in the direction of one of the grills where a somewhat
older man was splashing barbecue sauce liberally over several rows of
chicken wings spread out before him. Clouds of white smoke filled the
air. "So is she super-powered or a telepath or just ordinary, like me?"

Oliver's face turned serious. "She goes by the name Shooting Star -- and
she's a telepath, too. But Vel --" He paused and Velma thought he was
selecting his words carefully. "You're anything but ordinary."

Velma felt heat flooding her face. She focused on her hands where they
lay folded in her lap. She could deal with the abuse shouted at her by
the criminals she caught and with the sarcasm of defense lawyers who
tried to trip her up on the witness stand as they endeavored to find a
way to save their guilty clients from justice but it was a long time
since someone had given her an honest and direct compliment. How was she
supposed to answer?

"Don't try to flatter me," she said finally. "I'm nothing special."

Oliver was silent for a moment. "Why do you say that?" he finally asked.
"I've spoken to your co-workers. They have a lot of respect for you.
Clark would never have told you what he did if he didn't respect and
trust you. John Olsen does, too. And so do I."

Velma looked up at him. Oliver was watching her soberly and the look in
his eyes was one that she had never seen before -- at least turned on
her. "I'm a forty year old cop," she said. "That's all I've ever been or
will ever be. I wanted to make a difference. But so have a million other
cops."

Oliver's hand slipped over hers. "Suppose that's all true. That doesn't
mean you're ordinary." He hesitated. "I told you what people would say
when I brought a date to the barbecue. Do you know why?"

"You're a confirmed bachelor?"

"Not really. But I'm part Kryptonian. Superman was my great grandfather.
He was twenty-seven when he met Lois Lane -- an investigative journalist
for the Daily Planet here in Metropolis. You read about her in school.
The reporter who first met Superman. She was part of the reporting team
of Lane and Kent." He paused significantly. "She was driven, obsessive,
aggressive, and had no time for a greenhorn partner. For him it was love
at first sight but it took him nearly two years to get her to realize
that he was the right man for her." He smiled ruefully. "My great
grandmother is a family legend. She was constantly escaping death by a
hair. She nearly gave him heart failure more times than you can imagine
because of the things she did -- but she was the only woman on Earth
that he wanted."

"What was so special about her?"

"The Kryptonian telepathic bond," Oliver said quietly. "When a telepath
meets his -- or her -- soul mate, it happens. It happened to Clark Kent,
over a hundred years ago. It happened to me for the first time in my
life when I met you."

She stared at him, her heart pounding so hard that it threatened to
suffocate her. "*Me?*"

He nodded slowly. "Do you mind?"

Numbly she shook her head. "No. Why should I mind?"

"Well, I was afraid it might scare you a little."

She could feel her face growing warm again. What was the matter with
her, anyway? "Just as long as you don't expect me to rush off with you
to Las Vegas right after the party."

He grinned faintly. "I don't -- but I'd like it if you and I could --
well -- date for a while and see how things work out."

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. She'd heard about
Superman's bond with Lori Lyons and wondered how such a thing would feel
-- and it had happened to her that very day. She had been attracted to
Oliver Brent from the beginning and the idea wasn't repugnant to her by
a long shot. If she threw it away she could truly call herself a fool.
Didn't she owe it to both of them to give it a chance?

"I think I'd like that," she said slowly.

"So would I," Oliver said.

**********

Lori stepped out of the cloud of charcoal and hot dog scented smoke and
poked her husband in the ribs. "So, what's going on?" she asked.

"I'm cooking hot dogs," Clark said. He turned a hot dog carefully with
the tongs, making sure that the dog was evenly heated on all sides.
"We'll be ready for the mob in a few minutes."

"I know that, and so does Marilyn," Lori said. "I meant what's going on
with Oliver and Velma?"

"You know I don't listen in on private conversations," Clark told her
reprovingly but Lori saw the corners of his mouth twitch. He often did
things like that that told her he wasn't as serious as he was trying to
look. "They're having a private conversation. It's none of my business.
Or yours," he added pointedly.

"Yes?" she asked with false affability. "How would you know it's a
private conversation if you aren't listening?"

"Because of the way he's holding her hand," Clark said. "And don't tell
me you didn't notice."

"Of course I did," Lori said. "That was why I asked."

Again the faint quiver at the corners of his mouth. "What are you
laughing about?" she demanded.

"I'm not laughing," Clark said innocently.

"Yes you are. Come on, Superman, give!" she said. "It's not as if I'm
going to tell anybody, after all. I'm just curious. Besides, it's a
reporter's business to strip away --"

"'--The veil of secrecy and reveal the naked truth,'" Clark said. "But
only in cases of wrongdoing and you know it, Ms. Lyons. This is Oliver
and Velma's personal business."

"Oh come on, Clark," she said. "You know I'm not going to tell anybody.
I just --"

He grinned and relented slightly. "Well, let's say we might have a new
granddaughter-in-law in a few months. But if you let on to anybody that
I told you, I'll deny I said anything."

Lori glanced at Oliver, who was leaning toward Velma and holding one of
her hands between both of his. "I could have told you that, Superman,"
she said, but she was smiling. "And I can't super-hear a thing."

"Neither did I," Clark said. "But if I couldn't read the signs by this
time I'd be in real trouble, wouldn't I?"

"I guess," Lori said. "I suppose I can forgive you just this once."

"That's a relief," Clark said. "Even if I don't know what I'm being
forgiven for." He turned his head. "I hear Mary starting to fuss. She
sounds hungry."

"She's always hungry -- or asleep," Lori said. "I'd better go get her."
She cast a last glance at Velma Chow and Oliver. "I get to host the
shower," she added. "And you're the witness that I have first dibs."

The End

Nan,
Thanks for this nice surprise this morning! Keep 'em coming!  :)
--Laurie



************************************** Get a sneak peek of the all-new AOL at
http://discover.aol.com/memed/aolcom30tour


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Yes, me too! I was delighted to see Nans' story this morning.  I hope she will
be inspired
to write more stories in the Home series. I would love to read some maybe set a
few years
down the road, to see how Lori is coping with the large extended family and
possibly more children?
Hopefully,
Patti



----- Original Message -----
From:
To: LCFic@yahoogroups.com
Sent: 7/30/2007 11:23:21 AM
Subject: Re: [LCFic] Home: Family Party 1/1


Nan,
Thanks for this nice surprise this morning! Keep 'em coming! :)
--Laurie

************************************** Get a sneak peek of the all-new AOL at
http://discover.aol.com/memed/aolcom30tour

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]




[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Hi FoLCs!

   Here is the update of new fic (gathered typically through Thursday evening). 
Links on the L&C Message Board Fanfic Index page at
http://www.geocities.com/mb_indices/lnc.html


   New stories:
   If I Could Turn Back Time... by Top Banana
  Reminisces of New Krypton (rewrite of Invasion) by Dandello



   New part(s) posted:
   Invasion by Dandello
  Love Survives by rkn
  Wedding Rearrangement by Nan Smith


   Completed stories:
   If I Could Turn Back Time... by Top Banana
  Wedding Rearrangement by Nan Smith



   New TOCs for Current/Recent Stories:
   None


   New/Revised TOCs for Previously Posted Stories:
   None


   Added to the Archive:
   When Galaxies Divide by StopQuitDont
  Working Dinner by Daisymay390


   Enjoy!
   Dawn & The Crew

---------------------------------
Choose the right car based on your needs.  Check out Yahoo! Autos new Car Finder
tool.

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Hi FoLCs!

   Here is the update of new fic (gathered typically through Thursday evening). 
Links at http://www.geocities.com/mb_indices/mbindex.html


   New stories:
   20-20 Hindsight by Framework4
  Mated Mishap by LaraMoon
  Owls Over Metropolis by Marcus Rowland
  Reminisces of New Krypton (rewrite of Invasion) by Dandello
  Roadkill Reconciliations by Catherine Bruce
  Separate Lives by bakasi
  Teaching Indecency by Laura S.
  What Not to Wear to a Pop-Tart Bonfire by Catherine Bruce
  Witness Protection by Sue S.



   New parts posted:
   Begin the Begin by SamEggert
  Darkest Dreams by SmirkyRavenn
  Exposure by symbolicangel
  Foundations by Caroline K.
  From the Dark by Catherine Bruce
  Game Challenge by Various
  Honeymoon in... Vegas by Sue S.
  House of Cards by MetroRhodes
  Invasion by Dandello
  The Longest Road: The Long Road Home by Raconteur
  Love Survives by rkn
  Remember When It Rained by Anna (aka PrincessAnna)
  Strong by Shayne Terry
  Wedding Rearrangement by Nan Smith


   Completed stories:
   20-20 Hindsight by Framework4
  Honeymoon in... Vegas by Sue S.
  Mated Mishap by LaraMoon
  Owls Over Metropolis by Marcus Rowland
  Remember When It Rained by Anna (aka PrincessAnna)
  Roadkill Reconciliations by Catherine Bruce
  Wedding Rearrangement by Nan Smith
  What Not to Wear to a Pop-Tart Bonfire by Catherine Bruce
  Witness Protection by Sue S.


   New TOCs for Current Stories:
   20-20 Hindsight by Framework4
  Crystal Dreams by Dandello
  Mated Mishap by LaraMoon
  Owls Over Metropolis by Marcus Rowland
  Reminisces of New Krypton (rewrite of Invasion) by Dandello
  Roadkill Reconciliations by Catherine Bruce
  Separate Lives by bakasi
  Teaching Indecency by Laura S.
  What Not to Wear to a Pop-Tart Bonfire by Catherine Bruce
  Witness Protection by Sue S.



   New TOCs for Completed Stories including Comments folders:
   None


   Added to the Archive:
  Gone the Rainbow by Catherine Bruce
  Green, Green Glow of the Arrow by LaraMoon
  In Space, No One Can Hear You... by Terry Leatherwood
  No, In Any Language by Elisabeth
  Sequel to TOGOM by Catherine Bruce
  When Galaxies Divide by StopQuitDont
  Working Dinner by Daisymay390


   Enjoy!
   Dawn & the Index Crew


---------------------------------
Need a vacation? Get great deals to amazing places on Yahoo! Travel.

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Glad you liked it. More Home stories will probably be forthcoming. As
always when I finish a big project like Wedding Rearrangement I tend to
dither around for a while while I search for a new idea. Give me a
little while and I'll start another one. I'm thinking of a sequel to The
Hottest Team in Town, which will hopefully be the end of the Nightfall
series.

Nan

Patti wrote:
>
> Yes, me too! I was delighted to see Nans' story this morning. I hope
> she will be inspired
> to write more stories in the Home series. I would love to read some
> maybe set a few years
> down the road, to see how Lori is coping with the large extended
> family and possibly more children?
> Hopefully,
> Patti
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From:
> To: LCFic@yahoogroups.com <mailto:LCFic%40yahoogroups.com>
> Sent: 7/30/2007 11:23:21 AM
> Subject: Re: [LCFic] Home: Family Party 1/1
>
> Nan,
> Thanks for this nice surprise this morning! Keep 'em coming! :)
> --Laurie
>
> ************************************** Get a sneak peek of the all-new
> AOL at
> http://discover.aol.com/memed/aolcom30tour
> <http://discover.aol.com/memed/aolcom30tour>
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>
>

I'm delighted to hear that Nan. I really did like the Nightfall series so will
look forward to that story.  Oh by the way, my favorite of your series, is the
alternate Clark series, sorry, i can't remember its official title. Anyway, i
hope you will revisit that
series sometime. I really have  enjoyed it the most of all your wonderful fics.
I've lost count of
how many time i have reread those alternate series stories.
Patti


----- Original Message -----
From: Nan Smith
To: LCFic@yahoogroups.com
Sent: 7/31/2007 10:50:14 AM
Subject: Re: [LCFic] Home: Family Party 1/1


Glad you liked it. More Home stories will probably be forthcoming. As
always when I finish a big project like Wedding Rearrangement I tend to
dither around for a while while I search for a new idea. Give me a
little while and I'll start another one. I'm thinking of a sequel to The
Hottest Team in Town, which will hopefully be the end of the Nightfall
series.

Nan

Patti wrote:
>
> Yes, me too! I was delighted to see Nans' story this morning. I hope
> she will be inspired
> to write more stories in the Home series. I would love to read some
> maybe set a few years
> down the road, to see how Lori is coping with the large extended
> family and possibly more children?
> Hopefully,
> Patti
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From:
> To: LCFic@yahoogroups.com <mailto:LCFic%40yahoogroups.com>
> Sent: 7/30/2007 11:23:21 AM
> Subject: Re: [LCFic] Home: Family Party 1/1
>
> Nan,
> Thanks for this nice surprise this morning! Keep 'em coming! :)
> --Laurie
>
> ************************************** Get a sneak peek of the all-new
> AOL at
> http://discover.aol.com/memed/aolcom30tour
> <http://discover.aol.com/memed/aolcom30tour>
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>
>




[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

I love the Home series and was delighted to read this short story
about a cop that has grown on me a lot. Sorry this feedback is short,
but please know the story was a delight.

Back to catering to the needs of a 3 and 7 yr old.....

Jackie
--
Jacalyn S. Newman
jacalynsue@...

While I'm working on my plot for the last story in the Nightfall series,
here's a nice short one to round off the Wedding Series. Don't look for
villains or crises. Just a few little loose ends tied up.

**********

Disclaimer: The familiar characters and settings in this story do not
belong to me. They are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros., December
3rd Productions and whoever else can legally claim them. I have written
this story solely for its entertainment value and am making no profit
from it whatsoever. The story, however, is mine.

**********

Wedding Accomplished
By Nan Smith

The wedding reception that had been hastily arranged by Martha Kent and
several of her friends from the church was a small affair. Wilma Cooper,
owner of the town's oldest bakery, had provided the wedding cake and she
regarded the towering white-frosted confection with tears of pride. Two
ladies from Martha's art class were still fussing over the arrangement
of the flowers at the central table when the sound of the Reverend
Sweet's pickup truck outside alerted them to the fact that the wedding
party was arriving.

Sure enough barely two minutes later the bride, dressed in a lacy swirl
of frothy white, entered on the arm of her groom, followed by the crowd
of chattering guests. Wilma sighed sentimentally at the sight of the
handsome young man. She could remember Clark Kent from the time that he
had been barely tall enough to see over the counter of her bakery - and
before that, really. She still recalled the day when Martha Kent and her
husband had walked proudly into her store with their beautiful baby boy.
She knew that Martha and Jonathan had always wanted a baby. They had
adopted Clark privately, Martha had told her -- there had been some
mention of one of Martha's distant cousins who had died unexpectedly in
some kind of accident, leaving Clark an orphan, and no one questioned
the explanation too closely. Wilma had a cousin of her own whose parents
told exactly the same story -- a polite untruth, she knew, to hide the
illegitimate birth of a baby to some other young female relative by her
embarrassed family. Such a story hadn't been particularly uncommon back
in those days. Wilma knew the rumor had been generally accepted, many
years ago, and she had always regarded the Kents' willingness to give a
home to the innocent result of such an indiscretion to be a very kind
act. She was sure that Martha knew of the rumor, but she hadn't seemed
disturbed by it. That was something that Wilma had always admired about
Martha Kent. She never let the opinions of others bother her.

In any case, that was water over the dam. Clark had been a charming
little boy and later an equally charming teenager. Wilma had often
wished that her two sons would take a page from Clark Kent's book when
it came to behavior, but of course they hadn't. She had seen him often
during his high school years, for he had been a member of Smallville
High's football team and he would frequently stop by her bakery on his
way home after football practice to purchase some dreadfully fattening
treat to tide him over until dinner. She'd fully expected it to go to
his waistline, but obviously her worry had been unnecessary, she
thought, observing Clark Kent's broad shoulders and narrow waist in the
charcoal suit that he had worn for his wedding. Wilma sighed again,
gazing happily at the young couple. Clark's bride was a lucky woman.
Wilma would never criticize her darling husband, but Thomas was
beginning to grow broader across the middle these days, and even in his
youth he had never had a form like Clark Kent's. Thomas's weakness for
chocolate éclairs had finally begun to catch up with him, she knew, but
he continued to believe that the football that he'd played thirty-five
years ago had put him into such shape that he didn't need to worry about
his diet.

Martha Kent caught her eye and the two women managed to make their way
through the small crowd to an empty spot near the back of the room.

"Any sign of those nuisances?" Martha inquired in an undertone.

Wilma giggled. "No," she replied, keeping her voice as soft as Martha's.
"Some new ones showed up this morning in town and were asking for
directions to your place, just as Maureen and I were putting the cake
into the van -- with 'Congratulations Lois and Clark' as plain as day on
the icing. They didn't even notice. I guess they're out there now with
the rest of the mob. How are you ever going to get home?"

Martha chuckled. "Superman promised to drop us off after the wedding. I
figure if they hang around the farm for another day, it'll give Clark
and Lois a good head start. The last thing that they need is the press
following them around on their honeymoon!"

"Oh, I know!" Wilma said. "I read some of the awful things the Dirt
Digger was saying about her. They were being just plain mean!" Wilma
shook her head. "They should be ashamed of themselves. Don't worry," she
added. "If any more reporters ask me anything, I won't know a thing. I
can play the sweet, confused little old lady very well, thank you!"

Both women giggled this time.

"I wonder how long it's going to take these city people to figure out
we're not as stupid as they think," Martha said.

"I don't think they ever will," Wilma said frankly. "I hope most of them
don't, anyway. It's been so much fun sending them out chasing their
tails since they showed up in town."

Martha laughed softly. "Well, after tomorrow they may not stick around
once they realize Lois isn't here anymore." She glanced around. "Where's
our band? They're supposed to be here."

"They're changing clothes in back." Wilma waved to the doors at the rear
of the Community Center. "I guess everybody's about in their places.
It's almost time to cut the cake."

"Ah! There they are," Martha said. "Is the food all set out?"

"The guys from the Korner Kitchen were unloading it a few minutes ago,"
Wilma assured her. "I'm sorry it had to be a buffet, but there wasn't
time for anything else."

"No, it's better this way," Martha said decisively. "Better go sit down.
I think we're about ready to start."

**********

Clark Kent glanced around the room of the old Smallville Community
Center. He'd been here for many local events during his growing years
and now he was here to celebrate his wedding to Lois Lane.

Jonathan Kent escorted them to their places of honor at the head table
and he gazed with almost a sense of unreality at one of Wilma Cooper's
famous wedding cakes. Wilma, as he'd come to know her over the years,
was the kind of cook that gave dietitians and aerobic instructors
nightmares, and the high-caloric creations that emerged from her little
bakery made no pretense of being anything but what they were -- but they
tasted as good as they looked.

"It's a good thing we're going to be getting plenty of exercise," Lois
murmured in his ear. "I've gained five pounds already, just looking at
that cake."

"Don't worry," he said as innocently as he could. "We'll work it all off
-- and then some."

Lois looked sharply at him and then, to his surprise, suddenly giggled
and blushed to her hairline as she belatedly translated his meaning.

Perry White was approaching with a large cake knife in his hands,
decorated with a lacy, white bow. He presented it to Lois. "All right,
folks!" he announced. "It's time for the bride and groom to cut the cake!"

Clark rested his hands on the knife but let Lois guide it. She cut out
two tiny slices, as Jimmy Olsen's camera flashed brightly.

Now came the moment of truth. Did Lois expect him to mash the cake into
her face? He'd seen it done but he certainly had no wish to do the same.
That kind of practical joke on his wedding day wasn't the slightest bit
appealing. Carefully, he took his tiny shred of cake and raised it to
Lois's lips.

She cast him a look of gratitude and opened her mouth to accept the
bite. He saw her eyes open wide as she tasted the cake. Wilma's cakes
never had the "commercial" taste to them of most store-bought cakes. It
had almost seemed to a much younger Clark Kent that they could nearly
have been baked in his mother's oven.

Lois raised a piece of the confection to his lips and he took the bite.

"Thanks," Lois whispered.

"You're welcome," he said softly.

Somewhere in the background someone had started tapping his spoon on the
table and rapidly the sound spread until everyone in the room had joined
in. The guests were demanding that the groom kiss the bride. Clark gave
a bashful grin and obeyed, to the cheers of the assembled crowd. In the
background, the band struck up and he led his bride out onto the floor
for their first dance as a married couple. Somewhere behind them he was
aware that his mother had moved in on the cake and was cutting it into
chunks for their guests. From the rear of the Community Center, he could
smell the aroma of well-prepared food that had certainly come from the
Korner Kitchen. From somewhere, the pop of a champagne cork punctuated
the music. All in all, it was starting off to be a great wedding party.

"How do you like your big day, Mrs. Kent?" he murmured in her ear.

"I'll like it much better when we check into our hotel this evening,"
she whispered back.

A finger tapped Clark on the shoulder. "Do I get to dance with the
bride?" Jonathan Kent's voice asked, sounding amused.

Clark grinned down into his bride's face and surrendered her gracefully
to his father. Ellen Lane was standing a short distance away and Clark
stepped over to her, bowing gracefully. "May I have this dance?" he
asked his new mother-in-law.

Lois's mother nodded, giving a tiny smile and let Clark put his arm
around her waist.

She was surprisingly light on her feet. They danced in silence for a
short time and then Ellen spoke. "I suppose you know what you're letting
yourself in for, Clark."

Clark consciously resisted the impulse to stiffen. "What do you mean?"

"The tabloids," Mrs. Lane specified. "Right now they're excoriating my
daughter as a gold digger. They're claiming that she married Luthor for
his money."

"I know," Clark said. "I hope you believe me when I say that the money
has nothing to do with how I feel about Lois. I loved her long before
this -- situation -- took place. Neither of us has any interest in it --
except that it's nearly gotten Lois killed several times."

Mrs. Lane regarded him neutrally. "I'm not sure I completely believe
that," she said. "How can the money not matter to you?"

"Believe me," Clark said, "Lois and I are perfectly capable of
supporting ourselves. Luthor's money is more trouble than it's worth.
I'm not interested in it and Lois isn't the sort to live behind electric
fences for the rest of her life. We'll be making arrangements to deal
with that situation after the thirty days from the date of Luthor's
death are up."

Mrs. Lane cocked her head at him. "What can you possibly do with it?"
she asked. "It's not as if you can just act as if it doesn't exist."

"We have lawyers working on it," Clark said quietly. "We'll take care of
it later. Right now, Lois and I have just gotten married. I want her to
enjoy her honeymoon without having to worry about other things. And the
last thing I want her to think about is Luthor."

Ellen Lane looked at him curiously but said nothing. When the music
stopped, he bowed slightly to her. "Thank you for the dance."

She smiled faintly. "You're a very good dancer." She paused. "Be good to
Lois," she said finally. "I haven't been the kind of mother she should
have had, but I do want the best for her. I hope you believe that."

"I do," Clark said sincerely. "So do I." He escorted her back to her
seat next to Perry and Alice White and turned to look for his bride.

The band started to play again. Lois and his father were just coming
across the floor toward him when they were intercepted by Sam Lane.
Clark mentally crossed his fingers in the hope that everything would go
well during the dance and headed across the floor toward his mother.

Martha Kent looked up as he bowed formally to her. "May I have this
dance?" he inquired.

His mother got to her feet. "I was wondering when you were going to ask me."

Clark grinned as the band swung into a fast country dance. "Come on,
Mom. Let's show them how it's done."

**********

The wedding party spilled out of the Community Center two hours later,
following Lois and Clark. On the steps of the building, Lois turned her
back and raised the bouquet. There was immediate movement as the younger
women in the party were chivvied toward the front. Lois waited, to give
them time, and then tossed the bouquet over her shoulder.

Clark glanced back and grinned when he saw that the flowers had sailed
slightly to the left and that a surprised Pete Ross was clutching the
tasteful arrangement of Baby's Breath and white roses. Then he opened
the door to Reverend Sweet's pickup truck and gave his bride a hand into
the ancient vehicle.

Moments later, Superman quietly deposited the truck in its parking space
behind Reverend Sweet's home. He leaned in the window of the passenger
side to give his bride a quick kiss. "I'll be back in a few minutes, honey."

Lois turned the quick peck into something more substantial. "Hurry up,
Superman," she told him. "I'm anxious to get on our way."

Clark grinned. "Your wish is my command," he told her. "Give me fifteen
minutes to get everybody back where they belong and we'll go."

**********

It was actually twelve minutes and twenty-three seconds by actual count
when Clark Kent knocked on the window of the pickup truck. Lois opened
the door and stepped quickly out. "Is everyone home?

He nodded. "Yes. I told Bill Henderson that I planned on taking about
four more weeks of rest and recovery time before I made my reappearance
back in Metropolis. I did, however, recover our luggage from the plane."

"Plane?"

"The one we left in the mountains."

"Oh, *that* plane."

"That's right. I figure I'll drop it off at Metro Private Airport
sometime around midnight. That way Perry's friend can have it back. It's
in perfect working condition except for the radio. It's just low on
fuel. I wouldn't want someone who was trying to help us out to have to
absorb a cost like that."

"That's true," Lois said. "What did Bill say?"

"About me coming back? He said it was a good idea. He said he doesn't
want Metropolis to see a sign of Superman until he's fully recovered. I
told him a little more about what Luthor did. Hopefully, it will give
him a little leverage with Luthor's assistants."

"I hope so," Lois said. "Next to us, I trust Henderson more than any
other investigator in Metropolis."

"I guess confidence isn't an issue with you, is it," Clark said. He
smiled widely. "It's good to see the Lois I've always known back." He
pulled her into his arms for a long kiss. "I was worried about you, you
know."

"I know." She put her head on his shoulder. "I *did* doubt myself --
after making such a horrible mistake. You were nearly killed, the Planet
was almost destroyed for good, Jack nearly went to prison -- and Lex
almost had him killed, too. And that was only the part we know about.
Who knows what he had in mind for everyone else?"

"It wasn't your fault," Clark said.

"I know," she said. "*Now* I know. Lex planned the whole thing. He
always got what he wanted, no matter what it took, and he wanted me. I
was a challenge that he couldn't resist. If you want the truth, I think
he preferred to break the law to get what he wanted. I think it gave him
some kind of sick thrill, but that wasn't my fault. It was his."

"Exactly," Clark said.

"In fact," Lois continued, "I was only really at fault one way. I
wouldn't listen to you. I was so determined to be right, to prove that
*my* judgment about men wasn't at fault, that I refused to listen to the
only man I've ever really trusted -- my best friend. That was where I
went wrong."

"I can't really blame you for that," Clark said. "I messed up too, you
know."

"I know," she said. "But if we remember to talk, to really communicate
from now on, and to really listen to each other, I don't think we'll
have too much trouble in the future. Do you?"

"Probably not," Clark said. "At least I have my parents' example to copy."

"So do I," Lois said. "And I have *my* parents' example *not* to copy.
Between both sets of examples, I think we'll do all right."

"So do I," Clark said. He nodded to the rear door of Reverend Sweet's
house. "They're waiting for us inside," he added. "Once we change
clothes, we can really be on our way. We have a honeymoon to begin."

Lois took his hand and started toward the little wooden house. "In that
case, Mr. Kent, let's not keep them waiting."

The End


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Hi FoLCs!

   Here is the update of new fic (gathered typically through Thursday evening). 
Links on the L&C Message Board Fanfic Index page at
http://www.geocities.com/mb_indices/lnc.html


   New stories:
   Angel Found by Dandello
  Home: Family Party by Nan Smith
  I'll Be There by DaisyMay390



   New part(s) posted:
   Reminisces of New Krypton by Dandello


   Completed stories:
   Angel Found by Dandello
  Home: Family Party by Nan Smith



   New TOCs for Current/Recent Stories:
   Reminisces of New Krypton by Dandello


   New/Revised TOCs for Previously Posted Stories:
   None


   Added to the Archive:
   None


   Enjoy!
   Dawn & The Crew

---------------------------------
Be a better Globetrotter. Get better travel answers from someone who knows.
Yahoo! Answers - Check it out.

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Hi FoLCs!

   Here is the update of new fic (gathered typically through Thursday evening). 
Links at http://www.geocities.com/mb_indices/mbindex.html


   New stories:
   Adumbration by Catherine Bruce
  Angel Found by Dandello
  Brainstorming II by Framework4
  Home: Family Party by Nan Smith
  Luthor's Revenge take 2 by Tank Wilson
  Magic 8-Ball or And the Answer Is by JDG
  Untitled (posted under Still Haven't Figured Out a Title) by Mishmishat
  Untitled (posted under First try at fanfic) by Nina6
  Vignette a la Lois by Sammy Sparrow
  Wedding Vows by David
  Witness Protection 2 by Lara Moon and Sue S.



   New parts posted:
   Begin the Begin by SamEggert
  Darkest Dreams by SmirkyRavenn
  Drabble Challenge: #10 Best by Various
  Exposure by symbolicangel
  Foundations by Caroline K.
  House of Cards by MetroRhodes
  I'll Be There by DaisyMay390
  Love Survives by rkn
  Men Of Steele 2 by Henry
  Reminisces of New Krypton by Dandello
  Separate Lives by bakasi
  Strong by Shayne Terry
  Teaching Indecency by Laura S.
  Ten Years in the Making by anonpip


   Completed stories:
   Adumbration by Catherine Bruce
  Angel Found by Dandello
  Brainstorming II by Framework4
  Drabble Challenge: #10 Best by Various
  Home: Family Party by Nan Smith
  House of Cards by MetroRhodes
  Luthor's Revenge take 2 by Tank Wilson
  Magic 8-Ball or And the Answer Is by JDG
  Untitled (posted under First try at fanfic) by Nina6
  Vignette a la Lois by Sammy Sparrow
  Wedding Vows by David
  Witness Protection 2 by Lara Moon and Sue S.


   New TOCs for Current Stories:
   Adumbration by Catherine Bruce
  Angel Found by Dandello
  Brainstorming II by Framework4
  Luthor's Revenge take 2 by Tank Wilson
  Magic 8-Ball or And the Answer Is by JDG
  Untitled (posted under First try at fanfic) by Nina6
  Vignette a la Lois by Sammy Sparrow
  Wedding Vows by David
  Witness Protection 2 by Lara Moon and Sue S.



   New TOCs for Completed Stories including Comments folders:
   None


   Added to the Archive:
  Clark Kent's Biggest and Positively Huge Secret (But Not That One!) by Laura S.
(posted under Clark Kent's Biggest Secret (But Not That One!))
  Desperate Times by ML Thompson
  A Normal Day by Terry Leatherwood 6
  Secret Fears by bakasi (posted under Stony Ways)
  Seeking Heroes by bakasi (posted under Stony Ways)
  Seeking Santa's Presents by bakasi (posted under Santa Conspiracy)
  Serendipitous Infinity by bakasi (posted under Stony Ways)
  Sunday's Gain by bakasi (posted under Stony Ways)
  Sunday's Late Conspiracies by bakasi (posted under Santa Conspiracy)
  When You Can't See the Wood by Doc. Klein's LabRat


   Enjoy!
   Dawn & the Index Crew

---------------------------------
Yahoo! oneSearch: Finally,  mobile search that gives answers, not web links.

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

In response to a request by Ann on the Fanfic MBs, I decided to add this
part to the story. Here you go, Ann. This part is for you.

Wedding Accomplished

Epilogue
by Nan Smith

The sun was shining brightly on that afternoon, four weeks later, when
every newspaper in town, from the Daily Planet to the ones that Lois
candidly appraised as bottom feeders, sent representatives to the news
conference that had been announced by the Chairman of the Superman
Foundation.

There had been rumors flying for a month about the Man of Steel and his
long absence from Metropolis. He had been seen once, four weeks ago, and
it was rumored that he made the occasional appearance at an emergency,
but those incidents were few and far between.

Some said that Superman was suffering from some sort of rare and fatal
Kryptonian disease and had placed himself into voluntary quarantine.
Others held equally unsubstantiated theories but now maybe the
Foundation that had been established in his name was going to shed some
light on the mystery.

Clark Kent circulated among the crowd. He and Lois had returned from
their honeymoon a week and a half ago, and for a week and a half the
tabloids had hyped the story of Lois Lane, gold digger extraordinary,
which they had now revived after several weeks with nothing new to
report. Now they had the added juiciness of Lane's clandestine marriage
to Clark Kent and were playing it for all it was worth. One enterprising
writer had gone so far as to advance the theory that it had always been
a plot between them that Lois should marry Luthor and that somehow Kent
would also profit.

Lane and Kent had refused to answer questions about the whole,
mysterious affair, which sent the tabloids and others not so far removed
from that station, such as -- in Lois Lane's opinion -- the Star, into a
frenzy of speculation, none of it to their credit. But today the local
journalism community was simmering with a new set of rumors about the
upcoming press conference.

"Hey, Kent! You got any idea what this is about?" The question came from
Leo Nunk, whom Lois would have characterized as the bottom feeder of
bottom feeders. Clark resisted the temptation to set the toes of his
shoes on fire and shrugged.

"Thought you and Lois had some kind of in with Supes," Nunk continued.
"Doesn't he give you a heads-up about these things?"

"Nope. I haven't spoken to him in weeks," Clark said truthfully.
"Haven't you consulted Madam Zina or someone about it? I'd think you'd
have the whole story by now." He turned his back on Nunk and began to
work his way toward one side of the crowd, making certain that a number
of other people noticed his presence and ignoring Nunk's
under-the-breath comment concerning his sexual habits.

There was a stir at the podium. Murray Brown, looking very dignified in
his role as the Chairman of the Superman Foundation, climbed the steps
to the stage and approached the microphone. The crowd of journalists
surged toward him and Clark slipped quietly away and vanished through
the door that led to the backstage area.

Lois was there, sitting on a folding chair and looking nervous. Clark,
now clad in the famous spandex suit, strode into her line of sight and
came to sit beside her. "Hi," he said in a near-whisper.

"Hi," she responded. "I'm glad you're here. Did you have any trouble
getting away?"

He shook his head. "Ready to make the Metropolis Star look like the rag
it is?"

He could sense her relaxing. "You bet. I've been looking forward to this
since we thought of it."

Clark could hear Murray Brown speaking to his audience. "Murray's sure
enjoying himself," he remarked softly. "He's informing them that your
representative approached the Superman Foundation several weeks ago, and
that they were happy to help you. Get ready. You're almost on."

A young man approached them as he spoke. "Mr. Brown is almost ready for
you, Mrs. Kent." He turned to Superman. "And you, sir. If you'll both
follow me --"

Meekly, they trailed their guide to the wings of the stage, from which
they could see and hear everything that was being said. A reporter
raised his hand. "What kind of arrangement does Lois Lane have with the
Superman Foundation?"

Murray ignored the man. "And now, without further ado, I present our
founder, Superman."

"You're on," Lois whispered. He gave her a reassuring smile and strode
onto the stage.

Murray Brown extended a hand and the two men shook hands firmly before
Murray stepped back from the microphone. Clark looked down into a sea of
faces, striving to keep his expression pleasant but neutral. "Good
afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the press," he began.

"Hey, Supes! Where've you been all this time?" The brash voice from the
crowd was definitely Leo Nunk's. Clark ignored it.

"Due to circumstances beyond my control," he continued, "I have been
absent from Metropolis for some time. I'm back now, and have no
intention of leaving again. During my absence several events took place,
upon which the press has reported extensively. I don't think I need to
go into them. However, as a result, The Superman Foundation would like
to make an announcement." He paused, looking over the men and women
below him. A few of them had actually reported the facts of Lois's
marriage to Luthor and had refrained from lurid speculation, but more
had done a great deal that would put them in his black books for a long
time to come.

He turned to look at Lois, standing just out of sight of the audience.
At his nod, she entered, crossing the stage to where he stood. Her heart
was thumping hard but outwardly she showed no sign of her nervousness. A
murmur had sprung up among the crowd but it died as Lois reached him and
he turned to her with a welcoming smile. "Hello, Lois," he said. "I
haven't congratulated you and Clark yet. I hope you have a long and
happy marriage."

"Thank you, Superman," she said. She turned to the microphone. "In the
spirit of that, I'm here to announce the donation of virtually all of my
so-called inheritance to the Superman Foundation."

The murmur that sprang up following this announcement threatened to
deafen Clark. Lois waited until the sound began to die down before she
spoke again.

"My lawyers and my Managing Editor, Perry White, have been negotiating
for several weeks with representatives of the Superman Foundation. The
Foundation has graciously agreed to take control of my inheritance, and
use it to pay restitution to the employees and families of the Daily
Planet who were injured by Lex Luthor's crime. They have also agreed to
attempt to repair as much of the damage that he did with his criminal
organization as is feasible and henceforth to use the funds in the
Foundation's many charitable projects in this country and others around
the world." She paused. "I wish to thank my editor and the other news
organizations that did not leap to pass judgement on me during this
whole difficult time, for their journalistic integrity. My husband,
Clark Kent, and I appreciate it more than you know." She turned to
Superman. "Clark and I discussed this move thoroughly and are agreed
that the Superman Foundation can do much better with my inheritance than
I can. I signed the final papers today, just before this press conference."

Clark shook her hand. "On behalf of the Superman Foundation, I can only
say thank you, Lois. I'm sure that your donation will do a great deal of
good for the world." He turned to face the crowd and noted happily that
Leo Nunk's jaw was hanging half open. The man appeared to be in a state
of shock.

"The Superman Foundation wishes to thank Lois Lane for her great
generosity," he continued smoothly. "We'll be dedicating a plaque to her
as one of our most outstanding donors and humanitarians. I, personally,
would also like to add my thanks to Ms. Lane's to the editor and staff
of the Daily Planet and the other publications that refrained from the
temptation to jump to conclusions and irresponsible speculation about
the situation that led to Ms. Lane's very laudable action today. Their
example is an excellent one and I would hope that many would learn
something from it." Again he turned to Lois, ignoring the reaction of
some of the members of the crowd. "You have my personal thanks as well,
Lois. And congratulations again to you and Clark."

"Thank you," Lois said. He could see her struggling to keep a straight
face and decided that it was time to bring their part in this thing to
an end. He turned to the crowd.

"Now, I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere, and Ms. Lane has a job to get
back to, so I'm going to turn this event over to our Chairman, Mr.
Murray Brown, for any questions you wish to ask. Thank you for coming,
everyone." And with that he turned and left the podium, side by side
with Lois.

Minutes later, high above Metropolis, Lois turned in his arms, put hers
around his neck and kissed him thoroughly. His head was still spinning
when she pulled back and he brought them to a stop in the air until he
regained his equilibrium. "Wow!" he said. "What was that for?"

"You were great," she told him exultantly. "I'd even say 'super' but
I've been saying that several times a day since we got married."

"I'm not sure those count," he remarked. "I don't think your comments
had anything to do with my talent for public speaking."

She whacked him on the shoulder. "Don't fish for compliments," she told
him. "We've already established why you're called the Man of Steel."

Clark snorted. "I don't think anyone else is ever likely to have your
perspective on that," he observed.

She giggled. "They'd better not. Let's go home."

"Not back to the office?"

"I told Perry that you and I were headed out of town for a couple of
days to give the media a chance to get over this latest bombshell," she
informed him.

"Are we?"

"No, but if we pull the shades and don't answer the door, they'll figure
it out," she told him, walking her fingers flirtatiously up his chest.
"Besides, do you really mind? You can fax in your story to the Planet
and then we can get on with our bonding process. I think we could use
more practice."

The answer to that was a burst of speed as Clark headed for their apartment.

Married life was good.

The End

I was trying to access the boards this afternoon and I got directed to
a site that apparently indicates that the domain is not in use at the
moment is anyone else having the same problem? I was able to go on
this morning with no problems.

Late this afernoon, I went to the Fanfic Message Boards with no trouble. A few
minutes later I visited Zoomway's boards and then tried to go back to the FFMBs
only to have the error message pop up, so it's not just you. Try emailing
Annette. She's probably aware of the problem but if not she can try to find out
what's wrong.

Nan

Pei-Jean <soc_ker_angel@...> wrote: I was trying to access the boards
this afternoon and I got directed to
a site that apparently indicates that the domain is not in use at the
moment is anyone else having the same problem? I was able to go on
this morning with no problems.




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