The tiny craft flew through space on a
           preprogrammed course. Its builder had chosen
           the third planet circling a small yellow star
           as a place where his son could survive and
           thrive. Could adapt to live among the
           inhabitants of that world.

           The tiny being inside the craft gave a mewling
           cry, but no one heard him.

           The builder was right. His son did survive on
           this new planet. He adapted and he learned to
           hide the things about himself that made him
           different. In time, he discovered that the
           abilities that made him different were very
           useful, and he set about testing the limits of
           those abilities.

           With no one to care for him, he had pulled
           himself up by his bootstraps, so to speak, not
           that he ever wore boots, becoming very strong,
           and hard, and bitter in the process. He envied
           those around him who had good lives, good
           families. He had attained his full growth
           within days of exiting his spaceship, and he
           envied the carefree existence of the children
           he saw. He taught himself everything he needed
           to know, and he traveled anywhere he wanted,
           unhampered by such human needs as food or
           sleep, finding pleasure only in those he could
           hurt.

           And then one day he wandered into a new place,
           and as had become his custom, he listened in on
           the conversations of the inhabitants of this
           town. One house in particular intrigued him,
           and he found himself returning to it again and
           again. He seemed to have a link to the son --
           not son, adopted son -- not adopted,
           found. Found in a spaceship in a
           cornfield. Found and kept and loved. And
           named.

           Named Clark.

           He beat soundlessly at the window in his rage
           and resentment. Why didn't someone find
           me? he shouted silently to the occupants of
           the house. Why didn't someone keep me, love
           me? Name ME?

           Why did this being, this Clark, have
           everything that I missed?

           And so the being with no name made his way to
           Metropolis determined to find the being, the
           Clark, who had everything that he should
           have had. Determined to snatch away what
           should have been his to begin with. Determined
           to hurt this being, this Clark, as much as he
           possibly could.

           He took on many names in his quest, adopted
           many faces, used many people, and dropped them
           all as they became inconvenient, or useless, or
           dangerous.

           At first, his task seemed impossible. The
           being, the Clark, was invulnerable. And then
           the being with no name and many names found a
           vulnerability, and a tool with which to exploit
           that vulnerability.

CHAPTER ONE

     "Superman! SUPERMAN!"

     His wife's high pitched scream of pain and terror brought Clark reeling to his feet at his desk, his heart pounding so loudly he thought it would thump right out of his chest. A few people looked up from their computers when his chair crashed loudly into a file cabinet, but they seemed unaware of Lois' distress. He realized he had picked it up with his superhearing, but it had sounded so close..

     "CK, are you all right?" Jimmy asked. "CK?"

     Ashen, Clark nodded. "Yeah... uh... s- sorry.. sorry for the racket," he stammered. "Just remembered something... gotta go." He rushed to the stairwell.

     "CK, your-" Jimmy started. The stairwell door closed in his face. "-coat. The guy's gonna freeze out there," he commented to no one in particular. He stared speculatively at the door for a moment, then grabbed his camera bag and headed for the elevator. "I'm going to lunch." Getting no reaction to his announcement, he glanced around the room. Everyone was once again absorbed in their stories. "Don't everybody wish me bon apetit all at once now." No reaction. "Sheesh, a bomb could go off underneath me and no one would notice."

     "Mmmm. What a mess that would be," Cat, the society page reporter, commented drily, wafting past on a cloud of Chanel No. 5. Over her shoulder, she added, "Bon apetit, mon ami."

     Jimmy chuckled briefly to himself, shaking his head. "Whatever." Then he frowned again, and headed out.

     Clark rushed out onto the roof of the Daily Planet, and spun into his supersuit. He had long since discovered that it attracted less attention than changing in the elevator and flying out the front door -- if people saw him routinely exiting the Planet, someone eventually would make the connection. He leaped into the air, heedless of the gasps from two elderly ladies on the sidewalk who just happened to look up as he flew over.

     "Look, Doris -- It's Superman!"

     "It's not Superm-- it is Superman! Which building did he come from?"

     "I couldn't tell.."

     In a second, he was streaking across the sky, straining to locate the source of Lois' screams. Suddenly her screams were cut off, but it didn't matter -- he had found her, and knew that her sudden silence was due to a large strip of tape across her mouth. He landed lightly, and raced into the building where he had seen her.

     And stopped short, confronted with a blank wall. A blank wall covered with lead paint. He started to go back outside, to find another way in, when suddenly a voice stopped him.

     "Over here, Superman." The man's voice was surprisingly young sounding, under his closely cropped white hair. Steely blue eyes appraised Superman coldly. Superman started toward him, but his first step produced an audible click from the floor. He looked down, automatically bringing his other foot to rest by the first. There was a second click. "You might not want to move around too much anymore, Superman," the man continued calmly. "You're on a touch-sensitive pad."

     "Uh-huh." Superman was not impressed. "And when I step off it.." He raised a foot experimentally.

     "Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you." The man pressed a button in the wall behind him, and a panel slid noiselessly into the wall. "Lois might not like it." Behind the panel, Superman saw Lois, spread-eagled on an upright, modern version of a rack. One side of her body seemed to be bearing the brunt of the stretching at the moment, and her eyes were shut tight against the pain, but the tape across her mouth kept her from crying out. He quickly put his foot back down and the tension on her arm and leg eased. She sagged forward, and then seemed to suddenly realize he was there. She looked up at him, and her eyes pleaded with him to help her.

     "Notice the correlation between the movement of your feet and the level of her discomfort," the man lectured. "Lean forward and her arms get pulled. Rock back on your heels and her legs get longer!" He giggled momentarily, but then his voice grew cold again. "Step off that pad, and not even you can fly fast enough to keep her from being torn limb from limb." He sauntered over to her, and ran an appreciative hand across her breast before reaching up to yank the tape from across her mouth. "On the other hand," he continued, in an almost conversational tone of voice, "balance your weight evenly on the pad, and she gets some relief." He seemed unaffected by either her gasp of pain from the ripping of the tape or her flinch of disgust from his touch.

     Superman didn't need to be told that the beakers on the shelf behind his wife contained chemicals -- he could see the molecular structures from where he stood. If he used his superbreath to blow the man away from Lois, he risked knocking them over, and in combination, they would release deadly fumes. Well, no problem, he would just use his heat vision to cut Lois loose from the rack. He began examining the rack his wife was attached to, and realized that he did have a problem. He presumed that her hands and feet were cuffed to the rack, but he couldn't see them -- they were shielded from his sight by a circle of lead, making Lois look like a modern version of DaVinci's drawing of a man in a circle. He tried to cut through it with his heat vision, but it was a futile gesture and he knew it. Lead absorbed his heat vision the same way it did his X-ray vision. He considered briefly that it was fortunate for him that most villains didn't realize this -- but unfortunately, this one did. The man seemed to have thought of everything.

     The man had been watching him of course through all this, and now he laughed. "Gotcha now, Superman," he sneered. "You know what I think would be good?" The man reached behind the rack and picked up a long, sharp knife. "I think it would be good if you reached up above you and took hold of that bar." Superman glanced up, but made no move toward the bar, folding his arms across his chest instead. "Oh, I really would appreciate it if you would do as I ask. I'd hate to have to hurt Lois..." He drew the knife lightly down her jacket, and she gasped at how easily the knife slit the fabric -- like a hot knife through butter. Superman paled and wrapped his hands around the bar. The man smiled. "Good boy," he praised Superman, as one might praise an obedient dog. "Of course the bar is also touch sensitive, and you've just armed the bomb. Let go -- and it blows! Isn't that genius?!" The man seemed truly delighted with himself.

     Superman rolled his eyes, shaking his head in frustration. Of course there was a bomb. There was always a bomb.

     The man turned back to Lois. "Well, my dear, now that I have your attention, and now that your husband is stuck like a bug on flypaper, we can get on with my reason for being here." Lois and Superman stared at each other in shock. He knew?!?

     "He- He's- He's not my- " Lois stammered desperately, but the man cut her off.

     "Of course he is. Did you think I wouldn't know that Clark Kent is Superman? Just how stupid do you think I am?" The man raised the knife again, and Lois flinched involuntarily. "Oh, please, I'm not going to cut you!" The man grimaced in distaste. "I just think you're a bit.. overdressed." He began methodically cutting away her clothes, and Lois began to struggle desperately against her bonds. In a sudden rage, the man slapped her across the face. "Be still," he hissed, "or I will cut you!"

     Lois cried out when the man slapped her.

     "NO!!" shouted Superman, in outrage. His mouth tightened in frustration -- there had to be some way for him to get to Lois, to rescue her from the horror he saw coming, but at that moment, he was stuck, just as the man said.

     The man returned to slicing at Lois' clothes. She felt a momentary pang at seeing her brand new silk blouse in strips on the floor, but then she felt the man's hand on her skin as he cut away her bra, and the destruction of her clothes lost significance. She could see Superman's desperation, and knew that if there was anything he could do, he would. The man had removed her shoes and nylons before cuffing her to the rack -- she shuddered at the memory of his hands sliding up under her skirt, and then shuddered more as she realized that she no longer had the skirt to cover her. Then her panties joined the ruined clothes on the floor, and she was nude, spread wide open, and completely defenseless.

     "Ye-e-s-s," the man whispered. The ice in his eyes seem to melt a bit as he ran his gaze over Lois' body and down her legs. "Oh, yes, very nice." He was almost purring. "You know, it's a shame you find it necessary to hide such a beautiful body all the time. But then, I guess Clarkie wouldn't want everybody ogling his wife, now would he? What do you think, Clarkie boy? Do you get turned on by the idea of seeing your wife with another man?"

     "No.." But Superman realized that Lois' nudity had affected him the way it always did. He swayed toward her involuntarily, and she gasped and whimpered as the rack pulled up on her arms. Immediately, he re-centered himself on the pad, and her arms relaxed.

     "Of course you do." The man gave another ugly laugh. He grasped Lois' chin and held her still as he leaned forward to kiss her mouth. "Oh yes, being a fly on the wall of your house was always very rewarding."

     At that moment the door opened and a young blond woman teetered in on impossibly high heels. "Oh, goody, you got them!" she exclaimed in a little girl voice that belied her voluptuous figure. "You're such a sweetie, Mikey!"

     Lois glanced quickly at the man, but he betrayed no dismay at the woman's use of his name. Must be an alias, Lois thought, amazed that she could be calm enough to think about such things at a moment like this.

     "He's all yours, Bunny," Mikey leered at her. "After all, it wouldn't be any fun for you to just watch, would it, Superman?"

     "You've got to be kidding." Superman kept his voice casual, disbelieving, but when Bunny ran her hands up his chest, his eyes widened, and his breath became shallow and panicky. Get her away from me! Get away! GET AWAY!!

     "Oh, no, not at all. Bunny's had a Superman fantasy for a long time, haven't you, Bunny?" He smiled indulgently at her.

     "Uh-huh." Bunny wrapped her arms around Superman's neck and tried to kiss him, but he turned his face away. "Oh, don't be a poop!"

     "I'm afraid you're not going to get much cooperation out of him."

     "I noticed. 'T's ok. We can do it the hard way." She giggled, and grabbed him through his suit. "Get it -- the hard way?" She didn't seem to notice that he immediately wilted under her touch.

     Lois rolled her eyes, as repulsed by the woman's attempt at humor as by the sight of that woman touching her husband's most intimate parts. And then all thoughts but one left her mind as Mikey turned back to her and slid his hand up her leg to her most intimate parts. "NO!"

     "Oh, yes, my dear! What do you think I brought you here for? To merely admire your beautiful skin? Why just admire, when I can touch, and stroke... and take?" He lowered his mouth to her breast, as his hand continued to caress her. After a moment, he looked back up at her. "You know, you might as well relax and enjoy it. You're still so dry!"

     Lois locked her gaze to her husband's, knowing the only way to get through this was use him as a lifeline, knowing that he needed a lifeline just as much as she did.

     Bunny had given up trying to get Superman to kiss her, and was working on undressing him. She got his belt off, and then pulled down his briefs and tights. She knelt in front of him and patted his ankle. "Raise your foot so I can take off your boot," she commanded. He looked down at her in disdain. "Oh. Right. The pad. Never mind." She turned to Mikey. "Never occurred to you to get him undressed before you got him on this thing, did it?"

     Mikey sighed loudly against Lois' breast. "Idiot," he muttered, then louder, "Sorry, Bunny. Deal with it."

     "Yeah, yeah." She left Superman's tights draped around his boots, and caressed her way up his thighs. Superman had returned his gaze to his wife's face, drawing strength from her. Bunny was having little success in her attempts to arouse him. "Man of Steel, my foot," she complained. "Man of Wet Noodles is more like it."

     Mikey seemed to be suffering from no such difficulties. Since Lois was not providing any lubrication, he had gotten a tube of gel, and was sliding his gel-coated fingers into her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she kept her gaze fixed on Clark. "I'm sorry," her husband mouthed, despairing.

     "I love you," she mouthed back, flinching as Mikey continued his invasion of her intimacy.

     Mikey withdrew his hand and stood up, leering at her as he unbuckled his belt. At that instant the door crashed open, and a voice yelled, "Everybody freeze!"

     "Jimmy?"

     "CK, Lois." Jimmy's eyes widened momentarily at their state of undress, then he pulled his eyes firmly to Superman's face, and kept the gun in his hand pointed squarely at Mikey. He moved quickly around to where he could watch Mikey without looking at Lois.

     "Why are you calling him CK?" Bunny asked. "His name is Superman. Don't you know anything?"

     "Jimmy, be careful with that gun." Superman wasn't going to deal just now with the fact that Jimmy apparently knew who he was too, and didn't want to give Bunny any more information than she already had.

     "Don't worry, C- uh, Superman, I've put in a lot of hours on the firing range over the past two years." He turned a hard look at Bunny. "You. Cover him up. Now."

     Bunny started to protest, then thought better of it. She pulled up Superman's tights and briefs, muttering, "Spoilsport!"

     Jimmy ignored her. "Lois, are you all right?" Red-faced, he didn't dare look at her.

     She nodded. "A little chilly, and my clothes are all cut up." She tilted her chin up, refusing to give Mikey the satisfaction of hearing shame in her voice.

     Jimmy looked at Superman, then closed his eyes, the muscles of his jaw working in frustration. He turned back to Mikey. "Maybe you should offer the lady your coat." It was not a suggestion.

     "Nah, I don't think so," responded Mikey. He melted into a mercury-like puddle, and flowed through a crack on the floor.

     "Whoa!" breathed Bunny. "Freaky!"

     "Damn," muttered Jimmy. He thought for a moment, then moved over to Superman. "Superman, can I use your cape for Lois?"

     Superman was as embarrassed as Jimmy. "Yes, please." He tried to gesture with his chin. "It unclasps here--"

     "Jimmy, look out -- she's trying to get away!"

     "Oh, for crying out loud!" Jimmy brought the gun around, and Bunny stopped, her hand on the door knob. "You are really starting to annoy me, you know that? Get over here." She obeyed, scowling. "You take off his cape."

     "Oh, goody! You're a sweetie!" She toddled toward Jimmy, reaching up as if to kiss him, but Jimmy held her at bay with his free hand.

     "Listen, you," he said, in a harder voice than Lois or Superman had ever heard him use, "you don't seem to realize the kind of trouble you're in here."

     "What do you mean?" Bunny unclasped Superman's cape, and handed it to Jimmy. "It was just a Superman fantasy. Men like sex and fantasies and stuff like that, and he's a man and.. and.. well, it's not like it was rape or anything -- men like sex.... " Bunny's voice trailed off as she began to realize that just how much trouble she was in.

     Jimmy's gun gestured her over to Lois. "Uncuff her," he ordered. While Bunny was thus occupied, Jimmy began awkwardly trying to cover Lois with the cape.

     "It'll probably be easier once my hands are loose," Lois murmured, her face burning with humiliation. As bad as it had been to have Mikey touch her, somehow having Jimmy see her in that condition was even worse.

     "You know, this was all not my idea," Bunny began.

     "Shut up," said Lois. She was very tired, shaking from shock, and she didn't want to hear another word from that little girl voice. As soon as her hands were free, she tied the cape around her, sarong style. Once her feet were loose, she rushed over to her husband. "Jimmy, there's a bomb in here somewhere, apparently activated by this bar." She indicated the bar that Superman still clutched. "If he lets go, the bomb will go off -- or at least that's what, uh, 'Puddleman' said." She gestured toward the floor.

     Bunny giggled. "Puddleman. That's good. You're funny!"

     Jimmy didn't seem to hear her. "Of course there's a bomb. There's always a bomb." He met Superman's startled look.

     "Are you telepathic all of the sudden, Jimmy?" Superman dismissed Jimmy's curious look with a shake of his head. "To answer the next obvious question -- there's a lot of lead in the room. I don't know where the bomb is."

     "Oh! No problem," said Jimmy. "If I can just get to the wires on this bar... " He looked around the room, scowling briefly. "Of course there's no chairs around when you need one."

     "Yes, there is," chirped Bunny, helpfully. "In the back room. I'll go get it!"

     The hard look returned to Jimmy's eyes. "I'll go with you. Wouldn't want you disappearing out a back door."

     Bunny gaped at him. "Don't you trust me? I told you, this was not my idea -- well, the Superman fantasy was my idea, but all the rest was Mikey's. I told him I wanted to have sex with Superman and he said he could help." She patted Superman's cheek. "You aren't mad at me, are you, for thinking you're a stud muffin?" She ran her hand down his chest, and he flinched away from her.

     "Hey," Lois said sharply. She grabbed Bunny's wrist and shoved her away. "Hands off! The game's over already, haven't you figured that out yet?"

     "Pushy, pushy! You'd think you were in love with him or something. Does your husband know you have a thing for Superman?"

     Lois just glared. "Jimmy, you were gonna get a chair?"

     "Right," said Jimmy, "Chair. Be right back. Come on!" He pushed Bunny along in front of him.

     "Everybody's pushing me around today," Bunny grumbled, heading towards the door. Lois and Superman could hear her still complaining in the next room. "You'd think people would know how to treat a lady, but no-o-o, just shove her around like -- hey, what are you doing? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

     When Jimmy returned alone a couple of minutes later, dragging a chair and slamming the door against Bunny's outraged shouts, Lois was leaning against Superman, shaking harder than ever. Jimmy put the gun away in his camera bag.

     "What did you do with Bunny?" Lois asked. "Not that I really care.."

     "I found some handcuffs in there, so I cuffed her to the stair railing. I was getting really tired of listening to her." He pulled the chair over next Superman and climbed up to look at the wires leading away from the bar. "See, the thing about a touch- sensitive bar is that it's only sensitive--" he selected one wire and pulled "--when it's connected to the computer. You can turn loose now, Superman."

     "JIMMY!!!"

     "It's ok, Lois." He climbed down off the chair. "This particular kind of touch-sensitive product has a fail-safe device. Break the connection between the bar and the computer, and it shuts down the computer. And by extension, anything connected to the computer. Like, for instance, a bomb."

     Lois was still staring at him in shock.

     "Lois! That I know how to use a gun -- yeah, you would be surprised. I haven't told anyone about that. But that I know my way around computers -- please! You know I'm into this stuff, have been for years."

     Superman gingerly released his hands from the bar. After a couple of seconds, when nothing happened, he flexed his fingers to ease his cramped muscles, and brought his arms down around his wife. A wave of relief hit him, and he staggered forward. The instant his feet left the pad he had been standing on, sections of the rack shot outward with a clang, increasing the diameter of the circle by almost a foot.

     The blood drained from Lois' face, and she buried her head in Superman's chest. Jimmy's eyes widened in horror, as he suddenly realized the extent of the danger Lois had been in. He collapsed into the chair, speechless.

     After a long moment, Lois raised her head, and reached for Jimmy, still keeping one arm firmly around her husband. She drew Jimmy into the circle of their embrace.

     "Looks like today I had two heroes." Her voice was shaky. Jimmy blushed brightly at her touch, and almost stopped breathing when she leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He pulled away, his gaze shifting around the room in a near panic.

     "Don't do that, ok?" His embarrassment was growing more acute by the minute.

     "I'm sorry." Lois was confused. "I just wanted to let you know I appreciate you -- we both appreciate you." Superman hugged her tighter, nodding his agreement.

     Jimmy took a deep breath, and met her gaze squarely, his nervousness suddenly vanishing. He's growing up right in front of my eyes, Lois thought in amazement.

     "I am really glad you're married to Clark," Jimmy said, finally. He reached up to pat Superman's shoulder, glancing at him briefly before he continued. "The only thing that would make me happier would be if you were married.. well.. to me." His cheeks reddened again, but he refused to look away. "You know I would do anything for you. For both of you."

     Lois looked at him, the pride and love she felt for him glowing through the tears in her eyes. She reached out and took his hand. "Jimmy, one of these days, a very lucky woman is going to be as happy to be your wife as I am to be Clark's. A very lucky woman indeed."

     Jimmy looked down at her hand clasped in his, and smiled. "Thanks, Lois." He raised her hand briefly to his lips, and then let her go. He looked at Superman. "I should get you guys home.. or do you want to..?" he angled his hand upward in a flying motion.

     "I think I can handle it from here." Superman's voice was warm, but gruff, and he couldn't quite manage a smile. He held out his hand and grasped Jimmy's. "Thanks, man."

     "Any time."

     Lois and Superman turned to go, but then Lois suddenly turned back. "Oh! Wait a minute. How long have you known? Uh, about Clark and Superman, I mean."

     "Oh. Uh, three or four weeks maybe." Jimmy thought about it, his head bobbing as he tried to explain. "It sort came together in bits and pieces. I noticed that you two always had scoops on Superman that no one else did. Then I realized that Clark was never around when Superman was. Then it hit me that whenever something happened, Clark would disappear and a minute later Superman would fly in and save the day. It got to be too many coincidences to dismiss. I haven't totally figured out how you swung that press conference that one time, but ..."

     "I think he's angling for your investigative reporter job, Lois."

     Jimmy blushed and grinned, suddenly looking more like the cub reporter they were familiar with. "Yeah, well, all in good time." He grew serious again. "And listen, I understand about the reasons why you have to be two people. I mean, look what Puddleman did. If too many people know--"

     Superman held up his hand to stop Jimmy. The last thing Lois needed was to be reminded of how close she had come to dying that day. And then Lois reached up and gathered Superman's arm back around her. "It's ok, love. Thanks, Jimmy, we appreciate your.. discretion." She turned to her husband. "Take me home?"

     Superman leaned down to pick her up. "You got it. See you later, Jimmy."

     "Bye, guys."

     When Jimmy went to the back room to get Bunny, he found only the open handcuffs lying on the floor by the stairs, with a bent hairpin beside them. A ditzy blonde who can pick the lock on a pair of handcuffs. Sheesh! It was probably just as well. He would have had to take her to the police, and he hadn't figured out how he was going to explain this whole mess to them. He thought about calling Clark and Lois to let them know, but then he decided they needed their rest. I don't think they were going to the police station this evening anyway -- if at all. With no way of catching "Puddleman," and now with Bunny vanished into the city, there didn't seem to be much point.

     Superman circled their house once quickly to make sure no one was around, then slid lightly through the open window on the second floor at the back of the house. They had bought the house soon after their marriage, choosing it because of the large back yard and trees that would help to cover Superman's comings and goings. The second floor bedroom window was alway open. Superman set Lois down, then scooped her right back up when she threatened to collapse onto the floor.

     "I need a shower, Clark," she whispered urgently. "I've gotta get that man off me." Her shaking had decreased considerably during their flight home, but her husband could tell she was so weak from the ordeal that she could barely stand. She seemed to recognize it too. "Don't leave me, ok? I want to wash her off you, too."

     Clark met her gaze, and nodded mutely. He was relieved to hear Lois' voice getting stronger, taking on a possessive note at the end. He set Lois down on the bed, preparing to spin out of the suit, but she stopped him.

     "My job." She got unsteadily to her feet, grasping his hand for balance, and stepped behind him to unzip his shirt. She stroked his back where the open zipper exposed it, and kissed the nape of his neck. She leaned against him for a moment, pressing her cheek to the velvety smoothness of his skin, and drew a deep, ragged breath. Her hands slipped around his waist to unbuckle his belt, which clattered to the floor. "Sorry -- butterfingers."

     "It's ok." Clark wanted to touch her, to reassure her, but he knew that today she needed to be in control, more than she ever had before. A man had touched her most private parts against her will, had forced himself on her, and Clark was determined to give her all the time she needed, to let her set the pace for whatever was or was not going to happen next. Thinking back over the day, the trap seemed so obvious, he couldn't believe he had fallen into it, and a wave of guilt washed over him. He wanted to find some way to apologize to her, but --

     "Clark, what happened today..." Lois laid her cheek against his back again. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the face as she spoke. "I can't believe I was so stupid as to fall for that guy's story! He said he had information about someone trying to revive Intergang, and asked me to meet him at that building, alone. I should have told you where I was going -- it was so stupid of me! But he seemed so normal," she almost choked on the word, "so sincere about helping, I thought it would be no big deal. I should have known when he wanted to meet me alone that it was a trap -- and then he -- and then you -- Oh, Clark, you came as close to being raped as I did -- and it was my fault!" She sobbed, trying desperately to wipe away her tears before he saw them.

     Clark turned around in her arms, wanting more than ever to gather her to him and hold her safe, wanting even more to not rush her. He needn't have worried. She raised her arms and slid them around his neck, pressing her body against him. "Hold me," she whispered. "Hold me tight." With a groan, he wrapped his arms around her and held her. After a moment she squirmed, noting drily, "Too tight, Clark, I can't breath."

     With a cry, "I'm sorry!" he let her go. He stared at her, shocked beyond words that he could have hurt her more, today of all days. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

     Lois shook her head, reaching up to stroke his hair. "It's ok, love."

     "It's not ok!" The dammed up emotions burst through inside him and he began to cry. He sat down on the bed with his face in his hands, his powerful body wracked by sobs. "I should have stopped him! Should have stopped her! There should have been a way!! I'm so sorry, Lois! So sorry.."

     Now it was Lois' turn to hold him. She pulled his hands from his face, sat on his lap, and drew his head down across her chest to her shoulder, stroking his hair and rocking him until his sobs quieted. Tears ran down her face as well and she scrubbed them away. Clark needed her to be strong now. Clark's arms stole around her, holding her as carefully as if she were a fragile piece of glass. When he was calm again, she raised his head and kissed away the last of his tears, then handed him a tissue to blow his nose. As he reached for another tissue to dry his tears off her breast, she said, "There were probably a lot of things we could have done differently today. Blaming ourselves or each other isn't going to change anything. It happened, it's over. What do you say we go have that shower now.. and move on."

     Clark leaned forward and brushed his lips across her mouth. "I say it's a good idea." Lois' hands caressed his face as she returned his kiss, then she slid off his lap onto the floor, smiling a little crookedly at him. "Looks like I got a little side-tracked from my job." She pulled off his boots, standing them neatly by the bed. He helped her stand up, holding her hand as she led him to the shower. Her step was steadier, as if the flood of their emotions had somehow strengthened her.

     In the bathroom, Lois untied his cape from around her, and let it whisper to the floor. She pulled Clark's shirt out of the waistband of his tights, and he raised his arms to let her pull it off over his head. She ran her hands down his chest, dropping his shirt on the floor and kicking it out of the way with her foot. A moment later his tights and briefs followed. Clark turned on the water in the shower, adjusting the temperature to the heat he knew that Lois liked. Immediately, Lois ducked under the spray, letting the force of the water wash away the last of her tears, the remnants of her makeup and the feel of Mikey's mouth on hers.

     Clark was still standing hesitantly outside the shower stall. Lois turned to him with a tiny smile. "Come in here. I need you." She held out a soapy loufa. Clark took it, wishing he could grin with relief, but finding that was still a bit beyond him.

     "We are going to be all right, aren't we, Lois?" He didn't mean to sound so frightened -- the last thing Lois needed was for him to dump his pain and fear on her.

     Lois put her arms around his neck, drawing him to her under the water. "We're going to be just fine." She kissed him, running her hands through his hair as the water ran over his back. He began rubbing the loufa gently across her shoulders. She winced. "Ooo, that's sore!"

     Clark immediately lightened his touch. "And gonna be sore for the next few days, I'll bet."

     Lois nodded. She smiled ruefully, resting her head against his chest. "Well, I guess you'll just have to take extra special care of me for the next few days, won't you?"

     He brushed the loufa feather-light down her back. "You got it, my love." He turned her around gently in his arms so she could lean back against him as he washed her. He ran the loufa across her belly and up between her breasts. She sighed appreciatively, moving her shoulders sensuously to rub her back against his chest. The best part of making love to Lois, Clark thought, is watching her react to my touch -- today more than ever before. He put down the loufa and ran his hands through the soap on her stomach, smoothing away all her aches and pains, at least for the moment. He caressed her belly, but hesitated before reaching lower. Even after all that had been said in the last few minutes, would she let him touch her there, or would she flinch away, made afraid of him by the touch of a monster?

     Lois felt him hesitate and wondered, Do I repulse him now? Am I so soiled by that monster that my husband won't touch me in the very place that only he has the right to? And then it suddenly became clear to her -- ever since they had gotten back to the house, Clark had been letting her set the pace for their lovemaking. He had given back to her the control that had been snatched away. "I love you, Clark Kent," she whispered. She moved her feet a little ways apart and guided his soapy hands between her legs, letting him soap away the sticky gel that Mikey had used to get his hand inside her.

     "Lois," Clark groaned, "we don't have to--"

     "Yes, we do." She turned around his arms.

     "This is not like falling off a horse and getting right back on." He stared down at her, wanting her with a desperation that frightened him. Can I control this?

     "I know." Lois ran her hands across her husband's chest. "I need you." She stared back up at him, her face white and set. "I need you to wash him out of me." She drew him toward her, raising her mouth to his kiss.

     He held her tightly in his arms. Yes, he thought. We are going to be fine.

     Late that night, as Lois lay asleep, Clark slipped from her side and sat in the recliner across the room. The sexual high that had comforted him earlier had faded. The guilt he had been feeling had returned stronger than ever, threatening to swamp him. She had depended on him to keep her safe and he had let her down. How could she ever trust him again? How could he trust himself? She might be safer without him. But he would die without her... And where that woman had touched him -- no one but Lois had touched him there since he was a tiny child, and no one else should have, and he hated Bunny for tarnishing the most special, most intimate part of his life -- hated her with a passion that frightened him. He should just leave, go back to Smallville, or fly out into space until he suffocated, or fly into the sun... Dark thoughts chased themselves around his head as he sank into depression. Tears that no superpower could stop coursed down his cheeks.

     In the bed, Lois' dreams had taken a dark turn when Clark left her side. She was back on the rack and her sliced-up clothes on the floor and Clark was across the room and he was nude and the woman was touching him and the man was touching her and NO!!! She sat bolt upright in bed, her eyes wide with shock, her hands clutching the bedsheets and the granny gown she had worn to bed. She reached for Clark, but he wasn't there. "Clark?" she whimpered. Surely he hadn't left her to go be Superman, not tonight.

     "Over here, Lois."

     Breath exploded from her lungs in a harsh sound of relief. She couldn't see him in the dark, but could tell from the direction of his voice that he was sitting in the recliner. Why is he over there? Now that her momentary panic at his absence was eased, she could hear the tiny sobs he was trying so hard to stifle.

     "Oh, Clark." She clambered out of bed and padded across the room to him. "Aw, sweetie, don't cry!" She stroked his hair.

     "I can't help it." The sobs he had been smothering took over, and he clung to Lois, the one person who understood how he felt and the one person he had to protect from those feelings. If she knew that he had thought about leaving her, that he wanted to die, it would hurt her in a way that no one, not Mikey or anyone else, could. He knew that his thoughts were irrational, but he couldn't seem to sort them out.

     Lois stood beside him for a long time, holding him tightly as he cried himself out. She knew that eventually she was going to need the same sort of release, but for right now she had to keep a very tight lid on her emotions, to get them through this. When his sobs quieted again, she perched on the arm of the recliner and asked, "Clark, how much vacation time do you have accumulated?"

     "Vacation?" He looked at her blankly, and shook his head. "I don't know. A couple of weeks maybe? I don't know. Why?"

     "We've got to talk about this -- we've got to talk with somebody or it's going to tear us both apart. And the only people we can really open up to are your folks. We've got to go to Smallville, and we've got to plan to stay long enough to work through this -- even if we have to take a leave of absence --"

     He interrupted, horrified. "I don't want my folks to know about this -- are you crazy?"

     He pulled away from her, getting up and turning on the light. "I can't tell them this! Do you know what it would do to them to know that-- that-- "

     "That you were almost raped today? That I was almost raped?"

     "Lois, we were raped today," Clark whispered. "He put his hand in-- " he couldn't bring himself to say it, so he tried to push on. "She had her mouth--" Lois covered his mouth with her hand, stopping the words she couldn't bear to hear. Her breath was coming hard.

     "Exactly. Do you really think we can keep this from them?"

     "Yes!"

     "No, we can't." She went to him, reaching up to turn his face toward her. "Clark, look at me."

     He stared at her dully. "I can't hurt them like that."

     "Clark, we have got to get help, and they're the only ones we can turn to. Don't you think it would hurt them more if we shut them out?"

     He turned away. "I hate it when you're right." The defeat in his whisper shook her more than she could have imagined. She closed her eyes, taking no pleasure in her victory.

     Jonathan and Martha will know what to do, she thought. We've got to get to Smallville.

     She took his hand and drew him back to the bed. He lay down with his back to her, and after a moment of hurt, she lay down behind him, wrapping her body against his, showing him that "spoons" could work that way too. She was afraid for a moment he would push her away, but he just lay there, and then with a deep sigh, he took her hand from his side, and hugged it to his chest, as a child might hug a security blanket. Lois found comfort in that small gesture, and she slept.