inalienable rights CHAPTER SEVEN

A hot shower could wash away the tear stains and cobwebs, but it could do nothing to purge Lois of the fear of what had happened between her bus ride and the clouded awakening she'd just experienced. After an initial panic, she concluded that she appeared to be otherwise unharmed, at least physically.

She tried to take stock of her memories. I remember seeing Clark on the sidewalk… wait, no, I last saw him talking to Mr. Kent. Didn't I? Dinner with Chloe, pseudo-shopping in "downtown" Smallville, caught the bus… what am I missing? Her thoughts kept returning to Clark, but she saw him in Metropolis, in front of her building, and that just didn't make sense. It was a disconnected memory, like a renegade snapshot from a misplaced photo album.

She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, then wiped the steam from the mirror and studied her reflection. "Why can't I remember what happened?"

"Repeat after me: 'My name is Alice, and I work for the Umbrella Corporation.'"

Lois spun around to find the doorman peering into the bathroom from the hallway.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lois cried, then sprang toward him and kicked his right knee, causing him to sprawl face-down on the floor. Lois knelt astride his back and twisted his arms behind him.

The doorman screamed in agony. "Ow, damn it Lois! That's my bad leg!"

"Oh is it?" She tightened her grip on his wrists. "You'll get a bad arm to go with it if you don't tell me what you're doing here, Chris!" To emphasize her point, Lois pushed up on his elbow, eliciting more screams.

"Stop it! Stop! I just came to check on you, and you didn't answer the door. " He paused, blinking rapidly and trying to speak through the pain. "Hell, you were unconscious! I was supposed to just mind my own business?"

"That'd be a first." Lois tried to calm down and digest the situation. "When did I get home?"

"Look, let me up and I'll tell you everything I know."

"Do you know what happened to me?"

"No, I can only tell you how you got here."

Lois considered, then released her grip and stood up. "Don't move - you stay there until I get dressed."

"Yeah, uh - not a problem, since I think you broke my leg - again!"

"I didn't break your leg the first time, you sick little worm," Lois called from the bathroom as she pulled on a pair of track pants. "It's not my fault you fell off the fire escape when I caught you at the window." She came back out to the hall and nudged Chris's foot, causing Chris to roar yet again. "Don't be such a drama queen, Chris. It's not broken." Although, his leg did look a little disjointed. "Hold still," she advised, and straightened his leg to guide the joint back into place.

Chris screamed and tore at the hallway carpet with his teeth. "Damn, you're heartless."

Lois pulled him up by the back of his shirt and propelled him down the hallway. "No, I just don't get a lot of warm fuzzies for stalkers and perverts - and you're both, so you're out of luck." She shoved him toward an unforgiving wooden chair. "Now, talk."

Chris rubbed his neck and flexed his knee. "Give me an ice pack."

Lois grabbed the arms of the chair and leered at Chris menacingly. "Look, I just woke up with no memory of how I ended up on my bed, or anything else that happened after I took the bus yesterday, and then I find you in my hallway while I'm wearing a towel. Now, I don't know how you would react to that, but it kind of makes me anxious - and impatient."

Chris stared back at her, his pained gaze sharpening into an even, calculating glare. "Ice, pack."

Lois straightened up and stepped back. "Fine." She went to the freezer and came back with a frozen gel pack, pitching it at Chris like a major league baseball. "Now, start at the beginning. When did I get home?"

"Ahh…" Chris began, holding the cold pack over his knee. "Around eleven thirty."

"And?"

"And what?"

Lois began pacing, aggravated. "And was I walking? Brought in on a stretcher? What?"

"A couple of your friends brought you back."

"What friends?"

"I don't know the girl's name, but she called the guy Kal."

Kal… I don't know a Kal… "Was I conscious?"

"No, you were completely wasted."

"What did they look like?"

"The girl was about five-four, blondish, pale. Didn't seem like the partying type, but she was anxious to get back to the party."

"They said I was at a party?"

"Yeah." Chris shifted in his seat and applied the ice pack to his shoulder.

"What about the guy?"

"He was tall, more than six feet I'd say. Dark hair, plaid shirt, jeans, definitely not from around here."

Lois narrowed her eyes shrewdly. "Was he good-looking? Looked like he works out?

"Uh, sure. He must work out, he was carrying you and it didn't seem like it strained him."

Clark. "He was carrying me?"

"Yeah."

"Were they in here?"

"No, they turned you over to me at the door and left."

Lois shuddered, realizing that no friend of hers in this city would have left her in Chris' hands, as they all knew of her vocal contempt for the voyeuristic doorman. It had to be Clark. But was he part of what happened, or did he just bring me home? She had no doubt that if Clark happened upon her in some kind of distress, he'd have helped her, but could she believe that it was merely a coincidence? He was in Metropolis, but it was a big city.

"You can go now, Chris." She helped him stand and he hopped toward the door.

Chris continued talking. "I brought you up here in my desk chair."

"Thanks," Lois answered detachedly.

"And then I put you on the bed," Chris went on as he exited into the hallway, apparently thinking this was evidence that he was a good Samaritan.

"Chris, wait," Lois said as she came to the door behind him.

"Yes?"

Lois drew her hand back and slapped him clean across his left cheek. "Don't ever come in here again."