Point Me Home

Author's Notes: With all sincere and heart-felt apologies to the Bare Naked Ladies. I was inspired by song after acquiring their CD Disc One: All their greatest hits, 2001. There are four songs referred to herein.

***

The newsroom of the Daily Planet continued to buzz around Clark Kent as he stared into a manila file on his desk. There was a letter in his hands, the letterhead matching neatly to an envelope crumpled recently into the metal trashcan next to his desk.

He didn't hear Lois' first few attempts to get his attention. Unfortunately, that never led to her going away. It produced only louder, more strident tones. Sometimes, he was reminded that it was a bad idea to work with anyone that remembered you as a high school student.

"Smallville!"

Biting his lip in frustration, his teeth having no effect on his own invulnerable flesh, Clark repressed the urge to bark back at her. Instead, he simply looked up.

She was standing to the side of his desk. Her hip was canted at an angle, fist planted firmly on the swell. Not for the first time, Clark wondered how much easier his life would be if the rumors were true. If he was actually screwing his partner, rather than perpetually trapped by his alien nature.

When he didn't actually say anything, Lois just rolled her eyes. "Perry wants you."

He made no move to dart towards the editor's office. Lois' eyes narrowed. She knew there was something between him and Perry. Some truth, some secret, some tie that permitted him this leeway. Unfortunately, it was the same secret that she kept for her partner, so it was impossible to exploit.

"Now, Smallville."

Frustrated, he stomped off. The file had been forgotten on his desk. Lois smirked, checking that his back was turned as she snatched the file and took off. She figured she had about a minute and a half before Clark realized that Perry didn't really need to see him. But Lois had been watching him add papers to that file for weeks. There was no way her partner was scooping her on any story. She was senior in this partnership, after all.

Perched in the breakroom, the presence of other reporters and employees a buffer to prevent any advantage on her not-quite-human partner's behalf, Lois opened the file. It was disappointingly not connected with any impending scoop. They were letters of thanks. Letters from charities acknowledging Clark Kent for his donations.

At first, Lois was convinced her erstwhile bumbling friend was simply shy about his beneficence. Then she looked closer. These letters were far more than forms sent automatically to a small-time contributor. These were personalized. These were not stamped with a signature block. These were signed individually by the directors and administrators of the groups.

These were each for a million dollars.

The sudden shadow cast over her reading caused Lois to look up. Clark was staring down at her, a combination of anxiety, bashfulness, and fear in his eyes.

"Christ, Smallville. What have you been up to?"

"Just give it back."

"No, I think I need answers."

The sight of Clark Kent dragging Lois Lane through the hallways of their particular working floor was no new experience. He had an implacable grasp on her elbow as they headed for a meeting room. She knew, by now, not to struggle. He wouldn't intentionally hurt her, but he would allow her to bruise herself if she didn't cooperate.

When the door closed behind them, securing a semi-private conversation, Lois smirked. She flipped to the back of the manila folder, pulling out the letter with the earliest date.

"Dear Mr. Kent… yadda yadda… Your million dollar donation to the Metropolis branch of Habitat for Humanity… yadda yadda… Guaranteed anonymity in accordance with the donation terms… yadda yadda…"

Lois looked up, still smirking. "What's up, Smallville? Been playing with the whole coal into diamonds trick?"

Clark was slumped into a chair. He was idly picking at a thumbnail and avoiding Lois' eyes. "I didn't make the donation."

She widened her eyes and moved to the next letter. "Dear Mr. Kent… yadda yadda… Previous generosity… yadda yadda… Our thanks for the second million dollar donation that will furnish… yadda yadda… Director, Metropolis Habitat for Humanity."

Clark had no response. Lois, growing more annoyed, began to flip through without reading specifics.

"Matching donations to Vehicular Mobility, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, an Emu and petting area at the Metropolis Zoo, the study of neurofibromatosis at Metropolis University, a collection of Picasso's lesser known sketches and letters to the Metropolis Museum of Art."

Lois paused a moment, skipping past several and looking at the newest letter. "How cute, Smallville. A daycare associated with Big Brothers Big Sisters of Metropolis based in a tree fort. What is going on?"

By the end, Lois had regained her usual strident tones. Clark only shrugged.

"Speak, Kent. There's thirteen million dollars worth of donations here."

"I didn't make them."

Clark's voice was soft. He was almost apologetic in his refusal, shy over the attention for something he hadn't done.

"Has Superman made them?"

"No, Lois."

Lois nodded and sat down. She closed the file, not quite knowing how to address her next question to her partner. After a pause, in which neither of them spoke, she finally broke the silence with a hesitancy that she was completely unaccustomed to courting.

"Have you spoken to Lex?"

Clark's head dropped further. "Not in the last five years."

"Don't you think it's worth checking?"

"It's not him. Drop it, Lois."

The last statement had the bare overtones of command. Lois rolled her eyes again. At least her partner was taking a stand on something.

"Do you know many other rich folks who would drop thirteen million dollars in your lap? And know how to do it in such a way that you wouldn't refuse?"

Clark lifted his head to finally meet her steady gaze. There was reproach in those changeable eyes. Bitter regret for himself and a tangible desire for her to just drop the subject.

"A Luthor making any charitable effort without grasping the publicity? I thought you were the one who said they're all dirty, we just can't prove it yet."

"Not him, Kent. You know it."

"I don't know anything."

Lois sighed, slumping backwards in her chair. She could really use a cigarette, but knew Perry would kill her for lighting up inside the building. Not to mention being tattled on by a super-powered nose.

"You know, Kent, I'm damned tired of the pity-party. Let me lay out a few facts for you."

Clark looked up at the animosity in Lois' tone. She was frequently frustrated with him for some reason. They were always impatient with each other. However, he'd rarely heard such hate.

"You fucking disappeared. Yeah, Luthor was an ass at times back then. Then you graduated and everyone thought you'd died."

She held up a hand to stop him as he opened his mouth. "Don't even. I know your parents said you were out of state. That doesn't explain why no one heard from you for two years. We were all convinced you were dead and they were in denial. Then, with Lionel Luthor dying…"

Lois paused, shaking her head. "You damned idiot. Lex Luthor changed that entire company into something respectable out of some respect for your memory. We can't find anything on him or his holdings because there isn't anything, Kent."

She stood, tossing his file back at him. He caught it, only the slightest application of increased speed and dexterity ensuring that the content didn't spread across the floor.

Lois paused in front of his chair. She leaned forward, ostensibly trapping him in the seat. Her words were hissed in spite, right into his face.

"You scared the fucking piss out of everyone. Then, you just show up and work here for three years without trying to contact him. So everyone gets to know you're okay… everyone important gets to be trusted with the care and maintenance of the Superman thing… everyone but someone you called your best fucking friend."

She shook her head as she strolled to the door. Her last comment was tossed over her shoulder to be considered as Clark sat numbly in his chair.

"If that's how you're going to end up treating the rest of us, Smallville, you won't have very many friends left."

***

A week of silent sulking went by before Clark finally managed to apologize to Lois in such a way as she would forgive him. The manila folder disappeared. No new letters appeared to be added, the subject seemingly closed.

Clark, finally considering that maybe Lois had a point and once again not finding anything hinting at shadiness in the LexCorp dealings, dialed up the old memorized numbers. They had all been disconnected. Not one to surrender quite so easily, he tried the main receptionists for the corporation.

Unfortunately, Clark Kent was well known as a reporter in the Metropolis area. His calls were repeatedly shunted to Public Relations. After another week of attempts, never nearing the elusive executive, Clark stopped. There had to be another way, a way not likely to be blocked by defensive and far-too-competent employees.

"Mr. Kent?"

The slight question had Clark looking up from his desk. His eyes scanned the diminutive Asian woman. He had that niggling impression that he should have a name to connect to the face but none was springing to mind.

"Yes, that's me."

"I'd like to speak with you for a few minutes."

***

Lois returned from lunch whistling her pleasure. She had enjoyed quite the little tête-à-tête with a source and then practically stumbled across another lead.

Coming out of the elevator, she passed a woman who immediately had her mouth falling open in recognition. The doors closed, cutting off her opportunity to ask a question, spawn an interview, or simply gape. At a loss, her own personal triumphs momentarily forgotten, she crossed to the paired desks where Clark was seated.

"What was Yoko Ono doing in the newsroom?"

Clark's reply was faint and almost unbelieving. His eyes were focused on some distance, not clearly registering Lois.

"She wanted to talk to me."

"Smallville?" Lois paused for explanation, then asked, "Why?"

Clark's eyes finally focused. His brows furrowed as he stared at her and attempted to comprehend the events surrounding him.

"To tell me that John Lennon never regretted the changes in his life because of her."

Lois snorted, balling up a message in her fist before bouncing it off his forehead. "And you say the Monk of Metropolis isn't involved. God, Smallville, you are such a dweeb."

Clark continued to stare off into the distance, thinking. There were too many events to consider. Yes, Lex Luthor was nowhere near the unscrupulous businessman modeled by his father. Yes, apparently, someone was carrying out a complicated and odd courtship in his direction. No, it didn't have to be something to do with the incredibly insular and unusually celibate Luthor heir.

Sighing, Clark returned to his work. If it was… He shoved the thought away. It was far too tempting.

***

"Lane! Kent! Get in here!"

The bark of Perry White was definitely worse than his bite. Still, there wasn't a person in the newsroom who wanted either directed at them. Despite their seeming disregard for danger, Lois Lane and Clark Kent jumped when called. It was only moments later that they were in front of the editor's desk.

"Close the door."

Perry was clearly not happy. Clark leaned over from his seat in the 'principal's office' and nudged the door shut. He could hear the speculation just beyond on how the 'dynamic duo' had gotten in trouble this time.

"Can someone explain this to me?"

Lois and Clark leaned in, peering at the day's edition splayed on their editor's desk. Clark seemed to flinch slightly but Lois was confused.

"What are we looking for, Sir?"

"This!" he barked, pointing a finger at the page. There, beneath the Daily Planet flag, was a single line that crossed the entire page. It ran in a block just above the date and edition stamp. It was simple text that spelled out a simple declaration.

Lois began to snicker. Her humor was cut off quickly as Perry turned his glare in her direction. Noting Kent's minimal abashment, he dismissed the female reporter with a slight gesture. When they were alone, the weight of the office had Clark hunching his shoulders.

"Kent… Why is this in my paper?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't be sorry, just explain."

Perry was abnormally patient with the young man. They were both well aware that his return to respectable journalism lay at the feet of his employee. They both knew that Clark had a bigger calling than his exposés. Unfortunately, Perry couldn't let an unauthorized alteration to his newspaper slide without comment. When no explanation seemed to be forthcoming, he read off the line that sprawled across his front page.

"If you call, I will answer. If you fall, I'll pick you up. If you court this disaster, I'll point you home."

Clark blushed. Perry simply rolled his eyes before folding the paper. He gestured sharply at the door with it as he shook his head.

"Get out of my office, Kent. In the future, keep your romantic schmoop out of my paper."

It was less than any other employee would have received for that stunt. Perry comforted himself that at least the Daily Planet would have the exclusive on the results of this little story.

***

It was a given that the world didn't stop moving while Clark waited for a response to his brash alteration of the Daily Planet. That assumed, of course, that his message had been received, understood, his assumption correct, and his intention desired.

The agony was almost enough to give an alien heartburn. It made Clark wonder, once again, if it was possible for him to get heartburn… or indigestion… or exactly what he'd have to consume to cause such.

While pondering this inscrutable thought, the newsroom burst into an agonized frenzy of movement punctured by gunfire.

"Nobody move!"

The gnarled voice was both familiar and hated. Lois shot a concerned look at Clark before they both froze at their desk. The absence of Lionel Luthor and the decline of Morgan Edge had caused a scramble for control of Metropolis' underbelly. The assumed master of the fray, Henry Fiero ('The General', despite his dishonorable discharge as a private), was convicted of multiple felonies and imprisoned after a series of rather risky reports by Lane and Kent.

An imprisonment that didn't quite stick, judging by the presence of him and his goons on the newsfloor. As always, they were overly well armed. Again, the gunfire echoed as bullets embedded, for now, in the walls.

"I want Lane and Kent. Everyone else has one minute to get out of my sight or I'll decorate with your entrails."

It was overly dramatic, but effective. The newsfloor cleared faster than a fire drill. Gunmen took position at the exits, threatening the slower moving occupants into a hurry.

Finally, it was just the partners at their desks and the group of armed men. Lois reconciled her relative unconcern to the knowledge she had. After all, Clark was hardly likely to let these men do anything lethal.

"Fiero."

The General didn't appreciate the unconcerned pronunciation of his name. Of course, Lois having grown up with a real general as a father didn't particularly care what this overgrown thug thought.

Silent, the pair were directed away from their desks and brought to a central pillar. Handcuffed, they were seated on the floor. They could only watch as the gunmen moved through the room in an intentional pattern. The exits secured, the windows covered, the lack of security cameras verified, they took positions for the drawn out siege that was likely to result when the police arrived.

Clark glanced at Lois and received her slight nod. He tensed, ready to act as a gunmen let out a bellow of amusement.

"Boss, look who I found hiding in the office."

The partners caught their breath as the gunman who had spoken gestured a pair of men out from the editor's previously closed office. Hesitantly, Perry White shuffled into view with his hands on his head. As usual, he walked the borderline between professional and scruffy. The man behind him was a sheer contrast in his impeccable suit.

"Lex," Clark breathed on a sigh.

While Luthor had his own hands loosely clasped on the back of his bald head, his own attention wasn't on the gunmen prodding him forward. It was locked across the room on Clark. They stared, this unconventional reunion marred only by their inability to approach each other. Still, their eyes made promises.

Lois hissed out a slow breath of concern as Fiero practically gloated his good fortune.

"No better leverage than a Luthor."

Relegating Perry to handcuffs and the same pillar that held the partners, Fiero singled out Lex for his personal attentions. The business mogul was forced to his knees, after a short but fierce struggle, and held at an execution style gunpoint.

"Now, here's what you're going to do for me."

The General's words were barely getting through Clark's singular focus as more than a low buzzing source of his growing anger. Lois was too busy wondering if the gunman who held the pistol on a kneeling Luthor would suddenly burst into flame. Only Perry was paying any kind of attention to the maniacal diatribe of demands.

Fiero didn't pause when Lex's first non sequitur was uttered across his continuing speech. "One minute you're dazzled by the beauty of it all."

The rant continued. However, when the second unconnected statement fell from Lex's lips, Fiero paused for a moment. He was curiously disconcerted by Luthor's unconcern with his armed captivity.

"Next, you're waiting for the sky to fall."

Clark's eyes narrowed in understanding. As Fiero continued to make demands and rant at the injustice applied to him, the gunmen arrayed about the room shifted nervously. Their hostages were not reacting how hostages were supposed to react. Where was the fear?

"Never a breath you can afford to waste."

Fiero turned at the most recent muttering, barking out a quick, "Can someone please shut Luthor up?!"

The gunman holding the kneeling man in position obeyed the command with a swift backhand across Lex's skull. Lex fell forward slightly before catching himself. He held one hand slightly to his chest. Clark's scan showed a series of broken metacarpals in the right being cradled by the left.

The dark-haired reporter felt his lips drawing back in a silent snarl. It was Lois who voiced the obvious, as Lex smirked through the pain.

"That was a bad idea."

She fell silent as a gun was shoved in her face. Fiero, momentarily distracted, returned to his spiel. As always, it seemed that villainy had to be accompanied by oratory.

"Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight."

Lex's most recent random statement seemed slightly more applicable. He held his defiant stance as Fiero approached, getting right in his face with a snarl of displeasure. As Lois was not impressed with the criminal, following her youth with a military commander, Lex too, had grown up with a far scarier patriarch.

He smirked in the face of danger, uttering his final thought on the subject. "Got to kick at the darkness till it bleeds daylight."

Fiero, impatient with his unimpressed hostage, drew his own private weapon. He leveled it, the barrel brushing a scrape across the business magnate's clear forehead.

"You're just too much trouble, aren't you, Luthor?"

Before the General had even finished voicing the question, he found his weapon crumpling around his trapped finger. The bone broke, of course, and the obstruction was unlikely to be removed from his hand without surgery.

He looked up, finding his gunmen crumpled to the floor from applied force, but having felt only a rush of wind. His eyes followed the turned over, inelegant tie to the collar of a dull-brown suit and the angry eyes of a male reporter. Clark stared at the criminal as realization crossed his pained features.

"You can't do anything to me… I'll tell everyone you're Superman!"

The desperate stammerings were ignored as Clark grasped the man's face. His temples were cradled in deceptively gentle hands as Clark stole back the precious knowledge in a kiss.

Lois protested being ignored as Fiero was dropped to the floor to join his subordinates in unconsciousness. "A little help here!"

Clark, muttering an apology, broke the chains between the wrist cuffs binding both Lois and Perry. He turned to face Lex, nervous. Lois and Perry were known variables. They both knew he was Superman. Lex, as far as he'd known, didn't.

"Lex, I…"

His voice tapered off as the irritated businessman brushed dirt from his suit. He seemed to be ignoring the growing bruise on his hand, or the bones that were already mending as a result of his meteorite-induced mutation.

"I already knew you were Superman, Clark. It's fine."

Clark stammered, not having expected this blatant declaration. "You're not angry?"

Lex looked up, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes at this man he'd pursued in such an unusual fashion. "Of course, I'm angry. I've known for years. But," he paused with the slightest abashment in his expression. "You couldn't have trusted me then. I understand that now."

Clark's smile beamed with an unusual brilliance as he approached his once-best friend and, hopefully, soon to be lover. He drew Lex into a willing embrace, before being halted as he lowered his head for their first, non-fraternal kiss.

"I don't think so, tights boy."

Clark drew back, shocked at the idle endearment and confused at the refusal. Lex responded with a mischievous declaration, finding the humor in their situation.

"With where those lips were last? They don't come near me until you've at least had a shower."

Lex cast a glance down the pitiful excuse for fashion that represented Clark's daily professional-wear and shook his head. "I almost preferred the flannel."

Clark, chuckling, turned to look at Lois and Perry. Lois was already typing away at her computer, ready for the byline on the latest Daily Planet exclusive. Perry, fists on his hips, was waiting for a pause in the little romantic clinch.

"If you don't mind, Kent. We'll need a broken window and a little more mess. After all, Superman did swoop in here and save us."

Letting go of Lex, Clark set about faking his alter ego's appearance. It was a good day to be a Kryptonian.

Finis

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