He had the utmost faith in the “Scoobies” to find out what they needed to figure out how the vampires were becoming day walkers instead of just night walkers, but he was finding himself restless.
Gazing across the Daily Planet, he found the focus of his restlessness. Lois was pacing in Perry White’s office. She was a woman on a mission about the vampires. He found it absolutely amazing. Lois Lane was not worried for her life, no, the woman had enough harrowing close-calls to consider her nine lives being up, but she was a reporter first and foremost. While Perry wanted Superman coverage, Lois wanted vampire coverage. She was afraid; he knew – mainly because he heard her – that Perry was going to give him the vampire story. He hoped that Perry would. Anything to keep her safe and anything to keep their son safe too.
“But, Perry! He’s been seen in Sunnydale, California. If I go to Sunnydale, I can cover my story and him at the same time,” Lois exclaimed, nearly whining.
That made Clark jump in his seat. He’d been spotted in Sunnydale? After all the work he’d done to keep that secret, and he was still caught. Damn! And leave it to Lois to be the one to have figured it out too. How did she do that?
“Fine. You want to cover Superman and what he’s doing in Sunnydale? Then go. Go and take Kent with you,” Perry said. Pointing his finger at her, he laid down the law: “And you better have yourself another Pulitzer on your hands when you get back, you get me?”
“Thank you, Chief,” Lois breathed with relief. “Let me just call Richard so we can make arrangements with Jason—“
“He’s not going,” Perry stated matter-of-factly. “Only you and Kent. My two best reporters. Got it?”
Lois nodded, though Clark could see the hesitation now. He had to hand it to her. When she was Lois Lane the reporter, she was fearless, but when it came to Jason, their son, she was prone to worry and quite protective. She was gnawing on her bottom lip and he wanted to rush to comfort her and assure her that Jason would be fine with Richard, and it’d be much safer in Metropolis than it was in Sunnydale.
“Don’t worry so much Lane. I can take care of him too,” Perry assured her, taking on a gentler tone. “He is partly my blood too.”
Lois and Clark winced at that.
“Thanks, Chief,” Lois said, somewhat nervously.
“Call Kent in here would you?”
“Sure thing Chief.”
Clark sighed. Showtime.
“Having him around during patrol is sure helpful,” Buffy was telling Spike as she watched him putter around his crypt. She was currently sitting on a tomb, swinging her legs back and forth with a big, dreamy smile on her face. “I mean that flying thing really helps me get to them a lot quicker. Saves on the energy it takes to get across a cemetery to save a victim—“
“You complaining about doing your sacred duty?” Spike asked, stopping and quirking a brow.
Buffy rolled her eyes. “When do I not complain about that?”
Spike laughed, “Got a point there luv. Though I see you enjoy it sometimes.”
She shrugged, “I do. Sometimes.”
“Which part is your favorite? The hunt? The kill itself?” Spike asked, stalking towards her, leering.
Buffy had to smile. Leave it to Spike to get excited over talking about ‘hunting’ and ‘killing’. “Hmmm,” she murmured thoughtfully, rolling her eyes upwards before answering. “I like the feeling of knowing that I saved a life, or several lives.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “Oh please.”
“What?” Buffy asked defensively.
“You telling me you don’t enjoy the hunt? Or the kill? You enjoy it just as much as I – well, you know. That very PC answer was all because of the big blue boy scout.”
Buffy blinked. “The big blue boy scout? Did you just call Superman the—“
“Yes, I did!” Spike exclaimed. “I dared be derogatory toward Mr. Perfect. You know, he really does have lifts on those boots of his. And what grown man has an outfit like that?”
“That’s rich coming from you,” Buffy retorted. “Like the black on black isn’t your costume. I think color is your kryptonite.”
Spike waved a hand dismissively. “I can wear color. I’m just not going to wear spandex for Christ’s sake.”
“Why not? You could wear an all black spandex suit and have a big red S for Spike. Even a red cape, just like Superman’s. Your clothes now are practically welded onto you now, what would be the difference?”
Spike leered at her, “Checking me out, luv?”
She snorted, “Hardly. It’s kind of hard not to notice how tight your clothes are. I’d think they were cutting off your circulation if you weren’t already dead and didn’t have to worry about such things.”
“It’s okay, luv, you can admit you check me out.”
“Here we go with this again. No, Spike, I admit nothing.”
Spike shrugged, “Suit yourself.”
“You should let him take you up, it’s really cool—“
“All right, that’s it!” Spike exclaimed. “If all you’re going to do is prattle on about bloody Superman, then get out. You’re giving me a bleedin’ headache. I’ve heard beat all about him for a week now. I’m tired of it.”
Scowling, Buffy jumped down from the tomb and marched across the crypt towards the exit/entrance.
“Buffy—“ Spike said, and it sounded like regret in his voice.
“Goodbye Spike! See you later!” Buffy yelled to him and continued on. “Stupid vampire,” Buffy muttered to herself as she stalked across the cemetery. “Great, now what am I going to do?” Stopping, she considered just going back to Spike’s and ceasing with the Superman talk. “Nope, not going to give him that satisfaction. So, I’ll . . . look for Luthor.”
“My God, this place is hot! It’s hotter than hell,” Lois muttered as she dumped her suitcase on the bed. “Welcome to Sunnydale Inn. We definitely need the AC.”
Clark hid a grin as he settled his things down on his own bed, just a few feet from Lois’ bed. He was thinking of how Spike always called Sunnydale, Sunnyhell. Lois had hit the nail on the head it would seem. He cleared his throat as he watched her lean over the AC in the window, fiddling with it. Even though he was “not one of them”, he was still a man with needs, wants and desires, and looking at Lois bent over with her skirt accentuating her rounded bottom, had Clark reeling. How in the hell was he going to spend however long it took to get this “Pulizter” done without a)letting her know who he really was and b) tackling her in his bed to relive the time they conceived Jason? This arrangement was bound to test his restraint and his ability to play both men with a select crowd that would pick up on his absences as Clark quicker than ever before. That Buffy and Spike were smart as whips; his fear lay with them more than Lois. However, now. . .
“Okay, got it,” Lois said and straightened. “Okay, first things first, I call home and check on Jason. Second, we find Buffy Summers.”
Clark nearly choked, “What? Who is that?”
“The blond Superman has been seen with. When I saw the pictures of him in Sunnydale, I cross referenced the picture of her with the Sunnydale High yearbook for the past five years. Miss Summers was the woman he was with and I, for one, plan to find out why.”
Clark gulped as Lois headed for the phone. Oh boy.