Episode #7: To Catch a Falling Star

Summary: A serial killer is murdering women in Metropolis, and
not even Superman can catch up with him. Meanwhile, Star is
having strange dreams. Can Lois and Clark figure out the truth
before anyone else is killed? (Episode # 7 of The Unaired Fifth
Season)

***

Metropolis was just settling in for another evening rush hour.
Though the sun was still above the western horizon and could be
seen reflecting off the tops of the highest buildings, the
streets were hidden in the shadows of twilight. The lights on the
globe of the Daily Planet flickered on as the city eased into
darkness, announcing to the world that business at the paper
never slept. A few blocks from there were Lois and Clark,
leisurely strolling down the street, hand in hand.

"We did Chinese Monday night, and last night we did Italian,"
Lois explained.

"And you don't like Mexican," Clark added.

Lois looked at Clark. "That's not true."

"Oh, then let's see. Do you like enchiladas?"

"No."

"Do you like burritos?"

"No. Too dry."

"Fajitas?"

"No."

"What about ..."

"I like tacos," interrupted Lois. "Those are Mexican."

"Really?" asked Clark. Then without waiting for a reply, he
asked, "Do you feel like tacos tonight, because I know this
great little Mexican ..."

"No," Lois cut off Clark in a sing-song tone of voice.

Clark sighed heavily. "Then what?"

"I don't know, I could really go for ..." Lois' voice drifted
off as she slowly stopped in front of a shop window.

Clark looked up and saw the sign that read, "The Baby Basket."
He looked back to Lois, then inside the window, and walked up
behind his wife.

"Oh Clark, look at all the cute baby things," Lois crooned at
the window. "What an adorable baby blanket, and -- oh, look.
Look at the silver rattle over there on the left." She pointed
to a gleaming silver rattle, almost the shape of a mini barbell.
It was tucked in with a crib comforter which had tiny teddy bears
in a sea of pastel colors on it. They both stood there for a few
moments admiring the items in the window.

"Clark? You think we'll ever have a baby of our own?" Lois
looked at her husband's reflection in the window. Even there, in
the reflection, she could see his quiet strength, his
invulnerable constitution, and it still amazed her that she
hadn't seen it before a few years ago.

"I don't know," came Clark's soft answer in her ear. "If
what Dr. Klein said is true ..."

"I know. But he could be wrong, couldn't he?" her voice almost
pleaded.

Clark shrugged his shoulders. "He's been wrong before, but
..."

"But that doesn't happen very often," Lois finished for him.

She turned her attention back to the baby rattle, envisioned a
little s-shield engraved on it, and continued, "What I wouldn't
give for him to be wrong."

"Well, I meant to tell you last night, but that private adoption
agency we were looking into called, and they are willing to
accept our application and start the ball rolling." Clark
watched his wife's reflection in the glass closely for her
reaction.

A half smile twisted onto Lois' mouth. "They'll probably just
reject us later as too risk-intensive to be good parents, just
like what's-her-name from Good Beginnings."

"Lois, that woman was nuts," Clark stated.

At that moment, the door to the shop opened with the ringing of a
bell, and a woman walked out pushing a stroller in front of her.
Both Lois and Clark watched her as she looked both ways, then
started to cross the street. A horrible screeching of tires
erupted around the corner, and a taxi cab was soon barreling down
the street, headed directly for the woman and her baby.

In a flash, Clark was gone and Superman was on the scene. He
swooped down in front of the cab, placed his hands on the black
and white hood, stopping the cab before it could hit the woman
and the stroller.

"Oh thank you, Superman, thank you!" The woman pulled her baby
out of the stroller and hugged him close. "You saved us both,
thank you!"

"You're welcome," Superman said, then turning to the cab
driver who had stepped out of the car, he said, "You should
drive more carefully, especially during rush hour." After a
quick inspection of the cab with his x-ray vision, he added,
"And you might want to have your brakes checked."

The cabby just scratched his head and looked bewildered. He
nodded dumbly to Superman's instructions as he glanced at the
woman's baby. Superman shook his head, and took off into the
sky, and was gone. Seconds later, Clark was trotting down the
street towards Lois, straightening his tie.

"That cab driver almost killed that woman and her baby," Lois
stated. "What would have happened if you hadn't been here to
stop it?"

"But I was here to stop it," Clark stated, "and everything
turned out fine." Again, Clark's head shifted up and he got
that distant look in his eyes.

"What is it now?" asked Lois, strain creeping into her voice.

"A kid over in the park. I should only be a minute," answered
Clark, and in a whoosh, he was gone, only to be back about a
minute later. "A little girl was climbing a tree and lost her
hold. I caught her before she fell."

"Oh." Lois was staring hard at Clark. "What if you hadn't
been there? That little girl probably would have fallen and
broken something, maybe even her neck."

"But I was there, Lois," Clark repeated.

"Clark, even you can't be everywhere at the same time. Who's
to say you won't be off in Tibet helping to save millions of
people from earthquake damage, and our child could be falling
from a tree and possibly break his, or maybe her, neck?"

"Lois?" Clark looked at Lois with concern.

"I mean, is it really such a good idea to bring a child into
this world? It's so ... dangerous."

Clark took Lois into his arms. "I will always be here for you
and any child we might have." Lois was pushing her face into
Clark's chest when his head lifted again as he heard something.
"Lois, I have to go again." Clark gently pushed Lois away.

"Not again. This is the third thing in less than five minutes."
Lois let out an exasperated sigh.

"I can't help it." Clark shrugged, indicating that he also
didn't know why he was so busy.

"Take me with you," Lois demanded.

"Lois," Clark's voice warned.

"Take me with you," she repeated. "I want to spend some time
with my husband, and if I have to go with you on every rescue
tonight, then so be it."

Clark rolled his eyes and started to protest, but knew better. He
grabbed her shoulders, held her close, and after briefly looking
around to see if anyone was looking directly at them, he whooshed
them into the air.

Superman landed in a dark alley with Lois in his arms. He gently
put Lois down, then rushed over to figure lying on the ground.

It was a woman, probably in her early twenties, dressed in skin-
tight, hot-pink pants, a bright yellow shirt, with a black
leather jacket and black leather pumps. All of it was smeared
with blood from various knife wounds on her neck and torso, and
the cause of death was obvious. Her blond, curly hair was matted
with blood and dirty from lying in the street, and her heavily
made up face was smudged, making it hard to tell where her
lipstick ended and the blood began. Her eyes were wide open with
an empty stare full of terror.

"She's dead," Superman announced after checking for a pulse in
her limp wrist.

"Who could do such a thing?" asked Lois, turning away for a
moment, unable to look at the bloody mess.

Superman x-rayed the victim briefly, and beneath the blood that
had welled on her chest and abdomen, he could see what had been
done. "Her throat was slit, and she was cut open from her chest
to her ... privates." A shiver ran down his spine at how
gruesome the murder before him was. He glanced around the alley,
starting to look for the killer, when he heard a small noise come
from Lois.

"Lois?" He asked tentatively, moving towards her. "What is
it?"

"Oh, Clark. If I hadn't slowed you down, you probably would
have been here on time," she practically sobbed. "It's
probably all my fault she's dead."

They were still alone in the alley. Superman moved closer to Lois
and pulled her to his chest and held her tight. "It's not your
fault. It could never be your fault." Lois clung to the super
hero, her tears lost on the s-shield. After a few moments,
Superman pushed her gently away.

"People are coming. We need to call the police," Superman
explained.

Lois sniffed, then reached for her bag and pulled out her
notepad. "You're right, Clark. You go change and call the
police, I'll start working on our next story."

Superman hesitated. "You okay?" Her hand covered her mouth as
she nodded. "I'll be fine. Now go."

Superman was gone.

***

The elevator doors inside the Daily Planet's newsroom slowly
slid open and Lois and Clark walked out. The room was still busy
with activity, but most of the reporters had gone home, and the
print staff was gearing up for the morning edition. Perry White
saw the two of them as they descended the stairs, and cut them
off before they could reach their desks.

"I see working an eight hour day isn't enough for you two. I
thought you were going out to dinner. Jiminey, you two deserve
some personal time together."

"Hi, Perry," greeted Lois quietly. "We were on our way to
dinner when ..." her voice dropped off as she remembered the
dead woman. Even though Clark assured her it wasn't her fault
that the woman was dead, she still felt, deep down, that the
woman might still be alive if she hadn't forced Clark to take
her with him.

"When we found a woman knifed to death in an alley," Clark
finished for her.

"Any witnesses?" asked Perry, glancing at Lois, and shifting
his gaze back to Clark.

"No. Superman was there, and he couldn't find anything or
anyone who could have murdered her. Then I went to call the
police, and Lois stayed to take notes," Clark further
explained.

Lois shook off her feelings of guilt, and let the reporter inside
take over. "Her name was Candy Thomas, and she looked to be a
prostitute. She was probably walking home from a job. The police
checked for finger prints and other evidence and found none. It
was just a murder. She wasn't robbed, or at least it looked like
she wasn't robbed, because there was over a hundred dollars
still in her purse."

"Huh," was all Perry said as he listened to his two prize
winning reporters tell their gruesome story.

"The interesting thing was how she was murdered," Clark
continued.

"I don't think 'interesting' is the right word here, Clark,"
Lois corrected. "Maybe horrifying, grisly, or even offensive."

Clark nodded his agreement. "The medical examiner who showed up
on the scene said that her throat had been slit first, and then
the rest was done afterwards, probably while she was still
aware."

"Judas priest," exclaimed Perry. "It's not enough to just
kill someone nowadays, but now they have to rearrange ..."

"Perry, please." Lois looked a little green around the edges.

"Oh, sorry," Perry looked at Lois, a little surprised. "I
didn't think there was anything that could gross you out. All
the same, this guy had to be able to sneak up on her and catch
her unaware in order to pull this off."

"Or maybe the victim knew her killer," suggested Lois.

"Maybe," started Clark. "But that alley was dark. Someone
could have hidden in the shadows and snuck up on her from
behind."

"It seems that the two of you have work to do, and I'll leave
you all alone to write this story. Think you can get something
ready for the morning edition?" Perry looked from one to the
other. Lois and Clark glanced at each other, then both turned to
Perry and nodded.

"Good. I love a late-breaking story." Perry started to turn
away, then turned back to them. "But don't stay here too late.
You still have a dinner date to go on." With that he smiled and
walked away.

Lois reached into her bag and pulled out her notepad as she said,
"Well, we better start writing."

The phone on Lois' desk rang, and Lois picked it up on the
second ring.

"Daily Planet. This is Lois Lane."

"Hi Lois. This is Star. I'm so glad I found you," came Star's
excited voice over the phone.

Lois covered the mouth piece with her hand and whispered to
Clark, "It's Star."

"Star?" Clark mouthed and Lois continued to listen to the voice
on the phone, the words racing into her ear.

"I tried calling your new home. Oh, congratulations, by the way
on your marriage. Clark's a really cute guy. Anyway, you
weren't home, so I thought I would try the Daily Planet. If I
hadn't found you there, I don't know where I would have looked
next. Maybe I would have run outside and yelled help to get
Superman's attention, because he always seems to know ..."

"Star. Slow down," Lois said, interrupting Star's rambling
monologue. "What's up?"

"I'm glad you asked," Star continued. "Well, I've got this
new job, and I really like it. One day while I was working ...
well, I haven't been feeling myself lately, and ... I could
really use someone to talk to."

Lois started to protest. "Well, Clark and I are working on this
..."

"Please. Don't say no. Could you come over? Just for a little
while?" Star practically begged.

Lois put her hand over the mouthpiece again. "She wants me to go
visit her," she whispered to Clark. "Says she's not feeling
well."

"You go ahead. I'll write the story," Clark responded.

"You sure? I wouldn't want to leave you with all ..."

"I'm sure," interrupted Clark, nodding his head for emphasis.

Lois let out a deep sigh. "Okay, but only for a little while.
I'll be over in a few minutes," Lois spoke into the phone.

"Oh, thank you, Lois!" Lois could hear the relief in Star's
voice. "I'll turn the light on for you."

Lois hung up the phone and grabbed her coat. She picked up her
notepad and handed it to Clark. "Here are my notes. I shouldn't
be long."

"Take your time. I'll finish up here with a little help from
super speed, and I'll meet you home later. Maybe we can watch a
movie or something." Clark winked.

"Or something," Lois repeated, a little mischief in her voice,
then leaned in to give her husband a kiss.

***

Lois raised her hand to knock on the door to Star's apartment,
and it opened before her knuckles touched the wood.

"Hi," Lois said. "Was my brain broadcasting that I was
here?"

"Uh, hi, Lois." Star seemed distracted. "Oh, no, I saw you
walk up the front steps." She walked away from the door, leaving
it open, her hand sliding from the knob.

Lois invited herself in and closed the door behind her. "How are
you feeling?" she asked as she followed Star into the living
room. She glanced around the room, decorated in a somewhat
eclectic fashion. There was a wind chime in the window with stars
and moons hanging from a sun, an orange lamp shade with black
fringe, a brass Chinese incense burner, and even a crystal ball
on a desk cluttered with papers and books. The book on top was
entitled "Astral Traveling and You."

"I'm feeling okay. You?" Star wandered about her apartment,
looking lethargic, slowly lifting magazines, articles of
clothing, looking on the floor and under the furniture.

"Missing something?" Lois inquired, confused with Star's
sudden change from her excitement on the phone, to the detached
mood she was in now.

"An earring. I lost it sometime today."

Lois held up a white paper bag she had been holding and showed it
to Star. "I brought ice cream. It's Choco Chocolate Monster
Chip. I thought you might like some."

Something Lois said snapped Star out of whatever spell had come
over her. "Lois! Oh, you came! I was craving Choco Chocolate
Monster Chip ice cream ... and a half yard of ale, though I'm
not really sure what a half yard is. You never told me you were
psychic."

Lois' brow furrowed. "I'm not. It's my favorite flavor and I
like it when I'm not feeling quite myself."

"Oh," replied Star, puzzled. "Well, let's get some bowls and
dive in. I'm so glad you came. I've been feeling weird lately,
you know, stomach aches, headaches, kinda like when you have PMS,
you know, the week before when your seratonin levels are down and
you snap at everyone who comes near you and you are just
generally ..."

"Star!" Lois broke in, "That's why I'm here."

"You're not feeling well either?"

"No, because you're not feeling well and you asked me to come
visit."

"Right. I did." Star fumbled with some brightly colored bowls
and spooned some of the ice cream into each. "Let's sit here in
the kitchen. My living room looks like my sister's bedroom."

The two sat down, each with a bowl of ice cream. Lois dug in and
took a bite, and Star just swirled her spoon around. The silence
between them was thick and uncomfortable. Puzzled by Star's
behavior, Lois watched Star for several long minutes before
asking her next question.

"So, you mentioned on the phone that you got a new job," Lois
stated, breaking the silence and hoping to get Star talking
again.

Star looked up from her ice cream and Lois could see her eyes
snap into focus. "A new job. Yes, I did! It's really great too.
I'm working at the university helping out with history
research."

"History?" Lois seemed surprised. She scooped another spoonful
of ice cream into her mouth.

"Yeah. I've been helping one of the history professors research
old England. We started around the early 1600s, and we've been
working our way to the present."

Lois smiled. "You must really know your away around the library
by now."

A look of confusion crossed Star's face, then changed to
understanding. "No, no. He already knows everything that is
written in books. No. The professor and I are going to the source
for more detailed information."

Now it was Lois's turn to look confused. "The source? You've
been traveling to England?"

"You could say that. Old England, to be exact." Star finally
took a bite of the quickly melting substance in her bowl.

"This is really good," she mumbled around the ice cream filling
her mouth.

*Old England. Historian. He,* Lois thought, beginning to wonder
if Star was talking about H.G. Wells and his time machine. How
could she have come in contact with him?

Star's voice broke in on Lois' thoughts. "The professor tells
me the name of someone that lived during a certain time period in
a certain place in England, and I call upon the spirit and
channel the person for him, so he can ask the spirit questions
about the time."

"Like you did for Clark when he needed help with the Dead Sea
Scrolls," Lois remembered out loud the time she and Clark were
investigating Larry Smiley.

"Uh-huh. It's really cool. We've talked to some interesting
people during that time. You know, this is the first time I truly
feel like I'm using my gift to really help people, and it
doesn't hurt that the pay is good and steady," Star explained
around another mouthful of ice cream.

Lois slowly put another spoonful into her mouth, and let the
spoon linger there as she considered what Star was telling her.
She wondered what reputable historian would use a psychic
channeler as a source for information. She could see it in the
footnotes of some historic journal; Psychic Channeling by Star.
Even if the information was correct, no one would listen to him.
He'd be the laughing stock of community. Again Star barged in on
Lois' thoughts. "You're wondering who would use a psychic as a
source for historical information."

"I ... no ... I was ..." Lois stammered, frustrated that Star
had been able to read her so easily.

"Lois, remember I told you your brain is like a cheap TV, lots
of static, but broadcasting loudly." Star looked Lois straight
in the eyes. Lois wondered if Star had any aluminum foil she
could borrow.

Star could see Lois's discomfort. "It's okay, Lois. I know
that not everyone holds a lot of respect for people like me. Hey,
it's part of being a psychic. The professor sees things
differently, and he's been able to verify a lot of the things we
have discovered through my channeling."

"Hmmm," Lois mumbled. "So what happened? You said that you
weren't feeling well."

Star hesitated for a moment, then put another spoonful of ice
cream in her mouth. Slowly she swished it around, then swallowed
it, before she answered Lois's question.

"During one of the sessions, I had just called up someone for
the professor, and at first it was going well, then I got this
horrible headache and I felt sick to my stomach, and now it
won't go away. It comes and goes in horrible waves, and I just
don't feel like myself."

*Is it contagious?* Lois thought to herself, then banished the
thought as fast as she could so that Star wouldn't "hear".

"Have you been to see a doctor?" Lois asked.

"No," came Star's simple answer.

"Well, maybe you should, and maybe you should stop channeling
for a while. It's probably not helping," Lois suggested.

Star sighed. "You're probably right."

Lois looked at her now empty bowl, then back at Star. "I have to
run. Sorry I can't stay longer, but it's been a long day, and
tomorrow promises to be even longer."

Star's eyes slowly drifted up to look at Lois. "No, go. It was
very sweet of you to come, and I really appreciate it. And I will
take your advice, I promise."

"Anytime," Lois smiled.

They both got up from the table, and Star walked Lois to the
door. "You know, this old brownstone isn't the same without you
living here," Star stated with a sigh.

"Well, we'll just have to visit more often. Maybe Clark and I
could have you over for dinner sometime," Lois proposed.

"Yes, that would be nice." Star leaned over and hugged her
friend. "Thank you again for coming."

"You're welcome." Lois squeezed back, and then pulled away and
headed out the door. "See you later. Feel better."

***

Lois scrambled with her keys, carefully keeping her bag on her
shoulder and a sack of groceries from falling as she unlocked the
door to the apartment. Once unlocked, she pushed the door open
with her foot and edged inside, closing it with the same foot.

"Hi honey," she puffed, as she dropped her jacket and bag on
the floor where she stood. "I stopped at the store to pick up
some food, since it doesn't look like we'll make it to dinner
tonight."

"How's Star?" inquired Clark as Lois started towards the
kitchen with the groceries. She looked over at Clark for the
first time and realized he wasn't actually sitting on the couch.
He was floating on his side with his hand supporting his head,
about two feet off the floor, with the television on to the late
night news. She stopped and smiled, shaking her head, then
continued on to the kitchen.

"She was really weird," she yelled from the kitchen.

"How so?" asked Clark, still hovering in front of the
television. The weather report was coming on. "She's already
pretty weird."

"You know how she usually talks a mile a minute, straying down
some tangent and you have to pull her back?"

"Yes."

"Well she was like that about half the time I was there. The
other half, she was almost like she was sedated. When I walked in
the door, it was if she didn't remember asking me to come over,
and then a minute later, it was like I had just arrived and she
realized I was there." Lois moved about the kitchen putting
things away, reaching into cupboards, opening and closing the
refrigerator, etc. She left out a block of cheese, a pepperoni
stick, and a box of crackers.

"You mentioned before you left that she said she wasn't feeling
well. Maybe she's just under the weather. I know you're not
quite yourself when you're ill," Clark reasoned.

Lois poured a couple of glasses of white wine, grabbed a wooden
cutting board and the food she had left out, and headed into the
living room. "Maybe. It just seemed weirder than normal, even
for Star." She placed everything down on the coffee table.
"Dinner is served."

"Yum," Clark floated into a sitting position and lowered
himself onto the couch. "You're usual gourmet cooking, I see."
Lois looked indignant. "I don't see you in the kitchen slaving
away."

"I'm kidding," he teased, as he stood up, grabbed Lois around
the waist, and pulled her down next to him on the couch. Lois
fell into her husband with a tiny squeal. She started to protest,
but Clark cut her off with a passionate kiss to the lips.

A commercial for some pizza place came onto the television, with
loud annoying sounds, and broke the mood. The two separated, and
reached down for some cheese and crackers.

"Did you guys talk about anything in particular?" Clark queried
further. He picked up a knife and started slicing the pepperoni
stick.

"Yeah. She mentioned she's doing research with a history
professor at the university on the history of England."

"History?" Clark asked, an eyebrow raised in doubt.

"That's what I said. She's been channeling people out of
England's past so that this historian can ask them questions.
Hey, she seems to enjoy it, and she said she feels like she's
finally doing something useful with her special talents."

"Well, good for her." Clark was going to say more, but a news
flash on the television broke in and caught both their
attentions.

"... in an alley between Bourbon and Santos streets, a woman was
found stabbed to death. We're going live to the scene."

"Is this the one we found earlier?" Lois asked.

Clark shook his head. "This looks like it just happened, or it
would have been one of their leading stories."

"You didn't hear anything?" Lois asked with a concerned look
on her face.

"No. I heard a couple of other cries for help, and rescued a car
with a family of four from falling off the Metropolis bridge, and
an old woman from having her purse stolen. Nothing else." The
two sat and listened further.

"Just a few minutes ago, a man on the street discovered a woman
stabbed to death in the alley just behind me. She did not have
any identification on her, and no one on the scene seems to know
her. If you have any information that can help with the
identification of this murder victim ..."

Lois didn't need to hear more. She walked over to the door, put
on her coat and picked up her bag. She then raised her arms and
announced, "Let's go. We've got a story to write."

Clark got up with a smile, spun into Superman, then reached over
and clicked off the TV. He walked over to Lois, gently picked her
up, then whooshed them both out the window.

***

The normally dark alley was brightly lit with the headlights of
the ambulance, the many police cars, and the camera crews. The
flashing red and blue lights alternately bounced off the walls of
the surrounding buildings, while the murmur of hushed voices
filled the confined space.

Lois walked up to the crime scene, pushed her way to the front,
stating her position with the Daily Planet the whole way. The
people parted to let her through, some recognizing who she was,
others recognizing the name of the newspaper. Superman swooshed
to the ground just inside the yellow tape barriers set up, and
the officer who seemed to be in charge briskly walked over to
him.

"Superman, I don't know how much you can help. The woman looks
like one of the local call girls, though no one can say for sure
who she is," the officer explained. "When we got here, there
was no sign of anyone ever being here, no fingerprints, nothing,
only this mess. Her throat was sliced open, and then the killer
removed her liver."

"Her liver," Superman half asked, half stated. The officer
looked at the super hero. "What would he want with her liver?"

Lois had pushed her way under the barriers, and quickly
approached Superman and the officer.

"Ms. Lane," the officer greeted.

"Is this like the one earlier today?" inquired Lois.

Superman nodded. "A dead prostitute cut up pretty badly, only
this one is missing her liver."

Lois held her hand to her mouth, then took a deep breath and
regained control of the revulsion churning in her stomach. "Was
she robbed?" Lois asked the officer.

"Not that we could tell," answered the officer. "She still had
some valuables on her when the M.E. checked her out."

At the mention of the medical examiner, Lois looked around for
one, spotted a white lab coat, and headed in that direction.
"I'm gonna take a look around. See if I can see anything,"
announced Superman, and with a whoosh he was airborne.

The officer stood there for a second and watched Superman
disappear into the night sky above, then moved to follow the
reporter.

Lois tapped the M.E. on the shoulder. "Excuse me. Lois Lane.
Daily Planet. Can you tell me anything about how the woman was
murdered?"

The M.E. just glanced at Lois, and then walked away.

"Hey, wait a minute, come back ..." she started indignantly,
when someone touched her shoulder. She spun around and saw a
familiar face. "Inspector Henderson."

"Ms. Lane," he greeted. "This is a police matter, and you
really shouldn't get involved."

"I'm already involved. Clark and I found a woman similarly
murdered earlier today, and now I'm trying to find out if we
have a serial killer on the loose," she pointed out to the
inspector.

"That was you and Kent who reported it?" Henderson asked. Lois
nodded. "I just got thrown onto this case a half hour ago, and
haven't had a chance to review the files yet."

"Well, that's not my problem. There are obvious similarities
between the two cases. Both women, both hookers, both ... sliced
and diced, and neither was robbed. Do you know when this woman
died?" Lois asked.

Henderson grabbed the M.E., who came over and stood between the
inspector and the reporter. He gave Lois a sidelong glance, then
addressed Henderson. "Inspector. What can I do you for?"

"Do you have an estimated time of death?" Henderson asked. The
M.E. scanned his notes on the clipboard he was carrying.

"Based on body temperature and settling, I would say around
10:45 this evening."

That's only a few minutes after I left Star's apartment, Lois
thought to herself. "I was out walking to the market when this
happened," she whispered out loud.

"A practice I would stop for now until we catch this guy,"
Henderson recommended.

There was a movement of air, and Superman floated down to the
ground, joining the little group. "A good idea, even though this
guy seems to like prostitutes, and Lois doesn't fit into that
category."

"True," Lois said, nodding slightly. A tiny smile crept across
her face and her eyes came up to meet Superman's. He obviously
recognized the mischief he saw there, and knew exactly what it
meant. "Lois," Superman warned. "This guy is too dangerous to
be considering what you're considering." "What?" Lois replied
innocently. She glanced from Superman to Henderson, their faces
wrought with serious concern, and sighed heavily. "Well ...
okay. I won't go undercover, but only because ... because ...
you asked me not to," she said, directing the last part toward
Superman. "Smart choice," muttered the inspector. "Smart
choice."

The street vendor was all ready to make their usual orders when
Lois and Clark walked up. "Two coffees, one regular with cream
and four sugars, one decaf, low-fat milk, no sugar," he said
with a smile.

"No, make mine a regular, this morning, Raul," Lois corrected.

"Late night?" Raul asked conversationally.

"You could say that," responded Lois. She then glanced about
the street full of people scurrying to work, bundled in their
winter coats already. A little gust of wind blew up her dress and
she pulled her long brown coat closer around her legs.

"How do you do it?" she asked Raul.

Both the vendor and her husband looked at her with one question
in their eyes. "Do what?"

Lois sighed. "It's freezing out here. You're the only street
vendor left in all of Metropolis. Not that I mind, mind you, you
make the best coffee in the city ..."

"And he's right outside the Daily Planet," added Clark with a
smile.

"Yeah, that too," Lois conceded, "but don't you have a winter
job or something?" Just then, someone behind Lois sneezed loudly
and another went into a coughing fit. "All this weather is good
for is to make someone sick."

As Lois turned to go into the Daily Planet, Clark shrugged his
shoulders at the street vendor, and handed him some cash for the
coffee.

As Clark lightly jogged to catch up with his wife, Lois blurted
out, "You know, Clark, there are so many things in this world
you have to protect a baby from. The weather, colds, flu, chicken
pox, falling from trees, runaway cabs, kidnappers, mad
scientists, vampire wannabes, homicidal maniacs ..." Her voice
trailed off.

"Lois, that's just part of being a parent, and who knows if we
will ever be parents. Besides, I think you're being a little
paranoid." Clark knew he had said the wrong thing just from the
look on Lois's face.

"Paranoid!" she barked. "I think I have a right ..."

"I'm sorry," interrupted Clark. "It's just that I was never
sick as a child. If we are ever lucky enough to have one, maybe
he or she would be just as immune. And the other things Superman
can take care of. How do you think ordinary parents handle
raising kids in today's world?"

Lois, the burning in her eyes dying to a dull red, answered,
"Ordinary parents don't have their lives threatened as part of
their job description. Even you can't be everywhere at the same
time, like last ni -- " She stopped when she saw the hurt
reflected in Clark's eyes.

"I'm sorry. It was my fault that you didn't make it there in
time." Lois reached for Clark's hand and squeezed.

"No, Lois. You're were right the first time. It wasn't your
fault I didn't make it on time. I didn't even hear the second
one until it was on the news." He pulled his hand away and
walked towards the Daily Planet's revolving door. Lois grabbed
him and forced him to look at her. The immense Daily Planet globe
stood still above them, shading the morning sun and casting a
dark shadow across Clark's face.

"Clark ..." she started, but he cut her off.

"No, Lois. I've been thinking about this. There is a murderer
loose in this city, he's killed twice, and I can't even find a
clue as to who it is, never mind be there in time to stop it.
It's like I'm trying to catch a ghost."

Lois looked up into Clark's pain-ridden face, his brow furrowed
with intense emotion, all carefully contained. Her hand came up
to touch his face. "We'll figure it out. We always do, you and
I." Clark just looked at Lois, doubt reflected in his eyes.
"Come on, let's get to work on this." She turned him towards
the revolving door, tucked her hand inside his elbow, and they
both walked into the building.

***

The newsroom was bustling with activity. People were walking
everywhere, donuts and coffee in hand, the talk ranging from the
murders to Superman's inability to save the women. Some believed
that the streets would be a better place with the prostitutes
gone, while others found pity for the poor women forced into such
an awful profession because they had nothing and no one to take
care of them.

Lois took a sip from her coffee, slipped her coat off, and folded
it onto the back of her desk chair. Clark was already seated,
checking his phone messages. Both of them could hear Perry
yelling about something from within his office. Seconds later,
Jimmy exited the office.

"Morning Lois, CK," greeted Jimmy as he walked by them with a
box in his hands.

"G'morning, Jimmy," returned Clark.

"Hi," Lois said watching Jimmy blow by her. "When you're done
there, come back."

"Sure thing," Jimmy responded as he disappeared around the
corner.

Perry walked out of his office and headed straight for the two
reporters. "Lois! Clark! Can I talk to you a minute?" The two
turned around to face him, and he noticed the tired look in their
eyes. "Late night last night? You two finally go on that dinner
date?"

"No, Perry, we were at the murder scene of the second murder
last night, and by the time we got home, it was late," answered
Lois.

Perry nodded. "I heard about that last night and wondered if you
two would manage to get over there, and uh, well, I have to say,
you never disappoint me."

"Chief, it seems that both murders were done by the same person.
There are just too many similarities. They were both prostitutes,
both stabbed and mangled, and both weren't robbed," Clark
explained. "The only difference was that the second woman had
her liver removed.

"Uh, that was one of the reasons I came over here to talk to you
two. Inspector Henderson called just before you got in. Seems the
police received a letter late last night." The Editor in Chief
handed Lois a piece of fax paper. "He faxed me over a copy. He
said the original was written in red ink and that they couldn't
find any fingerprints."

Lois took the paper and started to skim it, her brows furrowed as
she found it difficult to read. "This is terrible," she said.
"Listen to this ..." Lois began to read the letter.

"After all these years, my knife is still nice and sharp. What
grand work last night's job was. Ha. Ha. Two little whores
ripped wit my knife, and I didn't even let one of em squeal. How
can they catch me know. I love my work and glad I have started
again. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I
do get buckled. The liver was very nice maybe I will try a kidney
next. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. Guess
who."

Lois lowered the paper. "This man is sick," she said with
disgust. "He obviously knows we don't have anything to go on,
and he's taunting us."

"Uh," Perry muttered as he listened intently. "Have either of
you talked to Superman? What does he think?"

Lois glanced at Clark, then replied, "He is just as baffled as
we are." She glanced back at Clark with apologetic eyes. "The
murderer is always long gone by the time he gets there, and
either the murderer's invisible, a ghost, or has a really good
hiding place.

"What are you planning to do next?" inquired Perry.

"We were just about to do some research, and see if there are
any similar cases in the past, and also call the police to see if
they have any other leads yet. I'll also try to contact Superman
to see if he's found anything new." Clark adjusted his glasses
in almost an absent- minded gesture. "He'll be interested to
know about the letter."

Lois looked directly into Clark's eyes and said, "He'll find
something. He always does." Clark could feel the confidence in
her words, and it made him feel warm inside. It reminded him of
how much he loved her. He turned his eyes toward Jimmy as he
walked up to join them.

Lois grabbed the young photographer's attention. "Jimmy, Clark
and I need for you to find everything you can on any serial
murder cases in the past that involved prostitutes who were
stabbed and mangled, possibly having organs like a liver or
kidney removed, and who weren't robbed."

"I'm on it", Jimmy replied, and he started to turn around to
leave.

"Oh, and," Lois grabbed Jimmy's arm. "Also see if the guy
wrote letters to the police, badly written ones, at that." Jimmy
nodded and ran off.

Perry chuckled softly at the way Lois took the reins and
controlled a situation. "All right. Well, let me know if
anything develops." The two nodded and Perry left them alone and
headed back to his office. Clark settled into his chair, picked
up the phone, and started dialing the police. Lois turned around
and dug into her bag, pulled out her notes from the previous
night and sat down to study them.

The elevator doors opened and Star burst out from within. She
practically ran to Lois's desk, seemingly frantic with fear in
her eyes.

"Star?" Lois asked, standing up to greet her friend. Clark
swiveled his chair around to see who was coming.

"Oh, Lois! Lois! Not right! Can't remember things. Scared!"
Star blurted incoherently.

Lois grabbed the psychic's shoulders and gently guided her into
her chair. "Star, calm down. I don't understand what you're
saying. Take a deep breath and start again."

Clark hung up the phone before anyone answered and came over to
join Lois. He knelt down next to the chair. Star turned to look
at him. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh, Clark!" Star cried. "Lois! Something's not right. I
can't remember things, how I got somewhere, where I had been."

Lois held Star's hands in her own and concern filled her
features. She waited for Star to continue.

"After you left last night, I felt so much better. I decided to
go to bed. I remember getting in bed, closing my eyes, and the
next thing I remember, I was outside the brownstone sitting on
the front step," Star explained. "It's kinda like when you
were a college student, and you go to your first frat party, and
they ask you if you want a beer, and you say no, because you
don't want to drink. So they offer you lemonade, and you
discover that after four or five that there is grain alcohol in
it, and you are so drunk that you don't remember how you got
back to your dorm or who the guy is in your ..."

"Star!" Lois and Clark said in unison, bringing Star back from
her wild tangent.

She smiled sheepishly. "Only I hadn't been drinking," she
added in a quiet voice.

"Are you still feeling sick?" Lois asked, recalling what Star
had told her the night before.

Star nodded slightly. "Ever since that day I channeled that
doctor guy for the professor."

"Doctor guy?" inquired Clark. "Can you tell us a little
more?"

Lois looked at her husband with a hint of curiosity in her
expression, then turned back to Star. "Tell Clark what you told
me," she encouraged.

Star looked from Lois to Clark, her eyes pleading for help.
"Well, I got this job working for Professor Greenwich, helping
him research English history. We started around the 1600s,
calling up the names of people who lived during those times, from
peasants to noblemen. I would channel them, and he would ask them
questions."

"Tell us about the last time you channeled," Clark prodded.

Stars eyes darted back and forth between the two. She clenched
Lois's hands tighter. "We were up to the 1800s. The professor
asked me to call up this doctor guy, um ..." Star hesitated and
gently knocked on her head with her hand. "Tumblety, I think
that was his name. Yes, Dr. Francis Tumblety. The professor
really wanted to talk to this guy because he was a bit of a
traveler. He had been to the United States, Canada, and various
parts of Europe, and the professor though the doctor could help
him compare England to other countries at the time." She
hesitated for a moment.

"Go on," Lois said softly.

The corners of Star's mouth turned up slightly. "Well, I
called, and he came ... and when he took over my body, well,
that's when I felt sick to my stomach. When he was gone, I got
this terrible headache that won't go away, and now I can't
remember where I went last night." Star started to cry and Lois
pulled her in for a hug. "I'm so scared," she mumbled into
Lois's shoulder. "Something's not right."

"Have you seen a doctor yet?" asked Lois.

Star shook her head. "Not yet, but I haven't done any more
channeling."

"Maybe you could see another psychic who has the same abilities
you do," Clark suggested.

"Yes," Lois agreed. She gently pushed Star away so she could
see her face. "Maybe another psychic will know what you are
going through and how to help you. Do you know anyone?"

Star brought her hand up to rub her nose and wipe her eyes. "I
do. I can call her."

Clark reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and
handed it to Star. She took it with thanks in her eyes, then blew
her nose loudly.

"How about I walk you home, and you can call your friend and get
some rest?" Lois offered.

Star nodded and slowly stood up with Lois supporting her elbow.
Clark grabbed Lois's coat and helped her with putting it on, and
kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

"I'll keep working on the story. You make sure Star is okay."
Clark gave Lois's hand a squeeze. "There's something I want to
check out." His hand came up and gently tugged on his tie.

Lois winked knowingly, and she then turned her attention back to
Star, and helped her to the elevator. Clark headed to the storage
room, tugging a little harder to remove the tie.

***

Superman flew in the sunny blue sky high above Metropolis, his
red cape flapping fiercely with his speed. He briefly surveyed
the city below, letting a brief moment of enjoyment slip in as
the wind softly buffeted him from below. It was cold, but it
didn't bother him. He loved the freedom he felt when he flew,
and no matter how often or for what reason he did it, it was
still his favorite power.

Having sighted the first murder scene, he angled down and was on
the ground in seconds. He took a moment to see if anyone was
around, then seeing no one, he spun back into his suit and tie.
He pulled his glasses from his pocket and placed them on his
face, completing the disguise, and making him less noticeable
than the flashy red, blue, and yellow of Superman. He wandered
over to the area marked off with the yellow tape, and slipped
underneath it into the crime area. He stepped up next to the
outline of the woman's dead body still marked on the ground,
dried blood staining the pavement. He knelt down and looked
closely, lowering his glasses slightly.

Nothing. The alley was like any other. It was full of trash, had
lots of dark crevices, corners, and doorways, and the killer
could have slipped into any one of them unnoticed. Clark walked
around, x-raying the piles of garbage, checking the doors which
he found all locked, and shook his head in puzzlement when
nothing obvious showed up. In his mind's eye, he remembered with
picture perfect clarity the night of the murder. He had checked
the alley for the murderer, and had found nothing. What did he
expect to find now? The question rolled over and over in his head
as his investigation continued to tell him nothing. He decided to
return to the spot where the woman was murdered, and as he walked
down the center of the alley, the sound of his footsteps echoed
off the walls. Then the sound changed. He looked down to see what
he had stepped on, and found a grate that led into the sewers.

Lowering his glasses, he looked past the grate into the mucky
sewer pipe, and something glittered. He tried to see it better,
but it was buried in mud and the grate, which contained lead, was
interfering with his vision. He reached down and tugged on the
grate, and found it to be lose, and removed it. He quickly
scanned the area for people, saw no one, and hovered down into
the sewer. Once at the bottom, he reached down and picked up the
glittering object. A few wipes with his fingers to remove the
muck revealed a gold earring, a woman's gold earring. He
pocketed the piece of jewelry, then scanned about for anything
else and found nothing more. The muck was too watery for
footprints too hold their form, and after looking up, Clark
realized that the earring probably fell through the grate, out of
reach of whoever lost it.

Having complete his search, he hovered back up into the alley,
and discovered a wino watching him, wide eyed. Before Clark could
put his feet back on the pavement, the wino was already shuffling
away, his dirty overcoat swishing behind him. Clark could hear
the poor man muttering to himself. "Man, I hav'ta give up'da
really cheap wine. It's a'makin' me hallucinate."

***

Clark casually strolled into the alley where the second woman was
murdered. The yellow tape fluttered lightly with the cool breeze
and Clark could easily spot the outline on the ground where the
woman had been. Again he lowered his glasses and microscopically
searched the ground around the area, x-rayed the buildings and
piles of garbage near by, and found nothing. He did find a grate,
similar to the other one, leading into the sewer. He reached down
to open it, and found that it was loose as well. A smile crept
across his face as he theorized how the killer had managed to get
away. He must have dropped down into the sewer, which would
explain why Superman hadn't seen anyone when he arrived. *Well,
not next time*, Clark thought to himself.

***

"Now don't forget to call a doctor, and that friend of yours,"
Lois reminded as she stood in the doorway to Star's apartment,
ready to leave with the doorknob in her hand.

"I promise, Lois," came Star's tired voice. "I promise."

"Okay. I'll call you later to see how you're doing. Bye."
Lois closed the door behind her, listening for the click on the
latch. She walked down the hallway, past the door to her old
apartment, then out the front door onto the street. She looked
back up at the window to Star's apartment and whispered quietly,
"Feel better."

***

Star watched as the door to her apartment closed and locked, then
turned and walked toward her bedroom. Her feet shuffled along the
floor, minus their usual spring, and her fingers rubbed her
temples in a circular motion. She stumbled on the carpet in the
hallway and caught herself just in time to avoid falling. She
managed to make it into her bedroom where she plopped down onto
the autumn colored quilt. Slowly she laid down on her side,
pulled her knees up to her chest and dragged the other side of
the quilt up over her body. She clung to the quilt with white
knuckled hands and pressed her eyes closed as if she were
watching some horror show. She silently prayed for sleep, and
within minutes, she was asleep. Her hands relaxed their grip and
her facial expression softened.

About five minutes later, her eyes flew open, wide and staring.
An expression of menacing anger crept into her facial features,
with her brows deeply furrowed and her eyes smoldering from
within. She rose from the bed and walked to the antique mirror
over her dresser and looked at the image she saw there. Her dark
curly hair was wild and out of control, her expression tainted
with a hint of pure evil, and her eyes, no longer a soft brown,
were pitch black. She studied her image for a moment, then lifted
her head up and laughed, but not with her voice. It was the voice
of a man.

***

"Please let me know if you find out anything new," Clark spoke
into the receiver, his desk covered with large maps of the sewers
under Metropolis. "Thanks." He hung up the phone and returned
to studying the maps. Lois exited the elevator and headed
straight for her desk, her long coat flowing out behind her.

"How's Star?" asked Clark, as Lois pulled off her coat and
threw it over the back of her chair.

"I'm worried, Clark," she said, without a simple greeting of
any sort.

"She'll be okay, once she gets the help she needs," Clark
soothed.

"What? No, I'm not talking about Star. I'm sure she'll be
fine too. I'm talking about this world and how dangerous it is.
How can we even be thinking about having a child, or even
adopting one? What makes us think that we can do this?"

Clark stood up, walked over and leaned against Lois's desk.
"What brought this on?"

"That woman last night was murdered while I was walking home.
And then I got to thinking about all the times you showed up just
in time to save me, not to mention all the times you needed
rescuing yourself. And what about if someone finds out that ..."
Then she whispered, "Superman," and continued normally, "...
has a child. He would become a target, and our lives would never
be the same."

"Lois, we took that same chance when we got married," Clark
reasoned. "What if someone found out 'Superman' had a wife?"
Clark also whispered the name of his alter ego.

"And look at our jobs. We're investigative reporters. We are
always getting into dangerous situations. Maybe we should
consider giving up this way of life, write the obituaries or the
movie reviews, and you give up being the Man of ..." she stopped
when she realized how ridiculous she sounded.

"Lois, you would never be happy unless you were crawling around
looking for the dirtiest dirt, and the world needs the Man of
Steel. If we do this, Lois, there will be changes in our lives,
but that doesn't mean we have to give up doing what we love
doing."

Lois looked down for a moment, then back up at Clark, her brown
eyes brimming with unshed tears. At that moment, Jimmy walked up
with his arms full of books, papers, and magazines. "Hi, guys.
Um, bad timing?" he added, seeing the two deep in conversation.

"No, Jimmy," Clark assured his young friend. "What have you
got for us?" Lois pulled away from Clark and turned her
attention toward Jimmy.

"Well, I really had to dig, and I mean dig. I had to go so far
back, it seemed like I was reading a history lesson," Jimmy
exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" Lois asked.

"Well I jumped onto the computer and tried to look up murder
cases in the last twenty years that fit the criteria you gave me;
women, prostitutes, stabbed and mutilated, even missing organs.
The only case that even comes close in the last twenty years was
Jeffrey Dahmer, and well, he wasn't picky. He killed anybody,
not just prostitutes."

"So ...," prodded Clark.

Jimmy shuffled through the papers, and handed Clark a sheet of
paper. "So I went back forty years, then a hundred. Then I told
it to search the last two hundred years, and I came up with
this." He pointed to the title on the page he had handed Clark.
Lois leaned into Clark and read over his shoulder, and they both
read the first few sentences on the page.

"Jimmy, this is about Jack the Ripper," Lois stated. "What has
this got to do ..." she stopped as she read further.

"This is incredible," Clark sighed as he continued to read.

Jimmy shrugged. "It's the only case that matches all the
criteria you gave me. He only killed women who were prostitutes,
he mutilated their bodies, and one case reported having the liver
removed. He even wrote letters to the police."

"But Jimmy, this guy is dead. No one can live that long, not
even Jack the Ripper," Lois said in disbelief.

"No, but someone could copy him," Clark theorized.

Jimmy nodded. "There's enough information out there on him."
Jimmy indicated the pile of stuff he had brought with him.
"There are all sorts of books, magazine articles, heck, even the
Internet is full of websites on the guy, listing all the possible
suspects, their life stories, all the victims, etc."

"That's true. No one knows who the Ripper really was, and
someone could be copying how he did things, claiming to be the
Ripper, giving the illusion that he is immortal." Clark flipped
through the sheets and scanned the pages for any relevant
information.

Both Lois and Clark stop reading when their eyes pass over the
names of all the possible Ripper candidates. "Clark, do you
..." Lois started.

"Yes. Dr. Francis Tumblety. He's on the list." Clark flipped
through a couple more sheets looking for any background on Dr.
Tumblety.

"He was one of the people suspected of being the Ripper," Jimmy
explained. "He had done a bit of traveling, but was in England
at the time of the murders, and was said to have hated women."
He reached over to the papers in Clark's hands, flipped a couple
of sheets, and pulled out four pieces of paper. "I got these off
the Internet. These are the actual letters he wrote to the
police."

Lois reached up and positioned the paper so she could read it,
caught her breath as she read the first few lines. Clark read the
first letter out loud.

"Dear Boss,

I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me
just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about
being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me
real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till
I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no
time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and
want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny
little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger
beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick
like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha.
The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the
police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter
back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My
knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I
get a chance. Good Luck.

Yours truly

Jack the Ripper"

Clark stopped reading and handed the sheets to Lois. "This is
just like..." he mumbled as he searched his desk for the faxed
letter that Perry had given them.

Lois read the last line of the Ripper's letter.

"PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink
off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha
ha"

"Clark, you don't think ..." Again, Lois stopped before
finishing, afraid of what her brain was telling her.

Clark shrugged his shoulders, then shook his head. "I just got
off the phone with the police, telling them that I thought the
killer might be a woman, instead of a man, and has been escaping
the murder scenes by using the sewers."

"What makes you think it might be a woman?" questioned Lois.

Clark reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold earring he
had found and held it out for his wife to see. "This."

Jimmy looked from Lois, to Clark, to the earring, and looked
totally confused.

"Where did you find that?" Lois further inquired, taking the
gold earring and looking at it more closely.

"In the sewer near where Candy Thomas was killed," explained
Clark.

Lois closed her hand around the earring and looked up towards the
ceiling, her mind working fast, putting her memories into proper
chronological order.

"I was at Star's apartment about an hour after the first murder
took place." She stopped and tried to remember her visit with
Star. "She was looking for an earring she had lost."

Clark shook his head. "A gold earring? This could be anyone's.
It may not even belong to the killer."

Lois shrugged. Jimmy stood there trying to piece together what it
was the two reporters were talking about.

"Star is not the type of person who would ever hurt anyone,"
Clark continued, though doubt was creeping into his voice.
"It's probably just a copycat killer, some mentally disturbed
person with a fascination for Jack the Ripper."

They both looked at the paper again in Clark's hands. Their eyes
fell on the name of Dr. Francis Tumblety again, and they noted
the date, the late 1800s; the same date as the Dr. Francis
Tumblety that Star said she was channeling for the history
professor. While the three of them stood there contemplating what
facts they had before them, evening had fallen upon Metropolis
and the lights in the newsroom had come up around them. The hum
of the Daily Planet had changed with the switch from the day
shift to the night shift, and none of it was noticed by the
three. It was a small cry for help, cut short, that penetrated
the Man of Steel's concentration.

"Lois, I almost forgot," Clark prompted, touching his tie, and
glancing at Jimmy. Lois, recognizing the look on her husband's
face and the touching of the tie, quickly thought up a lie.

"The dinner reservations. You'd better get down there and make
sure we get a table tonight."

Clark smiled, a "thank you" reflected in his eyes, and ran up
to the elevator, leaving Jimmy and Lois standing alone by Lois's
desk.

***

With a quake of thunder, Superman arrived on the scene, another
dark alley, only to find what he had found before. There, lying
in a shadowed corner, was a woman obviously knifed to death, and
no sign of the murderer.

"All right, I know you have to be here somewhere, and I know
where to look," he said into the darkness. Determination filled
his voice in an effort to convince his mind that he would succeed
before the next victim died. The three women he had been unable
to save weighed heavy on his mind, and he had begun to doubt his
own ability to be there for Lois and any child they might bring
into the world.

He shook off the thoughts and his own doubts and quickly searched
the alley. As before, there was a grate in the pavement. He
grabbed one of the cross bars, easily removed it, and flew down
into the sewers. Quickly his eyes adjusted to the pitch blackness
in the large pipes of the sewer. He discovered that the murderer
had planned well this time. He was standing in the junction of
several pipes, and the water and muck in the pipes was loose
enough not to hold footprints.

He concentrated on listening, turning up his hearing to see if he
could pick up any sound of the murderer escaping. As the levels
rose within his ears, all he could hear was running water, rats
scurrying from pipe to pipe, and the footsteps and voices of the
onlookers gathering around the woman's body above. A frustrated
sigh escaped his lips as he switched to x-ray vision, only to
find the pipes must have been old, because they contained lead.

"I just can't seem to win," he said with an exasperated sigh.
In a blur of red, blue and yellow, he flew from pipe to pipe, the
sonic boom he created vibrating the street above, and still he
found nothing. He flew up through the open grate to the street
level and noticed that a rather large crowd had gathered, as well
as Lois, Jimmy, Inspector Henderson, and a medical examiner. The
lights of an ambulance and a couple of police cars illuminated
the alley, chasing the darkness away into obscure hiding places.

"Superman," came Lois's voice from the crowd. She stepped
around the body and started to walk over to him, followed by
Jimmy and Henderson.

"Did you find anything?" Lois asked, glancing at the open grate
behind Superman. Superman looked at Lois and could tell from the
look on her face that she had read his own expression, enough for
her to know that he hadn't found anything, and that he was
frustrated by it all.

"No, huh?" she more confirmed instead of asked.

"That sucks," added Jimmy. "It's hard to believe ..." he
stopped, seeming to realize that what he was going to say next
wasn't appropriate.

"All of the evidence is the same, only the woman is different,"
explained Inspector Henderson. "A prostitute, her throat slit
and her torso ripped open. At least this one still has all her
parts."

Lois looked thoughtful for a second, her brow slightly furrowed.
"Maybe he," she paused, then continued, "or she didn't have
enough time ... you know, Superman got here too fast. If only we
could know ahead of time when and where the next strike was going
to be."

"Well, I'm going to keep searching," Superman announced, and
with a whoosh and a thunder clap, he flew up into the night sky
and was gone.

"I sure hope he finds something," the inspector murmured, half
to himself, half to the Man of Steel, high in the sky above
them.

"He must be bummin'," Jimmy expressed. Lois looked at him, and
he continued, "He usually catches the bad guy before things get
this bad."

"Jimmy, he ..." she stopped before she said anything to let him
and the inspector know that she knew more about Superman than she
should have. She took a deep breath. "He'll find the murderer,
don't worry. He's getting closer, he just needs ..." Again she
stopped.

She shoved her notepad and pencil into Jimmy's unexpecting
hands. "Here, you stay here and take notes. I've got an idea."
She turned and started to leave, walking briskly to the alley
entrance.

"Lois, be careful," yelled Jimmy after her.

Henderson watched her disappear around the corner of the
buildings, and turned to look at the young photographer. "Does
she know what she's doing?" he asked.

Jimmy shrugged and the inspector shook his head.

***

The shadows cast by the old style street lights appeared to have
a life of their own, swinging and swaying, seeming to be trying
to lure Lois into some unknown danger. Even the old brownstone
where she used to live loomed over her with an almost menacing
face made up of windows and doors. She hesitated at the bottom of
the stairs, as if to climb them would be to climb into the mouth
of a monster, never to return.

She shook off the creepy feeling and took a deep breath. "Come
on, Lois, it's just a building," she whispered to herself. She
glanced up at the sky. "At least I know you're on the job
tonight," she whispered to the sky where she knew Superman, her
husband, was on the lookout.

She turned her attention back to the steps leading up to the
front door of the brownstone and thought of all the many, many
times she had climbed those stairs, heading for the warmth and
safety of her own apartment.

Well, it wasn't her apartment she was going to, but Star's, and
she forced her feet to carry her up the stairs and in the front
door. She made sure the door closed behind her, and then moved to
Star's door, and tentatively knocked. When there was no answer,
she knocked with more force.

"Star," she yelled at the door. "Star, are you home?" Lois
tried the doorknob and it was locked. "Where could you be?"

The hallway was too quiet, and Lois wasn't sure if she would
have felt any better if Star had actually been home. All the
same, it didn't matter. She wasn't going to find Star there, so
she turned and left the building.

She walked down the streets of Metropolis, past all of the
familiar places she used to walk past when she lived in the area,
and she realized that she missed them. She lingered in front of
Tony's Flower Shop where Clark had purchased a bouquet for her.
The shop was closed and the window was dark, and somehow it
seemed different. She looked at the shops on either side, then
across the street, and it all seemed different, menacing
somehow.

She pulled her coat closer around her as if it would protect her
from the unseen evil she felt. She counted her steps when she
resumed her walking. She wasn't sure where she was going, and
she wasn't sure what she was looking for. Maybe she should head
to the university and talk to the history professor. Maybe she
should go to the combat zone and try to talk to the women of the
night. Maybe she should just go home to the warmth and safety of
Clark's arms.

She approached a bench and a sign that indicated a city bus stop,
and she sat down to think. She contemplated the story they had
been working on, the brutal murders, a killer capable of eluding
Superman, a letter to the police, and then Star. A cold breeze
blew past her, and she drew her coat in closer around her, trying
to ward off the chill that had crept into her very soul, not just
from the weather, but from the horrible creepiness of her current
assignment.

A noise behind her broke her train of thought, and she twisted
around to see where it came from. There was an opening to an
alley, the entrance illuminated by the street light next to the
bus stop. At first she didn't see anything, then a movement
caught her eye. Just beyond the edge of the light sat a figure
against the wall, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around and head
down.

Another sob-like sound escaped the figure's lips, and Lois got
up from the bench and walked over. As she drew closer, the
outlines of the shadowed figure solidified, and she saw dark
curls covering the lowered head.

"Star?" she whispered. When the figure didn't respond, she
walked a little closer and repeated, "Star? Is that you?" Being
fairly certain that it was her, Lois took another step closer and
placed her hand on the figure's shoulder

The figure's head came up with a start, the curls tumbling to
the sides, revealing Star's face, strewn with tears. "Wha ..."
came her trembling voice in response. Her dark eyes, moist with
unshed tears, slowly focused with recognition as she looked at
the reporter's face. "Lois?"

"Yes, Star, it's me," Lois responded, kneeling down in front
of her friend.

Star's gaze followed Lois's familiar face, then switched to the
alley and buildings around her. Terror crept into her expression.
"How did I get here? Oh Lois ..."

Lois watched as Star's eyes drifted back to her, the expression
on the psychic's face changing from bewildered terror to cold
evil. She started to stand up and move away when Star's hand
darted out and grabbed her wrist and held on with amazing
strength. Star stood up, dragging Lois to her feet.

"Star! What are you doing? You're hurting me!" Lois protested,
trying unsuccessfully to pull free.

Star only laughed in a voice deep and not her own, with a
maniacal tone to it. She held onto Lois's hand and dragged her a
little deeper into the darkness of the alley.

Lois was nervous, even a little scared. She had not expected the
voice she had heard, the voice of a man, coming from Star's
lips. She considered calling Superman, but rejected the idea.
Star was her friend and she could talk her through it.

"Star is asleep right now," the masculine voice said in a
distinctively British accent.

"Then who am I talking to?" inquired the reporter as she again
tried to pull away.

"You can call me Jack," came the answer, the grip on Lois's
arm tightening.

Lois began to think, and think quickly. This was her friend. They
knew each other. Star would never hurt her. Besides, she wasn't
a prostitute. The ripper only killed prostitutes ... if this
really was Jack the Ripper.

"I want to talk to Star," she said in an attempt to get Star
back in control of her body.

Jack's eyes narrowed. "You have already talked too much to
Star. I like where I am, here, in this time. So much better than
before, and I don't want to leave." He laughed again then cut
it short. "You and your curiosity and your suggestions stand in
my way. You are a danger to my existence."

Fear and desperation slithered their way into Lois's
consciousness. "I want to talk to Star," she repeated, then
decided to address Star directly, in hopes that the psychic was
in there, awake, just unable to reply.

"Star, if you're listening, it's Lois. Your friend, Lois Lane.
I used to be your neighbor. Please, won't you talk to me? I need
your help," Lois pleaded.

Jack's eyes glittered, slowly turning from the hard stare of a
deranged killer to the gentle softness of Star's.

"Lois? Where am I?" Star asked, her voice her own, filled with
confused terror.

"Star? Is that you?" Lois asked quickly, hoping her eyes and
ears weren't deceiving her. Star nodded slightly, clearly
confused by the question.

"Star, listen carefully," Lois grabbed the opportunity to
explain to Star what she believed to be happening. "The guy you
were channeling for the history professor, Dr. Francis Tumblety,
is really Jack the Ripper and he's still with you. You need to
get rid of him, Star, you have to try!"

Shock filled Star's face as she realized the horror of what she
had done. She started to nod in agreement with Lois, then her
expression started to change, an obvious struggle written in her
features as Lois watched Star try to stay in control as Jack
pushed his way back to the surface. Jack won the struggle and
focused angry eyes on the reporter in front of him. A deep growl
slipped from his downturned mouth, between the clenched teeth,
the muscles in Star's lower jaw twitching with the strain.

Lois quickly tried to pull away before Jack was fully in control
again, but it was too late. He glanced at her wrist and tightened
his grip, his growl switching to a rumbling laugh.

"That is quite enough!" he snarled at her. Star's other hand
moved toward the pocket in her jacket and Lois realized what was
probably there.

Lois lost any hope she had of helping Star on her own. She opened
her mouth and started to scream. "Superm -- "

Jack's hand abandoned the jacket pocket and came up and
throttled Lois, cutting her cry short. He pushed her to the
ground and brought his other hand to join the first on her throat
and proceeded to strangle her. Lois struggled, kicking out with
her legs and pushing at Star's body with her hands, unable to
escape the unexplainable strength her friend possessed. Her mind
raced with panic as she realized that Superman was not coming.
Where was he? Her consciousness started to slip away and her
struggles lessened.

*Clark, I'm sorry*, she thought as her mind fell into darkness.

The city bus pulled up to the bus stop, and the driver opened the
door and looked out. He saw two figures in the dark, one lying on
the ground and the other on top. He put the bus into park and
stepped off the bus.

"Hey, what's going on over there?" he bellowed, moving a
couple steps closer, afraid to be too far away from the safety of
the bus.

The figure on top moved, head looking towards the bus driver,
then jerking away. Quickly it stood up and moved away,
disappearing into the dark shadows of the alley, leaving the
other figure, unmoving, on the cold, black pavement. The bus
driver heard the clanking of metal, and thought he saw the first
figure slip into a hole in the street, but he wasn't sure.

Seconds later, Superman showed up, swooping down and landing
right next to the unmoving figure. Gently he picked her up and
cradled her in his arms. "Lois?" came his soft voice, as he
noticed the bus driver move in closer.

"Superman, I saw someone, another woman, with curly hair, I
think, on top of her just a few seconds ago, I think, trying to
strangle her," the bus driver explained, his words racing out of
his mouth.

"Did you see where she went?" Superman asked, turning his full
attention to the bus driver.

The bus driver looked down the alley and pointed. "Went down a
hole over there somewhere. Never seen anything like it."

Superman looked and saw the grate and noticed it had not been
settled back into place as the others had been. The murderer was
in a real hurry this time. He contemplated going after the
killer, but when he looked back down at Lois, he realized she
wasn't breathing, and he only had minutes to get her to a
hospital to save her life.

"Call the police," the superhero told the bus driver, "and
tell them what you saw. Thanks for your help." He took off and
was gone, the bus driver watching with his mouth agape.

***

Superman landed just outside the emergency room of the Metropolis
General Hospital, with Lois limp in his arms. As soon as his feet
touched the ground, he hurried inside as the double wide doors
automatically opened for him.

Doctors, nurses, ambulance drivers, and waiting patients all
watched with blatant curiosity as the man in tights brought in
the unconscious reporter.

"She needs a doctor. Someone tried to strangle her, and she's
not breathing," he said into the crowd of people, hoping that
someone would know what to do. A doctor separated himself from
the group of onlookers.

"Grab that gurney," he said to an orderly standing nearby.
"Over here, Superman," he called, waving his arm to indicate
where. Quickly Superman walked over to the doctor. "Place her
here," the doctor instructed, indicating the waiting gurney.
Superman did as he was told, and a nurse covered her with a
sheet. Superman lingered, he touched her hair gently, then was
about to lean in to kiss her when he caught himself, realizing
people were watching. He was Superman, not Clark, and she was
married to Clark. His stomach twisted itself into knots as he
reluctantly pulled away, hoping no one noticed, yet not really
caring if anyone had.

"Put her in room two and start an IV, stat, and get her
breathing again!" the doctor further ordered, and then turned to
Superman as the nurse and orderly rushed Lois down the hall.

"Will she be all right?" the superhero asked, concern clearly
written on his face. He watched the gurney disappear into one of
the rooms.

"We'll do our best," came the reply.

Superman shifted his gaze to the doctor. "Of course you will,"
he replied. "Please call her husband, Clark Kent, and let him
know that she's here. I have a murderer to catch." His heart
lurched, telling him to stay and wait to see if Lois was okay,
but his mind told him he had to stop this killer before anyone
else died.

The doctor nodded, and Superman raced out of the emergency room,
his will alone dragging him from his beloved's side.

***

The windows to Star's apartment blew open as a blur of red,
blue, and yellow zoomed through, the curtains straining on their
rods, begging to follow him. Superman stopped and looked around
the room. The crystal ball, the wind chime, the books on astral
traveling, all normal things that Star would own, all right where
they should be and nothing out of the ordinary.

He walked through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the
bedroom. The bed was made, but it looked as if someone had slept
on top of the covers. The autumn-colored quilt and half of it was
pushed into a lump on one side. He checked her closet, then even
the bathroom. It was there, in the bathroom, on the top of the
toilet that he found the earring. He reached out and picked it
up, recognizing the gold pattern that matched the one he had
found the day before.

***

High in the sky above Metropolis, the wind gently tugged and
billowed his cape as Superman flew. His sharp eyes searched the
city below, his ears listened for the tiniest cry for help,
hoping to find any sign, any disturbance that would give the
murderer away.

He was looking for Star.

The bus driver had said he had seen another woman, one with dark
curly hair, and she disappeared down into the sewer. If it
hadn't been for Lois's condition, he would have been able to go
after her. Quickly he banished that thought. It sounded to him
like he was blaming Lois for not being able to catch the killer.
If he had been there sooner, Lois would never have been in that
condition in the first place, and he wouldn't be having these
thoughts.

Flashes of Lois lying in the street, then again on the gurney in
the hospital and him standing by, helpless, haunted his mind. His
own self doubt flowered as he considered that maybe he couldn't
always be there to protect a child if they ever had one.

As he slowly arced his way around to the harbor, he saw a flicker
of movement where there should have been none, save for a seagull
or two. This was much bigger than a seagull. Someone was standing
on top of one of the towers of the large expansion bridge that
crossed the Metropolis harbor.

Star clutched the thick support wire with white knuckled hands,
her face pressed up against it and her eyes closed. The wind at
the top of the bridge whipped through her hair, pulling her curls
behind her head as if she were riding a motorcycle.

"I won't let you win," she whispered, then louder, "I won't
let you kill again, not with my body." She opened her eyes and
slowly looked down to the churning water far below. As vertigo
tried to grab a hold of her, she could feel Jack angrily trying
to claw his way to the surface. She closed her eyes and fiercely
fought back, the conflict warring with her features.

"I will die, and you will die with me, and when you're gone,
Metropolis will be safe again from your kind of evil." She
opened her eyes once more and looked around. Searching the
darkness as best she could, she did not find the Man of Steel,
and she was relieved. She did not want him to save her. If she
could not force Jack to leave her body, then she could force her
body to leave this world.

"Good," she murmured to herself. "No Superman. It would be a
bummer if he saved me, and in turn, saved you. You don't deserve
saving, just like Lex Luthor didn't deserve saving. But
Superman, bless his soul, he tried to save Lex anyway. I can't
have that happen with you. You must die."

She looked down at the crashing waves below and drew in her
breath. "Oh God, I've never prayed to you before, but please
forgive me." She glanced at the heavens above, blinked, then
looked down once more, and jumped.

At first it felt like flying as she looked at the lights of
Metropolis below her. As they quickly rose above her, and as the
water rushed up from below, the reality of what she was doing
consumed her. Her lungs were about to burst, but she restrained
from screaming, not wanting to be saved.

Her fear of dying this way finally got the best of her as the
water rushed up to her as if it were a freight train. She let out
a blood curdling scream that was long, hard, and loud. The wind
pulled the sound away from her, and blew it away, along with the
tears rolling down her face. With only seconds to go before
hitting the water, Jack emerged once more and let out a long,
howling, "No!"

Superman watched as the figure jumped from the bridge and started
falling towards the water. He added a burst of speed to his
flying to make sure he was there to catch the person on time. It
was only when he heard the scream that he knew for sure that it
was Star, and he concentrated a little harder on being there to
catch her.

A sonic boom ripped through the air and Superman's cape brushed
the waves as he swooped under Star and stopped her fall before it
became fatal. He cleared the water and flew away from the bridge.
Looking down at his passenger, he realized that she had passed
out. He cradled her head to his chest, listened for her breathing
and heard it slow and steady.

He slowed down his flight a little bit and started to head for
the hospital. "You'll be okay," he whispered to his passenger,
and she stirred.

"Am I dead?" came a confused question.

"No, I saved you," answered the Man of Steel.

She pulled away a little and looked at the emblem in front of her
face. Recognizing it, she looked up and saw his face. "No," she
cried, "No, no, no! You were supposed to let me die ... no.
Please let me die! I can't let him go on killing! He has to
die!" She started to cry uncontrollably.

Superman held her close. "No. There has to be another way. We
will find a way to help you."

"I can't get rid of him. There is no other way," Star
whimpered, sounding utterly defeated.

"I will help you," Superman assured her.

Star's sobbing turned to sniffles, then suddenly stopped
altogether. Her eyes looked all around, then closed as she
appeared to concentrate on something.

"He's gone!" Her eyes flew open, surprise clearly written
there.

"What?" inquired Superman, not sure he had heard right.

"He's gone," she repeated. "That sick feeling in my stomach,
it's gone. The fall must have scared him away."

"He must have been afraid of death," theorized Superman.

"Yeah, probably more than I was," agreed Star. "And I was
pretty scared."

***

The hospital room was warm and cheery with the sun shining
through the window and several flower vases on the stand next to
the bed. Lois, in a hospital gown, robe, and slippers, stood on
one side of Star's bed, and Clark in a blue suit and obnoxious
tie stood on the other.

"So Tumblety was really Jack the Ripper, and he took advantage
of the situation when you channeled him for Professor
Greenwich," stated Lois.

"Yeah. I guess he liked it here, and he wanted to stay. Killing
myself was the only way I could think to get rid of him, since
all the other methods I usually use to dismiss a spirit didn't
work," explained Star.

"The fall and the fear of dying again seems to have scared him
away," added Clark.

Lois nodded. "I'm just glad Superman was able to catch you in
time." She glanced quickly up at Clark and winked at him.
"That's the funny part. I tried so hard not to make a lot of
noise so I wouldn't attract him. He just always seems to be
there when someone needs him." Star's brow furrowed as she
thought about what she had just said. "It's too bad he
couldn't have been there for those other women. I don't know
how I can live with their blood on my hands."

"Jack's hands, not yours," corrected Lois.

"It wasn't your fault," Clark added, reaching for Star's hand
and gripping it tight.

"I was the one who invited him in, and it was my body that did
the killing." Star looked at Lois, noticed the bruising on her
throat, and sadly smiled. "I'm just glad I didn't succeed in
killing you."

Lois smiled. "Me too!"

"Me three!" Clark agreed.

"Well, I'll never channel again," stated Star. "Not ever, not
no- how."

"Well one good thing came out of all this," Lois ventured. The
other two looked at her as if she had three heads.

"What?" asked Clark.

"Nothing could have been good about this whole thing," Star
shook her head.

Lois shook her head. "No, there was one thing, though no one
will ever believe us, but we know who Jack the Ripper really was.
The age old mystery has been solved. Dr. Francis Tum -- "

"Don't say that name," Star cut her off. "I don't ever want
to hear that name again, as long as I live.

Lois smiled and refrained from saying any more. Star looked from
Lois to Clark, then to his hand holding hers. A look of
enlightenment lit up her face. "You were thinking about your
doctor, weren't you? Well don't listen to him. He's wrong
about you."

Clark shook his head, half confused, half wondering. "No, I
wasn't, actually." Lois shared a curious glance with him.

Star pulled her hand from his, made a light fist, and then
knocked on her head. "This thing must still be screwed up."

THE END