We get right into the episode by opening on the aftermath of some catastrophe. There's broken glass scattered around a dingy-looking wooden floor. Also on the floor are a bra and some other garments, so maybe it was a sexy catastrophe. A shirtless Clark snoozes on an old, bare, lumpy mattress that's lying directly on the floor. I bet that thing is positively riddled with bedbugs. I've been convinced there are bedbugs everywhere ever since I saw 30 Rock week before last. But getting back to Clark: A feminine hand reaches around from behind Clark and caresses his bare chest. Oliver, what girly hands you have! Oh, wait -- it's Lois. As Clark sleeps, she pulls a sheet (full of bedbugs) around her naked body and gets up off the mattress. As she crosses the room to a window, we see that whatever building they're in is practically decimated. It's mostly just the tattered wooden frame and floors. (And bedbugs.) She stands at the gaping hole in the wall that passes for the window and shudders. Clark puts on some pants and joins her, hugging her from behind. "I wish we had more time," he says. She reaches up to touch his cheek where there's a still-bloody gash and turns around to look at him. Sad music plays. They gaze sadly at each other for eons and then kiss. In the background, a red, sullen sun burns above the horizon and the music turns ominous.
The glow of the sun increases in brightness until the glare fills up the entire screen, obscuring Lois and Clark from view. When the light fades, we're at the Daily Planet, staring at Lois's perfectly blank expression. I think that unlike all the other times her expression is blank, this time it's blank on purpose, as she's been lost in a reverie of red suns and perky man-nipples. Clark sits at the desk across from her, periodically glancing up at her with concern. Romantic music of the comedic variety plays. Clark's paying so much attention to the blankly-staring Lois that he accidentally knocks over his coffee cup. Or maybe, judging by his goofy smile, he did it on purpose to get Lois's attention. She keeps staring into nothingness. He goes, "Earth to Lois!" and she finally blinks and looks at him. He notes that it's like she's been on a different planet, which leads her to respond, "Easy, Armstrong, this space-case is buried in research!" Stop giving her openings to spout catchy dialogue that isn't catchy! She has two weeks of work to catch up on, she says. He teases her about leaving because of what happened between them. She blushes, much to Clark's surprise. She covers by blathering about how her "ejector seat malfunction" wasn't all about Clark. He offers to talk with her about it, but she turns him down: "When I want to talk about it, I'll send up a smoke signal!" That... was an abrupt change from space-travel metaphors. Clark seems almost as confused as I am, but a courier interlopes into the scene to ask Lois to sign for a delivery.