It was a great story, and I recognized it right away too, Jen, so I'll step up with a quote for you...
Superman reached out his hand to touch Lois, but she flinched away. As she did so, she caught his expression: for a moment the usual remote, Superman-like mask disappeared and he looked... hurt. Just like... a whipped puppy-dog, she thought. Just like... Clark... when I was unkind...
She turned away, confused. Was she now seeing Clark in every man whose physical appearance was similar?
"Lois..." Superman spoke again. "I... need to talk to you. About what happened this evening."
He was oddly hesitant. Lois was puzzled; Superman wasn't normally like that. He was usually so sure of himself, so confident. She realised that he must also be upset about Clark; after all, she'd known the two were friends.
She turned around towards him again, still clutching the photograph to her chest. "Superman...?"
He met her eyes. "Lois, there's something I need to tell you." His voice was gentle, nothing like... Superman's. Lois wondered what was going on. He continued to look at her, his gaze compelling.
"Lois, look at me. Look hard. What do you see?"
She stared, slowly... beginning to comprehend.
"*Who* do you see?"
Lois's mouth dropped open and the photograph frame slipped from her nerveless fingers. She stared into Superman's face...
... the face of...
Clark.
In a blur, Clark put on his glasses. If Lois hadn't already figured it out, that would have been the final proof she'd needed.
"It's me, Lois," Clark said softly.
<Clark. He's not dead. He's here. He's...Superman.>
Lois ran to him. Clark held open his arms, convinced that she was going to throw herself into them. But instead, she launched her fists at him, pummelling the 'S' on his chest. He gripped her wrists tightly enough to hold them, but not enough to hurt.
"Lois, no, you'll only hurt yourself," he chided her, concerned. "You must know you can't hurt me." <Not physically, at any rate> he added silently.
Kathy
