Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Fanfic Related Favourite Revelations: Fanfic Quiz - part 2

"Clark, what's going on?" Lois demanded. "I don't understand any of this - how can you be alive? And why didn't you tell me?!"

"One thing at a time, please," he said quickly. "Lois, look at me."

She looked, and realised again that he wasn't wearing glasses. She had never seen Clark without glasses before today; for the first time, it struck her that that was quite surprising. Most people who wore glasses, no matter how short-sighted they were, took them off sometimes; and yet she had even called over to his apartment in the middle of the night, catching him in his sleepwear, and he'd still had them on.

Now, it occurred to her that without them, Clark reminded her of someone. But... who? She couldn't place the resemblance, but then that might have had something to do with a sleepless night and more tears than she'd ever shed in her life before, to say nothing of the shock of a dead partner suddenly coming back to life.

He was watching her, seemingly waiting for... something. She couldn't work out what he was expecting her to see, though. Then he spoke again, his voice gentle but insistent.

"Lois, think. I was shot at, and I wasn't hurt. How could that be? Look at me - what do you see?"

She stared, numerous puzzle pieces she'd never even known were there suddenly falling into place. It couldn't be... but what other explanation was there?

It all made sense now. Clark was Superman. *Superman* had been with her in the gambling den the night before, and had moved to stand in front of her, to protect her, when she'd been threatened. So he hadn't been killed after all - Superman was invulnerable, so he couldn't be hurt by bullets.

So Clark had been alive the whole time. There was never any possibility that he could have been killed. The realisation played itself over and over in her mind. Clark was Superman. Clark had never died. Clark had let her think he was dead... she'd cried herself sick over someone who didn't care enough about her to spare her pain.

She'd thought Superman was too honourable to lie to her. She'd thought Clark cared about her, that as her best friend he would never hurt her. Yet both of them, in the person of this stranger standing in front of her, had shown the most callous disregard of her feelings.

The betrayal was just too much to bear. In a sudden, jerky movement, she got to her feet and pushed past him, the tears this time for the end of a friendship which had never been what she'd thought it was. "Goodbye, Superman," she threw at him, her voice bitter, and she marched towards the kitchen, flinging open the door and walking swiftly past an astonished Martha and Jonathan on her way to the back door and escape.

"There's a reason why I have to disappear; there's a secret that is very important to me and the others in my personal life. Now it's time to share it with you. I've wanted to tell you for a long time, but the timing never seemed quite right. I couldn't begin the next step in our relationship without letting you know exactly who you'll be dating. No more secrets and excuses. Today I give you my complete trust. All of it. That's what this little Superman emblem is for," he spoke in an odd, but gentle tone. "Lois, I'm Superman."

"You're... Superman?" Her mouth hung open and her eyes grew wide in astonishment as his words sunk in. She sat very still for a few moments as the information began to process in its entirety.

All the pieces suddenly fit together. Clark was Superman! That was why he had run out on her countless times. Not because he was afraid or weird or being a jerk, it was because people's lives were in danger and he had to rescue them. And her!! Clark had saved her life countless times and she didn't even know it.

And it wasn't too long ago that she had rejected Clark, only to tell Superman that she would love him even if he were an ordinary man. Now that she was finally seeing Clark in a new light, she realized that he could be thinking that he was taking the risk of having her want him only because she now knew that he was Superman. Not because he was that ordinary man that she supposedly would have recognized, but the superhero whom she had idolized for so long. But he had taken that risk anyway and now, he had just proven that her instincts had been right in choosing the gift that she was about to give him.

"I think you should open this." She got up from the sofa and went around the back and dragged a huge box from behind it. "Please note; mine's bigger."

This was what he'd dreaded the most, and this was what was now lying in her eyes. She walked back without turning around, keeping her eyes fixed on his face, until her back fetched up hard against the far wall of the apartment. Her gaze kept travelling from the glasses she was still clutching, to him, who hadn't made a move since she'd discovered the truth, not even allowing himself to breathe for fear of making her scream.

She brought a trembling hand to her face, shaking her head as if to deny the truth offering itself to her, yet unable to doubt any longer. "Oh, my God, you *are* him," she hissed out, voicing the
evidence.

"Do you remember what we talked about yesterday when you realised
that Superman had come to Earth in that spaceship, Lois?"

She nodded. "He came to Earth as a baby. And grew up here too, I guess."

"Yeah, he did," Clark confirmed. "Those papers you gave me, Lois -
how much of them did you read?"

Lois shrugged. "Enough to know why Trask thought that green stuff -
the Kryptonite - was dangerous to Superman. And that it had been
found in the same place as the spaceship."

"Did you see where they were found? And when the spaceship was
found?" he asked, watching her closely, wondering how much she
already knew.

She shook her head. "I didn't have time - you'd come back, and I was
too concerned about us getting out of there before the FBI got there."

Clark caught and held her gaze. "They were found in Smallville,
Kansas," he told her slowly, his voice low and intense, as befitted
the enormity of the secret with which he was entrusting her. "And the
ship carrying the baby arrived in 1966."

He could see the precise second at which the penny dropped; the
moment at which it dawned on her that Superman was in reality the man
now talking to her. Her expression changed from keen interest at this
opportunity to learn more about her Super-hero to incredulity,
bewilderment and awe. "*You're* from Smallville!" she exclaimed, in
little more than a whisper. "And 1966... you had to have been born
around then..."

"Do you think you'll be seeing Mayson again?" Lois asked, striving to be nonchalant.

"What? Oh, maybe," Clark answered without looking up. If he had, he would have been able to read the storm signals that Lois was sending out, but he was busy, and he didn't.

"Oh, really," Lois drawled, feeling ignored. "What do you see in her anyway, Clark?" Her voice was steely and filled with venom, and this did capture his attention.

"Uh, she's very nice," he said as he looked up, almost feeling guilty admitting this.

"Don't you find her a little... needy?" Lois asked. "She strikes me as someone who's very desperate for a man. Not a very attractive quality in a woman if you ask me," Lois pointed out, sarcastically.

Clark was starting to get a little annoyed. All these mixed signals from Lois were pretty confusing. He was a little irritated by how she was first warm, then cold with him. "Are you saying that the only women who find me attractive are needy ones?" he asked, sharply.

"No, I'm just asking if you really think that you have any kind of a future with her," Lois retorted, angrily, so caught up in the argument that she had no idea what she was saying.

"Well, maybe I do," Clark replied, retaliating in kind.

"Oh, really. And how could you possibly have a future with a woman who thinks of you with distaste?" Lois asked, the words pouring out of her on their own.

"What? Mayson enjoys my company. She doesn't think of me with distaste," Clark said, plainly confused by this new attack.

"Hah!" Lois exclaimed, triumphantly. "That's because she doesn't know, does she, Clark? She doesn't know about your alter-ego, does she, Superman?"

Her words just hung in the air for a long moment with no reaction from him. Lois's hand crept up to cover her open mouth as she realised what she had just said.

"You know?" he finally asked, his voice shaking a bit.

"I'm starting to remember things, Superman!" she announced excitedly.

He smoothed his face to a stern expression. What if she remembered her crush on Superman? Well, he'd just explain things to her again, if necessary, but the mere thought that she
could fall for someone else after spending the night with Clark made him tense up. "That's good, Lois," he replied belatedly.

She smiled brilliantly. "I need you to find Clark for me."

Oh really? This was interesting. "I can take you to him," he offered.

She nodded, and he scooped her up, trying valiantly to think of her as a sister. At least from this position, she couldn't see how tight his briefs were becoming. He flew her away from the sanitarium, towards Centennial Park, and the fountain where they'd gotten engaged. He wasn't above subtle hints.

She looked around blankly when he set her down. That fountain was vaguely familiar, but she didn't take the time to chase down the memory. "Where's Clark?" Superman looked around, and she suddenly was afraid he would leave. "No, wait, I want to talk to you first."

He crossed his arms and looked at her, unsure of what to expect. She started pacing, but glanced at him frequently as she talked. "I don't remember a lot, very clearly, but I think I
remember that you... that you have romantic feelings for me."

Clark had no idea how he should respond to this, but she didn't seem to require any input from him.

"I just want to make sure you know that I'm in love with Clark. And I have been, for a lot longer than I ever told anyone, I think."

He blinked in surprise, temporarily speechless. Sometimes it still amazed him that she could love him at all, let alone that she could prefer *Clark* to Superman. She kept proving it to him,
though, again and again, and it never failed to awe him.

She saw the thunderstruck expression on his face, and winced. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you...."

He shook his head slowly, and managed to reply. "You haven't hurt me, Lois." He began to smile, feeling happier than he'd ever expected to. In a way, this was even better than last night.

Lois saw Superman's smile for the first time, and gasped, her eyes narrowing. This was more than deja-vu... she'd seen that smile, just recently... she searched his face, and the light
dawned. "Clark? Is that you?"

Clark took a deep breath. Of all the things he'd faced in his life- from moving out of Kansas to swallowing high explosives- this was the hardest. "I'm Superman."

"What?"

"I'm Superman. I've been running away from our conversations to go fly around and save people's lives."

Lois had been prepared for just about anything- or so she thought. A fear of intimacy, panic attacks, a secret marriage- all sorts of possibilities had gone through her head, but this... it was worse than she thought. It was clear that he meant what he was saying. She couldn't remember him ever sounding so serious. Still, she had thought she'd known him better than that. To have worked with him so long and not realized... "Clark, I don't know what to say. I'm not good at these things...."

"What? You're supposed to have experience with people telling you they're secretly superheroes?"

"No, I mean with approaching people with mental problems."

"Mental problems?"

"Clark, you're delusional."

"You... think I'm..." Clark tried to absorb Lois' attitude. He supposed he should have expected it, but, well, he hadn't. So, he was going to have to prove to Lois that he knew what he was talking about.

"You see? I told you I wasn't good at these things. Look how badly I'm handling this. I guess confronting you directly with your delusion wasn't the right way, but you know me- just cut right to the chase. No beating around the bush with me. No, I just have to-"

"Lois?" Clark interjected Lois' babble before she could get too wound up in avoiding the issue at hand.

"What?"

"Look at my feet."

"Look at your feet? Look at your feet. Okay... Well, if the direct approach isn't working, I guess I can try playing along. I'll look at your feet. Right. There are your feet. A perfectly normal pair of feet in a perfectly normal pair of shoes hovering three inches off the ground. Wait... uhm, Clark? Why aren't your feet touching the ground?"

"Because I'm floating, Lois. I told you- I'm Superman. I can do these things. Now do you believe me?"

"You're... Superman? Oh, my god. You're Superman."

Just as Clark started to walk out of the alley, he saw Lois getting out of a cab on the empty street. He hurried to meet her.

"Hey," she said with a smile. She pulled her press pass out of her pocket as they hurried towards the plaza. Clark reached into his pocket for his own press pass. And then... "Uh-oh," he said, stopping.

"What's wrong?" Lois asked.

"I forgot my press pass in my other suit," he said. Without giving her the chance to respond, he quickly spun into his Superman suit, pulled his press pass out of the pocket in the lining, then spun back into his Clark suit, holding up the pass triumphantly. As he stopped spinning,
though, he saw Lois's stunned expression.

"Oops," he said. "I didn't...uh...duck into that alley to do that, did I?"

Lois shook her head mutely.

He sighed. "I meant to." Lack of sleep was definitely getting to him.

Lois was still staring at him, jaw slightly open.

"Lois, I think there's something I need to tell you..." he said.

Lois and Clark are on their way to the movie now. Lois made
Clark wait a bit after he got here. First her hair wasn't
quite right and then her skirt was wrinkled. Poor Clark
spent ten minutes here in the living room just staring into
my tank. Finally, he convinced her that she looked great
and they left. Food for thought... watching Clark tonight
gave me an idea... Slick his hair back a little, take off
the glasses and he would look just like -- no. Couldn't be.
If that were true, surely Lois would have figured it out by
now.

Clark must have been worried about me and forgotten himself
because he pulled his glasses down his nose and looked at my
ankle. Even through my pain-induced haze I wondered what he was
doing looking at my ankle. It wasn't as if he could see anything
but skin. Boy was I wrong.

I looked up into his face. His eyes were clouded with worry and
his mouth was almost twisted with sympathy. But the thing that
alerted me the most was that he had his glasses down at the bridge
of his nose. I had never seen his eyes without his glasses
before, and for some reason he looked so different without them,
almost like someone else. I couldn't place who that someone else
was until Clark muttered, "Not broken, thank God."

What? How could he have known that it wasn't broken just by
looking at it? It wasn't like he could x-ray it with his eyes.
Boy was I wrong! It hit me then. Why was he able to wear a tank
top and shorts in the cold and his skin still be warm? Why does
he always have to leave me whenever we are having a meaningful
discussion and always seems so sorry and gives such lame excuses?
How could he look at my ankle and say it's not broken? Who does
he look like without his glasses?

It hit me then. It made so much sense. I guess it took a brain
clouded with pain to realize that Clark Kent, the mild-mannered
reporter I had, I admit it, fallen in love with, was also
Superman, the other man I still had some feelings for. This was
not the time to confront him about it, though, because Jimmy was
running back towards us.

The T.V. sprung to life. After the Dirt Digger's opening credits finished, a woman appeared on the screen. "Tonight, we have an exclusive for you. We have the inside story on everybody's favorite superhero - Superman. Stay with us and you will be amazed. You will never look at the superhero quite the same way again."

Clark turned toward Lois. "Who are they claiming he's sleeping with now?" he asked.

Lois turned toward him then. Clark was brought up short by the anger in her eyes. She turned back to the window. Clark was about to comment when the voice on the television directed his attention back to it.

"We have come by an exclusive video tape that proves conclusively that Superman has a secret identity. He has been masquerading among us for years under this identity. First, we will show you the tape, then we will give you the name and what we know about this man."

Clark's heart almost stopped beating. There was a picture on the television screen of Lois kissing him in his apartment. His mind skipped ahead. He knew what was coming next before he saw it. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He didn't watch the rest. He switched off the television and turned toward Lois. One day. He had planned to tell her tonight. He had waited one day too long.

"Lois," Clark said softly.

"Don't, Clark. Don't deny it. Not to me. Not again."

"Again?"

"Diana Stride."

"Oh," Clark said, pulling in a sharp breath. The last time someone had figured out his secret, he had managed to convince everyone, including Lois, that Diana Stride had made the whole thing up. He could still remember the guilt he felt looking into her eyes as he finished his press conference. "Lois, I'm not going to deny it. Not to you."

She'd seen him throw snowballs at the kids who were under the influence of
Schott's Greed Potion. She remembered seeing him take on four of the
orphans in a snowball fight with only Danielle to help him, and wipe
the floor with three of them (leaving the last, and biggest, one for
*her*), his every throw precise and devastating, yet so easy in its
execution... And she had this unforgettable mental picture of his
protecting the little girl by putting himself in the way of the boys'
first salvo of snowballs, his overcoat spread wide to cover her, just
like...

Just like a *cape!*

'No...' She couldn't-- didn't *want* to believe it, but her mind
seized on that comparison and replayed her view of his initial
riposte to the boys' attack; when, in one smooth, flowing, continuous
movement, he'd reached down and whirled around, grabbing a handful of
snow as he turned, and launched it on its way towards one of
Danielle's tormentors. His overcoat had billowed out behind him as it
tried to catch up with the movement of his body and, for one
unforgettable moment, it hung in the winter air... exactly how
Superman's cape had flapped out behind him as he made his throw, only
seconds ago.

'Oh, my God... it's true... Superman... Clark is...'

She finished straightening the kitchen and walked around
the corner into the living room. There she saw Superman
standing in the light of the window, completely focused on
Jacob. He had him stretched out along his forearm, his
head cradled in his palm.

Lois froze as the room spun around her. She gasped and
Superman whipped his head around to look at her.

Misinterpreting the reason for her gasp, he tried to
reassure her.

"Don't worry, Lois. I've got him. He likes it, see," he
said nodding at Jake, who was indeed gurgling and waving
his arms.

Lois willed her heart to stop pounding. She opened her
mouth to speak, but before she could form any words
Superman tilted his head to the side and turned to Lois
apologetically.

"I have to go," he said, handing Jacob to her, and with one
last smile he was out the window.

Lois staggered to the sofa. "Oh my God. Oh my God. How?
I mean..."

Finally, it all made sense. The constant disappearing act,
accompanied by the incredibly lame excuses... He wasn't
afraid of commitment, he didn't have a secret wife, he
didn't have an illness that made him need to use the
restroom every half hour, and he wasn't just the most
forgetful man on the planet. He was Superman.

Confusion battled anger as she grappled with fact that
Clark had been lying to her for over a year.

"Tell me," she spoke conversationally, "what made you think I'd talk to
Superman when I just threw your alter ego off my porch?"

Clark froze unsure that he had heard her correctly. She laughed ironically
at him, interpreting his stillness as guilt. "Oh come on Clark, we are
supposed to be best friends aren't we? Don't you think disappearing on me
for what? Five hours? Not that you bothered to even try to give me one of
your really bad excuses before you went, is enough reason to finally come
clean?"

Clark turned slowly to face her, "Lois," he began uncertainly, "I'm not sure
I..." The look on her face stopped him and he felt his insides twist, "I'm
not sure I know what to say."

"I have to tell you something," he announced, releasing her hand and
stepping back. "I know that you're going to be mad at me, and you'll feel deceived and hurt and betrayed. I know all that, and I promise I'll stay and listen to everything you want to say to me. You can even scream at me if you want. But, please, forgive me for not telling you about this sooner, Lois."

She frowned. What was all this about? And why was he so worried about her reaction?

"I love you. Tell me," she encouraged him.

Then he turned, and began to spin, faster and faster until he was a blur of colour... colours Clark hadn't been wearing! And when he slowed, and became properly visible again, she was no longer looking at Clark.

Lois swallowed. Oh, this explained a lot. All the disappearances, the silly excuses, the number of times Clark had known something which only Superman could have known. It explained the really strange sense she'd had for a long time that she was attracted to two men simultaneously. And... it explained, far more credibly, how Clark had miraculously come back to life after being shot dead.

Just as she was about to call out to him, she noticed a jeep suddenly
appear around the blind curve in the road, speeding toward the pileup, no
possibility of not crashing into it. And then, in the dim light of the
crescent moon, she saw something incredible. In a blur, Clark moved in
front of the speeding jeep as if he intended to stop it. Lois felt a
scream begin to rise in the back of her throat and then it was over. Clark
was standing in front of the jeep, his hand on the hood. There had been no
collision. How could that be? She watched as Clark, in a fast moving blur,
disappeared back into the darkness.

Lois ran toward the jeep just as Matt Thomson got out. "Are you all right?"

He looked groggy and shook his head, as if to clear it. "Yeah. Did you see
what happened? I should be dead. It was all so quick. I was half asleep and
I skidded on the pavement coming around the bend. The next thing I know I'm
racing toward this pileup and I can't brake the car fast enough. I thought
I saw a man but that can't be possible." He shook his head again and
repeated his question, "Did you see what happened?"

"I'm not sure; it all happened so fast." But she was sure; she was very
sure about what she had seen. She put it temporarily to the back of her
mind. "You must be exhausted," she said. "You can't get back into the car
in this state. Come with me. There's tea over at the emergency van."

They were walking toward the van when Matt saw Jenny, dishevelled and her
uniform blood spattered. She looked exhausted. He hadn't called her before
he left on his flight to Metropolis and now he regretted it. He might never
have seen her again.

Startled, she looked up at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I was on my home when . . ." he couldn't finish because she had flung her
arms around him and he found himself holding her tightly, his face buried
in her wet hair.

She pulled away from him, "I can't talk right now. I'll see you later?"

"Come to my place when you go off duty."

"Yeah," she turned back toward the wreck and he watched her go.

Clark came up toward them as she left. Lois noticed the way the rain had
slicked his dark hair so that it clung damply to his skull and wondered why
she had never noticed his resemblance to Superman before. It had to be the
glasses> she thought in disgust. <and they were *new* ones and I still
didn't notice. . . She wanted to yell at him, to run away from him, to
turn herself in for stupidity. She did none of these things; instead she
controlled her feelings and said hi.

They walked with Matt back toward his jeep. Clark offered to drive him home
and Matt, still shaken from his experience, accepted. Lois agreed to follow
them in Allie's car. Why, Clark? You could just fly back, she thought
angrily.

As she followed behind them, she tried to get a grip on her feelings. She
felt more isolated than she had ever felt in her life. Surprised, she
realized that he had been her anchor for nearly two years and now she felt
adrift, not recognizing the waters around her. Who was he? Which was the
act, Clark or Superman? She remembered reading somewhere about how the
former Soviet Union had planted 'moles' in Europe during the Cold War,
young agents so thoroughly immersed in the culture of their new home that
they blended in perfectly, marrying, having children, developing solid
friendships. As the U.S.S.R. had decayed from within, these sleepers had
never been 'activated' and the agents had not wanted to return, preferring
to stay with their families, willing emotional captives of the society they
had been sent to undermine. How must their spouses and friends have felt
when they found out, she wondered?

Like fools! was her cross answer. How could you not have noticed? You
were supposedly closer to Superman than anyone else. Except Clark Kent! Ha!
Where were your observation skills? You're a trained journalist! You should
have known. Why didn't you pick up on the clues? God, there were hundreds
of them! All those ridiculous excuses! Cheesy excuses! You should turn in
your Kerths! And it's not like you've only seen Superman being 'super'.
You've seen him when he's been vulnerable: when he was blinded (now at
least you know where he was that night!), when you dug a kryptonite bullet
out of his shoulder, and two weeks ago, when he was close to death after
Diana Stride had kissed him with that 'special k' lipstick. God, he could
be naive sometimes!

And then she remembered how he had clung to her when he'd come out of the
atomic furnace that had radiated the krptonite out of his system. Oh,
Clark.

Maybe those European spouses had a support group. She'd have to check the
Internet.

Then she focused on Clark. Why haven't you told me? If you're really
serious about our relationship, you have to tell me. Don't you trust me?
Maybe those agents were right, and I'm part of the cover. She dismissed
that thought quickly; he didn't need a cover; Clark was the cover, the
media link. What if Clark isn't the cover, what if Superman is the cover?
Clark, who are you??

"Clark ... those aren't your only options. There are millions of women in this country, not to mention the rest of the world, and most of them are a lot nicer than her!"

He shook his head. She didn't understand. "Lana was the only one who really knew about me ... who accepted me. God knows no one else would."

"Oh, please. What could be so terrible?"

He looked up at her, starting to get annoyed at her persistence. "You really want to know?"

"Yeah, I really do!"

He glowered at her. "Well, I can't tell you."

She glared right back. "Why the hell not? It's a private room, and if you want, I will swear to never tell anyone else. What'd you do, kill someone?"

"No!" Glumly, he realized that he didn't have much reason to keep this a secret. They weren't going to find any thieves on Shipton, so his job was about to disappear, and Lana was already furious with him. The worst Lois could do would be to publish ... and so what? He could always change his name and move to Tahiti. If he were destined to be alone and miserable, he could at least live on a beach.

"All right, fine." The decision made, the words poured forth. "I'm not human; I'm an alien. I have *powers*. I can hear things from hundreds of feet away, I can see through walls, I can set things on fire with my eyes. I'm tremendously strong. I can fly." To illustrate the point, he pushed back the chair, and levitated in midair before her stunned eyes. "So tell me, who's gonna put up with all that?"

"Not that I have the foggiest idea what I'm going to do about Superman," she immediately continued. "I mean, if he was just Superman, that would be one thing. Not that I would know what to do. But at least I'd know what my options really were. I think I could even handle his having another persona. But he made it pretty clear that I wouldn't like him in that persona. He seemed positive about that. And I know it's ridiculous, but I just can't seem to stop thinking that maybe it's someone like Ralph."

"Lois..."

"What if he's right, Clark? What if he tells me who he is and I realize that he's right - that I really, really don't like this guy? If it is Ralph, how do I say: 'Sorry, Superman, but you're right. I really..."

"Lois..."

"...don't like you. In fact, I think you're a creep and the idea of you touching me makes me feel sick to my stomach."

"Lois..."

"Oh, god, Clark. What if it is Ralph? How do I handle that? Why does it have to be Ralph? Why couldn't it be someone I really like? Why couldn't it by someone like yo..."

Her voice came to an abrupt halt when something clicked in Lois' mind. As if someone had suddenly flicked a switch, light flooded into Lois' previously clouded mind. She began almost gasping for air as the pieces of the puzzle began tumbling into place with amazing speed. And it all suddenly made sense. In fact, it was the only thing that did.

"You can cut it down to two choices," she began softly, although speaking to him, addressing herself more. "Superman doesn't think I would love him as an ordinary man - an ordinary man I've already met and rejected... You both tell me you love me using the same words... I've never seen you together, but you're supposed to be friends... You're always able to get in touch with him... And that stupid disappearing act of yours... Omigod," Lois finally gasped.

Clark's face had gone from an expression of confusion to a portrait in fear.

Lois reached down and, with trembling hands, undid another couple of buttons on his shirt and pushed back the edges to look at his cloth- covered chest. She gave a small whimper when what she knew she was going to find was suddenly there, making it impossible for her to dismiss the truth as merely a bad dream. She was staring at the 'S' symbol on Superman's suit.

'I'm writing this because I want to be the one to tell you. I'm not sure how to say this so I guess I should just tell you as simply and honestly as I can. Lois, I'm Superman.'

...

'I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell you in person. I guess I owe you some sort of explanation for that. I don't want you to think I didn't trust you. I could give you lots of reasons. I could tell you that I have never before told anyone. I could tell you that I was at a complete loss about how to tell you. I could point out the dangers to you if you knew. I could even tell you that I was afraid that you would be mad at me. All of that would be true.

'But none of those are the real reason. Lois, I've fallen as hard for you as you have for Superman. I guess the main reason I never told you is that I wanted you to fall in love with the real me - Clark - instead of the celebrity - Superman. If you are reading this letter, I guess that never happened.'

Lois let out a sob when, in a moment of absolute clarity, she realized just what her feelings were for Clark. She did love him. In fact, she had been in love with him for months. She was just too scared to admit it - even to herself. "It did happen, Clark," she said softly.

Ooh! Thought you could fool us, Pam, did you?

Lois, smelling a great story, even if it did harm the Planet in some way, eagerly unfolded the paper, her eyes falling on the front-page
story, the headline screaming out at her.

< "DAILY PLANET REPORTER EXPOSED AS SUPERMAN!" >

Underneath this, the article began:

< "Daily Planet reporter Clark Kent has admitted the secret he has kept safe since arriving in our city. Upon painstaking questioning by
government officials, Kent has admitted to being the alien who has been watching over Metropolis and the world for four years now. Some officials are claiming that Kent is dangerous to the well being of Earth. Mr. Kent is being held pending further investigation . . ." >

"An alien!" Lois gasped. "Perry, are you sure . . .?" Lois's voice trailed off as her eyes finally found the colour photos accompanying the paragraph. Two pictures were placed side by side - one of a gallant looking man with slicked back black hair and steadfast eyes. The other was of an ordinary looking man with soft hair falling over his forehead in a soft curl and glasses hiding kind brown eyes. The first picture was by far the more impressive one; but it was the second that made Lois give another sharp gasp.

As she stared at the man's countenance and examined those eyes, Lois could feel her heart rate accelerate and her hands begin to shake. Suddenly she couldn't keep her grip strong and dropped the paper back onto Perry's desk, causing the older man to look up in mild alarm.

"Are you all right, Lois?"

Lois barely heard him; she stared off into space, seeing only *him*. What was it about this Kent person that struck her as so important?
Why did she feel as if - as if -

"I *know* him," she whispered amazedly

He put his hand on the back of her head, not allowing her
to lift it. "Before I let you go, I want you to know that I
do love you, with all my heart and soul." Slowly he
released her.

"Clark, you're scaring.... me." Lois stopped as she
realized they were standing on Clark's balcony. "How...?
How...? What the hell are you?"

Lois' words ripped through Clark. "I'm so sorry you had to
find out this way."

"Find out what?" And how the hell did we get here?"

"Lois, I'm... very unique. And I flew us here."

"You what? Have you lost your mind? Or... have I lost mine?
What do you mean you flew us? Men don't fly. Did you hit
your head? Did I hit mine? Oh God, I'm going crazy." Lois
paced the balcony before dropping to a chair.

Clark sat next to her. "If you'll listen, I'll explain."

Lois looked up to Clark's eyes. Seeing a mixture of guilt,
sorrow and hurt, she had to know what caused it. "Okay,
Clark. I'm listening." Her voice was calm.

Clark took a deep breath and settled into an explanation.
He watched the emotions play across her face. Complete
shock faded into fascination as he told his story. When
he'd finished, she sat, stunned for a long while.

The silence got the best of Clark. "Lois, I know this is a
shock. I should never have let you get so close to me. You
don't deserve this."

"Deserve what?"

"Someone like me."

"Clark, someone like you? *You* just saved my life. Without
your... abilities, I'd still be locked away in Luthor's...
prison. True, your uniqueness is a lot to take in. But from
the moment I met you, I knew there was something
different about you."

Star Player, Star Reporter by AnnieM?

She came back over to him, deliberately putting on a more cheerful
expression. "So, what can I do? This smells great." She reached out to take
the lid off the casserole dish.

"No, don't -" Clark yelled, rushing towards her.

It was too late; Lucy screamed in pain as her hand touched the burning hot
lid. Clark snatched the lid out of her hand and put it on the worktop, then
grabbed Lucy's arm and hustled her towards the sink. As he ran the water,
he quickly and discreetly froze the area of the burn with his super-breath,
then held her hand under water for several minutes.

"Thanks, Clark," Lucy gasped when she'd recovered from the shock. "I can't
believe I did that!"

As Clark gently patted her hand dry with a paper towel, subtly blowing more
freezing breath on the burn, Lucy suddenly stared up at him as something
occurred to her. "Clark - when I came in, I definitely saw you holding that
dish, and you *weren't wearing gloves*! How come you didn't get burnt?"

"What are you?" Lois whispered.

Her arms still clung to Clark's neck, and she was soft and warm in his arms, but her muscles were tense, and she held herself stiffly away from him. Very different from the yielding woman he had held in his arms on the dance floor earlier. His heart ached at the change in her attitude toward him, and it took him two tries before he could answer her. "A-a friend . . . I hope," he said at last.

She bit her lower lip and swallowed, but her voice still came out as a whisper. "Y-you're flying . . . without a hang-glider or even
flapping your arms."

A brief, unamused smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "It was a surprise to me the first time it happened, too." He turned his head to look at her, her face just inches from is. "Can we wait to talk about this until we get to my place?"

"Y-your place?"

"My apartment," he said.

"You have an . . . ?"

"Apartment? Yeah, and a job, too."

Silence stretched between them, which Clark finally broke to say, "Are you okay?"

She stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"Did I hurt you when I grabbed you? I mean . . . I didn't have a lot of time for finesse."

"No, I--" She relaxed slightly against his supporting arm and studied his face. "I'm fine. Thank you," she added.

The prim courtesy brought a faint smile to his face, and he swung his gaze from the cityscape ahead of them to meet her curious eyes. "You're welcome." He dropped out of the night onto a dark balcony facing an otherwise featureless alley and gently set her on her feet.

Lois tugged her bodice up from the marginally legal position it had slipped to when she fell, adjusted her straps, and smoothed her skirt down to cover her legs as Clark felt in his trouser pocket for his keys. When he opened the door and flipped on the light in the mud room, he turned back and gestured for her to step inside, but she balked. "Why are we here?" she asked.

He sighed. "To talk. I figured you'd have some questions for me."

Clark's eyes widened in surprise. "I don't want you? I have never wanted anyone so much in my life!"

"Then why did you dump me?"

Clark sighed, "Quit saying that! I never dumped you, Lois, I just wanted to let you be free to date Dan if that is what you wanted to do."

"What do you want, Clark? Do you want me with someone else?"

"No!" Clark yelled. Then more softly, "It kills me a little, each time Dan is around you."

"Then why do you abandon me one minute and then shower me with gifts the next?"

"I thought you'd like the gifts I picked out."

"That's not the point." Lois said. "But, yes, I loved the cup."

"I could tell." Clark responded.

"I'm sorry about breaking it."

"Sorry that it broke, or sorry that you threw it at me?"

"Both."

"Lois," Clark said quietly. "I want you with me, but I can't guarantee that I will never run out on you ever again."

"Well," Lois sighed, "so it goes in the everyday life of a superhero."

"Right," Clark stopped. "What?"

Lois just smiled. "Clark Kent, I am only the best investigative journalist in the city. How long did you think you could keep this from me?"

"What from you?"

Lois reached up to Clark's shirt and unbuttoned the top two buttons revealing the familiar blue formfitting material. "Superman." Lois breathed.

Clark grabbed Lois's hand with his own and looked into her eyes. "How long have you known?"

"I don't really know, it was a gradual realization. Subconscious hints over time. The clincher was Diana Stride's expose' on you. Superman's appearance was...wrong somehow. Was it a hologram?"

Clark nodded, dumbfounded. "You know." He kept repeating that line over and over to himself. Lois knew. No more hiding, no more running away. "When were you going to tell me?" Clark asked.

"When was I going to tell YOU?" Lois countered. "You have a lot of nerve asking me that! Were you ever going to tell ME?"

As Lois began to build up from his chin, something was nagging at her.
It was such a *familiar* chin. 'Well of course you think you've seen it
before, Lane- it is *Superman's* chin.' But that wide square jaw looked
so familiar, it was driving her just *nuts* - 'CLARK'S jaw.' That
thought made her jump. She was so intent on loving one man that she was
combining them into one person! 'Get a grip, Lane.' Lois worked hard to
continue building up the Man of Steel's face. Now that nose also got
her attention. In the beginning, she had almost wanted to pop Clark a
good one, square on the nose- *Superman's nose*. Then his beautiful
brown eyes were pieced together. She had gazed into those eyes so often,
first looking at Superman, and then at Clark. As the images began to
swim in front of her, Lois heard herself give out a loud gasp.
'Clark-is-Superman-and-Superman-is-Clark!' They are the same man!! HOW
DUMB WAS SHE?!?

**** obeyed. He lifted her with no apparent effort, until she was
within inches of the ceiling, and held her steady. **** fumbled with
the little catch for a moment, then pushed the panel back. Clark
lifted her higher. "Climb," he instructed. "And hang on."

She grasped the edge of the aperture with one hand and thrust the
other arm through the opening. Clark pushed from beneath, and with
surprisingly little effort she emerged onto the top of the elevator.
The surface rocked under her, and she grasped for handholds on the
metal surface with fingers that suddenly felt cold in spite of the
warmth that permeated the inside of the elevator shaft. Far above
her, the blackness was broken by a tiny square of light. Below she
could see the dim elevator shaft extending down into pitch blackness.

Clark boosted himself through the opening, his broad shoulders
brushing both sides. He slid the door back into place and knelt
beside her on the unsteady surface. There was a jolt, and the
elevator rocked unsteadily. **** gasped, and held more tightly to her
small measure of safety.

"Here, hold onto me," Clark directed. He extended a hand.

**** shifted her grip from the cold metal to Clark, and he stood
slowly up on the swaying surface, bringing her with him.

"Well, sir," she teased, playfully resting her hands on his shoulders, "you've just survived your first attack by the bad guys. Welcome to Metropolis. Now--"

Later on, Clark realized there were probably other ways to handle what was to happen next. What exactly those ways were, he wasn't sure, but there had to be something, anything, less obvious and, well, less idiotic, that he could have done. At the time, he was only conscious of a pang of horror as he realized the floor was literally falling out from beneath him and the desperate thought that he'd finally found the woman of his dreams and he would *not* lose her now. From there, his subconscious took over and he suddenly found himself soaring into the air with her held tightly in his arms.

The woman of his dreams didn't seem to realize exactly how romantic the situation was.

Lois gasped as the elevator she'd been in a half a second before was demolished at the ground dozens upon dozens of feet below, followed by what she recognized as the remnants of a bomb. Of course. they could just cut the elevator's supports like normal villains, could they? Oh, no. They had to show off and use a bomb. What else?

Her shocked gaze lingered on the scattered wreckage and then shifted back to the dozens and dozens of feet of empty space. Very empty space. In fact, there was nothing at all between her and the ground. Absolutely nothing to stop her from plummeting to that ground. Nothing but...

Lois suppressed a panicked shriek and instead snapped her head upwards to sputter, "You...how...you put me down!"

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.

Clark looked at her reaction and realized that he had to
keep going and he had to make it as gentle and caring as
possible.

"Can I see the stone that Superman gave you?"

"Stone?" Lois asked incredulously.

"Yes," Clark said. "The stone that's in your pocket."

Lois had promised Superman that she would keep it safe, and
there it rested in the pocket of her favorite sweater. She
removed the unique piece of Brazilian quartz, whose color
under the cyc lights seemed to radiate an even more
beautiful pink glow than it had when Superman had first
given it to her, and handed it quietly to Clark.

"This stone symbolizes love," he said to her.

"Clark, you don't think that I'm in love with..."

"No," Clark responded softly. He smiled at her and looked
down at the stone. "Friends...they cherish one another's
hopes. They are..." he read aloud.

"It's not finished," Lois told him. "Superman..."

Clark lowered his glasses and two red beams emerged etching
the stone. He handed it silently back to Lois.

"...kind to each other's dreams," she read.

"Lois, I'm..." he started.

"Superman..." Lois whispered, staring at him.

Clark paused, looking at her as she took all of this in.
"How mad are you?" he asked.

Lois felt the knot in her stomach intensifying as she
thought of how Clark had lied to her--the made up excuses
when he ran off, the not being there when she needed him to
be, and how he should have trusted her enough to have told
her. <The remedy for love is to love more,> she thought.

"What do you mean, 'you guess so Nevermind, I'll take that as a yes. And you didn't tell me? What am I saying? Of course you didn't tell me. Every time you got yourself into the paper for rescuing someone, I kept telling you how ridiculous the whole thing was. I can't
believe it; I was talking to the 'Angel' and telling him that he was a hallucination and a fairy tale. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Yes, that's it. I'm hallucinating. You're not really a flying man, you're just good ol' Clark. I'm just dreaming all of this. That's right. It's a dream, that's all."

"It's not a dream, Lois. And I'm actually kind of glad that you didn't believe in the Angel."

"You are?"

"Of course. If this weren't me, if this weren't happening to me, if it weren't my life, I certainly wouldn't believe it."

"So if you are the 'Angel,' what exactly are you? Are you really an angel?" she asked as she walked around him, looking at his back. "Are there some wings back here that I failed to notice?"

"No, no I'm not really an angel," he said.

"Then what are you?" She saw the pained look on his face and wished that she had phrased the question more tactfully.

"I don't know exactly. My parents think I was some sort of scientific experiment, either by the Soviets or by the Americans. I don't know. I always kind of thought I might not even be from Earth at all."

"You mean like an alien?"

"Yeah, I mean, it might explain all the weird things...."

"Yes. I thought you were human. Humans are...a fragile and short-lived species. A single bullet to the chest and they just fall apart and DIE. I, on the other hand, wince and then get up and walk away. Here, help me up."

Clark, bemused, helped Lois sit up. Or a Lois who claimed not to be Lois.

"Clark, I'm an alien. More alien to humans than you are. An alien who thinks a bullet to the chest isn't much worse than a paper cut. Though it stings a bit more. What is the life expectancy of a human male? 70? 80 years? Clark, my people wait longer than that to get a drivers license!"

"Are you saying you're too old for me?" he asked.

"I'm saying I've been using Lois Lane's driver's license for over two years rather than wait for my own," she quickly backpedaled.

"Lois," Clark interrupted. "Lois - stop. Please."

She drew a long breath again, trying to blink back tears. "I really don't want to hurt you, Superman, but this is the way it has to be."

"No, Lois," he insisted. "There's something I *have* to tell you, now. Please, won't you turn around and look at me?"

Slowly, Lois turned to face him. But what she saw was... Clark, in the clothes he had been wearing when he'd left her apartment. Only he wasn't wearing his glasses, and his hair was slicked back.

"Lois - do you understand now?" he asked her, in Superman's voice.

"I - Clark - Superman..." Lois tried to form the words, but couldn't.

"Lois, I am Clark. I always have been. Superman's a disguise. I did it so I could have a normal life... help where I can, but not be constantly in the public eye, have some... privacy..." He shrugged helplessly, hoping she would understand.

"I was going to tell you everything this morning -" he continued.

"I was going to tell you today that <...>," Lois interrupted, amazed that they had both been planning to tell each other their secrets that same day.

She came to his side and took his hand. "Clark, what are you doing? You have to let them take care of you. You've lost a lot of blood."

He squeezed her hand as he steeled his nerves to tell her what he had to. "Lois, I need you to listen to me." He waited until she met his gaze. "I need you to call Dr. Klein."

"Bernie Klein? Why?"

"He's the only one that can help me."

"But he's a scientist at Star Labs."

"Yes. He also studies Superman's biology." Clark squeezed her hand again. "He's my doctor, Lois."

She took in his words, noticing for the first time that he wasn't wearing his glasses. He couldn't possibly be saying what she thought he was saying. Slowly she reached down and smoothed his hair back on his head. "Oh God!"

"I am so sorry you had to find out this way. I wanted to be the one to tell you. But Lois, I need your help now."

Lois was stunned. Clark had just told her that he was Superman. How could that be? All the time they'd worked together. The things she'd told both of them came back to her in a flash. The anger was rising; the betrayal stung. How could he have done this to her?

"I *know* that!" she exclaimed, unable to keep her anger in check any longer. "Don't you think I've been replaying that scene over and over in my head for the past few hours? Not only because of all those questions they asked me back
there, forcing me to relive my partner's death until I couldn't talk or even think any more, but also ever since I came home and had to face my life without you! Only to discover that all this time I hardly knew you at all! But that obviously didn't bother you too much, did it?"

"Lois, *you* are the person who knows me best.You even know things about me that I never told anyone else."

"Sure! Like how you spend half of your time wearing tights and a cape to save the world?"

She heard him sigh, a drained sound almost like a groan, but he didn't reply to her question. Not that any answer he could give her would be satisfying, she mused crossly.

"You're trying to deny the truth *now*?" she asked, her voice quivering with pent-up fury when he didn't make any attempt to confirm her accusation.

"What? Did you realize I was falling in love with him and decide to get rid of the competition? Oh, I forgot. You're Superman," she continued sarcastically. "You'd never do anything like that. You can't even admit that you're attracted to me. So, of course, you'd never do anything to take away the only man who ever truly loved me," she snorted.

"You know, time was," she continued, "when I would have thought you were too noble to do something like that. But the truth is that you just don't have the guts. Instead, you let Clyde do the dirty work. You just made sure you were conveniently absent. You did the same thing with Lex. Don't get me wrong. I understand why you did it with Lex, but Clark? What did Clark ever do to you - except love me? Damn you!"

He lowered his hand as his own anger rose. He'd seen how she'd spent the night Clark died. He knew what Clark meant to her. How dare she pretend Clark meant more to her than that? How dare she blame this on him?

"Don't be melodramatic," he growled. "I know exactly how little Clark meant to you."

"How dare you," she spat. "Clark meant everything to me."

He snorted. "He meant so much that you were in bed with another man before my body was even cold! You didn't think I knew, did you? Yeah, I was there," he continued in response to the look of shock that appeared on her face. "I came by to make sure you were all right. And I saw you in bed with that man. So don't tell me how much Clark meant to you. How you died when he was killed. How his death is my fault. I know the truth, Lois. I know exactly what Clark meant to you," he hissed.

"What?" he asked, when she didn't respond. She looked confused, shocked even. Didn't she think that Superman could lose his temper, too? He stood there for a moment, trying to read the series of emotions that were flitting across her face.

When she finally did speak again, her voice was no more than a whisper. "Clark," she said, her voice half statement and half disbelieving question.

She straightened and stared at Clark again in disbelief and wonderment. In silence, he closed the door and laid the box on the nearest surface, then turned to meet her gaze. He seemed to draw himself up to his full height,then watched her with an odd expression on his face. Proud, resigned...curious.

He seemed to be waiting for her to speak, but she simply couldn't find the words.

He smiled wryly, then in a swift gesture removed his glasses. "Make sense now?" he asked her quietly.

It did. Everything fell into place. Clark was Superman. No, that wasn't quite right, she thought, bewildered. Superman was Clark - yes, that was it. It had to be - after all, Clark had been Clark all his life. It was only in the last year or so that he had also been Superman.

He raised an eyebrow as she continued to say nothing. "Lois, are you okay? Because I mean, if you need to scream at me or hit me or something, I'd like to know because maybe I'd want to fly us somewhere you could do it where we won't be overheard...."

He was so careful of her, she thought, feeling that warmth gather, deep within her. So kind. He was ... she felt that broad, slightly goofy smile start to spread across her face again and hurriedly quashed it ... *incredible*. He was ... he was ...

A flicker of confusion pricked at her blissfully meandering thoughts as a sudden, new reality intruded upon them. She frowned.

He ... was ...

Oh ... my ... God ... !

Her eyes snapped wide, frozen in an almost comical expression of shock and dawning horror as she scrambled upwards, kicking out frantically to jerk herself free of the arms holding her, almost dislodging herself over the edge of the bed in her panic to get loose. She felt him slip from where he rested, warm and soothing against her, and, despite the frantic mantra rushing through her mind ...

Nonononononononononononononononnonononononono ... ... oh God, *NO*!!

... she still felt a small, cold sense of loss as he left her.

She heard a soft grunt of surprise and then her scrabbling fingers found the lamp on the cabinet beside her and the room flooded with light.

Lois stared in shock at the man kneeling dazedly beside her, his eyes blinking bemused into the light as he scrubbed a hand through his hair.

The stranger beside her.

Well no, not a stranger. He was all too darned familiar. But he might as well have been. Because he certainly wasn't the man she'd thought he was.

And he wasn't the man she'd made love to.

Lois clutched desperately at the sheet, dragging it around her, clenching it tight against her throat in white-knuckled fists as though it was armor plate that could protect her from the whirlwind of emotions tearing through her.

Panic ... fear ... fury ... pain ... hurt ... rage ...

Rage.

Lois realized she'd made a big mistake the minute the bat connected solidly with the broad chest of her partner. The resulting jolt almost snapped her wrists and the answering judder that traveled up the length of the wood and into her arms was so strong it threw her from her feet and wrenched the bat out of suddenly numb and nerveless fingers. She found herself landing on her backside on the carpet an instant later. From which position, she stared up at the man before her in dumbfounded amazement.

"Oh, my, Go -- Cl...ark...?"

Her eyes traveled down across his body and over the bat lying - in two pieces and several splinters of wood - on the carpet. All color drained abruptly from a face suddenly ashen. "Oh, my, God!" She leapt hastily to her feet, her hands flying over his chest and arms as she frantically searched him for bruises or broken bones.

"Lois - "

"Oh, God...Clark..." she continued, dazedly, "I could have - what did I just do? What did I almost do?" Finding no sign of injury on him, she stepped back a pace. She put a shaken hand to her mouth, looking up at him with shock in her eyes. "I could have broken some bones with that bat, your shoulder, damaged your spine...what was I *thinking*? What was I - ?"

"No, you couldn't," Clark pointed out calmly. In the shock of it all - he could see - she still hadn't fully grasped the enormity of what she'd discovered. She was still floundering, trying to pick her way through. Her conscious brain just hadn't caught up with events yet. But it would in a moment or two, he was sure. "Lois, I think you should sit down."

He reached out a hand and eased her back towards the bed. She sank down onto the edge of the mattress absently.

"No." Lois repeated, bewildered. "I couldn't." Then, reiterating the realization as it began - finally - to sink in, "No...I couldn't, could I?" She lifted her eyes to find his face again and this time he saw the shock recede and clarity - real clarity - fill the void it left behind in her expression. She understood. At last, she understood everything.

"Lois - "

"You are...him. You...you're...Superman!"

Only then, as she clung to Clark, barely able to grasp the fact that she was still alive, had she started to piece things together.

The grey and black blur had been Clark, rushing across the room to her.

*Clark* had pushed her backwards, had run into the path of the bullet.

*Clark* had been shot...?

But no, that couldn't be. He was unharmed, wasn't he? He was holding her, carrying her out of the room.

She stole a look at his face. It bore a look of grim determination... and resignation. And there was something horribly, wonderfully familiar about that face, suddenly.

Clark had come across the room to her at faster than human speed. At *Super*-human speed.

Clark had been hit with the bullet - he had to, there was no way he could have avoided it. He'd been hit, and he was unharmed.

And his expression... the grim look, the resolute set of his jaw, the concern in his brown eyes as he glanced down at her...

"You're Superman!" she accused.

A brief nod was his only response. Then she noticed that the air was rushing past then very quickly, and also that it was steadily getting darker... then she looked down and realised that they were flying. She gasped, and clutched more tightly at Clark's clothing.

"I won't drop you," he said. Then, grimacing, he added, "The Planet or your apartment?"

"Uhh..." She couldn't think straight for a moment. Then she found her voice again. "The Planet. There's a story to write!"

"Okay," he said, slowly, glancing at her shyly and then looking away again. "I will. Before I do, I want you to know that I've always wanted to tell you this, but I've been so paranoid about hiding this for so long that it's been hard to even think about letting you in on my secret. So I'm going to tell you for a couple of reasons. One, I love you, and I want you to know about this because it wouldn't be fair for us to get even more involved and not let you know. And two, there's a big problem that this secret has caused for both of us, and if anyone can figure out how to solve this problem, it's you. I've been wracking my brain, and I can't figure out a solution."

He glanced at her to see how she was reacting. She was focused on him, obviously listening to and thinking about every word that he said. "I need you to know that I do trust you, and that's not why I didn't tell you right away. It's just that the timing wasn't right to tell you before."

"And it is now?" she asked, quietly.

"Yes. I've been close to telling you for a long time now. But, like any man, there are things that I'm insecure about, and that's held me back. I'm not happy telling you here in this place," he gestured around the room, "but I'm happy to tell you. Sort of." He grimaced. "Actually, when I think about it, happy's the wrong word. Terrified - that's the word. But I do want you to know," he sighed, "even though you'll probably kill me."

"Clark, I've never seen you so nervous," Lois said as she took his hand. She gently squeezed it. "You've said a lot about your secret. I think you'll feel better when you tell me what it is."

Clark nodded and took a deep breath. "I'm Superman."

"What?"

"Actually, Superman's me. I've always been Clark. I only started being Superman after I moved here to Metropolis. I wanted to help people, but I wanted to have a normal life, and..."

"Hold on just a second, buster! You're him... He's you..."

Clark gazed at her, guiltily. "Uh huh."

"Really?" Lois asked, plaintively.

"Yeah." Clark floated up off the couch to prove it.

Lois leaned back on Clark's solid chest, for support. That
had been too close. If Clark hadn't gotten them both out
of there, they might well have been killed. Good thing he
was so strong and fast. Not to mention nimble; she would
have expected some stumbling as they retreated that
quickly, but the movement had been very smooth. They might
have been sliding on rails... or flying.

Lois told herself sternly to stop imagining things. Clark
did not fly.

With one last squeeze, Clark let go of her waist, and
stepped past her to take a turn watching what little they
could see of the action.

He was awfully fast, though. And without his glasses, in
her memories, he had kind of looked familiar...

No, she must be crazy. Clark had nothing in common with
Superman. Well, except for a fantastic body and unusually
good hearing...

She forced herself to breathe slowly as a hundred images
and incidents came to mind, all things that hadn't made
sense at the time, but which fitted a certain pattern, in
retrospect. No, she was cracking up under stress. It had
been hard for her to choose between Clark and Superman, but
she had done so, and she was happy with her choice. She
didn't need wild fantasies about Clark leading some sort of
double life... though she knew he was hiding some kind of
big secret...

Feeling shaky, she looked up at Clark. He was looking
steadily toward the pile of crates between them and Toni.
With his glasses halfway down his nose. What sort of
person sees better without glasses?

And then everything fell into place, and out of all
recognition.

"You aren't married or anything are you? No secret wife in Borneo? No three children hidden away somewhere?"

"No," he laughed. Sometimes she had the most outrageous imagination. "Nothing like that. No, no secret family. I've wanted to tell you for a while, but there were reasons that I didn't feel like I could or should."

"You don't trust me?" her voice caught on the question.

"Lo...is. Think about it. If I didn't trust you, would I be trying to tell you now?"

"I guess not. But that doesn't mean that you didn't trust me earlier. So why didn't you tell me before?"

Clark sighed heavily. Somehow, this conversation had gotten all turned around. He tried desperately to regain control. "Let's talk about *why* I haven't told you after we talk about *what* I haven't told you, okay?"

"All right. So what have you been hiding?"

Dealing with the Nightfall asteroid hadn't been this hard. This conversation was becoming more difficult by the moment. "You know how I sometimes run off with a flimsy excuse?"

"Yes." She still didn't understand what he was getting at. "I've always sort of thought you were avoiding intimacy."

"I know. But it isn't that at all. Think about it, Lois. What always happens right after I run off?"

"No," she whispered. "No, that can't be it." She stared at her best friend.

"What happens, Lois?" he gently prodded. Clark battled the urge to take her hands as she pondered his question. He wanted to touch her, but he wasn't at all certain that he had the right any longer. Minutes felt like hours as he watched her work out the puzzle. Finally, comprehension dawned in her expression.

"Superman shows up somewhere."

Clark slowly dragged himself up on one elbow, wincing the whole time. "Tha...
over there... Krypt...ite," he mumbled.

Jimmy swung around, then saw for the first time a green glow coming from the
corner. So that was Kryptonite! He'd heard of it, of course, but never actually
seen it before. He wondered briefly what a tiny group of neo-Nazis were doing
with Kryptonite, but then told himself that it was clearly insurance against
Superman turning up to help his friend. The real question was, he told himself,
how they'd got hold of it in the first place.

But that wasn't the important issue right now. *That* was getting Clark out of
here in one piece. And that wasn't going to be easy, but they would manage it.
There was no way that Jimmy would leave Clark here - he didn't even want to take
the risk of leaving the house and calling the police from his cellphone. If
those crazies upstairs knew that their hideout had been discovered, they would
more than likely kill Clark before he could be rescued.

The Kryptonite was clearly causing Clark some pain, so Jimmy needed to find a
way of dealing with it. If only...

Wait a minute!

Kryptonite was hurting *Clark*?

Then... that meant...

Jimmy turned back to study his friend and former colleague, who had collapsed
back on the ground. Bending, he carefully removed Clark's shattered glasses, and
studied his friend's face.

CK was Superman.

It was an old photo of the
young Superman, a boyish twenty-something figure. He
guessed it must have been taken at least twenty-five years ago,
but it was still a more popular image with kids than the
somewhat avuncular Superman of the present. Come to think
of it, Superman looked to be about the same age as his own
parents, he thought, remembering the handful of newspaper
photos and TV interviews he'd seen recently. A hale and
amazingly strong figure, but undoubtedly middle-aged. *Why
does that poster seem so familiar?* he wondered. It had been
a dozen years or more since he'd had the same one, and while
he certainly had no trouble recognizing Superman, that didn't
explain the feeling of everyday familiarity he got from looking
at it. It was as if he were looking at a picture of ####, or $$$$ and @@@@, or his roommate, or...
****, who at that opportune moment appeared in the
doorway, smiling and bidding them a cheerful good morning.
With a Herculean effort, ```` kept his jaw from dropping and
his eyes from popping and returned her greeting in something
resembling his normal voice. She couldn't see the poster, since
it was on the same wall as the door, and ```` remembered that
she hadn't been in ####'s room at all yet. He wondered if she
would've stayed where she was, looking as she did, if she had
known. She'd just come from the shower and was enveloped
in a red terry robe. Her wet hair was combed severely back in
unconscious mimicry of the figure on the poster, not a yard
from where she stood. Thad's normally ordered thoughts were
an unaccustomed jumble. *What the...?* *How on...?*
*Who...?*
#### shared none of his confusion. "*You* look just
like Superman," he informed **** in a matter-of-fact voice.
She giggled nervously. Giggling was uncharacteristic
of her; when she was amused she either chuckled or laughed
heartily. Then she crossed her arms across her chest,
unwittingly enhancing the likeness, and said, "I dunno, ####,
our hair and eyes are about the same color, but the world is full
of people with dark hair and eyes."
#### accepted her explanation, being young enough
still to be distracted by the fact that she was a woman in a
bathrobe rather than a man in tights and too young to realize
the implications of the resemblance. ````, however, saw
****'s explanation was. Same hair
and eye color, indeed! There was that, plus the same broad-
shouldered, athletic frame, the same large hands, the same
posture and mannerisms, and most of all the same facial
features. Her nose was a little narrower, and there were other
small differences, but overall her features and Superman's had
the same unusual combination of smoothness and strength. He
had never seen two people resemble each other so much unless
they were closely related, siblings or parent and child, and not
often then. He certainly didn't look that much like either of his
parents. But that would mean...that would make her...how
could that *be*?

She reached out to hold his hand. "Clark, that wasn't your fault!
It about killed me to see you... " Her voice broke, sending
another stab of guilt into Clark's soul. "But you couldn't help
it!"

"That's not exactly what I meant." Clark took a deep breath; here
went nothing. "Clark Kent was shot and killed -- lost all his
friends, his job, his life... " A shiver went through him,
remembering the desolation he'd faced -- and that he now faced
again. "But I wasn't."

She glared at him in angry bafflement. "What, you're not Clark?
You're not making any sense here! Did Professor Hamilton scramble
your brains or something?"

"I am Clark, I have been for all my life, almost thirty years. But
Clark isn't all that I am. I'm also Superman." Saying that had
been surprisingly easy, at least compared to the next sentence.
"I was never really dead."

"I didn't dism - Hang on a minute! How do you know what I told Superman?"

And suddenly, the animation was back. The bleakness in her eyes had vanished, to be replaced by a look of challenge.

"Lois, you do know me very well. But there is one thing about me that you don't know. That you probably don't suspect." It was a split-second decision and he knew it, but keeping his secret from her seemed superfluous now. He trusted her with the information, so that wasn't even an
issue. As for her feelings towards his alter-ego, it had become clear to him tonight that Lois would never be his anyway, so it really didn't matter that she professed love for Superman.

And anyway, anything which took that dead look from her eyes, anything which distracted her from her defeated attitude of a few moments ago, was worth it.

He took a deep breath. "I know what you told Superman today because I was there."

"You were there? I didn't see you th... Oh..." She stared at him for a moment, and he resisted the immediate urge to squirm under her scrutiny. When understanding finally
dawned on her, he tensed. "Oh," she said again, in a much smaller voice this time. "You're... you were *there*. I... see. Clark, can I sit?"

He nodded mutely.

His question, instead of making her curious, suddenly struck a nerve. She pulled back from him, a little ashamed of herself. "You know, I didn't even know that you could dance. I never bothered to ask," she admitted sadly, her eyes downcast. There had been so many times in the last year and a half that she had just dismissed him as a country hack from Nowheresville. She had never taken the opportunity to learn more about him. She was sorry for that, but before she could tell him, he was already reaching for her again.

His eyes twinkled as he tucked his finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. "Well, Lois, to tell you the truth, this isn't dancing."

"It's not?" There was laughter in her voice, along with a little disbelief. What in the world had he meant by that statement?

"No," he emphasized, still smiling. "*This* is."

And then she was floating--not just metaphorically this time, as she had when he'd kissed her, but quite literally! Both of her bare feet were a good six inches off the floor, and she wiggled them experimentally, her confused mind wondering for a split second just how he had managed to pull off a trick like this.

She looked down at her feet, then back at him in complete amazement. "Clark!" This was no trick at all! They were really floating in mid air, right in the middle of her living room! Her jaw dropped as everything fell into place, and although she tried, her thoughts were not turning into coherent sentences. "We're...we're...and you're...you're..."

"Yeah," he answered, somewhat sheepishly, and he looked like he was bracing himself for something. "I am."