Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Fanfic Related Cluechie Quiz Resurrected!

And now she knew why his uncovered eyes looked at once so familiar and so strange. Because she'd seen them a hundred times before, but never - except in daydreams and nighttime fantasies - filled with warm emotion. And she'd never seen them on her partner's face.

Except it had always been her partner's face.

She shivered. Her eyes travelled to his hair. Yes, flatten that and slick it back, and his whole face would look different.

Her eyes slid downwards, past the sensuous mouth that so recently... No. Down to the strong neck and the broad, muscular chest. Cover that with blue spandex, add a red cape...

Her hands were still resting on his shoulders. His naked shoulders. She snatched them away, trembling, and tried to wrap her arms around herself.

He caught one hand, carried it to his lips. "Lois..."

"Omigod," she whimpered, shutting her eyes tightly, "I was seducing Superman!" What must he think of her?

Thank God this moment, which was inevitable and always had been,
whether or not he'd ever taken on the persona of Superman, had been
delayed this long. Long enough for him to meet her, to love her, to
have her love him. To have raised a family. To have seen his parents
into their graves contented late into their years.

Thank God he'd had as long as he had as Clark Kent, a man he loved. A
man he loved being. A man he would miss.

But a man whose time was over.

He spun. The cameras rolled. There were shouts and exclamations from
all corners of the ballroom before a profound quiet fell.

"Don't say never. There's something I haven't told you. I've wanted to for weeks ... months. But I couldn't ... as long as you were going to marry Luthor."

She bit her lip. "If it was something that Lex could have used to hurt you, you were probably right."

"He could have," Clark said, slowly. "He definitely could have. There's no question of that. I should have told you afterwards, though." He pushed himself shakily up on his elbow again and raised his free hand to remove his glasses. "Luthor lured me to the basement of Lex Tower -- his wine cellar. He wanted me to use my influence to convince Clark Kent to attend your wedding. He couldn't know, of course, that he was speaking to Clark. I told him I wouldn't do it -- that I'd use every power at my disposal to stop the wedding. That's when he told me that he had no more use for me. He dropped the cage over me. The bars were coated with Kryptonite, and I couldn't get away. I was there for over a day. I thought I was going to die there." He raised his face to let her look him directly in the eyes. "Look at me, Lois. Tell me who you see."

**********

It was all falling into place.

Lois stared at her partner's naked face, unmasked by the horn-rimmed glasses. In the past week she had discovered that many of the things she thought she knew weren't true at all. She
shouldn't have been surprised.

Superman's face. Superman.

Omigod! She looked up at Clark and he was taking his
glasses off.

She lifted a hand up to touch his face. "Clark. Superman."
Her fingers were all over his face and her mind was far
away - remembering and putting all the pieces together.

"Yes, Lois. I'm Superman," Clark answered matter-of-factly.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Lois."

"What?"

"The reason I keep running off. It's... I'm..."

"You're afraid of me, of US, aren't you?"

"What? No! It's not that! It's not that at all! God, Lois!
Nothing could be further from the truth."

"Then, what is it?"

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."

"Clark!" she screeched.

"Lois, I can explain-" he began, not really all that aware
of what he was saying.

"You can - you can explain? You just waltz in from the
*ceiling*, and you can *explain*?"

"It's not like it looks," he said lamely.

“Just watch.” And he whirled, his heart in his mouth.

When he slowed, he realised that Lois was swaying. He swept out an arm and caught her, tugging her into his arms again.

For about the first time since he’d known her, Lois Lane was speechless.

"Lois, I'm Superman," Clark responded.

Lois almost burst out laughing. He had just taken lying to an all new level. Everyone knew that when you lied, you should at least attempt to make the lie believable - something that couldn't be disproved - but Clark... It suddenly occurred to Lois that she had never seen Clark without his glasses before - not even when they'd made love earlier. When she'd tried to remove them, he'd stopped her - making a comment about wanting to be able to see her. But in spite of never having seen him without his glasses, he looked... familiar somehow. In fact, he looked a lot like... She gasped.

"You want to know where I was tonight," Clark continued rising to his feet and making his way to the television. He turned it on and switched the channel to LNN.

"I do have a... a genetic condition, I think you called it. It's
not quite what you thought, though. I'm... not human. I don't
know how I managed to get you pregnant, because I shouldn't be
genetically compatible with humans."

He was doing it again. This time the whirling in her head was
worse than ever.

"Clark... you look human to me. What do you mean, 'not human'?"

He gave a humourless chuckle. "'All the parts of a man.' Lois,
I come from another planet. Called -"

"Krypton." She nodded, clutched at her head as the room swayed
in response. All the blood seemed to have left her body.

It made no sense.

She shut her eyes.

She nodded. "Where did you get this? Where's Clark? Is he all right?" The intensity of her whisper made echoes bounce around the mine again. A little rain of gravel answered it.

Superman bit his lip and Lois felt her heart sink. "He's all right! Say he's all right, Superman!" Appalled, she felt the prickle of tears in her eyes and a sudden ache in her throat. Clark couldn't be hurt--or-- She couldn't even bring herself to think the word. "Please!"

He put a cautioning hand on her wrist to stem the flood of words. "Shh! He's all right, Lois. I promise."

The relief was almost overwhelming, and she felt the tears spill over. She wiped them away, fiercely trying to regain her self-control. "Where *is* he?"

"Here." The word was so low she wasn't sure she heard it correctly.

"What?"

"He's here, Lois. *I'm* Clark."

"I don't know what to do now, Mom. I've made Lois look like a fool and when she finds out, she'll never forgive me. She'll never believe that I screwed up this badly because I love her, and I'm jealous of myself."

Huh? Lois rewound the tape a bit to listen to this part of the conversation again. What did he mean, jealous of himself? And how had he made her look like a fool?

"I don't know, Mom. You don't know Lois like I do. I don't know how in the world I could ever tell her now. I should never have done it. She was just supposed to lose interest in Superman, but I didn't mean to make an idiot out of her. Oh, God, I wish I'd never invented Superman!"

What? He wished he'd never what?? He didn't invent Superman. He couldn't invent Superman. Superman was a person. Superman was... Superman was... a disguise. Superman was a man with insecurities. Superman was ... Clark Kent. Lois sat frozen as the tape played on.

She refilled the glass, deciding to take it with her back to bed, turned, allowed herself a glance at Clark - and nearly dropped the glass and had to grip it.
Clark was not on the couch. He was over it. Hovering. Floating. Maybe two feet higher than the couch surface, just a bit higher than the couch back. The robe had slipped off him and was lying crumpled on the floor. His back was to her but she could tell he was clutching his pillow. He floated there as though he might actually have been lying on a bed, his legs drawn up a bit, though his back appeared straight, reminding her of one of those orthopedic mattress commercials.
Not wanting to take her eyes off him, she eased forward until she could sense the table and set the glass down there so silently a tomb would envied her.
I can't just *stand* here, I have to *do* something about this... My camera, yes!

Clark took and released a deep breath, gathering up all of his nerve.
"Ok, here goes. Lois, for most of the time you've known me ... most
of the time I've lived in Metropolis ... I've led a double life."

Lois looked confused, then nervous. "You're not a criminal, are
you?" she squeaked.

Clark almost laughed. "No, nothing like that."

Lois's eyes narrowed. "Damn it, you're married!! I *knew* you were
too good to be true!"

Clark rolled his eyes. "No! Lois, I'm not married. And I'm not
gay, either," he hurried to add, seeing her mouth open once more. He
called it right -- she closed her mouth quickly, looking a little
embarrassed.

"Ok, Clark, then what is it?"

"Lois, I think the only way to tell you this is just to come out and
say it." He hesitated for a moment. "I'm ... Superman."

A full range of emotions played out on Lois's face right before
Clark's eyes. First, she looked at him like he was crazy, then,
realizing he was serious, she blinked rapidly as she let herself
consider the possibility. Finally, she simply stared, amazed,
studying his face.

Clark took off his glasses. "Does this help?" he asked.

It did. "Oh ... my ... God," Lois whispered slowly. She was
obviously working hard to wrap her mind around this fact, but it was
a losing battle. She looked at him, stunned. "But you can't be.
Superman is from--"

"Krypton," Clark stated quietly. "I was born on Krypton."

What was he doing? He was spinning, whirling himself around right in front of her. But why? What on earth was he...?

And then she began to see traces of blue and red, and a tiny bit of yellow, in the whirling dervish which stood before her, and she caught her breath in shock.

Those colours - or the precise shade of those colours - were very familiar to her. And suddenly it all made sense.

Clark's disappearances. His excuses and inability to explain himself. The anxious looks he got before running off. Just how he'd managed to do so many of the weird things he did - and how he always seemed to know when the bad guys were coming. Why he was never around, anyway, when danger struck.

And why Superman was never to be seen other than in an emergency situation, other than for a brief minute or two.

Two guises... one man.

One Super man.

And now he was standing in front of her, arms folded across his chest in the familiar pose... but he was watching her with a strangely uncertain expression on his face. And she realised that he was anxious about what her reaction would be.

It happened at that moment. The neon sign appeared in brilliant rainbow colors of light, pointing to the simple combination of wood frames and glass. The connection was confirmed, and like
electricity meeting with metal, the energy created jolted her to her core. She allowed the words to meet, consummate and procreate. There was no blood. Superman didn't bleed. There was
no blood because Superman didn't bleed. Clark hadn't bled. Clark hadn't bled because Clark was Superman. Clark was Superman. And if Clark was Superman, Clark couldn't be killed by mere bullets. Clark couldn't be dead. Clark was alive.

Her gaze shifted to the window, her attention caught by something outside. No, some*one* outside.

A face. A very familiar face, but in profile.

A strong jaw, firm chin, high forehead, lips turned up at the corners slightly as they always did when he was thinking about something pleasant...

Superman was outside.

But what was Superman doing outside her apartment window? Why didn't he come in? Why was he just hovering there, watching her and Clark?

She moved, opened her mouth, about to say his name. "Su -"

And the image moved. The *reflection* moved.

And she realised that that was all it had been. A reflection.

Clark's reflection.

He turned to face her, and the clues all dropped into place.

She opened her eyes and found herself staring across the desks, yet again, at Clark Kent. He smiled at her, then fanned his keyboard, which appeared to be smoking slightly. She frowned.

Clark had gotten a haircut last night, too. What was it with men? Did they all time their haircuts? Or maybe they used the same barber.

Lois laughed aloud, earning some strange looks and a “cuckoo” symbol from Cat.

The same barber. That was ridiculous. Although they *had* both gotten exactly the same hairc--

Lois sat up fast. Clark and Superman... they’d both had pretty much the same haircuts yesterday... She shuffled through the papers on her desk, pulling out a picture of Superman from a few days ago.

"I've looked. Every inch and more than once. Below Metropolis, all those lead pipes, well, that was my last reasonable hope."

"And it's come up empty. So now what?"

Clark laughed an empty laugh. "So now I go back to the Daily Planet, sit at my desk, picture her
waltzing in with the story of the century. 'The Year I Spent Invisible' by Lois Lane, something like that."

Henderson looked at Superman for a long time. Long enough for the silence to bring the superhero back from his own thoughts.

Their eyes met.

"Oh." Superman said. "Oh..."

"Who IS that masked man?" the lady in the Victorian garb asked, drawing Lois's attention away from the scene in front of her, if only for a moment. As far as anyone in that room was concerned, he was just Zorro, the mysterious hero in black. This woman surely had no idea that underneath the facade was an ordinary farm boy from the heart of the nation's breadbasket, as normal and average as anyone else. He wasn't the prototypical hero; in fact, Lois wouldn't have known before tonight that Clark had it in him to face down something like this.

"That's just..." Lois started, intending to tell the woman that it was her partner up there, a mild-manner journalist, but suddenly he wasn't there anymore. In a blur of motion, both Clark and the gunman were gone, although the gunman quickly reappeared again, dazed, tied to one of the chairs at Lois's table. In a matter of moments, before anyone in the room could comprehend what was going on, all the other gunmen disappeared, reappearing only after being bound to other objects around the room. After a moment, another figure also materialized, this one dressed in blue and red, his uniform unmistakable, although his eyes were obscured by a black mask and his head was covered in a black hat.

"Superman!" the woman said, completing Lois's sentence, which was just as well, because Lois could only manage a squeak as she looked at him. In his arms were the guns that had previously been pointed at various dignitaries, guns which were now twisted and mangled, guns which were being dropped to the floor with a dull thud even as she watched. As soon as his hands were free, Superman reached up and pulled off the hat, revealing dark, slicked down hair, then removed the mask. He had never had his glasses on, Lois realized as his face was revealed. That whole night, there had never been lenses between his eyes and hers, and she hadn't even noticed.

Confused, she looked from Clark to the glowing rock in Hendricks'hand, then back again. Then her eyes grew wide with sudden realization and she gasped as things began to fall into place.

Clark was Superman!

The room started to spin crazily and the blood drained from her face. Instantly, everything began to make sense: all those times when Clark had made a hasty retreat whenever some crime or disaster was taking place, all thosse ridiculous excuses, and most of all, why she'd never seen the two men together.
But before she had time to sort out the flood of emotions that threatened to everwelm her, a loud shout brought things around her back into focus. She saw that once again Hendricks was moving toward Clark, causing Clark's tormented cries to fill the air.

"Stop!" Lois shouted frantically, finally understanding what was happening. "Get away from him! You're killing him!"

Superman," she whispered. Lois stared into his eyes, unable to look away. Her mind whirled and her words came out in an incoherent jumble. "Your eyes." They were Superman's eyes. "Your voice." Clark's voice. "How?" They were in Clark's bedroom, and she had immediately assumed she was sleeping with Clark, but those steely muscles had to belong to Superman. She reached out to touch his hair. His dark, thick, silky, sleep-mussed hair. Superman could get bed head? "Your hair. It moves. I thought it was stuck to your head." He flew at speeds faster than a speeding bullet without one hair falling out of place. "Bed head. How can you get bed head?" She shook her head wildly. Then she abruptly stopped, surrendering to the pain coursing through her skull, stopping her thought process. "But Clark. Clark can get bed head."

She blinked, trying to merge the images of two separate men into one. They eyes. The hair. The body. The voice. Everything began to fall into place. Clark and Superman. Superman and
Clark. Each man was someone she knew so well, but didn't know at all. Or did she know them both all too well? "Oh my god," she breathed. "You're Clark. And Superman." And she needed to get out of there. She was humiliated, frightened, betrayed, yet intrigued. With him so close, she had no time to digest everything that had happened in the last few seconds.

"Lois . . ." Clark stared at her blankly, frozen in place. After staring at her speechless for what seemed like an eternity, he found his voice. "Yes," he said simply in a voice no louder than a whisper. "I am Clark. And Superman."

Eventually, though, the hot water had soothed away his aches and
pains, yet it had done little to dispel his tiredness. He'd just
stepped out of the shower and had pulled on a pair of jeans when
Lois stormed into his room. He stopped drying his hair and looked
up at her.

"How can you be sick? I thought you were invulnerable."

"I thought so, too." He froze when he realized what she'd said
and how he'd answered her. "What did you say?"

"I said, I thought you were invulnerable." She placed her hands
on her hips in what Clark had come to call her 'full battle mode'
and glared at him, daring him to call her on this one.

"That's what I thought you said."

Same chin.

Same nose.

Same ears.

Same mouth.

Same warm, softly pleading, deceptive eyes.

He began to speak but she didn't hear a word he said. She couldn't do anything except stare at his practiced expression. She could see nothing but deceit in his face. Hear nothing but lies in his low, sonorous voice. She wanted to shut him up, tell him that she knew and demand a reason for his lies, but she held her tongue.

"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.

Same chin.

Same nose.

Same ears.

Same mouth.

Same warm, softly pleading, deceptive eyes.

He began to speak but she didn't hear a word he said. She couldn't do anything except stare at his practiced expression. She could see nothing but deceit in his face. Hear nothing but lies in his low, sonorous voice. She wanted to shut him up, tell him that she knew and demand a reason for his lies, but she held her tongue.

As she entered the side door she could hear the soft murmur of voices in the kitchen.

"...Doesn't work like other people's." That was Clark. What didn't work like other people's? She froze just short of the kitchen door, listening.

"How do you feel?" Jonathan's voice was clearer than Clark's. "That's the important thing."

"Better." Clark's voice again. "I think I feel better."

Didn't he know? Lois shifted slightly. Concern for Clark warred with curiosity. He must have been taken ill very suddenly, for this
afternoon he had been the picture of health. Whatever had caused it somehow must be connected to the green glow she had seen in the shed.
Something very odd was going on here. Almost like a scene out of those grade Z science fiction movies on the late, late, late shows on
television.

A popping sound, and there was a faint scream, then Martha's voice exclaimed, "Oh, my...!"

What had happened? Lois strained her ears to hear. Something clinked, and Jonathan's voice said, "What do you mean, you 'think' you feel
better? Don't you know"

"He's never been sick before, Jonathan," Martha said. "It's a new experience!"

Lois frowned, trying to make sense of what she was hearing. Never been sick? Everybody got sick at some time or other!

More sounds, then Clark's voice again: "I've lifted a rocket into orbit before. Now I can't even lift this."

What was she hearing? Was Clark crazy? No one could lift a rocket into orbit except Superman! The thought hit her with such a shock that she
missed the next part of the conversation.

"You want me to swear on my badge? It won't mean any more, because when I give my word, it's binding. Simple as that."

"Okay." Clark pulled his glasses off and looked steadily at Henderson. "The reason I need the investigation stopped is because I have an identity to protect. The kidnappers weren't after Clark Kent, reporter at the Daily Planet, they were after Superman."

Henderson frowned. "Superman? So you were the bait?"

Why was it that when he wanted to tell someone, they never caught on, and when he didn't want to tell someone, they figured it out right away? "No, I was the target."

"But you just said Superman was the target."

Clark nodded. "Exactly."

"So you're trying to tell me that you're...?"

"Yes."

Henderson stared silently at Clark for so long, Clark began to wonder whether he was planning how to contact the nearest mental hospital and have him admitted without making him suspicious. He stared steadily back, trying to look as much like his alter-ego as possible and as little like a deranged lunatic as he could. "I always knew he had a secret identity," Henderson began slowly, seemingly still half-musing to himself.

Lois and Clark followed her out and saw her sit back down on the couch and watch the movie as she stuck handfulls of popcorn into her mouth.

Lois waved her hand aimlessly about for a couple seconds before she could speak. "You mean you know?"

Lucy turned and gave her sister the Lane raised eyebrow. "Of course I know, have since shortly after the wedding."

"How?" Clark had finally decided to join in the fun.

Lucy transferred her raised eyebrow to Clark. "Come on Clark, a pair of glasses and some hair gel? Really, what did you think, that I was galactically stupid?"

Even after it had struck her like a thunderbolt, standing there in Clark's apartment, what the superhero had been doing there - even after she'd somehow managed to drive herself home, without being aware of a particle of her surroundings - she'd still hoped that Superman would arrive to tell her she'd just been jumping to ridiculous conclusions. Or, better yet, that Superman would bring Clark, and they could laugh together over her overactive imagination and then pick up where that kiss had left off at the airport.

Instead Clark had arrived alone, looking grave and concerned, and making no attempt to pretend it wasn't true. And kissing was right off the agenda.

But she put her hand on his chest, stopping him. "Clark, take your glasses off, you can't cheat."

He tensed.

"Don't be afraid, Clark, I won't hurt you," she added, reaching up to take them off his face. "See, it wasn't that difficult. You could have done that sooner, it would have been a lot easier. I wouldn't have yelled at you. Naked truth sure is better."

"You *know?*"

She just smiled and kissed him. Her Clark... her own private Superman... And he was a lot better at that than at playing poker...

But why had Clark written her a letter, pretending it came from Superman?
To make her feel better that Superman hadn't said goodbye?

<Oh, stop being stupid, Lois!> she told herself angrily, no longer willing
to ignore the truth: the truth which had probably been staring her in the
face for some time. <The answer's obvious!> And that was why Clark had told
her that she would be able to figure it out; he had left her the clues in
the letters. He'd been confident that she would see what he hadn't been
able to tell her outright: that he was Superman.

"What? Clark, it's the middle of a work day. We can't just..." Her voice trailed off when Clark suddenly became a blur. When it finally stopped, Superman was standing in front of her, hand stretched out to her.

"What... How... Omigod!" Lois gasped as the implications of what she had just seen began to sink in.

"Lois!" Clark exclaimed, reaching out and catching her as her legs gave out from under her. He lowered her into a chair before kneeling in front of her.

Lois' hand came up to his face, tracing the lines as she struggled to see her partner in the superhero. "Why did you do that?" she asked after a moment. After all, Clark had obviously gone to a great deal of trouble to conceal his identity - or was it the other way around? Why was he revealing this to her now?

"So that makes you... a Kryptonian?"

"Yes," he answered, biting his lip. Would that bother her?
The other Lois had never expressed any revulsion for him
because of his heritage, but he was certainly learning that
each Lois so far had been a very different person.

"And you can fly?"

He relaxed a little. She'd moved over that topic pretty
easily and gone back to the evidence of his powers.
"Yeah," he admitted with a small smile. "By the time I was
seventeen or so, I knew I was a lot stronger and faster
than everyone else, and I was starting to be invulnerable.
I don't get sick or hurt. And when I was eighteen, I
learned to fly."

"Wow..." she said, dropping her gaze to the water again as
she thought it all over. He was an alien. He'd come to
Earth in a spaceship. He was faster and stronger than a
normal person. And he could fly!

"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.

"I'm sorry I was so hard on you before. It was so unexpected ... being
scooped up and carried away by an extra-terrestrial. You did say
you're from another planet, didn't you?"

"Yes, Krypton," Clark confirmed.

"Do you mind if I write this down?" asked Lois.

"No," said Clark. "In fact, I'm prepared to give you an exclusive
interview if ... " he looked keenly into her face. "How strong is
ethics in journalism around here? If I tell you something off the
record, will you keep it to yourself?"

"Of course," said Lois. "Tell me about it ... "

Half an hour later, her notebook filled, Lois leaned toward Clark,
who was sitting on the park bench next to her. "Let me get this
straight ...," she said, "... the part you *don't* want me to
publish ... " She took a breath. "... you're from a parallel
universe where we all exist in altered form?"

"Hard to believe?" asked Clark.

Lois thought for a minute. "Well ... I suppose ... if there's
a man who can bounce bullets and knives off his chest, and melt
things by looking at them, and fly ... I guess I can believe in
the parallel universe." Clark closed his eyes briefly, heaving
a sigh of relief. "But ... " Lois gazed intently into Clark's
face, "we don't have anyone like *you* in this universe."

"Um, Lois," said Clark hesitantly. "Yes, you do." Scanning the
area furtively to make sure no one was watching, he stood up and
spun rapidly into Clark Kent. "You see?" he said softly, looking
down into Lois's astonished face.

Her expression changed, and she bounced to her feet. "You ...
you ... why, you, Clark Kent!" she spat. "You've been hiding this
all this time ... !"

"No! No, Lois! It's true that I'm Clark Kent, but I'm not the
one you know; I'm different, I ... "

But Lois wasn't paying any attention to him. "I *knew* there was
something strange about you; I just *knew* it!" She was on her
feet now, too, pacing rapidly back and forth. "And now I have
you!" she crowed. "Clark Kent, you are dead! You'll never bother
me again!"

"No, Lois, I've never bothered you; I'm not the Clark Kent you know.
Come on, just listen to me ... "

"I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!"

It was strange to see him without his glasses, she thought
as they flew upward. Strange, yet...he looked oddly
familiar in a way. It was probably just her imagination,
she thought as she tried to enjoy the surrounding scenery.
She tried to look past Clark, but as they started falling
again, she found her eyes drawn toward his face. The wind
buffeted his hair, plastering it down on his head. Yes, he
did look familiar indeed. Flying through the air like this,
he sure looked a lot like....

Lois's eyes went wide as she made the connection. She was
aware of a gasp escaping her lips, and it drew the
attention of her partner, who suddenly became aware of her
eyes on him. Clark gave her a smile, and as they hit the
bottom of their fall once again, he looked toward the hand
that held his glasses. As he turned back toward Lois, he
winked, and Lois felt her heart rate increase. He knew that
she knew! And he didn't seem mad at all. In fact, he almost
appeared amused. Maybe that was why he had agreed so easily
to this excursion - maybe he wanted her to know.

"I hate magicians. I hate people who play tricks. People who try to fool you. And, you know..." she laughed a little, mockery bright in the air between them, "I never saw this one coming either. I go to sleep snuggled up to my partner, Clark Kent, and in the morning he's Superman. Hey, look..." her voice dropped to a bitter whisper, "...no mirrors."

Clark paled. Though he'd been expecting it, sensing it coming like a thunderhead rolling across a sweltering African plain, static of the truth filling the room in advance of the storm, it still hit him like a shock of electric charge.

He sank back to the bed. "I knew I shouldn't have taken off my glasses," he said bleakly.

Lois tilted her head and studied him for a minute. She squeezed his hands, and shook her head, obviously confused. "I don't understand, Clark. Are you telling me that you're...some kind of science experiment?"

"I'm not a NASA experiment, Lois. I'm Kryptonian."

Lucy shrugged. "Just that I'm confident that you and Clark will find a
way around this."

"What!" Lois pulled her hand out of Lucy's and sprang up from the
couch. Her voice rose to a near hysterical level. "Haven't you been
listening? Clark was shot down, at point blank range, in front of a
room full of people." Her arms began to wave about animatedly. "Capone
and his goons dragged Clark away with them. The police haven't even
recovered his body yet."

Lucy nodded. "Well, that's an advantage."

"What?"

Lucy held her hands up in front of her in an effort to calm her
agitated sibling. "Look, I know that it seems to the rest of the world
that Clark Kent was shot down in that club tonight." Lucy shrugged
again. "But it's not as if he's actually dead."

Lois began to pace while tearing at her hair. "Lucy, what are you
smoking? Clark Kent, my partner, my best friend and the most wonderful
man I've ever known is dead. He was gunned down right before my eyes!"

"I know what you told me, Lois. But it's not like a bullet can actually
hurt Clark. After all, he is Superman."

Lois' mouth opened but no words came out. Lucy had to stifle a giggle,
it looked so funny. Then the realization struck her. "Omigod," she
said. "You didn't know?"

"Yeah, right. What makes you different?" she asked while
she placed mugs, sugar and milk on the counter.

"Well for starters, I'm Kryptonian." He let out a breath of
relief. He'd done it. He'd told Lois the truth.

"Give me a break, Kent. You're from Smallville, Kansas. You
wouldn't know Superman if he stared you in the face."

His breath caught in his throat. He'd finally worked up the
nerve to tell another human being and she didn't believe
him. "No, Lois," he began deliberately, "you wouldn't." And
in one smooth motion, he lifted one hand to run his fingers
through his hair pulling it off his face, while he used his
other hand to remove his glasses. At the same time, he
stood taller, his shoulders back.

Lois froze, staring at the transformation that was
occurring in front of her, trying to comprehend the meaning
of what she was seeing. Clark, the man she was having
sexual fantasies about, who kissed with a passion that she
had always wanted to experience, was really Superman.

This realization hit Lois hot and cold at the same time. Hot, because it meant that Clark couldn't be dead. He was lying beside her, had always protected her as Superman and must have been planning to tell her when she awoke - she
would probably be the only person ever to be told of his double-life. Cold, because she realized that Clark as Superman must have heard her confessing her love. She thought back to the time she had rejected Clark's love and then, when Superman stood before her shortly after that,
she told him she would love him if he were only an ordinary man. Oh, god! What must he have thought about her! How embarrassing! And how many things made sense all of a sudden! No wonder Superman wasn't there to protect Metropolis from the Nightfall-Asteroid if Clark had lost his memory. No wonder Clark had wanted to leave Metropolis with Superman at the time of the great heat.

And that's when she figured it out: the secret. She wasn't quite
sure how she could have been so blind, so oblivious, but her conversations
with Amanda triggered something. Lee had traveled all over the world. Lee
was fluent in all sorts of languages. Lee came and went inexplicably. It
was a pattern Lois knew all too well. Clark disappeared at the drop of a
hat. Clark could order dinner in 347 languages. Clark had traveled
extensively... England, France, China and who goes to work for the Borneo
Gazette as training to be a serious journalist? These were all clues she,
Lois Lane, had missed. It was all an elaborate cover. She didn't know who
exactly he worked for, whether the CIA or the FBI or the... the... the RTD,
DMV, MTV... whatever those silly government alphabet initials were these
days, Clark was a spy!

"Thanks," he gasped out. "I'm feeling better, just weak." He took
the canteen and poured a little out into his palm, rubbing his neck,
letting the liquid flow down his back.
Lois dumped out the contents of her pack onto the ground, searching
for anything else that might help. "You were fine before we went in there,
I just don't understand. What is it you need?"
Clark sighed loudly. "Lois, I'll be fine in a few minutes. I just
can't go back in, not with the Kryptonite in there." He'd taken off his
glasses to rub the water over his forehead and over his eyes.
"That doesn't make any sense, Clark. There's only one person that
stuff affects and..." Lois stopped dead as she turned towards him, staring
at his naked face, hair slicked back from the moisture. Her mouth dropped
open and her knees seemed to buckle right out from under her.

"You have to understand that I only wanted you to love me," he whispered brokenly. "That was all I wanted. I didn't want to deceive you, or confuse you, or anything like that. You have to understand that I was *never*... laughing up my sleeve or anything."

She shook her head slightly. "Clark, I don't understand," she murmured confusedly.

He took a long look at her, drinking her memory in to sustain him for the lonely days that would undoubtedly be ahead.

He took a giant step back, his heart in his mouth, and spun into Superman.

"Superman, can you sign my cast?"

Superman did.

Lois watched him for the next half hour, and then he left, striding out a private door, accompanied by Dr. Adair. She heard him say to the doctor that she should give Clark Kent a call at the Daily Planet when Jason was ready to go home. Then, just as he was about to leave the solarium, he turned one more time and glanced at the group of reporters. His eyes met hers, dark brown eyes, eyes that were Clark Kent's, and he smiled very slightly at her, and nodded his head, and... he winked.

Lois stood there for a moment, very still. Okay, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

What now?

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."

Lois looked stunned, with tears of hurt and betrayal beginning to shimmer in her eyes.

Clark hurried on, hoping to get as much explanation in as he could before she exploded. "I should have told you -- I should have let you know, but I didn't think -- I was pretty stuck in self-pity at first, actually."

"You let me think--" Her voice was thin and ragged, and she cleared her throat before continuing. "I cried myself to sleep over you, Clark, and you didn't think I cared?"

"I knew you cared, Lois," he protested miserably. "I just didn't know how much. I know I should have told you. I'm sorry."

There was a brief silence. Lois was fighting tears, and Clark ached to hold her in his arms, but didn't quite dare.

"I just wanted you to know," he finally said. "I really appreciate what you did today, but I couldn't go through with the announcement tomorrow without you knowing this. I've been wanting to tell you about Superman for a while now ... I guess that doesn't matter."

Still she was silent, which scared him. He'd expected an eruption of temper; if he lived through the blast there would be hope for
a later reconciliation. He didn't know what to make of this self-containment. "Uh, Lois?"

"I'm thinking," she said distantly. "So, what happens to Superman, if Clark moves to Paris?"

Lois found Clark his spare pair of glasses. She didn't know how he had
ended up with the pair he had on, but they didn't suit him as well as his
regular pair.

"You keep a second pair," she said as she handed him his own glasses.

He reached up, removed the dirty glasses he was wearing, and then looked at
her, puzzled and confused.

"Lois, I don't understand why I wear glasses. I can see perfectly fine
without them."

"I don't know, Clark. Maybe you have astigmatism or someth..." Lois
stopped in shock and stared at his face.

"What?" Clark was alarmed by the expression on her face. "What's wrong?"

Lois couldn't believe it. But the evidence was right in front of her. She
thought fast and furiously. "Nothing's wrong, Clark," she managed to say
calmly. "But I think you should put your glasses on."

He shrugged and complied with her wishes.

She couldn't believe it. What was she going to do? A wave of anger rose
in her, hot, and fiery, but she forced it back down. Now was not the time
to throw a tantrum. The world needed Superman, and by God, she was going
to deliver Superman to the world if it was the last thing she did! And it
might be the last thing she attempted, she reflected wryly. The asteroid
was still coming, and if the nuclear missiles missed, well, ... game over!

"I never met my father. He died before I was born. I
do feel I know him. My mom has kept him alive through
pictures and articles and long discussions at night.
My grandparents still buy him a birthday present and
a place is always set for him at the table on
holidays. My daddy will always be part of our lives.
Even if his body is never with us, his spirit will
live on."

Lois' gaze was glued to the man at the table. His
reaction was so strong; He was mesmerized by Clark's
words; His right hand was clutching his leg, the tick
in his jaw.

The what?! Lois unconsciously moved a step closer to
the edge of the stage. Her eyes wondered over the
face of the man sitting next to her surrogate
parents. Suddenly she gasped. Aware Clark was still
speaking, she covered her mouth and tried to force
herself to concentrate on his speech.

He took a deep breath. "Under the circumstances... that you'd already turned me down as an `ordinary man', Lois."

It was only as he said the words that it occurred to Clark that he really should have rehearsed this speech. Or at the very least spent some time preparing to deal with her reaction. This was Lois, after all. She was every bit as likely to fly off the handle and rage at him as she was to
storm off in disgust. Or throw things at him. Or play it cool but spend time thinking up an appropriate form of revenge.

She did none of those things.

Instead, she went pale. Her jaw slackened. She actually took a step backwards. And, although she opened her mouth after a few moments, no words emerged.

"Lois!" Worried, he caught at her arm. "Are you okay?"

A scrap of cloth was caught...

Caught in the wood of the closet back?

How could that be?

She lifted her head, tracking the smooth, unbroken lines of the square of wood that formed the back of the piece, then put a hand to the joints and ran it slowly over them.

She found nothing she didn't expect to - just an ordinary, everyday, wooden-backed closet.

Only...only it wasn't, was it?

She looked again at the incriminating scrap of cloth.

Scarlet cloth.

Her heart stopped. She was sure of it. Her breath froze in her throat. Time stilled.

And all of her carefully ordered thoughts of moments before flew out of her head.

Very familiar cloth.

Trembling, all at once, she reached out a shaking hand and put the tips of her fingers to the scrap. Almost half certain that it would fade and dissolve before her eyes before she could touch it. But no, there it was. Real. And solid under her fingers. Silk. In a very familiar shade of red.

She took back her hand and released the breath she'd been holding in a soft, sudden rush.

As Lois tried to distract herself from thoughts of Clark and Superman, she nevertheless found herself looking impatiently toward the door. She was rewarded at last with the sight of Clark crossing the threshold. "It's about time, Kent," she grumbled under her breath--and then gasped when Clark suddenly bent over double, his face twisted in pain. She sprang to her feet, heedless of the impatient glares she received from members of the audience turning their heads in an attempt to see around her.

Lois fixed her eyes on Clark, who was grasping the wall for support, his fingers scrabbling at the door in a frantic attempt to open it again so he could escape to ... to where? To the men's room? What's the matter with Clark? Is it food poisoning? Appendicitis? The flu?

At least this settles the question of whether he's Superman. Now I know he's *not*, because Superman doesn't get sick. Nothing can hurt Superman!

... except ...

... what ...

That meteorite that Trask said would kill Superman ... What was it called ...? Kryptonite. A crystal. When I interviewed Bureau 39 employees they said it was a ...

... green ...

... a ...

... Lex's assistant, and Clark doesn't trust Luthor ...

Clark ...! NO!!!!

A sob rose in her throat. The ceremony had started and members of the audience didn't seem to notice Lois pushing her way to the back of the throng. She reached Clark in time to prop him up while she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, supporting him as they stumbled out of the room together. Glancing behind her, she saw that this little charade had drawn the attention of Mrs. Cox, whose interested gaze had followed Lois's progress to the door.

We have to be careful, Clark ...

"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.

"Superman, I'll
always care for you, but... Clark... he's... Clark."

She took a deep breath. "Well, he doesn't love me, and I can't
go on working next to him, just being 'friends'." She spat out
the word. Then she shrugged her shoulders and struggled to
smile. "Washington's a whole new ball game..."

Everything, she'd just given him everything. "Lois," his voice
was rough, strangled, as he walked toward her.

Then the TV caught both their attentions with a news bulletin -
a small ship caught in an icy death grip by a turbulent
Atlantic too rough for rescue ships to navigate. They both
turned and listened in silence.

"Go," she said.

He nodded silently, then grabbed her, his hands on her
shoulders pulling her against him, and he kissed her hard, a
kiss that transcended worlds and seared their souls, leaving
them both breathless. "I'll be back, Lois Lane. Don't you go
anywhere. And you're wrong. I do love you. I've been in love
with you since that first morning when I interviewed at the
Planet, and you stormed into Perry's office."

With those words, he leapt deftly out her window and darted
upwards, grinning as he heard her say, "What?... Hey, wait a
minute." Veering east, he streaked toward the Atlantic.

There'd be hell to pay tomorrow, once he got back. He'd never
looked forward to anything more in his life.

That would make him Clark's brother. Of course! It finally explained their close relationship, and why Martha had been so flabbergasted when Lois had suggested they were a gay couple. And why she had talked about supporting one's children's decisions.

Lois sipped her coffee thoughtfully. It even explained why Clark and Superman looked alike. Then she winced - that had to be the stupidest thought she'd ever had. Superman was an alien from Krypton, and Clark... Clark really did look
remarkably like Superman, except for his glasses and his hairstyle.

No, it was ludicrous! She'd seen Clark get a paper cut, and he'd exerted all his strength to win her a teddy bear at the Smallville Corn Festival. She still had that teddy. She'd named him Jerome. Lois stood up and walked through to
her bedroom, picking up the little bear from the shelf beside her bed and staring at him.

They had gone to Smallville to investigate a case of bureaucratic bungling, and they had come back with a story about Jason Trask and a mythical mineral called kryptonite. Only, Superman had said it wasn't mythical, it was real. It had made him "weak and ill."

The first evening in Smallville, Lois had come downstairs to find Clark's parents hovering around him, and Clark himself looking as sick as a dog. He had said it was allergies, but he had never suffered from allergies before or since. He hadn't even had a cold all winter.

Lois sank onto the bed, still staring unseeingly at Jerome. Her mind was whirling.

Nobody in Smallville, not Sheriff Rachel "tush-push" Harris, not even that nosy waitress at the cafeteria - what was her name? - who had known all about Lois's romance novel, had ever mentioned Clark having a brother. Lois herself had slept in Clark's old bedroom, a tiny room with just enough space for a single bed. The farmhouse had no third bedroom.

Clark's clothes fitted Superman perfectly. Clark had been unaffected by the pheromone compound. Clark had been unaffected by the heatwave in November. Clark had left the Daily Planet the night before Superman had to leave Metropolis. Clark was always disappearing at a moment's
notice, generally just before Lois needed him to help her on a big story... involving Superman.

Clark Kent, her highly esteemed partner, the only person she trusted enough to get this close to - this *attached* to, damn him - had been laughing up his sleeve at her, ever since he first met her.

She backed out of the closet and was still holding onto the suit when she
tripped over a fold in the carpet and found herself sitting on the floor.
It was a testament to how shocked Lois was that the fall didn't even rate a
response from her. She just stared at the super suit which she held in her
hands.

It took a few moments for her brain to engage and finally try to piece
together the momentous piece of information she had just uncovered. As she
saw it there were only two options, the first being that Clark was holding
Superman's suits for him. Maybe he laundered them or something. That was
the most logical answer and if Clark were standing here next to her to tell
her that, she'd most likely believe it. But Clark wasn't here, he was
missing, and Lois had heard a strange message from his mother on the
answering machine about helping out during disasters. Could it be true?
Could her farm boy partner really be Superman?

All the lame excuses Clark would use to leave at the most inopportune times
came flooding back to Lois. Very often after Clark left, Superman would
show up somewhere to stop a robber, or put out a big fire. Then Clark
would come back saying he ran into Superman and he'd have the story just
as nice as you please. Lois' anger flared forth. That rat, she thought.
No wonder he always seemed to get so many inside scoops on Superman's
activities. It's easy to get a Superman story if you are Superman. If,
you, are, Superman?

"Oh god, no," Lois whispered into the S shield of the suit. If Clark
*were* Superman, that meant that he wasn't actually missing. Instead, he
was lying on a padded table at Star Labs, hooked up to several machines
whose only purpose was to find out if he were still alive! Tears began to
flood down Lois' cheeks once again as she clutched the super suit to her
chest like it was some sort of life line.

So wrapped up in her latest bout of grief and fear for the man she thought
she loved, she almost didn't hear the activity outside the apartment's
front door. Still holding the suit tight to her, she turned her gaze
toward the door.

Martha and Jonathan had approached the front door of Clark's apartment and
upon seeing the lights on both gave a huge sigh of relief. It appeared
that their concern that they hadn't heard from their boy was going to be
groundless, but once they got close to the door they could hear someone
inside. Someone who seemed to be throwing things around. Then they heard
a loud thump, like something falling to the floor. This was followed soon
after by the sounds of weeping. Martha gave Jonathan a look and a shrug as
she reached for the door handle.

Neither Jonathan nor Martha were sure what to expect when they opened the
door, but they did know that the sight that greeted them would not have
been it.

Sitting on the floor in front of Clark's closet was Lois. Tears were
streaming down her face and she was holding tightly to one of Clark's super
suits. Lois looked up at them and in a voice on the edge of hysteria asked.

"Is it true?" She held the suit out toward them so they could be sure to
see what it was. "Is it *true*?"

Tears formed in her eyes as Lois heard the pain and torment in his voice. She walked around the table to him and gently rubbed his back. Her touch broke the walls he was trying so
valiantly to rebuild.

"Oh, God, Lois. I miss them so much," he hissed, anguish in his voice. "Every day. Every second. I never know if what I'm doing is right, and I don't have anyone to ask. I'm so alone."

"No, you're not. You're not alone." Lois cocked her head and looked into his eyes, her hand resting on his shoulder. He sighed as he looked at her, and pulled away completely.

"How long have you known?"

Shaking her head, she sat back down in a chair next to him. "I didn't know. Not for sure. There were just too many things that didn't add up. Except one way. When you've proved all of the possibilities are wrong, the impossible must be true."

Clark nodded, silent. He felt washed out inside. She knew now. She knew he was the Guardian - the freak who flew. Wasn't that what the Metropolis Star called him on a regular basis? She would want nothing further to do with him. Who would want anything to do with him? His life was a
mess; *he* was a mess. There was nothing to offer to anyone.

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!"

"What *thing*, Clark!" Lois began to tremble. "This has to
do with Superman? Why I'm pregnant? What!?"

Clark looked up at the ceiling, his expression almost
prayer-like as he searched the air itself for the right
words. He took a deep breath and brought his gaze down
level with hers. "It has to do with why Superman can *not*
be the father of that baby, Lois. But," he said, regret
softening his tone. "I almost wish it were true. You have
no idea how much." He removed his glasses. "Because ...
*I'm* Superman."

"You aren't human!" Her voice was accusing.

"Neither are you...neither is my son." Clark's voice was mild,
holding a small trace of amusement.

Sarah's face snapped around to stare at Calvin. "*You should have told me.*"

"*It wasn't my secret to tell.*"

"*How could you bring me to the house of someone like this?*"

It took Calvin a moment to realize that she thought Clark was a New
Kryptonian deserter.

His father sighed. "*You still don't understand.*"

Both Calvin and Sarah stared at Calvin's father, and they both
blushed when they realized that their conversation hadn't been
private. Calvin had never realized that his father was so
telepathically skilled.

Clark Kent stood and clapped his hands. Calvin sighed. He'd always
been embarrassed that his parents actually owned an antique clapper.

The window curtains all began to close. When the room was completely
closed off, Clark Kent began to spin in place.

At least he had chosen to wear the suit under his clothes this time.
Calvin had been occasionally embarrassed by his ability to see what
his father was doing at superspeed. For Sarah's sake, he was
grateful. It was hard enough to see that Superman had a human life;
she wasn't ready yet to see him in his underwear. That would have to
wait until at least the third date.

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?"

"What kind of different are you?"

She saw him take a deep breath before opening his mouth to answer
her. Then he looked as if he heard something she couldn't hear.
And then he was *gone*! One second he was toying with her fingers
and then he just simply wasn't in the seat beside her. Seconds
later Lois heard and felt the compression of an explosion. And
then he was there in the seat beside her, readjusting his tie and
his glasses.

Lois blinked. What on earth! Had he really disappeared, or was
this a new side-effect from her head injury? Before she could ask
him, the captain's voice came over the public address system
asking everyone to remain calm. There had been a minor accident
with some oxygen tanks in the cargo hold which had been averted by
the quick intervention of Superman. There would be no need to
return to London after this mishap, they would continue on to
Metropolis because they were in Superman's capable hands.

Before Lois could even raise herself up to see where this
phenomenon was located, the people sitting across the aisle
reached over and shook Clark Kent's hand, thanking him profusely.
There was general applause around the plane.

Lois' brain clicked and whirred as she put the pieces
together--the awe of the people they had met, the *not* flying by
commercial airline, his sudden disappearing act. She finally
understood.

"Oh, *that* kind of different."

He looked at her, uneasily. "Does it bother you?"

Lois shook her head, "I guess I wasn't too bright. I should have
seen the resemblance. I just wasn't expecting a mild-mannered guy
like you, wearing glasses, to be *Superman*!"

"That's what the other Lois said."

I love this story. It's In Dreams by Kaylle.

Was Clark the 'Guardian Angel'? She had to
know. Reaching out cautiously, she put her hand on the
doorknob, but again drew it back. For some reason, she felt she
should knock first. She knocked quickly, the loud sound echoing
off the hallway walls. "Clark?" She could still hear his
breathing.

"Clark? Wake up. We need to talk." She knocked on the door
again, longer and harder than last time. Still no change in his
breathing. "CLARK! Wake up!" She reached down and turned the
knob and shoved the door open.

"Clark Kent, I want to--to--" Lois stood motionless. She
couldn't believe what she was seeing. There, a good three feet
above the bed, floated a sleeping Clark Kent. He was bare from
the waist up, and he was wearing dark colored pants of some
kind. He had mud smudges on his face and a thin layer of grime
over his chest and arms. He was sound asleep, rising and
falling with each breath.

Methodically, he packed up her books, beginning with the lowest shelf and filling two boxes before he got to the top shelf. He was able to reach a shelf higher than she could, but there was another one above that. She saw him look around the room, and wished she could tell him where she stored her step-stool. It wasn't in sight, however, so he shrugged. And then noiselessly rose into the air, his feet dangling a foot above the floor as he calmly gathered an armful of books.

Lois felt her mouth drop open. Was it possible this was all just a bizarre dream? Everything and everyone else was behaving normally. Even her imagination wasn't lurid enough to create a floating man, was it?

Meanwhile, Clark had cleared out the top shelf and filled the third box. His feet were once again on the floor, and she doubted her own memories. Except that the top shelf was empty. And, come to think of it, those boxes would be heavy, yet he was carrying them with ease. Not to mention his amazingly fast arrival at her apartment, when he'd been in Perry's office scant moments before. This definitely called for further observation.

"The E-Z Cut home hair cutting kit?" She looked up at Clark. "I don't understand."

Clark pasted an apologetic look on his face. "Well, it wasn't the way I planned for this to go, but given what you said this afternoon outside the Planet, and knowing what a person of your word you are... "

Many emotions played across Lois' face as she tried to place the conversation Clark was referring to. Slowly her look turned from confused, to disbelief, to wariness.

"What is this all about, Clark?" Her tone was guarded, almost as if she was afraid of what he might say.

Clark stood up and backed away from the table. "Perhaps it'd be best if I just show you."

Suddenly Clark began to spin. He immediately became a blur that quickly changed colors from the green and tan of his shirt and pants to a bright blue and red. A few moments later he stopped and the person standing in Lois' kitchen wasn't Clark anymore, it was..."

"Superman!" Lois put her hand to her mouth.

Lois set out on the short walk back to the hospital, still trying to
figure out why Clark was behaving so strangely. What had happened?
Had she said something to him to make him uncomfortable? She
couldn't think of anything. She heard an odd noise overhead and
looked up. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. It was a man
carrying another man, flying through the air. The man landed with
his passenger in a darkened corner, not far from the hospital. She
ran toward them, in utter disbelief. The man emerged from the
shadows, this time walking, still carrying the other man. As she got
closer, she could tell the second man was injured badly.

Without thinking, she crossed the distance between them. She called out "I'm
a doctor!" The mysterious flying man froze. She looked up at his
face for the first time and gasped.

"You...you're...you're the...the...." She tried to form a coherent
sentence and failed.

He stared back at her, his expression a mixture of confusion and
panic, but mostly shock.

Lois lifted her head; she hadn't meant him to hear that. Irritation writ
large across her face, she said, "'Damn him.' I said, 'Damn him.'"

"Who? And, why?"

"Superman. Look at all this stuff!" She threw her arms out in an all
encompassing gesture. "I don't know where to begin, and he didn't
tell me..." She trailed off, and returned to burrowing through the filing
cabinets.

"Smallville, Kansas, May 17, 1966," said Clark quietly.

"Perry," Clark said, having made a decision. "I'm taking you to the hospital. There's something wrong, and I want to get you checked out."

"Good decision, Kent," James piped up supportively. "Should I call an ambulance?"

"No, I'll take him. It'll be faster."

"Now hold on here!" Perry exclaimed. "I'm not going to any hospital. I'm fine."

"Yes, you are, and no, you're not," James told him firmly as he crossed the office and opened his window.

"No way am I going! Who's going to make me?"

"He is," James said, pointing at Clark as he spun in place in a blur of colours.

Perry gaped at Superman, resplendent in red, blue and yellow. "Never mind. The hospital sounds like a fine idea," he muttered before his eyes rolled back into his head.

"Why have you got Superman's bandage on your shoulder?" Lois
studied the face in front of her...she reached up and pulled his glasses
off his face. Those eyes...slowly she pushed the hair back from his
forehead, while he continued to stare anxiously at her with those wide
brown eyes of his...of-

"Superman's. You're Superman." She snatched her hand away from
his hair.

"I'm sorry, Lois. It wasn't meant to happen like this." He was
supposed to tell her when the moment was right, when he had it all figured
out and could explain it so that she would understand everything. Not this
way, not by accident.

"Why were you pretending to be Clark? Where is he?"

For a split second, Clark considered taking advantage of her
confusion, of perpetuating the deception, but just as quickly he knew that
he didn't have a plausible answer for her question, and anyway, he was
tired of lying to Lois.

"I wasn't pretending to be Clark. I *am* Clark; I'm just Superman
as well."

Clark was starting to get angry with himself. He had been so stupid! The whole day, he had endured being half blinded by that blot on his glasses, just because he thought Lois would recognize him at the first glimpse she had of him
without his glasses. He'd felt so embarrassed just now. He was wondering how he could have been such an idiot. The only thing that cheered him up was that at least his glasses were clean. What a fool he was.

At the other end of the room, Lois returned to her desk with a big grin on her face. This had been a perfect day for her. Seeing Clark fighting all day against his glasses, trying to find a place where he could be alone to take them
off. And she had made sure he would never succeed. Oh yeah, she was having far too much fun with this. If only Clark knew. If only he knew that she had found out about his secret identity almost one week ago...

But she wasn't about to tell him. She was having so much pleasure hearing his poor excuses and hearing him talk about himself in the third person. And that thing about his glasses. That was the funniest of all. She wanted to wait
till he was ready to tell her, and only then would she tell him she'd been laughing at him all this time. This was really getting exciting.

"Oh no you don't, big boy. You have a deserter here, Lois."

Bully! Picking up a cat by his stomach. Not even a hello
scratch. Harumph!

"Thanks, Clark. Ever since he got out and met Mrs. Comarch's
yellow tabby, he's wanted nothing more than to see her again."

Hello! Put me down!

"Careful, Clark, he doesn't like being picked up by the belly,
he might... Clark, are you all right! Bad Elroy! Bad!"

Yeeouch! He's tougher than he looks! I almost lost a claw on
that one. Come to think of it, he smells different. What does
he smell of? Oh no! He smells like that big blue bird that
keeps landing in here. Why can't Mom have some nice *normal*
smelling friends?

"Clark," called one of the women in the crowd,
"What we really want to know is whether Lois is as close to Superman
as gossip says."

Dr. Klein nodded his head and smiled. "The truth serum *is* working on
others in the crowd, Lois; she'd never have asked a question like that
under normal circumstances." He looked pleased, but for some reason
Mom didn't.

"Is Lois close to Superman?" repeated Daddy. I couldn't be sure, but I
thought Mom was holding her breath. "Yes." Mom let out her breath in
a sigh.

"We really should stop him before he says any more," said Dr. Klein,
beginning to look worried.

"No kidding," said Mom.

"Very close." Dad smiled happily while people in the crowd looked at
each other.

"You don't have to say any more, Clark," said Mom.

Dad was laughing now, like he had just thought of a good joke. "But
it's okay."

"No, Clark," said Mom.

"... it's okay that she's close to Superman ..."

"Clar-rk ..."

"... because, you see, I *am* Superman."

A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd. "Sure you are, Kent!" yelled
one man.

Ralph called out, "Is that what Lois tells you when you're--" and he said
something that I didn't understand *at all*, and when I asked Mom what
he meant, she didn't answer; she just looked at me.

David dropped his book and came over to the door, looking out with a
puzzled frown. "Why is Dad telling everyone?" he whispered.

Dr. Klein seemed pleased, but Weird Chemist was standing there with a
disappointed look on his face. "It's not working," he said. "It's
supposed to make people tell the *truth*."

I looked down at the audience again. "Clark, I'm glad you're Superman
to your wife, but could you just get on with your speech?" yelled
someone.

"But I *am* Superman," said Dad stubbornly. Everyone laughed, and he
frowned. "Look, I'll prove it." Stepping to one side of the lectern,
he loosened his tie, then grabbed his shirt in both hands and pulled.
There was a ripping sound and buttons flew everywhere. Someone screamed
and a lot of other people laughed.

"Nice, Kent, but where's Superman?" jeered Ralph.

Daddy looked down at his bare chest, then raised his head with a puzzled
look. "I'm not wearing the suit," he said. "Why not?" He looked up at
us. "Honey, do you know why I'm not wearing the suit?"