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Dearest Lois,

I have seen a thousand sunsets and sunrises, on land where it
floods forest and mountains with honey coloured light, at sea
where it rises and sets like a blood orange in a multicoloured
nest of cloud, slipping in and out of the vast ocean. I have seen
a thousand moons: harvest moons like gold coins, winter moons as
white as ice chips, new moons like baby swans' feathers.

I have seen seas as smooth as if painted, coloured like shot silk
or blue as a kingfisher or transparent as glass or black and
crumpled with foam, moving ponderously and murderously.

I have felt winds straight from the South Pole, bleak and wailing
like a lost child; winds as tender and warm as a lover's breath;
winds that carried the astringent smell of salt and the death of
seaweeds; winds that carried the moist rich smell of a forest
floor, the smell of a million flowers. Fierce winds that churned
and moved the sea like yeast, or winds that made the waters lap at
the shore like a kitten.

I have known silence: the cold, earthy silence at the bottom of a
newly dug well; the implacable stony silence of a deep cave; the
hot, drugged midday silence when everything is hypnotized and
stilled into silence by the eye of the sun; the silence when great
music ends.

I have heard summer cicadas cry so that the sound seems stitched
into your bones. I have heard tree frogs in an orchestration as
complicated as Bach singing in a forest lit by a million emerald
fireflies. I have heard the Keas calling over grey glaciers that
groaned to themselves like old people as they inched their way to
the sea. I have heard the hoarse street vendor cries of the mating
Fur seals as they sang to their sleek golden wives, the crisp
staccato admonishment of the Rattlesnake, the cobweb squeak of the
Bat and the belling roar of the Red deer knee-deep in purple
heather. I have heard Wolves baying at a winter's moon, Red
Howlers making the forest vibrate with their roaring cries. I have
heard the squeak, purr and grunt of a hundred multi-coloured reef
fishes.

I have seen hummingbirds flashing like opals round a tree of
scarlet blooms, humming like a top. I have seen flying fish,
skittering like quicksilver across the blue waves, drawing silver
lines on the surface with their tails. I have seen Spoonbills
flying home to roost like a scarlet banner across the sky. I have
seen Whales, black as tar, cushioned on a cornflower blue sea,
creating a Versailles of fountain with their breath. I have
watched butterflies emerge and sit, trembling, while the sun irons
their wings smooth. I have watched Tigers, like flames, mating in
the long grass. I have been dive-bombed by an angry Raven, black
and glossy as the Devil's hoof. I have lain in water warm as milk,
soft as silk, while around me played a host of Dolphins. I have
met a thousand animals and seen a thousand wonderful things... but
-

All this I did without you. This was my loss.

All this I want to do with you. This will be my gain.

All this I would gladly have forgone for the sake of one minute of
your company, for your laugh, your voice, your eyes, hair, lips,
body, and above all for your sweet, ever surprising mind which is
an enchanting quarry in which it is my privilege to delve.

Love, Clark

"So what happened on your 'date',honey?" Martha asked Clark eagerly as she poured him a cup of coffee.

Clark smiled. "Well, I showed up right on time -eight o'clock on the dot. I took her a huge, out of control bouquet of flowers that I had picked myself. They were pretty, I'll admit, but there were a heck of a lot of them. I apologized for them, saying that I wished I actually had an income so I could have paid for nicer ones. Of course, Lois made light of that. She told me she loved them. I don't think she appreciated getting pricked by the thorns as she cut them to size to fit in a vase, but, other than a few, very muffled curses, she didn't say." Clark helped himself to a muffin, and Jonathan passed him the butter.

"And then what?"

"And then we talked - or at least she talked and I listened. She was so nervous it was pretty painful to listen to her with a straight face, but I managed it. She talked about a few books that she'd read - of course, Superman doesn't get much free time to read so I couldn't discuss them with her - and she talked about a show that had been on TV - and of course, Superman doesn't own a TV so those conversations kind of fizzled
out pretty quickly. She told me a few jokes. Unfortunately, most of them involved people being placed in situations that were slightly ridiculous. She didn't like it when I analysed each joke to show why we really shouldn't laugh at other people's misfortunes."

Martha giggled as she passed Clark the bowl of scrambled eggs. He helped himself to a heaping spoonful as he continued.

"I asked her about her day, nodded politely and acted like I had no clue what she was talking about. Then she asked me about mine and I recited a list of major and minor assorted good deeds from all over the world. By the time I got to the twentieth rescue of cats from trees - in glowing detail, I might add - her eyes were glazing over, and she was struggling not to yawn."

Jonathan laughed. "So was that it for your date?"

"Oh, no," Clark answered. "I asked her if she'd like to go for a walk. She jumped for her jacket pretty quickly. I think she'd have done anything to escape our conversation."

Martha chuckled. "I recognise that glint in your eye. What did you do to the poor girl?"

The sonic boom overhead was hardly unexpected, despite Smallville's being hundreds of miles from the nearest airport or military base.

Bob Jenkins glanced up at the sky, then said, "It looks like Clark is visiting the Kents again."

"Do they really think they're fooling anyone?" Bob's best friend, Joe Peterson, set his post hole digger into the ground and leaned against it. "What with government men looking for spaceships the year that Clark was born, that nutcase Trask kidnapping the Kents for Kryptonite, and that whole Nor thing?"

Yawning, Clark filled his coffee-machine. It was going to
be another long day, right on top of last night's stakeout,
and Lois was due over at his place shortly to drop off
their completed story so that he could look it over before
they took it in to Perry. This was one they *didn't* want
anywhere around the newsroom before Perry had it safely
sent for printing. Knowing Lois, she would expect him to
read the story on the spot - well, he could, of course, but
she didn't know that! - and she would stay until he'd
okayed it. Hence the coffee, made precisely to Lois's
exacting specifications.

Not that he would ever object to Lois's company, of course.
If only they were able to find some time together when they
weren't on assignment! He had finally managed to work up
the courage to ask her for a date, and she had actually
said yes - but that had been well over a week ago now. What
should have been their first date had been cancelled when
an assignment had come up, and since then there had been no
opportunity to reschedule.

He half-suspected that Lois was secretly relieved at that
fact, and if he was honest with himself, there was a part
of him which was also a tiny bit relieved. He loved Lois,
of course, and he wanted nothing more than to have her as
his girlfriend... his wife, even, if she would have him.
But at the moment they were best friends, and after a long
time and a lot of hard work he had her trust. If they
dated, became romantically involved, and it all went pear-
shaped, what would happen to their friendship?

But he had already faced that question, he reminded
himself. He had been over and over that in his mind before
asking her out in the first place. And she had also
considered that same point, he was well aware. She'd even
brought it up with him in conversation, while she was
wondering whether or not their dating was a good idea.

The same issue had been very much in the back of both their
minds on their 'almost first date'; there had been that
very awkward moment when she had fallen on top of him on
the couch. They had ended up staring into each other's
eyes, and he had ached to kiss her. Yet something had held
him back, and there had been something in her eyes which
suggested that she had also been torn. They had both known,
instinctively, that one kiss then could plunge them over a
precipice into the complete unknown. They had, together but
independently, retreated to the security of their
friendship, preferring the comfortable and familiar over
the uncertainty of what lay beyond it.

And for Clark there was more to that unknown than Lois
could know. There was the question of his secret identity
to deal with. If he and Lois became romantically involved,
he would have to tell her the truth about Superman. And
that was something about which he had an enormous sense of
mixed feelings.

It wasn't a question of trust; never that. He trusted Lois
implicitly by this point. She'd proven over and over that
she wouldn't betray Superman and that she considered her
loyalty to him more important than getting a story. She
hadn't reported the existence of Kryptonite, nor had she
printed the fact that his powers could be transferred.
She'd even stopped Jimmy photographing Superman being
defeated by Metallo.

No, it wasn't trust. It was something far less important,
and about which Clark felt ashamed. Because of that, he
preferred not to think about it. The real reason he was
reluctant to tell Lois his secret was because he was afraid
of what her reaction would be - particularly whether she'd
want him because he was Superman, and not because he was
Clark.

Not something to be proud of, he told himself. After all,
they were best friends and almost dating. He should have
more faith in her than that. But still...

Pouring himself a much-needed cup of coffee, he was about
to raise the drink to his lips when he suddenly became
aware of *something.* Not quite a sound, not quite a
movement... just some instinct telling him that there was
*something* outside. On his balcony...

With a burst of very silent Super-speed, in under a second
he was standing at the door to the balcony, his glasses in
his hand as he gazed through the closed door using X-ray
vision. What he saw made him almost keel over in shock; the
next second, he was pinching himself to ensure that he was
awake.

Superman was landing on his balcony.

Martha felt the heartburn eat away at her chest. She really needed an antacid tablet and, for the hundredth time, chided herself for not keeping a bottle upstairs. She got up, trying not to disturb Jonathan, and headed downstairs. She stopped halfway down and saw Clark lying on the couch looking up at the ceiling. When he removed his glasses, she realized that he was probably using his x-ray vision to look through the ceiling right where Lois was washing up. She wanted to go downstairs and scold her son, but before she could, she watched him get up, stand taller than usual, shoulders further back, and walk toward the stairs. Martha moved quickly to her own bedroom, peering out through the opening of the door.

Clark walked up the stairs and, without any regard for the doorknob or for Lois's privacy, opened the door. Martha was ready to go to her son and pull him out of there by his ear when she heard his voice.

"Lois?"

Martha moved out into the hallway and stood looking into the washroom. Lois pulled back the shower curtains.

"Sorry that I slept so long. I've missed you," he said in a husky voice that she didn't recognize.

Martha watched as Clark, removing his sleepshorts and t-shirt, stepped in the shower.

"Superman?" Lois asked.

Martha proceeded down the stairs to the kitchen

It had been a long day and she suddenly felt tired. All she wanted was to go upstairs, crawl into bed, and fall asleep in Clark's arms.

Standing at the foot of the stairs, she called to Clark, "Are you ready to come up?"

Clark faced her, standing absolutely still. "No, Lois. I'm staying down here."

"But, I thought you remembered everything."

"I do, but..." He wasn't sure how to explain this to her. "I'm sorry, Lois," he finally said very softly, "I'm not the man you want."

"But, I..."

"No, Lois. I'm not coming up." He began pulling out the couch and making up the bed.

Lois watched for a few seconds, and feeling an unexpected hollowness in her chest, she slowly forced herself upstairs.

Clark lay on the couch looking at the ceiling. He could hear the sound of the water in the sink, Lois brushing her teeth, and the sound of the occasional sniffle. He wished that it were still yesterday so that he could become Superman and just walk up the stairs and take her in his arms and tell her that it would be all right. Then he would lead her to his bed, and they could make love as they had the night before.

Instead, he was better. Right! he thought sarcastically. Now he knew that Clark Kent and Superman were one person, the one thing, the one person whom he wanted the most was out of his reach. She loved Superman, but that wasn't him.

She had been incredibly supportive of him, bringing him back to Smallville and helping him get better, but that was probably because she wanted to have Superman back. He was surprised that once she knew he was Clark, she still invited him up to her bed. Well, maybe Clark was the price she had to pay for having Superman.

"What did you mean when you told me that you weren't the man that I wanted? How dare you presume to know what I want and don't want?"

"Which question do you want me to answer?"

"Don't be a smart *** , Kent. This is serious. This is my life that we're talking about here."

"So?"

"So? What did you mean?"

"I made a mistake when I made love to you that first time."

Awareness slowly came to Lois as she stretched lazily in bed. She felt cocooned in a wonderful feeling as she awoke. All of a sudden the memories of what happened last night came crashing down on her mind. Oh God, did she really make love with Clark on their first date? She reached over to the spot where he had been laying to find it empty and cold. She listened to the absolute silence in the apartment, unbroken except by the muffled hum of the refrigerator. She sat up with a bolt and rubbed her eyes of sleep. Sobs bubbled from her mouth as she realized all her fears were coming true. Why did all the men in her life hurt her like this?

She reluctantly pushed herself up and strode into the bathroom to shower and get ready for work. She knew she was going to have to face Clark at the Planet and she wasn't looking forward to it. As she went through the motions of her morning routine, images of what had happened with Claude flooded into her thoughts. The snickering she would walk in on, the quiet stares, the lewd comments from other men were too much to bear. Claude told stories behind her back, spreading rumors about how easy she was. God, it was happening all over again, she thought in a panic as she rushed to get ready for work.

As she reached for her shoes in her closet and slipped them on her feet, she spotted the notepad on the nightstand for the first time. Why hadn't she noticed it before? She walked over to the nightstand and sat on the bed's edge. Tearing the note from the pad, she held it to read:

Sweet Lois,

I am terribly sorry for having to leave so early this morning. I had an emergency that I couldn't ignore. I'll see you when you get to the Planet and explain then.

All my love, Clark

Tears welled in her eyes as she read the words. She hoped the note was true, that he hadn't meant to avoid her the morning after, and that he would explain later. Maybe he wasn't pulling a Claude. She wiped her eyes and rose to leave, stuffing the note into her jacket pocket.

"Answer my question!" Foster sounded angry now.
"Any further inquiry will have to be made directly to Dr. Plotkin."
Her tone had taken on a warning quality.
"You..." Foster was enraged.
"Sir, I will have to ask you to leave." Judith was standing her
ground even though Clark knew her heart raced. Clark thought this would be
a good time to stand up. He walked to where he could stand almost next to
Judith and Foster was now eyeing Clark's large, imposing frame. Foster
stomped out, muttering.
After Clark was sure he heard Foster leave the building, he sighed,
letting the tension flow out of his limbs. Judith, who had waited
patiently while watching Clark listen, also exhaled and then slipped into
her desk chair.
"Sorry about the kiss," she said. "I saw that in a movie once. It
was useful that it occurred to me tonight."
"It's a good trick. I've used it myself," Clark answered,
remembering when he had kissed Lois during the stakeout in the Lexor Hotel
honeymoon suite. At the time, when they were about to be discovered with
surveillance equipment by a maid, he had been glad he had thought of it
too. Of course, any excuse to kiss Lois had had to be seized upon. He had
daydreamed about it for months after as a special bonus. Now he wasn't
sure he would ever get to kiss Lois again.
"You'll never know how sorry I am that I'm not Lois," Judith said
quietly.
Clark looked down at her and saw that she had turned away, softly
weeping.
"I'm sorry," he was at a complete loss. "You've been terrific.
Please...don't cry."
"I am not crying because you haven't fallen head over heels for me
in a day and a half," she got out. "I think you're...wonderful. Even
though you've been depressed, I can tell how sweet you are. I have never
in my life met someone so strong and yet as gentle and good as you. I know
you could never love anyone but Lois. But I can't help feeling that if I
knew you loved me, I would *never* treat you the way she has." She sounded
angry at the end.
"I probably deserve how she's treating me," he said gently, getting
down on one knee to be at eye level with Judith. She turned toward him,
shaking her head in disagreement, and he embraced her. He felt that they
both could use some comforting, feeling only protective in a brotherly sort
of way. He fervently hoped she could sense that as she had sensed
everything else so far.

Behind them, the cabin began its day as it usually did, basking in the weak spring sunshine as the sun rose over the lake. The light gilded the snow piled up against its boards and on its roof and sparkled off the blank eyes of its windows as the cruiser slowly pulled out down the track and was swallowed up by the trees that guarded the cabin's seclusion.

Eventually, there would be a thaw.

But, for now at least, a delicately-etched heart glistened on an ice-coated window pane, like a promise of something wondrous and new.

LL
L
CK

Lois Lane loves Clark Kent.

It was - as they say - a beginning.

She got up off the couch. "I'll see you in the morning," she said, leaning over and giving him a light kiss on the cheek before heading for the door, picking up her socks and boots on the way. She had to get out of here now. She'd put her things on outside.

"Lois?"

"Yeah?" asked Lois turning to face him.

Clark got up, but didn't approach. "Will my feelings be real tomorrow?" he asked.

"I hope so, Clark," she said before turning back to the door and grasping the doorknob. However, rather than opening the door, she stood there, thinking about Clark's question. If this was Miranda's perfume, and in Lois' mind that was the most likely possibility, then it should take two days to wear off. But this was Superman. She supposed it could wear off more quickly on him.

So what would happen tomorrow if the perfume's effects were gone? Would that mean everything would go back to normal? After all, Clark's inhibitions might have to do with more than a fear of rejection. He might have never let her know how he felt for a hundred other reasons. Maybe he didn't feel ready for a relationship and didn't want to risk hurting her. Maybe he didn't think it was right, because he was an alien, to get involved with anyone. Maybe he was afraid of what might happen to her if it became known that she was in a relationship with Superman. Maybe he was afraid of the strain Superman's lifestyle might place on a relationship. Maybe he didn't believe he was supposed to have a life here.

And what would that mean for them? What if tonight was all they would ever have? The instant that thought sunk in, she turned around. Dropping her boots and socks on the way, she practically flew down the stairs and back into Clark's arms.

Perry White had been so sure.

Just as he knew that the sun would rise every morning and set
every evening, just as he knew that Elvis was alive and well and
living incognito with a tribe in the Amazon basin, just as he
knew that the Metropolis Oaks were the worst baseball team in the
country, and just as he knew that no reporter should ever go into
Suicide Slum without back-up, Perry White had known that Clark
Kent was Superman. There were few certainties in the world, but
that had been one of them.

When Clark's death had been broadcast over the police
frequencies, Perry had taken the news with a spadeful of salt.
Someone had made a mistake. No doubt about it.

Then, when the news crews had shown up at the scene and
interviewed the first eyewitnesses, he'd known Clark's death for
what it was: a ruse. It had to be.

Perry had watched seven eye-witness accounts dispassionately,
letting the stunned reactions of the rest of the newsroom staff
wash over him. Give it five minutes... ten minutes... an hour...
two hours tops... and Clark would step out of the elevator,
looking just the same as ever, armed with a semi-convincing story
to explain away his miraculous escape from certain death.

Clark would convince everyone.

Except Perry, because Perry knew better.

"Happy Valentine's Day, honey," he murmured. "I know you think I'm a sentimental old softie, but I couldn't let this day go by without telling you how much I love you."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt tears prickle sharply at the back of his eyes. He sagged against the tablet, momentarily unable to hold himself together. She'd left him far too soon...

But he'd made a promise to himself this morning, hadn't he? He stood up sharply and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, honey," he told her. "I didn't mean to do that."

He gazed silently down at the tablet again, composing himself by drawing on her remembered strength. She'd been his anchor for so many, many years. There was no reason why she couldn't continue to be so, just because she was gone.

"Most everyone thinks that only Kryptonite can hurt Superman, but that can only kill me. You have the power to destroy Superman."

She gasped. What was he saying? She wanted to deny his bold statement. Surely he knew she would never do anything to hurt him?

"Lois, I would never, under any circumstances, allow you to come to harm if I could prevent it. I will always try to save you, even from yourself. You are too important to me. You are a part of me. I can't imagine my life without you anymore." The other shoe had just dropped for Lois, but she let him continue. "I told everyone that I would respect and abide by the rules of law for their countries, yet I already broke that promise when I broke you out of jail after that murder trial."

"But I was framed. You knew I was innocent." He just stared at her. She waved her hand at him. "Okay, okay, I get it."

"No, I still don't think you quite understand. I would compromise everything that Superman stands for to save you, Lois. I would commit crimes. I would overthrow governments."

Lois suddenly felt an icy chill stab at her heart. "Would you kill?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

The pain in his eyes was like a physical blow to her. "Don't ask me that."

She reached out her hand, but was afraid to touch him. "Why?"

"Because I don't know the answer. Because there is no answer. Either way would mean my destruction."

"Lois, you'll freeze."

"No I won't. Put your jacket back on."

"Lois--"

"Trust me."

Clark, though unconvinced, put his jacket back on. Lois then slipped both her arms under his jacket and around his waist, "See? We both stay warm."

Clark wrapped his arms around her. She seemed so small sometimes, so fragile. Perhaps it was this thought, or the ocean breeze, or just that in the quiet night with no one interrupting, Clark slipped, "I love you, Lois."

Lois was taken completely off guard, "What?"

Clark felt an instant surge of panic. He had been so careful all night, "Lois..I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I mean I *did* mean that...I just know that it's not the right time yet. I mean that you're--"

"Shh," Lois said, and nuzzled against his shoulder. She felt warm and drowsy, and now had her answer. His heart was indeed just as foolish. "Don't worry about it, Clark," she said, and pulled back slightly to look at his face. There was just enough ambient light from the city to reflect the soft glow in his eyes, "I want this to work between us as much as you do," she hooked a finger playfully under his necktie, "And though this one date can't make up completely for your 'disappearing act', it came
pretty darn close, partner."

Clark, relieved and strengthened by her reassurance, leaned forward and initiated a kiss. It was not born of passion, but rather of joy. They mutually sampled the flavor of each other for several minutes, and then began a silent, but satisfied journey back to Lois's apartment. After a brief goodbye at Lois's door and a plan to spend the afternoon together at the Daily Planet street fair, Clark walked back into the night, and began to levitate. He held his arms out from his sides, tipped his head back, and smiled as a faint mist began to fall, "Thank you," he whispered, and vanished into the night sky.

"So... the boy-scout's having second thoughts about breaking a murderer out of jail."

"Are you?"

"Am I... what?"

"A murderer."

Without answering the question, she turned away from him, wandering slowly through the living room until she stopped to pick up a picture of Clark with his parents.

"Well," he finally said, "it's late. Why don't you just..."

"Why did you do it?" Lois interrupted, turning suddenly towards him.

He didn't ask what she was referring to. It wasn't necessary. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I didn't really think it through. But when I saw that guy manhandling you..." He shrugged. When he saw her eyebrows rise, he quickly changed the subject. "To tell the truth, I don't even know what happens now."

"Well, if you're expecting... something... in exchange for your assistance, you can forget it."

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on," Lois responded. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Don't try to hide behind that..." She gestured, sweeping her hand in an up and down motion towards him. "...all-American boy-scout image. I was handling Max. And I can handle you, too."

"You think..."

"I don't think. I know that even if you put on that boy-scout image, you don't do something this drastic without expecting something..."

"Ms. Lane," he interrupted, his temper rising, "I assure you, sleeping with you is the last thing on my mind."

"Yeah, right." She turned away from him.

He covered the distance between them, taking her by the shoulders and turning her towards him. His lips landed on hers, pulling away again before she could react and releasing her. He smacked his lips together. "Nah. Not my type." He couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction at the stunned look on her face.

He walked away, going into his room. She was still standing, looking at him in confusion when he returned carrying some sheets, a blanket and pillow. He handed them to her. "The couch makes up into a bed. Goodnight, Ms. Lane. It's past my bedtime. Feel free to raid my kitchen if you're hungry."

Lois laughed, then grew quiet as she watched Clark set up their tent. He had stripped his shirt off in the hot sun and was working quickly, although not *super* quickly. His back muscles rippled as he moved, and his strong biceps flexed as he lifted the tent into place. Clad only in tan shorts and tennis shoes, he made quite an impression. 'God, is he gorgeous or what?' Only the sound of laughter made Lois realize that her companions were at that moment voicing her exact thoughts.

"Sorry, Lois," Cindy giggled. "It's just that one of the highlights of this trip for the women has always been watching your husband set up his tent."

A few years ago, Lois realized, she would have felt quite possessive and jealous had she witnessed other women ogling her partner, or worse yet, her Superman. But now, Lois simply giggled along with them, secure in the knowledge that he was hers and she was his and that fact would never change.

"I saw them!" she almost yelled. "I went over to
Clark's apartment - I knocked, but they didn't even
hear me! They were engrossed in each other... half-
naked and kissing as if they couldn't get enough of
each other." She pulled a face, repulsed again by the
memory.

"But I can't really blame him," she continued, more
calmly now, her tone sad. "I never told him how I
felt about him. I never showed him... I mean, I just
took him for granted. He deserved more than that, so
I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he took it when
it was offered." The tears were threatening again;
Lois brushed one away with the back of her hand
before reaching across to the coffee-table for
another Kleenex.

And then she saw Superman's face. He looked
completely stunned, as if someone had hit him with a
Kryptonite two by four.

"Superman?"

She smiled at him and he found himself feeling vaguely uncomfortable. "Tell
me Superman, what would you think of someone who constantly lies to you
about what he is doing, who disappears at the drop of a hat and who never
tells you the real reason why he's been gone?"

She looked at him owlishly, and he was at a loss to know what to respond.
"I'm not sure what you mean Lois," he began, "if you're talking about
Clark.."

"Ah yes, let's talk about Clark," she interrupted him, as she staggered to her
feet and lurched into the kitchen. He tried to steer her gently toward the
kitchen table, and was startled when she brushed his hands away angrily.

'Lois, please sit down. I'll make you some coffee." He tried once again to
get her to sit down.

"Yeah well, you can make the coffee," she conceded grudgingly more or less
falling into the chair he'd pulled away from the table for her, "but only
because the world won't stay still."

Hiding a smile, he turned to the cabinets where Lois kept her coffee and
mugs. As he pulled the items he needed from the shelves she began to speak
again.

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