TOVOM TOC * * * * * * * * * *
Part 2Lois backed away from Clark, shocked by her discovery.
She could admit to herself that she’d thought about it before, even more so now that they had become closer in recent months. She had compared Clark and Superman in her mind, though she couldn’t possibly have known the truth. Really, though, the hints had been there, if she had been willing to allow herself to believe the evidence.
Clark Kent was an amazing kisser. The brief goodbye kiss during the heat wave last year? Tender and sweet. The rouse before they were pushed out of Trask’s plane? Pleasurable, but just a distraction. The distraction in the Lexor Hotel? That one should have prompted her to demand more.
But even Superman’s pheromone-induced kiss didn’t compare to what Clark Kent had just done to her on her couch. His strong fingers working their way through her hair, touching spots on her scalp that sent an electric zing through her nervous system. The press of his full, swollen lips against hers, and the soft moans that scattered her thoughts. His broad tongue slipping between her teeth and frantically jousting with hers.
There were no words to describe the sheer bliss of being in Clark’s embrace. Though as she backed away, straightening her hair and clothing and attempting to chill her libido, Lois felt like she could get very used to sharing plenty more of these kisses in the future.
Lois took a step away from the couch, visibly eyeing a clock. She said, “We need to get back to the Daily Planet and get to the bottom of this gangster business.”
She saw a flash of emotion cross his eyes, but it was too fleeting to identify. He seemed nervous. Understanding dawned on her. “Oh, of course. You need to lay low until the police catch these guys.”
Clark sighed, then pushed himself off the couch. “Well, that was too good to last,” he seemed to say to himself.
Lois talked over him. “You hang out here today. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She picked up her keys and purse from the coffee table and took a few steps to the door.
He followed her and seemed to breathe her first name.
Lois spun to face him and pulled him into a fierce kiss, intent on imprinting the ghost of his lips in her mind, where she could bask in the memories all day. She whispered fiercely against his mouth, “I love you.”
Clark smiled shyly and said, “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that to me my whole life.”
Lois smiled, then said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She left her apartment, walking through her building and humming softly to herself. Leaving the front entry and stepping into the morning sun, she marveled at the difference the life of one man had on her – how dreary the world had seemed without him all through the night, and how vibrant the world seemed now with the rising sun.
Lois began walking towards her Jeep’s parking spot, then felt a sudden whoosh of air rush past her as Superman dropped from the sky. Her eyes widened in delight.
Superman began to speak in his serious, authoritative voice. “Lois...”
But she cut him off by pulling him into a hug. “Superman! I can never thank you enough for saving Clark’s life.” She squeezed him gleefully, holding tightly until she felt his reluctant arms circle loosely around her back.
He only held on for a moment before he broke the hug, placing his hands on the outsides of her upper arms. He opened his mouth to say something.
Lois cut him off again. “I’ve been blind to a lot of things in my life, but when those bullets hit, I finally recognized the truth.” She looked Superman in the eyes. “I love Clark Kent. And I love you for bringing him back to me.”
Superman stopped talking. His jaw hung open as if his ability to speak had been stripped from him. It was funny to see him like that – frozen in a rigid stupor. It was even funnier to think that she had caused that look, that she could have such a profound effect on him.
For two years, she had dreamed of affecting him – dreamed of his affection. But he had been unattainable, nothing more than a concerned friend. Or, at least, that’s how he always acted. But behind the facade, if he could be honest with her about his feelings, she was just sure that she had seen flashes of more hiding behind his eyes.
He had even once admitted that he cared for her. The memory flashed through Lois’ mind, paired with a familiar flash of embarrassment. If only she had recognized and acknowledged her true feelings for Clark back then...
Lois caught her breath, steadying herself against the pang of regret. So many months wasted, pretending to love a man who was really only a friend. So many months wasted, pretending not to love a man who was really much more than a friend.
One gunshot had cemented that regret. One miracle had resurrected their future.
She was determined to hold onto that future, to honor the miracle that had brought Clark back from the dead. Determined to retire her fantasy and revel in reality. Lois cupped her left hand around the back of Superman’s head, bending him down to her level. Then she kissed him on the cheek, pressing and holding her lips there, to show him the truth of her friendship for him and her gratitude for his part in bringing her true love back to her.
Lois took a step back; she saw Superman open his eyes and exhale slowly. Resolve coursed through her veins. “I’ve gotta go. Those gangsters are gonna wish they had never messed with Lois Lane and Clark Kent.”
She smiled while taking a few backwards steps, then turned and walked away.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Who are you?” the stern voice boomed from behind him.
Barry turned his head towards his brother’s voice and saw Superman stepping through the window of Lois’ apartment. He wasn’t surprised; he knew he’d inevitably have to face the man, but had hoped the confrontation would be later rather than sooner. He had hoped to have more private time with Lois first.
Barry put on his fake New Troy accent. “I’m you. Don’tcha remember?” There was a look of surprise in Clark’s eyes, similar to the look that Sammy had given him when he had used the accent in the talent agent’s office yesterday. After Lois and Clark had left Sammy’s office, his old friend had looked at him oddly and had asked, “What was that about?” Barry had laughed, saying he was just being funny, and Sammy had laughed along with him, mocking his horribly fake accent.
But Barry had kept the real reason for the accent to himself – the flash of panic he had felt upon entering the office and seeing two people he hadn’t expected to see up close again. Something instinctively urged him to protect his secret – conceal his identity. And the embarrassingly bad accent had spilled out of his mouth.
Ironic, then, that he could condemn his brother for keeping secrets, too. Barry chose not to analyze that irony too closely.
Superman looked at him curiously and asked with a wary tone, “Barry?”
Barry gave a mock bow and said, “At your service.”
Superman crossed the living room to stand next to Barry. His eyes betrayed his confusion even as he affected his typically impassive stance. “What are you doing?”
Barry stood up from the couch, picking up his copy of the Daily Planet. He lost the fake accent. “No, Clark, what are you doing?” He slapped the newspaper into Clark’s stomach.
Clark caught the paper with his right hand and held it against himself for a moment. Then he took the paper into his hands, glancing down at the front cover to the only article that seemed relevant. He set the newspaper down on the end table, then asked with a soft tone that was full of fear, “Who are you, really?”
“I’m you. Don’t you remember?” Barry said softly, innocently, and with a trace of sadness.
Maybe it was the childlike quality he had let creep back into his voice that proved to be the necessary clue. Recognition registered in Clark’s eyes as he cocked his head and asked, “Brother?”
Barry nodded. “Honestly, I was surprised you didn’t recognize me in Sammy’s office.” He made a point of looking up and down the suit. “I recognized you.”
Clark circled Barry, examining him as if there was some way to independently verify his claim. “Well, to be fair, I thought you were...”
“Dead?” Barry supplied the word.
Clark’s eyes flicked away; just a fraction of a second in time was enough to see the mixture of emotions that had flashed through him. “Yeah,” he said quietly.
Barry put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I guess I’m as dead as Clark Kent is.”
Clark’s impassive stance crumbled; his spine lost Superman’s rigidity as he seemed to sink into himself. “What happened to you?”
Barry’s eyes searched up and away for the memory. “I was heading for the sun, in excruciating pain, but determined to make it. As I flew closer, the sun kept feeling hotter and brighter, and the pain grew more and more intense. At some point, I passed out. I don’t remember exactly what happened after that, if I fell or if I somehow unconsciously flew back home. The next thing I knew, I was lying in the middle of Centennial Park.”
Clark listened silently but nodded, urging Barry to continue his story.
“I don’t know how long I had been lying there; I just knew I wasn’t in pain. I’ve thought about it a lot since then. I always seem to feel better when I’ve been out in the sun all day. It’s like it recharges me.”
Clark agreed. “I get my powers from the sun.”
“Oh. My father...” Barry grimaced, because that phrase touched too closely to the life he had left behind. “Lex Luthor always kept me inside. Maybe he didn’t understand how I worked.” He offered a wry smile. “How we work. Or maybe the sun healed me. Anyway, however it happened, I’m still here.”
Clark leaned against the couch, his body language less guarded, as if Barry had earned a measure of trust. “So where have you been?”
“Around.” Barry smiled and winked. “Pretending to be you. It pays more than you’d think.”
Clark rolled his eyes, but then tightened his lips as if he had forgotten that he had no reason to smile. “You know, you could’ve come to see me anytime. Why haven’t you showed up until...now?” Clark glanced down at the newspaper when he said that last word.
He sighed and tried to explain. “Because I’m not him...that...I’m not you. I’m Barry now. And I like my life. I have fun. But when I saw that...” Barry pointed to the article.
He couldn’t explain – Clark didn’t deserve an explanation. Barry felt a year’s worth of emotions consume him. The dreams he had had of her, tucked under his body and pressing her warm lips against his. Her radiant smile, when she had thought he was someone else. Oh, she was so hot. After an entire year, a lifetime away from that moment, Lois Lane was still unforgettable.
So when he had walked into Sammy’s office and had seen her, sitting next to the other him – well, he could acknowledge his jealousy. But he was resigned to it – Lois belonged to Clark. That hadn’t stopped him from smirking as he looked through her shirt, though.
And it would have been okay – Barry could have happily gone back to his regular life – until Lois took a picture of Superman out of her purse. Absurd, he had thought. Clark was her partner – he was sitting right next to her. If they were together, she would have a photo of Clark in her wallet instead.
So it was clear he hadn’t told her, that she didn’t know the most important thing about him. His brother was an absolute coward.
But the final straw was the article in this morning’s paper. That’s when Barry had gotten angry, and he felt the emotion build inside him again. Clark Kent had faked his own death. Lois Lane, who Barry would willingly treasure with everything he had, was sad because his brother was a liar. And, impulsively, Barry had flown to Lois’ apartment ready to tell her the truth.
Barry straightened his spine and removed all traces of his jovial personality from his face. “When I saw the article, it seemed obvious that you hadn’t told her about you. Otherwise, why would she have had a picture of Superman in her purse?”
Clark stood up straight, squaring his shoulders. “So, what, you were just going to sweep in here and take over my life?”
“I don’t want your life. I don’t want to be Clark Kent. I told her I was a clone. It’s not my fault she didn’t ask a follow-up question.”
Clark narrowed his eyes. “So you just want her.”
And something in the way Clark looked at him, the evident jealousy burning behind his eyes, irked Barry. How arrogant that Clark believed he had an exclusive right to Lois. “Why not?” Barry asked, intending to wound Clark where it would hurt the most. “If you don’t want to love her, then I will. And it’s obvious you don’t want her or you wouldn’t have faked your death.”
“I didn’t have a choice!” Clark raised his voice in a pitch of despair. “Some people would go to any lengths to find a way to hurt me.” Clark set his jaw. “You know that better than anyone.”
“So you get an exclusive hold on her? You won’t have her, but no one else can either?” Barry scoffed. “That’s so arrogant.”
“I love her.”
“Not enough to be honest with her.”
“So now you’re my moral judge? You get to decide when I tell her the truth?”
“The truth that Clark’s alive? She already knows that. And I guess I don’t need to tell her the truth about Superman. You know, I thought there was only room in this world for one of us. But maybe I was wrong.”
Clark put his hands on his hips. “We may have the same DNA, but our memories, our experiences make us different. You can’t just decide to be me.”
“No, I’m not you.” Now Barry put his hands on his hips. “I’m better than you. Because I threw away my life as a superman out of love for my brother, but you threw away your life as Clark for nothing.”
“Get out,” Clark said with a tone of menace he probably effectively wielded against everyone else.
Barry set his jaw, unwilling to be intimidated. “Make me.”
* * * * * * * * * *
“What the hell is going on here?” Lois shouted from her doorway.
Clark and Barry froze. Clark’s arm was wrapped around Barry’s neck, gripping him in a headlock, and Barry’s leg was locked around Clark’s, pinning him to the ground. Clark couldn’t imagine how shocking it must look to Lois to see Superman and Clark fighting like characters from the World Wrestling Federation.
Clark followed Lois’ eyes as she scanned the room. The apartment was in shambles; furniture overturned, holes in the drywall. Clark and Barry had been fighting, and the evidence was strewn about the room. He was breathing hard, muscles exhausted, desperately tired. Though Clark had easily defeated Barry a year ago, they were more than evenly matched now.
Clark released Barry and used the remainder of his energy to swirl around the apartment and right Lois’ furniture. He set a broken lamp carefully onto a table with an embarrassed wince. “I’m so sorry.”
Barry muttered, “That’s coming out of your paycheck.”
Clark turned to glare at his brother, but the odd smile tugging at Barry’s lip betrayed his amusement and the look in his eye suddenly dissipated the conflict between them. Somehow, fighting his brother had cleared the air between them and oddly left him in a place of contentment.
Spontaneously, they both laughed at the absurdity of the situation.
Lois looked back and forth between the two of them, her eyes wide with surprise. “Care to explain?”
Clark looked at Barry to see if he was going to speak. Barry looked back at him, silently communicating his support. Clark nodded slightly, acknowledging to both Barry and himself that it was time to end the lies.
Barry pointed at him. “He’s Clark.”
Clark pointed at Barry. “He’s Superman.”
Barry’s voice dipped in astonishment. “I am *not* Superman!”
Clark shrugged. “Well, you could be.”
Barry shook his head. “But I don’t want to be Superman.”
Clark smiled. “It might be nice to have a vacation every once in a while.”
Barry rolled his eyes. “I get paid by the hour.”
Lois interjected. “Geez, you two fight like brothers.” Her eyes widened as she looked back and forth between the two of them. “That’s why you can always get ahold of Superman so quickly.”
Clark stepped forward. “No, Lois. We’re not brothers. Not really.” He looked at Barry, who shrugged his shoulders and silently seemed to communicate what seemed to be a signal of acceptance. Then he continued, “But he’s like a brother to me. He’s a clone. He was made using cells from hair that I donated to a charity auction last year. Do you remember?”
Lois felt a flutter of fear as she took a step back away from both of them.
Barry held up his hands. “I apologize for that. My behavior last year was unacceptable. But to be fair, I was only a few days old at the time.”
Lois said, “I really need someone to explain to me what’s going on, right now.”
Clark seemed to draw in a breath, then gestured his hand towards the clone. “Lois, this is Barry. He was cloned by Lex Luthor, who used him to try and hurt me. But he’s been working as a Superman look-alike for the past year and really has changed the way he sees the world.”
Lois glanced back, then asked in a voice that seemed to indicate she already knew the answer, “Then why does he look so much like Clark?”
Clark drew in a breath again, trying to push past his evident fear. “Because I’m Clark.”
Lois stood silently, processing the information
“I know I should have told you...” Clark began stammering in a nervous rush.
But Lois silenced him with one upturned hand, turning to Barry instead. “So why haven’t I seen you flying around lately?” Then she narrowed her eyes. “Or have I?”
Barry shook his head. “The first time I’ve seen you in the past year was at Sammy’s office. I swear. I’m not Superman and I don’t want to be him. In fact, I almost never even use his powers. Ever since I found out the truth about who I am, I’ve been laying low and learning that the real world is nothing like Lex Luthor taught me to believe. And I’ve had a happy life, just being me.”
Lois whipped around suddenly to face Clark. “And you! You’ve let me think you’re two different people for two years. You let me believe that you died in my arms!”
“I didn’t know what else to do! I had to pretend I was dead or everyone would know I was Superman. Now everything I’ve worked for...my job, my friends, my life...is over.”
“You should have told me!”
“I know. I’ve known it for so long. I wish I had. I just...” Clark smoothed his hands over his hair. “I’ve just screwed this up so badly.”
Clark could see a tear shining in Lois’ eye as she puffed angry, heavy breaths. Then she looked at the floor, shaking her head as if she was engaging in an argument with herself. Clark watched silently, giving her time and space to process his secret.
After a few minutes, Lois took a few tentative steps towards Barry and lowered her voice, even though it was now clear that Clark would be able to hear what she said anyway. She whispered harshly to Barry, “You shouldn’t have let me kiss you!”
Barry couldn’t seem to prevent a slight smile from curling the corner of his lip. “You’re kind of hard to resist.”
Lois let a small laugh slip at the compliment.
Barry leaned in and quietly said next to her ear, “He’s a good man. Don’t be too hard on him. This secret we share is kind of a heavy burden to bear.”
Lois reached out and held Barry’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “I think you’ve grown into a pretty decent guy.” She smiled and then said, “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
Barry winked and said, “Oh, I’ll be around.” Then he nodded a goodbye to Clark, who returned the gesture.
Lois kissed Barry on the cheek; he hugged her tightly before letting her go. He hung his head as he walked to the apartment door. Barry opened the door, but paused, then looked back at the two of them with a sad smile and said, “Who knows? Maybe someday I’ll find my own Lois Lane.”
* * * * * * * * * *
The door closed behind Barry and the apartment suddenly seemed very quiet. “So...” Lois said.
“Yeah.” Clark’s eyes were cast downward like a small child waiting to be punished.
Silence stretched through the tense atmosphere of the apartment. She felt awkward standing near him without the usual easy camaraderie they typically shared. Lois moved to the couch and sat down. ‘Superman is Clark and Clark is Superman and Barry is just Barry.’ Odd how the existence of a clone seemed like the easiest idea to accept.
Clark shifted restlessly; it seemed strange to see Superman project anything other than confidence. “I’m just gonna go,” he said as he made a fractional movement towards the window.
“No,” Lois said softly. She saw him freeze. “Stay.” She shifted over on the couch to leave room, hinting that he should sit beside her.
She saw Clark hesitate, but then he complied, slowly walking around the couch and sitting on the cushion beside her. The cape was tucked underneath him, and he shifted uncomfortably, tugging as if it felt wrong to be sitting on top of it.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye. It did feel wrong for him to be sitting on the cape. Superman flies and stands and saves the day – he doesn’t lounge about like everyone else. Watching the man she thought she knew so well, just sitting there in those vibrant primary colors...it just somehow seemed wrong. “Can you just take off those clothes?” she asked. And then she felt a flash of guilt for wishing she had asked him that under entirely different circumstances.
He looked down at himself, his eyebrows knit in concern. “Oh. Yeah.” He stood, took a few steps away from her, and then stopped, as if he was unsure of what to do. Then he closed his eyes, sighed, and spun – a whirlwind of colors coalesced, transforming the superhero into her best friend.
And the awkward silence returned, settling on the two of them as Clark stood in front of her, shifting in place uncomfortably. The motion suited the man better in his more casual state of dress. Lois nudged her head sideways, mutely inviting him to sit back down. And again, he complied; it felt like he’d comply with whatever she wished for.
Clark again lowered his eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said in a voice filled with not only sorrow, but also with shame and regret. “I’m sorry that I hid the truth, that I wasn’t strong enough to be totally honest with you. And I can’t even begin to apologize for last night. That I let you think I had died in your arms – how I hurt you so badly. It’s unforgivable.”
Lois released a breath. “Yeah, it was pretty bad,” she said with a tightness in her throat.
“I know. I was just...” Clark shook his head, as if he was arguing with himself. “It doesn’t matter. There’s no excuse.”
Lois’ throat constricted and she nodded her head. “That’s true.”
Clark rubbed his eyes with his palms, then seemed to make a decision. “I should just go.”
“No. Stay. I still want you...” Her throat caught on the words that most of her still wished were said under different circumstances. “Here. I still want you here.”
“And I want to be here. With you. Always.”
“You should know...” Lois took a calming breath to gather courage. “Even after all of this...” Lois’ voice got very quiet. “I still have feelings for you.”
Clark caught his breath, then asked, “Like a brother?”
Lois looked away and admitted, “No, not like a brother.”
His eyebrows raised just slightly and the hint of a smile could be seen at the corner of his mouth. But he bit his lower lip to contain it. Then he said, “I’ve lied to you once before. After Lex...when I took it back. I’ve never stopped.”
Lois looked up and into his eyes. She caught his meaning – thought back to that time and what had led up to it. “Oh,” she said as she remembered the confessions she had made to both halves of him. A look of guilt crossed her face. “I understand why you didn’t tell me right away.”
“Lois...” He seemed to say her name as if he treasured it. Clark placed his hand over hers; the connection felt like them – like what they were and what they could be again. She didn’t pull away.
Lois dared to look deeply into Clark’s eyes, wanting to see him without any deception between them. What she saw there, combined with what she felt inside, gave her hope that they could get past the hurt they had both caused the other.
She placed her left hand on top of his and rubbed gently. “Come on,” she said, indicating the apartment’s front door with a nudge of her head. “We’ve got bad guys to catch.”
They released their hands and stood up. Lois started towards the door and Clark followed behind, guiding her with his hand at the small of her back. The familiar feeling made her smile, but she quickly suppressed it as she looked meaningfully at her partner. “Could you just give me one day to hold onto my righteous indignation?”
Clark released her and pushed his hands into his pockets like a child caught with a pilfered cookie. “Yeah, I can do that.”
Lois slid her hand against Clark’s cheek; he froze and looked adoringly at her, as if he was hoping she’d understand everything he felt for her. She slid her hand into his hair, then raised onto her toes and kissed him lightly on the lips.
And she knew they’d be okay.
* * * * * * * * * *
EpilogueOne Year Later... Centennial Park was his favorite place in the world.
Barry smiled and tipped his head in thanks as he received his hot dog from the vendor. The park was brimming with the simple pleasures of life that Barry enjoyed surrounding himself with so much. He strolled along the dirt paths that led deeper into the park, looking for an open bench where he could sit and eat his lunch.
‘Life is interesting,’ Barry thought as he watched the people of Metropolis enjoying the bright, sunny day. He’d eat his lunch, and then he’d strip off his shirt, lay in the grass, and let the sun’s rays soak into his skin, recharging his energy, regenerating his cellular structure, bringing that sense of peace and contentment he always felt here in his happy place.
Barry wandered near the park’s large pond, watching couples laugh as they floated on their paddle boats. Children played at the edge of the water, tossing bread crumbs at the ducks and squealing with sudden fear as the ducks came waddling out of the water, honking and squawking in their aggravated cries for more food. His eyes scanned the perimeter of the pond until they rested on a woman sitting hunched over, sadly gazing out at the water.
His stomach flipped, because it always flipped when he saw her. And though he hadn’t seen her since he had walked out of her apartment a year earlier, that part of his DNA, the part of him that irrationally seemed to belong to her, instantly recognized Lois Lane.
Barry froze in place, surreptitiously observing her while he decided what to do next. She looked desperately sad, with a lost frown that seemed in odd contrast to her vibrantly orange outfit. The white crop top jacket she wore was filthy, which made him think that perhaps she had just come from an undercover investigation that had gone terribly wrong. A part of his soul ached, and he felt himself walk towards her, pulled by an invisible magnetic force.
Barry halted beside her and said, with a voice he hoped sounded like casual friendship rather than desperate longing, “Hey, Lois! What are you doing here?”
She looked up at him, squinting slightly against the sunlight. “Oh. Hi, Clark.” Her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, then she looked out at the pond. “I was just so hungry. But I don’t see any frogs.”
An odd thing to say, thought Barry as he sat down beside her. He offered her his hot dog. “Here, have this.”
She smiled and took the food graciously. She bit into it and her eyes closed as if she savored the taste. And Barry watched her chew thoughtfully, enjoying the pleasure of her company. Comfortable silence stretched between them and he tried – he really tried – to stop his mind from making more of that than there really was.
But it was too easy to imagine how it would taste to lick the drop of mustard off the corner of her mouth. To gently push her backwards onto the soft grass, hitch his leg over hers, and engage in a shameless public display of affection. To hold her forever and bask in her glowing love.
Barry darted his eyes away, putting his fantasies back inside his guilty heart. Lois loved his brother, not the pale imitation.
He tried to find a safer topic of conversation. Once again, he cast his eye over her filthy clothing. “What happened to you?” he asked.
She finished the hot dog and looked down at herself. “I must have passed out. When I woke up, there was so much rubble around me, like the tunnel had collapsed. It took me hours to get out of there.”
Barry’s left hand automatically reached out to touch her knee, placing his palm gently against her skin as a gesture of support. “Are you okay?” Barry blinked as his x-ray vision kicked in – and he was shocked, because he rarely ever used the gifts he thought rightfully belonged to his brother. But he scanned her skeletal system and, by his admittedly unpracticed eye, Lois didn’t seem to have any broken bones.
She put the fingertips of her left hand to her temple in a gesture of confusion. “I think so.” Then she glanced off to her left, as if she was gazing back to wherever she had been when she had gotten hurt. “Lex is still down there, though. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”
Barry reeled back at the name. She must have meant his father, but that was impossible, because Lex Luthor was dead. But even the thought of his name brought back a flood of memories. His childhood – the lessons Luthor had taught him about life. The circumstances of his very existence. A small, smug smile tugged at the corner of his lip at the thought of how disappointed Lex Luthor would be with his son, and how satisfied Barry was with the man he had become.
Lois looked back at the ground, pulling blades of grass absently from the lawn. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll be dead in a few days, too.”
Pain squeezed his heart, and his hand again reached out to her of its own volition. Lightly gripping her arm, Barry asked, “Why would you say that?”
Lois titled her head as she turned to look at him. Her beautiful face was creased with sorrow. “I already told you. Lex cloned me ten days ago. He says I only have two weeks, tops.”
And the pain in Barry’s heart shattered, replaced with a rush of emotion he stopped himself from identifying. “You’re a clone? You’re not Lois Lane?” he gasped.
She shook her head as the expression on her face changed to light annoyance. “Don’t make fun of me.”
Barry stopped breathing; his hands came up to caress her face. And he watched her eyes – her beautiful, luminous eyes – as she gazed back at him. An emotion was hiding there – the emotion he had always hoped he’d one day see.
He bent forward, captured by the ingrained feelings for her that he had had his entire life. Barry kissed her, pressing his lips passionately against hers.
Barry felt her body freeze in surprise for a moment, but then her arms wrapped around his back and she leaned into his embrace. He darted his tongue across her lips, and she responding by parting her lips and moaning a soft sigh. And he was thrilled, because kissing was fun.
They broke apart slightly and Barry slid his hands down to encircle her waist. His eyes widened with delight as he told her, “Lex Luthor lied to me about that lifespan thing, too. And I’ve been around for a lot longer than two weeks.”
Her eyes lit up and sparkled, and her mouth turned into a smile with the brightest of wattages – a smile that could recharge him as effectively as the light of the sun. For the first time ever, Barry felt complete.
He smiled and confessed to the love of his life, “But I’m not Clark Kent. You can call me Barry.”
* * * * * * * * * *
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