Author's note: Thanks to KenJ and Trina for beta-reading. Enjoy!
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Chapter 3

“What now?”

“Now, we get some lunch and go back to the Planet.” He was looking at her quizzically.

“What?” she demanded.

“Lois, have you ever been to Paris?”

She shook her head.

“I didn't think so. Let's get take out; we'll walk back to the Planet.”

Lois protested; they only had limited time after all. Clark overruled her.

“The Tuileries is between here and the office. You should see at least some of Paris while you're here.”

“When you put it like that, how can I resist?”

* * * * *

They entered the Tuileries from a side gate near the Metro station and wended their way through the formal garden beds to a low terrace. Spotting an empty bench, Clark moved quickly to claim it. Entranced, Lois moved to the low wall at the edge of the terrace. From her vantage point, she could see a large part of the extensive gardens, as well as part of the pools at either end. She'd seen photos of the Tuileries before, but they didn’t do it justice. Standing there, she could understand why it had been a focal point for Parisian art and life for so long. It was easy to picture Bonaparte's procession and the great Impressionist artists, as well as a host of other Parisian notables.

Finally she walked away from the wall and joined Clark on the bench. He handed over the bag containing her lunch and unwrapped his own sandwich.

“The Tuileries has a rich history,” he commented.

“It's beautiful. Completely different to Centennial Park back home. It's more wild, more unplanned.”

He nodded in agreement. “So how are things back in Metropolis?”

“Well, Jimmy taught Perry how to use the Internet. I think he only uses it to look up Elvis websites; he's gotten even more Elvis stories than ever before.”

Clark nodded again. “I get emails from him from time to time. I was surprised to get the first one, didn't think Perry would ever get the hang of email.”

“Well, Jimmy is persistent.”

“How's Jimmy doing?”

“He's good. Actually Perry's been letting him take photos for the occasional story. You should see his face every time Perry uses one for the front page.”

“I can imagine.”

“Yeah. Well between that and the fact that he seems to have a new girlfriend every month, life's going pretty well for Jimmy.”

“He's young. He'll settle down.” Clark crumpled his sandwich wrapper in his hand. “And you? How are things with you and Dan?”

The question was careful, like someone prodding an open wound.

“Dan and I broke up months ago.”

“Oh. What happened?” His voice was gentle and caring.

“Well he was in Metropolis for two months and in that time we managed to go on six dates. Then he went back to Washington.” She shrugged. “I guess we just didn't have a lot in common.” The excuse sounded lame even to her, but she couldn't tell Clark the real reason they'd broken up. That by the time Dan came back from Washington Clark had left and Superman was gone and she'd been a wreck. That Dan had broken things off with her, telling her to go to Paris, find Clark and admit that she loved him. She'd denied it to Dan, but had had to face facts herself. She loved Clark Kent.

“I'm sorry, Lois.”

“Don't be” she answered, her voice soft. She caught herself looking into his eyes and glanced away, crumpling the paper wrappings from her sandwich and standing up. “We should get back to the Planet.”

* * * * *

Arriving back at the Planet office, Clark stopped at the bank of pigeon holes used by the transient staff to receive messages. As he hoped, there was one waiting from Brad. Reading it, he felt his heart sink. Behind him, he barely heard Lois as she asked him whom he got to do research. Not getting a response, she laid her hand on his arm.

“Clark? Is everything okay?”

He waved the sheet of paper. “It's a message from Brad Hancock, my contact in London. Bernard Young- the head of the restorations department at the Royal Academy- has been found floating in the Thames.”

Lois looked at him, aghast. “Murdered?”

He shook his head. “Brad says it looks like suicide.” He crumpled the message in his fist. “We've got to figure this out, Lois.”

“We will, Clark” she reassured him. “We'll stop whoever is doing this.” She gave him a smile. “We always do, right?”

“Yeah” he replied. “We do ... or at least we did. Anyway,” he changed the subject. “I don't normally have to do a lot of research in the office, I'm usually on the road somewhere. And I've never had to get anyone here to do anything ... sensitive.”

Lois thought for a moment. “What about Jimmy?”

Clark raised an eyebrow “Do you think he'd do it?”

Lois shrugged. “It can't hurt to ask. I think he misses working with you.” She paused. “We all do.”

“I miss you guys too” he said quietly.

He checked his watch and did a rapid calculation. “It's only 6am in Metropolis. Jimmy won't be in yet.”

He moved towards Lois' temporary desk and gestured to the computer. “Do you mind?”

At her assent he leaned over the side of the desk and quickly composed an email. Hitting send, he straightened back up and looked at her. “I asked him to get a list of all the white vans registered in the Paris districts with the letters GX in their plates. I also asked if he could try and trace Cesar Mathieu from his passport, but that might take a while even for Jimmy. He'll email the information to you, in case I'm gone by then.” He checked his watch again. “I have to be at the airport in ... just over 28 hours.”

“Can't you take a later flight?”

Her unusually demure tone should have warned him, but he was rusty when it came to dealing with Lois Lane.

“No, it's the last flight I can take that'll get me there on time. There's a reception I have to be at tomorrow night.”

“You sure you can't”- she made a strange gesture, like something taking off- “get there another way?”

He stared at her for a moment, puzzled, before the import of her gesture became clear to him.

“Conference room. Now” he managed to croak through a throat suddenly gone dry.

* * * * *

Lois watched as Clark's face paled from it's normal olive colouring to an unhealthy looking grey and cringed internally. She should've chosen a gentler way to tell him she knew his secret. In a voice completely unlike his normal tones, he got out a terse command.

“Conference room. Now.”

He turned on his heel and she was left following him as best she could. As soon as she was through the glass door he swung it closed. She heard the snick of the lock engaging as he shut the blind with the other hand. Finally he turned to face her, his expression wary.

“Clark, I know” she forestalled him.

“What, exactly, do you know?”

Making sure to keep her voice low, she replied. “I know you're Superman.”

He sank down into a chair and closed his eyes. She watched him worriedly. He looked like all his nightmares had come true, and in a way they probably had. He must have spent his entire life trying to hide his powers, and it would've only gotten worse once he became Superman. He couldn't risk any one making the connection between the reporter and the superhero.

Finally she spoke. “Clark?”

He opened his eyes and she could see the fear in them.

“How long have you known?”

“Around ... 5 months.”

“How?”

“A whole bunch of little things. The disappearances, your crazy excuses. You knowing things you couldn't possibly have known. You leaving Metropolis when Superman was forced out. Superman leaving Metropolis when you moved to France. It just all ... kind of fell into place.”

He leant forward, his elbows on his knees. “Does-does anyone else know?”

“I don't think so. Superman leaving a few weeks after Clark was a good idea. I only put it together because we'd spent so much time together.”

His shoulders relaxed a little and his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Are you mad?”

“I was. I was furious, Clark. And I was hurt.” She sighed. “But then I remembered all the times that I compared you unfavourably to Superman, or dismissed you and fawned over him – you – this is really confusing, you know.”

One corner of his mouth quirked, the closest thing to a smile she'd seen all day. “I talk about him in the third person sometimes. Mom hates it.”

She grinned. She could well imagine Martha Kent's reaction at Clark talking about himself in the third person.

“Anyway, I realised how badly I'd treated you. But I do want to know something, Clark. Why didn't you tell me?”

It was his turn to sigh. “I wanted to. I just – never knew how. By the time we were close enough for me to tell you, things just kept getting in the way.” He paused. “I should have told you after Dillinger shot me, but I panicked. Clark Kent was dead;shot in front of an audience ... my whole life was just – just gone. I didn't know what else to do, so I went to Smallville. I'm sorry, Lois. I should've told you then. I know you were upset.”

He looked so guilty and miserable that her heart went out to him. She reached out and lightly covered his hand with hers.

“It's okay, Clark. And later I'll probably have a million questions.” She withdrew her hand, acutely aware of her attraction to him and the closer relationship she craved. Businesslike, she continued. “But right now we have work to do.”

“Right.” He looked slightly dazed. “The story, right. What next ... partner?”

She smiled at him. She'd missed being Clark's partner so much. “Known associates of Mathieu? As head of the Louvre restorations department he has to be reasonably well known, at least in the art world, right?”

He nodded slightly in agreement. “Let's get to work.”

* * * * *

Clark commandeered the desk nearest Lois' when it's occupant left the building and together they delved into Mathieu's background and known associates, chasing lead after lead and getting ... stonewalled.

Frustrated, Clark leant back in his chair.

“I am getting nowhere.”

Lois looked up from her computer screen. “Me neither. But there's a reply from Jimmy.”

“What does he say?”

“Just that he's working on it and should have the registrations to us tomorrow.”

“Right.” Clark stood and stretched. “It's after 6. How about I go get us something to eat?”

“Sure” she replied, not looking up from the background information she was studying.

“Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” She looked up. “Hey, you know the Chinese you got, that first night at the Planet? It didn't really come from China, did it?”

He smiled. “Shanghai.”

As he left the newsroom he heard her grumble “No wonder I could never find the place.”

When he returned, arms laden with bamboo containers, he found Lois asleep at her desk, her head pillowed on her arm. He smiled softly at her. He guessed the jet lag had finally caught up with her. After all, with time zone changes she'd been up more than a full twenty four hours. She looked so peaceful, he didn't want to wake her, but he knew she'd get a sore neck sleeping like that. Gently he put his hand on her shoulder and shook her.

“C'mon Lois, you can't sleep like that.”

She sat up and looked at him blearily.

“Come on. I'll get you back to your hotel.”

After making sure Lois was safely at her hotel and promising to collect her in the morning, Clark ducked into a nearby alleyway. Taking off, he set course for Smallville. It was noon in Kansas. With luck he'd catch his parents at lunch.

Martha Kent heard the tell tale gust of wind that heralded Clark's arrival and smiled. They didn't get to see their only son very often since he'd left the United States. His usually quick step sounded slow and heavy coming up the steps to the porch. She turned in anticipation as she heard the kitchen door swing open and called over her shoulder “Jonathan, Clark's here!”

One look at the heartsick expression on her boy's face was enough to tell her what had been going on in his life. Her heart sank. Both she and Jonathan were fairly certain that Clark was suffering from depression, and it seemed like every time he started to get back to being some semblance of his usual self, something would happen and he'd be back to square one again.

She busied herself greeting her son and making tea. Trying to keep her question as casual as she could, she asked “So. How's Metropolis?”

“I haven't been to Metropolis.” He sounded genuinely puzzled.

“But you have seen Lois” Martha persisted, putting the teapot and cups down on the table. It was a given. Every time he saw her, he'd turn up at the farmhouse quiet and sad, looking like he had when he'd come to tell them he was moving to France.

She knew better than to suggest he stop visiting Metropolis, however. He couldn't just ignore emergencies from a city of 12 million people. The problem was, where emergencies were in Metropolis, Lois Lane usually was also.

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “She's in Paris. On assignment.”

“You been working with her, son?” The question came from Jonathan.

“Yeah. You remember the artworks I found in that vault? They've been going missing. I found the story and asked Perry for help, and he sent Lois.”

“Did he have to send Lois?” Martha asked, unable to keep the edge out of her voice.

“The original story was hers. And besides, I thought you liked Lois.”

“I do like Lois. I just don't like the way she treated you.”

“Mom. We've been through this. Lois can't help the way she feels any more than I can.”

Privately, Martha didn't think that was the problem. She'd long believed that Lois loved Clark just as much as he loved her, she just either didn't know it or was hiding it for some reason only known to Lois herself. While she had some sympathy for Lois' muddled feelings, it was hurting her boy and her patience was wearing thin.

“When do you go to Vienna?” Jonathan asked after a quelling look at Martha.

“Tomorrow night.” He drank some of his tea. “Anyway, there's something I need to talk to you about.” He sounded serious. Martha quickly pushed aside her concern for Clark's love life issues. When he didn't continue, she prompted him gently.

“Clark?”

He ran his hand through his hair again, sure sign of internal distress.

“Lois knows. About me. About Superman.”

Martha stared at Clark in a mixture of horror and disbelief.

“Did –“

He cut her off.

“Did I tell her? No. She figured it out.”

“How long has she known, son?” Jonathan asked.

“Since right after I left Metropolis.”

Martha heaved a silent sigh of relief. “Well, then you're safe.” She took a sip of her tea. “If she's known for so long and hasn't said anything before, I doubt she'd say anything now. This isn't really a bad thing.”

“You're right Mom, it's not. I would've told her eventually anyway, if -” Clark cut himself off this time, continuing in a more subdued tone. “I would have told her anyway.” He fell silent, staring reflectively into his mug.

Bridging the awkward gap, Martha asked “So how's working with her again?”

Clark's head came up and for once there was a spark of his normal self in his eyes. “It's great. It's been so long, but we still work really well together. It's like all the fights before I left never happened. I wish I could stick around to finish the story.”

“You miss it, don't you?”

“Yeah Dad, I do. Being a foreign correspondent is –fine but -”

“But it's not what you want to do.” Martha finished for him.

“Yeah.”

Giving Jonathan a look, Martha went over to the sink, making sure Jonathan followed her, and busied herself washing dishes – giving Clark some much needed space.

* * * * *

The dishes done, Jonathan went looking for Clark and found him on the porch, leaning on the rail and staring unseeing out at the barn.

He turned at Jonathan's approach.

“Mom send you?”

“She's just worried, Clark. We both are.”

“Yeah. I know, Dad.”

He fell silent again. Jonathan let the silence stand for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“So. Lois is in Paris. What are you going to do, Clark?”

“I don't know, Dad. I just don't know.”

Last edited by NostalgiaKick; 06/13/15 11:26 PM. Reason: Fixing typos

"It means never having to play it cool about how much you like something. It's basically a license to proudly emote on a somewhat childish level rather than behave like a supposed adult. Being a geek is extremely liberating."- Simon Pegg