"You still have to tell me your secret, you know. I hardly ever hear you
talk about the gym; when do you go?" she pressed, smiling.

He grinned back at her. "Who needs a gym? Keeping up with you is exercise enough."

"I love being married," he smiled. "And with Lois, it's *always* unpredictable."
"But tell me," Ralph said, lowering his voice. "If one of these hot babes gave you an invitation, you'd turn her down?"
"Yep."
"That's it? Just 'yep'? You wouldn't even *consider* it?"
"That's it. I mean there was this tall, green-eyed redhead who approached me, and --"
Ralph sat up. "Yeah...and!"
"And she was very attractive, but I wasn't interested."
"Oh, please."
Clark shook his head. "Ralph, she didn't even proposition me. She was just trying to hype some strip club she works at called Slow Joe's."
"Assuming such a place exists, which I doubt, since I've never heard of it, you're saying that if she came on to you, you'd turn her down cold?"
Clark sighed. He realized that he would never convince Ralph of his loyalty and fidelity to Lois. "Let's just say I come from a genetically faithful line of men."
"Shyeah, right." Ralph slumped back onto his bed.
"What planet are they from?"
"You'd be surprised," Clark laughed.

To: ClarkKent@dailyplanet.com
From: LoisLane@dailyplanet.com
Date: Friday, 21 October 1994, 02:42
Subject: waht you misssed

Daer Lark,

Iam ritng you this mail becuase youare gone awy. y9oui shouldnolt have gone. Iwant you hear. We arehaveing much fun at the abar. I want morefun withy yui. youia re looking verty good in black. Imso glad you wroe the lblakc. I dont know why yuo went awy. We wer have fun. If youare here we cound have more ufn. I amelonving you lots. You arewonederful. weare sogood together. Whd dont yo9u want to love me? we could have a goodnight bt u you wnt away. I wanted to love with you. we arelove. is good. isbadto goaway. you do love me? we had a good kiss. so yes love? Comedback rightnow. If you cme back we cold have good night togehte. hapily ever after, if you arehere. yay! comeback qyuick!!

love
lois

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

"Lois..."

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

"Lois..."

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

"Lois..."

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

"I'm just waiting to hear the red hot part where you confess, you know, that you like him a `small amount,'" he growled.

"We can't all have the ultimate reunion sex fantasy like you do, Clark. The first thing you'll do is grab her and throw her down and reintroduce her to wonders of loving from Superman."

"I was a *virgin* for thirty years, Lane!" he defended himself. "Thirty years! It's not possible to go that long before.before.well.you know.and not think about it sometimes.what? Stop it! I'm not kidding, Lane. Get up! There will be no falling down laughing at Superman's expense." He lunged for her, picking her up high overhead. "I'm kicking you out,woman. I don't need this." He marched across the room and threw the back door open with one hand, making as if to toss her into the garden.

"Great," he replied, lifting one of the larger shells for closer inspection. "Nice collection," he ventured, a question in his voice.

He knew her too well. Knew what the shells meant. Not decorations and not keepsakes. But rather, small testimonies to her state of mind. That she was going stir crazy, trying to kill the time.

"Thanks," she responded too cheerfully. "I'm finished, though. They'll overrun the house."

"It's a lot of house," he answered, still with his back to her. "I think it would take you a while to fill it up."

"We've only used the kitchen and the bedroom," she teased. "Are you suggesting we...move on to a different room? Do some exploring?"

"I want to see them."

"The rooms?"

"The newspapers, Lois." He turned towards her now, meeting her eyes.

"Lois," he said quietly, "this is what it's going to be like. Sometimes I have to leave in the middle of the night. But I'll always come back." He handed her the orchid. "Always, Lois."

She looked at it. "It's beautiful."

"Aren't you going to take it?"

"No."

He sensed her dilemma; the bundle of clothing she was clutching to the front of her body wasn't leaving a whole lot to his imagination. He grinned. "Why not?"

"You could just maybe put it in a vase for me."

"I could." But he didn't move.

"Clark!"

His eyes lit up, and then he spun, whirling in front of her, his features an indistinguishable blur; then he was still, the costume lying in a careless heap beside him on the floor. He stood in front of her, naked, his dark eyes serious, promising her everything. He handed her the orchid. "I love you, Lois Lane."

"He works at the Planet, and we met a while ago when he first started working there," she told him slowly, hoping he'd pick up the hints she was dropping. "It's just taken me this long to realize how right we are for each other, and how perfect we'd be together. So, thanks to you, I made up my mind to just come right out and tell him how I feel about him."

"Yeah, thanks to me," Clark repeated, the sarcasm in his tone unmistakable. He sighed and again ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I guess I probably know him, if he works at the Planet. Who is it?" He paused. But then realization suddenly seemed to dawn in his mind, and a repulsed look crossed his face. "It's not Jimmy, is it?"

Besides, he needed something to explain why it had taken
him so long to get back from her apartment. He shook his
head slightly. It had been so quiet for the past couple of
weeks. Why was it that everyone needed his help today? He
figured he could give the jogging excuse for where he'd
been when Perry first arrived. But this second delay
required something with a little more... finesse. Chocolate
seemed to fit the bill.

He arrived at the top of the steps and opened the door.

"I'm home," he said looking around the apartment. He
furrowed his eyebrows when he realized all the lights were
off. The room was, instead, lit only by dozens of candles.
He heard soft music in the background.

"Are you alone?" asked a voice from the bedroom.

Perry held up his hand. "Clark, Lois is nuts about you. Everyone here can see that. As far as Superman goes, she's just like every other woman in Metropolis now...she just likes to get a look." Perry dropped his eyes, grinned, and leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, "Hell, even my Alice wonders just what's under that suit every once in a while!"
Clark's face felt like it was turning all the shades of the rainbow. Here was a fact he could have lived without knowing.

At first I was afraid, I was...petrified..." said Lois Lane as the taxi pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment.
"Oh, no," said Clark Kent, leaning across her lap to pull the handle of the car door.
"SO NOW GO!! Walk out the door!" sang Lois, resting her head against the back of the seat with her eyes closed, making no moves to get out of the cab. "Just turn around now...'cause you're not welcome any more!" Clark shook his head once as he paid the driver.
"Something you did, man? Sounds personal." The driver looked at him with a droll expression that didn't quite fit on his dour face.
"Let's hope not," Clark said as he pushed Lois out onto the sidewalk. "Whoops!" He caught her as she stumbled slightly over the curb.
"Did ya think I'd crumble? Did ya think I'd lay down and die?" Lois sang woozily, jabbing his shoulder with an accusing finger as he set her back on her feet.
" 'Laying down...that sounds like a really good idea, Lois." When she stumbled again at the front steps, Clark bent down and slipped off her black satin pumps,
"AND SO YOU'RE BACK...FROM OUTER SPACE!!" As he straightened, her shoes dangling by the heels from two of his fingers, Lois let go of his shoulders which she had been using for balance and answered him in something approaching a bellow.
Clark winced. "Shhhhh...I know it's Saturday, but have some pity on your neighbors."
"I JUST WALKED IN TO FIND YOU HERE WITH THAT OL' LOOK UPON YOUR FACE!!"
As they reached the front door, Clark stopped to clamp his hand across her mouth for a moment. "No more singing, okay?" Lois blinked and then nodded, her brown eyes huge above his hand. She giggled as he removed it.
"Take me flying!" she said suddenly throwing her arms around his neck, lifting one black stockinged foot behind her and pointing her toe.
Clark gave a small laugh. "Not tonight, Lois. I have a headache."[...]"Very funny." As the elevator doors opened on the fifth floor, he turned her around by the shoulders and prodded her forward.
"I SHOULD'VE CHANGED THAT SCHTUPID LOCK......!!"
"Lois, you know I love you...but the next time your friends decide to treat you to a night out on the town for your birthday, either make sure it's not disco night at the club or find yourself another date."
"I SHOULD'VE MADE Y'LEAVE YOUR KEEEEEEEY!!"
"That song came out when you were what...about twelve? Doesn't it scare you that you know all the words?
"IF I'D HAVE KNOWN FOR JUSS ONE SECOND YOU'D BE BACK TO BOTHER MEEEEE!!
"Could we go back to 'YMCA'? I guess I really didn't appreciate it the first three times around." They reached number 501 and Clark opened her purse, taking out the keys. As he found the right ones and slid the first into the top lock, Lois ducked under his arm and pressed up against him, blocking his view of the door.
"OH NO, NOT I!!" she announced.
"I know, I know. 'You will survive.' Hold still." Clark peered over her shoulder and opened the second lock. She slid her arms around his neck.
"You look very handsome tonight," said Lois in a sudden switch, her voice throaty, running her hands down the lapels of his jacket.
"Thank you." Clark did his best to sound unimpressed.
[...]
"Clark?" Her voice was small, muffled.
"Yeah?"
"Turn the beat around...."
Clark opened the door and fairly shoved her through it. "That's it!! Inside!"

"He kept asking *me* questions too, as if I could help. What could I do, I'm no use to anyone, I'm just some jerk who doesn't know who he is. I'm so tired of it all, I just want to lie down and sleep - maybe if I sleep long enough, I'll wake up normal again. Maybe this is all a very bad dream - no, I tried that before when she told me I was an alien..."

Martha was relieved that he'd finally relinquished control over his pent-up emotions, but alarmed at the same time at what she was hearing - this wasn't *her* Clark giving vent to his feelings. She got up and grabbed his arms, stopping him in mid-pace.

"Honey, this 'she' is your wife. Don't you dare talk about her as if she were a stranger."

"But that's just it. She *is* a stranger. You all are."

Impulse took over; perhaps this would answer her doubts and questions. "I think..." she continued hesitantly. "I think I want you to kiss me."

There was a shocked pause when everything - even the gusts of wind outside - came to a screeching halt. Finally, a squeaky voice resembling Clark's filled the silence. "I'm sorry, you want me to *what*?"

Well, obviously he hadn't been expecting her to say that, but hey, she hadn't totally expected it herself. The words had just seemed to... come out, and she hadn't been able to stop them. The look on Clark's face was priceless, though; his mouth was open slightly and his eyes were wide, looking at her as if she had suddenly asked him to fly into outer space and return with a piece of the moon.

(what is a Gorn? [Goofy] )

"Clark, I do *not* want to grope your ch - *what* have you got on under your shirt? It's all shiny and..." She trailed off. To his satisfaction, she was looking slack-jawed. Thunderstruck, in fact.

"That's... Superman's suit, isn't it?"

"It is." He waited.

"Why are you...?" She halted. Swallowed. Blinked several times. Then, in a strangled voice, continued. "Clark, tell me you're not Superman."

"Sorry, Lois, I can't do that." With the note of amusement that had crept into his voice, he heard himself sound exactly like Superman.

"Clark, what on Earth is that smell?" Lois's voice asked from the direction of the living room.

"Um -- sour milk, I think," he answered. "Or maybe it's the chicken sub gum. I'm not sure. Didn't Huong's Chinese Garden go out of business last year?"

"Yeah. They put a country Italian restaurant in its place.
Why?"

"I just threw out their special. The coffee's ready.

I see nothing wrong with gushing a little over a favourite story, Alcyone. I like to think of this thread as a tribute as well as a game.

Even here unfinished tales are stellar, I would be first unto a petition list for their completion.

I consider the Gorn to be my greatest find at Anne's place. Possible because of the alias(what is a Gorn? )

Klinger’s Accidential Husband is the story I can never seem to track down for some reason I always think it’s one of Wendy’s..

He shifted on the hard wooden chair, looked around the sparsely
furnished room and quietly rattled off the names of the items.

"Chair... table... mirror..."

The swell of frustration caused the knot in his stomach to coil
tighter and his hands to clench on the grimy tabletop. He *knew*
what a chair was...

"Lois, was I - I mean, before, did I..." he paused and then sighed. "Did I have a lot of...girlfriends? Before?"

Lois blinked, taken aback by the question. "Uh...well...not that I ever noticed," she confessed.

The answer seemed to dismay Clark even more. His face slumped. "I wasn't...overly religious. Was I?"

"Not that you ever said." She was watching him steadily now. She moved to sit down beside him, reaching out to put a hand against his knee. Given the nature of the turbulent thoughts rolling chaotically through his head, it was a touch too intimate by far for Clark. He jerked sharply, wincing, and focused on her abruptly from the distance his thoughts had taken him to, looking suddenly like a startled bear.

"Clark, what's wrong?" Lois said, growing worried now.

"Nothing!" He pasted a wide and, he suspected, completely unconvincing, smile on his face. "Nothing." He put his hand over hers and patted it soothingly. Lois glanced down at the movement, paternal in nature, and then back up to his face with a quirked brow. Clark withdrew his hand, awkwardly. And then, suddenly, as he looked into her face, like a ray of sunlight breaching through heavy cloud, he found a single moment of clarity among his confused thoughts. And, for perhaps one of the very few times in his life - he seemed to instinctively understand - he said something without thinking about it first, without weighing the consequences or wondering if it was right. Maybe it was just the night for it.

"You just thank your lucky stars that you're a man, not a woman!" she told him. "I mean, you guys really have it easy. All you need is a couple of different suits, about a dozen shirts and a selection of ties. Nobody bats an eyelid if you wear the same suit all week. Nobody cares if you only have one pair of shoes. Most of the time you could get away with wearing discount shirts, or even a shirt that doesn't fit perfectly. Your suits can be as boring as you want - the colour barely matters.
While we women... heaven help us if we wear the same outfit to work twice in one week! We sometimes even get smart comments if we wear the same thing two weeks running!
And as for colours... we get called boring if we wear dull colours, and accused of trying to be noticed if we wear something brighter.
And as for what we have to pay for these outfits... I *wish* I could get a decent work suit for the price you're paying for these suits!"

She came to an abrupt halt, breathing heavily.

Clark blinked. "Um... okay, maybe I will get another suit while I'm here," he said mildly.

Lois paused as if considering the possibility. "You know, I've heard Dan's still available," she finally said.

"Scardino?" Clark gasped.

Lois nodded. "Maybe you'd like me to give him a call. He asked me to marry him, you know," she added. If he was really going to stick to this outrageous idea, she was determined that he not be able to hide behind platitudes. She was determined to make him understand exactly what he was suggesting.

"He asked you to marry him?" Clark asked. This was the first he was hearing of this.

Lois nodded. "When I told him I couldn't see him any more. I wonder if he'd be interested," she mused.

Clark felt his stomach clench into a tight ball. It was hard enough thinking about Lois with another man in abstract terms, but to have her put a name and face on that man was almost too much to bear. Why was she tormenting him like this? He had despised Scardino when he'd pursued Lois years ago. The thought of her in a relationship with Scardino, the thought of Scardino raising his child, was agonizing torture.

"Lois, don't please," he pleaded.

"Your Highness," said Sir Mordred, his tone noticeably more deferential towards Lois than it had been a few minutes previously, "that still doesn't explain why the King assumed Sir Lancelot's guise and returned to Camelot."

"Are you going to let me finish, or not??" said Lois crankily. Clark
grinned openly. "While in Caer Wyn, the King discovered that the dispute he had gone there to settle was fake." Lois paused and noted with satisfaction that Mordred looked distinctly taken aback.

Behind her, Clark was gazing up at Lois with a gleam of admiration. So she, too, had discovered that the dispute was bogus! He had found that out himself, but he wouldn't have dreamed it possible that Lois could have done so, too.

He could see that he had vastly underrated her. He was going to have to appoint her as chief investigator for the Court. That is, he reminded himself glumly, if she was still speaking to him when this was all over.

I know you can't search the quote- that'd be cheating.

Lois paused as if considering the possibility. "You know, I've heard Dan's still available," she finally said.

"Scardino?" Clark gasped.

Lois nodded. "Maybe you'd like me to give him a call. He asked me to marry him, you know," she added. If he was really going to stick to this outrageous idea, she was determined that he not be able to hide behind platitudes. She was determined to make him understand exactly what he was suggesting.

"He asked you to marry him?" Clark asked. This was the first he was hearing of this.

Lois nodded. "When I told him I couldn't see him any more. I wonder if he'd be interested," she mused.

Clark felt his stomach clench into a tight ball. It was hard enough thinking about Lois with another man in abstract terms, but to have her put a name and face on that man was almost too much to bear. Why was she tormenting him like this? He had despised Scardino when he'd pursued Lois years ago. The thought of her in a relationship with Scardino, the thought of Scardino raising his child, was agonizing torture.

"Lois, don't please," he pleaded.

When I can read stuff like this for free I wonder why people buy books.

"Clark, wait, we need to talk," she pleaded with him.

"There's nothing to talk about!" he snapped, turning toward
the door. He needed to make her hate him. He needed her
to realize that she ought to despise him. He deserved no
better.

"Please," she cried out. He could hear the emotion in her
voice. She was near tears. He hardened his heart to her
pleas and walked away.

The rain was cascading down sheets and he didn't care. It
pounded loudly on the concrete and asphalt and the distant
rumble of thunder added to the deafening cacophony. The
drops on his glasses obscured his vision. He took the
glasses off and snapped them in half effortlessly. Clark
tossed the broken halves out into the darkness, not caring
where they landed. He heard them clatter somewhere in the
distance.

Frustrated, he ran his hand through his dripping wet hair
and screamed out loud, sobbing. The click of the door
behind him startled him. Clark silently prayed that she
would just go away and leave him alone. He didn't want to
have to see her right now.

"Clark, please, look at me," she said quietly.

"The difference between you and Superman."

Clark's face dropped. He felt like his heart stopped. She
couldn't mean... "What... um.. what..."

"...what is the difference between you and Superman. I know.
Odd question. I mean, aside from the obvious. He's Superman.
He saves the world. You're Clark Kent. You put up with me. I'm
not sure which one involves more courage. But that's not the
point. Clark, I went on a date with Superman tonight! That was
a dream come true! HE... was a dream come true. And all I could
think about was you. Do you know why? Of course you don't know
why, you weren't in my head. Well here's the thing. Superman is
a dream come true."

"I caught that part," Clark teased.

"You, Clark... you're the man who makes my dreams come true."

Lois got only two steps inside the door before the compulsion to turn for one last look got the better of her. There were dozens of people outside, all hurrying or good- byeing, but she could see only Clark.

Unaware of her regard, and uncaring what others might think, he'd allowed all that he'd been feeling to surface. It wasn't that he was openly weeping or anything like that, it ... it was just that she, who knew him so well now, could tell by his movements -- by the way he held and carried himself -- the depth of his distress. She was leaving him more alone than when she'd found him, and she just couldn't bear it.

Out of the door and running towards him before her head could talk some sense into her heart, she called to him, saw him turn, watched his face change in a flash from concern to confusion to wonder to joy and then she was in his arms.

She kissed him, and tried to tell him at the same time, "I do love you, Clark. I really do." She held him to her tightly, and laid her head against his chest. "I wanted you to know ... before I left, because ... because I know that if there's one thing in this whole world I can count on, it's the way you feel about me."

She felt his arms tighten around her and was aware that he'd laid his cheek against her hair. She was talking too fast for him to have had a chance to say anything, but his body was communicating volumes: his pounding heart, his quickened breathing, the way his hand caressed her head, all told her of his excitement, his happiness, and his love.

With his arms full of Lois and his heart full of joy, Clark could hardly believe this sudden, electrifying turn of events. Before he could properly assimilate what was happening she was telling him, "I have to go. If only we had more time." She lifted her head from his chest and looked at him with an expression so full of love that it robbed him of what little breath he had left. She took his face in her hands and kissed him, passionately ... possessively, embraced him again and whispered fiercely, "I love you," one more time, and then ... she was gone.

Edit: Hard? The author was nominated multiple times in the latest Kerth awards. This is one of her earlier stories.

Originally posted by LabRat:
<strong> </font><blockquote><font size="1" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">quote:</font><hr /><font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Edit: Hard? The author was nominated multiple times in the latest Kerth awards. This is one of her earlier stories.

I don't know about anyone else, but for me it's less about it being hard to identify the stories as that I don't have time right now to go look out another quote if I post the correct answer!

She wasn't going back to the airport?!

Lois noticed Clark's dumbfounded look and spoke up. "You don't mind an uninvited guest, do you Clark?"

Clark could only shake his head. Did this mean what he thought ... hoped ... it meant?

"You see, Clark," she told him, just a little too reasonably, "there wasn't another flight to Metropolis available until Monday. Isn't that incredible?"

Lois was looking at him with a provocative little smile that drew a responding grin from him. "Unbelievable, actually."

She wrinkled her nose at him, which made his eyes light up. "Hey, it could happen!" she exclaimed defensively. "Anyway," she resumed her poor-orphan-unfairly-cast-upon-the- cruel-world act, "I didn't know *what* I was going to do. I mean, I'd already checked out of my hotel."

For someone who was new at this teasing game, Clark reflected, Lois had sure caught on fast. She must be a very quick study. But, good performance or not, he couldn't let her score all the points, so he put a sympathetic expression on his face and said in his most helpful tone of voice, "Well, you've come to the right place, Lois. I'd be happy to help you find another hotel."

Perry gave a brief burst of laughter, but it wasn't heeded by the other two who were fairly joined in their game, spurred on by their excitement at the unlooked-for prospect of extra days spent in each others' company.

She appeared to ignore his offer. "Besides, I'm just *exhausted* after the convention and Diane's snoring. What I think I need are a few days in the country."

"I didn't know you knew anyone who lives in the country, Lois."

"I thought maybe I could stay at ... I don't know, a farm maybe ...?" She glanced up at him through her lashes, but all the response she got was a grin and one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

"I think a farm would be just what the doctor ordered," she reiterated. "Peace and quiet -- "

"Roosters," Clark supplied helpfully. "And crickets -- really loud ones, and tractors. Let's not forget the tractors ..."

"Plenty of fresh air, great views," Lois continued, unheeding.

"Breakfast at dawn. Supper at 6. In bed by 8."

"Relaxation."

"Chores. Lots of 'em."

Lois opened her mouth to counter, but Perry jumped in first. "I think I'll leave you two to work this out," he interjected with a grin and a wave.

Perry wagged his finger gently from side to side. "Don't ask. When you have as much experience under your belt as I do mine, you'll realize that you just know things that other people don't want you to know, and you know when to use them and you know when to keep your peace. Now, I want you to get all the experience you can get because you're a good reporter and I'm making you a better one. I want you to out Murrow Murrow. And if I can help you get that experience by signing a waiver for you, I'll do it. But news of this does not go beyond these walls."

"No, sir..."

"Or everyone else will want one, too."

"Yes, sir."

"And you'll have to start wearing saffron robes and shave your head."

"That's a possibility I hadn't though of..."

"You didn't have time to think of it, I understand that. Everyone's taken by surprise now and then."

Mostly now, Clark thought. "Yes, sir."

"Of course, if I do find out that you're flying around high on drugs, I'll tan your little blue hide and hang it on that wall over there."

For the next half hour, he thought to himself, sometimes muttering, “I’ve had a pissing contest with Superman, and didn’t even know it! Wait a minute; I thought he was supposed to be above that kind of thing . . .”

"Leave him. We need to scram." Capone, Dillinger, Bonnie and Clyde quickly disappeared through the door.

Lois was knocked back onto her backside when Clark fell. She crawled on her knees to his side. His face was turned so his cheek was lying on the cold, concrete floor. His eyes held a light of shock and sheer pain.

"Clark? Clark, answer me." She reached to lift his head into her lap.

"Lois, no!. Don't move me." He struggled to breathe through his pain.

Lois pushed his hair back out of his face. Clark was sweating and his jacket was becoming soaked with blood. "What can I do?"

"Just... stay close."

"I will. I will." She looked up with pleading eyes. "Someone call an ambulance." As her eyes fell back to her partner, her tears began to spill down her cheeks. "Clark, please don't close your eyes. Stay with me."

"It... hurts... so much."

She glanced up, noticing the lights of the city all around her. Downtown was beautiful at this time of night. She made her way slowly down the carpet, escorted by the driver, to the glass doors that led to the foyer of the Merriota Building. The Planet had spared no expense in making sure the evening was first-rate. She stopped by the doors to greet a few of her colleagues, who were also arriving, before making her way into the building.

And then she saw him.

He stood across the room from her, a crowd of people surrounding him, laughing and hugging their returned colleague. For a moment, she
couldn't breathe; the force of his presence in the dimly lit foyer was that strong.

Clark was here.

She'd spent the entire weekend convincing herself that he wouldn't be here tonight, all the while secretly hoping that he would prove her wrong. And now that he had, Lois wasn't sure she was prepared for this at all. She bit her lip, amazed at how strong the urge was to run to him and throw herself in his arms.

What should he do? Should he hug them? The other Martha Kent had hugged him, and *he* had hugged Jonathan, who hadn't seemed to mind, and--oh, yes, Jonathan had hugged him once, too, when he left. A smile touched his eyes at the memory. He hadn't known how to take it at the time, but on the whole, he had decided later that he liked it.

So this was the question: should he hug them? Martha--Mom! ...probably. Dad ... maybe. First he would--

"Clark."

Clark spun around, his eyes glowing in anticipation. One look at Lois's expression and his face fell. "They don't want to see me, do they?" he said quickly, trying not to heed the painful tightening in his chest. "Okay, we'll go home now ...." he picked up Lois and rose swiftly into the air.

A hand caught the zipper of her jacket and yanked it down. She squirmed involuntarily, and the blade pressed tighter against her skin. "Don't." Again the whisper. "Behave, and I might just let you go ... later." The hand seized the front of her blouse and yanked. She gasped as the buttons gave and the frigid air contacted her skin. This was it, she knew. If she didn't get away, she would be lucky to escape with only a rape and a beating.

A gust of air swirled about her and suddenly he was there; a tall, caped figure in the darkness, who had disarmed her assailant so swiftly that she hadn't been aware of it until it was over. With one hand, he casually held the rapist's wrists behind his back as he turned to her, and his voice was soft and concerned.

The idea that his presence was making her unhappy was unbearable for Clark. He didn't understand how it had happened, but somehow, over the last week, she must have fallen out of love with him. Before last week, they couldn't get enough of each other and there weren't enough hours in the day for all the things they wanted to say and do. But since then she'd been moody and distracted, and just wanted to be alone.

Despite himself, Clark found himself swiping at his eyes with his free hand. Darn it, he was not going to cry. If she didn't love him anymore, he would take it like a man. If she no longer wanted to be with him, well, he would let her go. He would simply start over somewhere else, the way he'd done a dozen times before he'd come to Metropolis. He'd be just fine ...

Clark took a shaky breath. Who was he kidding? His heart would shatter into a million pieces and he would never be the same again.

"I can't leave you here," she said, even as a tear found a path down her cheek.

"You have to. Lois, listen to me. That's my baby you're carrying. It's my choice. I want you to save my child."

Lois looked at him in stunned silence. He wished he could explain. He wanted to explain, but there wasn't time.

"Trust me, Lois. Just go," he finally said. "Tell my parents about the baby. They'll explain everything." At
least his parents could make sure that she knew what she needed to know. "Just let him know I loved him. I would have been there for him if I could." The last words were barely a whisper.

"I'm not exactly sure how to say this," she said in all
honesty as she studied her hands. There was no way to tell
him this without sounding like a tramp. "I don't know if
this is your child," she whispered.

"This is my child, Lois," Clark said, his absolute
conviction coming through on every word.

She let out a slow breath. "I know you believe that, but
even I..." She emphasized the word. "...don't know if this
is your child. It could be, but... Please, just let me say
this," she said when he looked as if he was about to
interrupt. "I've only been with two men in my life," she
began. "You and Claude."

"The man you're involved with," Clark said.

"Was," Lois corrected. He looked confused so she continued.
"I sort of lied about that. I haven't been with Claude
since you and I..." She looked down again. "I just couldn't
stand the thought of him touching me after you..." Her
voice trailed off and she began nibbling on her lower lip.
She hadn't meant to tell him quite that much.

"Why didn't you tell me all this when I asked about the
baby's paternity?" he asked.

"I didn't think you'd want the complication of being a
father - given the way you obviously feel about me."

The bus had been half empty when he'd got on, yet he'd chosen to
sit right next to her. She'd been looking out the window at the
time, just like she was now, and had flinched when she'd felt him
thump down heavily beside her. She hadn't dared look at him, but
she knew this for a certainty: he hadn't needed to sit beside
her.

Which was why she knew he was after her.

She stared blindly out of the window, rigid with fear and totally
at a loss as to what to do. The bus reached her stop but she was
too scared to get up and push past him. She didn't want him to
know where she was going. He'd follow her. Walk into the clinic
behind her and then find a way to hide until she was alone.

"Lois, I'm Superman."

"Nice driving." He reached down to retrieve her purse from the floorboard.

"I got the space, didn't I?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Congratulations, Lois. You win again."

"The meek may inherit the Earth, Clark, but they do *not* get parking spaces in this part of town."

He handed her the purse. "I'll keep it in mind."

Lois laughed at him. "You're a farm boy! You're not supposed to get grossed out by the miracle of life."

"It's a *wheat* farm, Lois. There are no bodily fluids involved in growing wheat. And I'm only grossed out by the miracle of life when it happens directly on top of my clothing."

"Aunt Opal, I'm here!" Clark called as he entered the hall of the townhouse. The walk from the Planet had been nice, if necessarily quiet; they had conversed only briefly, when no one had been close enough to think that Clark was talking to himself. He still wasn't quite sure what impulse had prompted him to invite Lois along to dinner; she would inevitably be relegated to invisible third-wheel status, which couldn't be much fun for her. He'd just hated the idea of her stuck in an empty apartment all evening ... besides, when she was around, he knew for certain that he wasn't crazy.

"I'm in the kitchen," Aunt Opal replied. "How was your day?"

Feeling awkward, Clark turned to where he estimated Lois to be, and gestured gallantly towards the kitchen.

"Relax, Clark," she told him with a hint of amusement in her voice. "You don't need to open doors for me; I can manage perfectly well. Anyway, you don't want to look like Jimmy Stewart in 'Harvey;' he was committed."

Clark grinned at the mention of the classic movie. "You're hardly a six-foot tall invisible rabbit."

"Or so you assume," she pointed out, laughing. "I'm just saying, don't make yourself look crazy on my account -- I'll be fine."

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "but I just couldn't let this
go on any longer. It isn't real, Lois... and I don't think
I can pretend any differently."

If anything, the confusion in her eyes tripled. "Not
real... It felt pretty real to me, Clark," she teased
half-heartedly, trying to break the sudden tension between
them, but there was a look of desperation in her eyes.

He sighed and closed his eyes. This wasn't supposed to
hurt!

"You're a dream, Lois!" he blurted out at last. "You
aren't real!"

She stared at him in utter and total shock, and then, to
his own surprise, she disappeared entirely.

His eyes traced the smooth, swan's curve of her throat and the way that the
small, fragile latticework of the earrings she wore cast reflections of light
against her skin from where they dangled and glittered against her neck. How
strands of dark, gleaming hair escaped her sleek, shoulder-length bob to brush
against her skin. He imagined his fingers trailing that same path, running
their tips softly along the pulse line he could see beating steadily just
below the cradle of her jaw. Considered what it would feel like to brush the
back of one hand to follow the line up onto her cheek and explore its gentle
curves and sharp angles before he slipped his fingers into the dark mass
framing her face. And her eyes...those dark, glorious, peat-colored eyes...

...which were studying him curiously.

"What?" Lois demanded. She darted a frantic look into the mirror, sure she
must have missed something horrendous given the intent study he was making of
her face and came back to him, with a frown, when she found nothing obvious.
"What?!"

"Uh, nothing."

She could conjure up every expression that had ever been in that deep, sensitive, chocolate brown gaze. How they warmed to the color of mocha when he smiled at her. Deepened to glow with amber and mahogany when they shared a quiet moment, late in the newsroom, working on their notes or debating the course of their next story, excitement burning in them like fire, matching her own. In anger they were dark chips of obsidian, but that was an emotion rare to him as ice was in sunlight.

"I thought where that got us was pretty good,"[…]
Then she turned around. Her eyes flayed him, huge and dark from out of a pale face, and brimming with something dark and indefinable.
"Yeah, well... sometimes what you think is good is just...lies and trouble. And..." she drew in a rough breath, "...sometimes what you think you want isn't what you need. What's good isn't always good for *you*."

She didn't want to be alone.

The thought echoed, a pitiful whimper in her head.

/Okay, fine, Lois!/ her scornful self prodded at her after a moment's silence.
/So, you don't want to be alone. Great! So now what? You go running back to
Clark and beg him to forgive you? Lay yourself at his feet? Beg him to take
you back no matter what? Can you live with that? Is it a price enough to pay
for not being alone? Because he would take you back, you know he would. What
man wouldn't? His own personal little geisha who'll forgive him anything, so
long as he throws her the odd scrap or two of affection now and then. What man
could really pass on an offer like that?/

Lois snuffled, trying to block out that persistent harpy as it jabbed at her,
flaying her...and to her dismay she succeeded. Because the plain truth of it
was that, despite all logic, despite her own self-disgust at her weakness, she
missed Clark so badly - as partner, friend *and* lover - that it made her want
to scream and rail and weep herself into a blind fury of longing.

She watched, her heart wrenching as a single tear came trailingdown his cheek. The hope and desperation in his eyes were almost too much. Hot, wet tears slipped loose from her own eyes, causing her to see sparkles around him.

So there it is girl, I've said it all now
And here we are babe, what do you say?

They had stopped dancing. Clark was pulling her closer and she wasn't resisting. The world condensed down to just the two of them and the song, speaking to both of their hearts.

We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?
We've got tonight babe
Why don't you stay?

Lois grabbed him and hugged him close to her with all her strength. His hand came up to grasp her behind her head and he guided her lips to his. The passion between them could no longer be held back, and they sought each other's kiss with abandon.

I know it's late, I know you're weary
I know your plans don't include me
Still here we are, both of us lonely
Both of us lonely

Lois broke free from the kiss, her heart pounding in her ears, and her body shaking. "No...I can't. I--I have to go back."

We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?

"Lois, I lo--"

She put her hand over his lips, stopping him.

Let's make it last, lets find a way

"Shhhh.... Don't say anything, *please*," she pleaded.

And there he was. Staring back at her from the cover of the book. The dark eyes, that little curl of hair she suddenly so desired to brush back from his forehead, the sensational smile that shot straight to the heart. It was him, and it felt like he was looking right into the depths of her soul.

"Holy cow! A new 'Adventures In' book! 'Adventures In America,'" Jimmy read aloud.

Darline, the book critic for the paper, happened to be coming by at that time. "You have a copy of the new 'Adventures In America'?" She quickly made her way over to Lois' desk. "Oh my gosh! I don't believe it. I've been trying to get a hold of this for weeks now. The publishers kept telling me it hadn't gone to print yet. How in the world did you get this?"

Jimmy pointed to the box on the table. "It came in that box last Friday." He folded the flap with the return address back over so he could read it. "It's from a C. Kent."

"C. Kent? Clark Kent himself sent you," Darline pointed to Lois, "a copy of his new book?"

Lois, who had been spellbound by seeing Clark's face again, regained her composure at the sound of Darline's voice. "I...I guess so. We met last year."

"You've met Clark Kent?" Darline's voice kept getting higher and higher, not to mention louder.

"Cool!" Jimmy gave Lois a look of admiration.

Darline's voice had carried enough that a small knot of people had begun to build up around Lois' desk.

"Hey, open it up. Maybe he signed it," Jimmy suggested.

Lois quickly opened the book. After flipping past the first few pages she came to the dedication page.

For L.L.
Whenever I thought I couldn't do this anymore,
memories of our time together allowed me to go on.
Without you, this work would have remained locked
inside, hidden from the world. Your determination
and your faith in me gives it a life for all to
see and enjoy.

Directly below that in hand-written black ink was a note.


Lois,
Our memories are a precious thing, but our
friendship is priceless.

Missing you...
Yours,
Clark

"And Superman is really Clark Kent. I always knew they looked a little alike, but ... Oh my God! Does Lois know? I mean, she is married to him and everything! She must know, right? What if she doesn't know? Should we tell her?" He waved his hands in the air.

"Honestly, CK. I don't know how I'm going to be able to work with her," Jimmy complained. "She's driving me nuts. I ask her if she wants a coffee and she snarls at me. Then she gets me one, with a donut on the side. She brings me a pile of research that I didn't ask for and probably won't need but she said she got it special for me to make my job easier! Then when I don't use it, she's back to snarling at me! She's been doing this Jekyll and Hyde act since she got in this morning and I don't know how I'll be able to take it! I have no idea how she really feels about me."

Clark laughed. "Forget how she feels about you. How do you feel about her?"

"She's fascinating. She's got an incredible mind - and you know, that's not normally the first thing that catches my attention about a woman!" Jimmy grinned. "And she's kind of cute in a buttoned-down librarian kind of way! She makes me angry - but I like it!" Suddenly serious, he continued, "I really feel this strong connection between the two of us; it hit me like a ton of bricks the moment I saw her for the first time. I've never felt anything like it."

"Ooh, you've got it bad!" Clark teased. "How do you think I felt about Lois the first time I met her?" he asked.

"Oh no, I'm doomed!" Jimmy joked.

Any moment now, she'd find out what her partner considered appropriate clothing for an all-night stakeout. Would it be a bathrobe, loosely tied and showing half his chest, like the one Trevor had affected in that seedy motel near the airport, back when she'd been little more than a rookie? Or red silk boxers, like Arnie when they'd been investigating the hotel that had turned out to be little more than an upmarket bordello? A towel, like Jerry on the overnight ferry trip? Though at least Clark had the sort of body that looked good in just a towel, if her memory was correct...

Besides," she added, "I don't want him to propose to me."

"Neither do I," Clark said.

"He isn't likely to propose to *you*," Lois said. "You may be pretty, but I don't think he'd appreciate you the same way."

"I certainly *hope* not!" Clark said, shocked. He paused. "'Pretty'?"

"That's from my point of view, not Lex's," Lois said.

And am I very uncool for squealing when I realized my story had been quoted? Probably so

Edit: Hard? The author was nominated multiple times in the latest Kerth awards. This is one of her earlier stories.

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

"Pardon?" Lois didn't even bother looking up at the apparent non sequitur.

"I told you that, if you found the records, and if it became necessary for you to know where and when the ship landed, I would tell you."

That got her attention. Her head jerked up, and she stared at him, wide-eyed. "*What* did you say?"

"I said-"

"No. No, it's all right. I heard you the first time. I'm just... *You're* Superman? You?!"

Originally posted by Classicalla:

Quote

Edit: Hard? The author was nominated multiple times in the latest Kerth awards. This is one of her earlier stories.

It's probably because I'm sitting here reading this at 4 am, but which story is this talking about and which Kerth nominee? Thanks

Suddenly, on the screen, Clark glanced upward in a swinging arc. She gasped, for in doing so, he must have discovered the camera's existence. As if in a dream, he looked directly at her, the camera's eye her own as it recorded his face in a permanent magnetic code. The glare of the lights was absent, and through the frames she could see the eyes that haunted the few hours of sleep she managed each night. As sweet as the richest chocolate and more precious to her than anything on earth, the brown orbs stared back at her, lingering for the briefest pause. Then, a slow grin lifted the corners of his mouth, the sensuous lips parting to reveal a smile that lifted her for the smallest second out of the depth of her anguish and back into the light. Her heart pounded so painfully that she clutched her chest. As quickly as it happened, he looked downward again, turned and strode off the screen. The sunlight vanished, hidden once again by storm clouds heavy with salty raindrops.

Lois felt the blood running down her face. It stung her eyes when
she tried to open them. Her head was throbbing and she knew she
couldn't take much more of this. "You killed Danny Carter. How many
other people are you going to kill to play out your sick little
fantasy?"

"As many as it takes, Miss Lane. And don't worry. I'll make sure to
look suitably somber when I visit your father to pay my condolences
to him after the loss of his beloved daughter in a tragic car wreck."

She prepared herself for the impending attack but nothing happened.
She heard the echoes of retreating footsteps and the sound of a door
somewhere closing. How had she gotten into this mess? Where was
Perry? Where were Henderson and MPD?

"Clark, where are you?" she whispered, the words escaping in a sob.

“I like it when you make jokes.” He smiled back. “And I like it when you’re serious too. In case you were feeling like you were more fun to be around if you were joking.” Stop it. You’re doing it again. Saying too much. Bending over backwards. It makes her uncomfortable when you do that.

“I was just… you know – wondering about it – they both left together… do you think that they think something – you know – is going on between us… “ She blurted it out quickly, and then continued desperately trying to sound casual. “You know – because we came together?”

“Well – I think Perry knows that we’re good friends now.”

Good friends. Great. “So you don’t think – “

“Oh – well – No – Perry would know better, you know… “ He trailed off again. “I feel weird talking about this, so please excuse me if I sound like an idiot.”

She smiled. “I should say the same.”

“You don’t. You never do. Sound like an idiot.” Ok. Stop. Stop right now. Before she figures out you’re in love with her.

What kind of guy didn't have sex on his mind constantly?

Did he think she wasn't worth kissing?

The scowl was back. Her eyes narrowed on him.

Maybe he was gay.

Oh, Mrs. Mosley, you do know about that wonderful thing called the archive, don't you? (There's actually more than one.)

"Hey there, big boy? Watcha doin' in my neck of the woods?"
comes a sultry, feminine voice.

I glance across the room from me. There before me is the most
exquisite female form I've ever known. Wow! That body! So
well-formed, so... ample. Her coloring is unlike anything I've
ever seen before. I find myself gaping at her when she speaks
again.

"Um, did you hear me? I asked what you were doing here?" Oh,
that voice. It was is so alluring, so... seductive. Gah, what
is wrong with me? Get a grip!

"So, how many people did you save on the way over tonight?" Lois asked, the subject of Superman reminding her that her partner
was now masquerading as a hero. He blanched, a surprised expression coming across his face, coaxing a laugh out of her. She gestured toward his costume. "Zorro. The whole do-gooder thing suits you."

His expression softened, the smile coming back to his lips. "The alcalde decided to give the peons a break and take the day off," he said, slipping back into the Spanish accent. A mischievous twinkle glinted in his eyes. "I did, however, save a stranded motorist from the clutches of a bandit."

"Ooh," Lois said, acting suitably impressed, finally enjoying indulging a little fantasy. "My hero," she continued, the arm behind his back drawing him in a little closer.

Dear Lois, (she read)

I wanted to let you know as soon as I could that everything went fine and to thank you for all the things that you did for me, even for shoving me off that building.

I didn't want to be seen around the Daily Planet again for reasons that you will understand in a few days. I hoped you would be here when I came by, but since you weren't, this should tide you over until the stores open tomorrow. I brought it from my favorite takeout place in Shanghai.

You were right all along, you know. I couldn't stand to lose the important things in my life, and you were the most important. I realized that when you kissed me, and I guess in the end, that was what made me remember; I know that was when it happened, and it makes sense, at least to me. I remember everything, now, and I'll explain it all, or at least as much as I know, when I see you again.

I'll be busy for the next couple of days, tying up some loose ends, but I'll be seeing you very soon. I meant what I said back in Willow Rock. I hope you did, too.

Love,

Charlie

P.S. And I'm not married.

"What happened?" she demanded. The circumstances were pretty unbelievable. The fireball had hit and she had found a completely naked man sitting, apparently unhurt, in the very center of the crater.

"I...I don't know." He rubbed his face, smearing the soot more thoroughly across his features.

"Who are you?"

In the uncertain light of the fire, he looked more lost than ever. "I don't remember," he mumbled. His voice had begun to shake. "I...I don't know."

Something was very weird here. Still, she couldn't just leave the guy stranded almost naked in Centennial Park, in the middle of the night. He might be hurt more than it looked like. Didn't people die from internal injuries when they seemed perfectly fine? The least she could do would be to drop him off at the emergency room.

"Come with me," she commanded. "And don't try anything. I have a brown belt in karate."

He approached the door and jammed it into the crack between the door and the wall, working it, hopefully, between the lock and the stop. It stuck strangely, and for a long time the lock
didn't seem to want to move. Perhaps the laminate was too thin and flexible? It was definitely a lot more flexible than a credit card. He glared at his handiwork in consternation.

Well, what now? Maybe there was a way to make the material more stiff...

He didn't have time to debate further, however, because as he jiggled the laminate some more in frustration, the lock finally decided to give way, and the door popped back toward him. In
surprise, he lost his grip on the makeshift lock pick, which in turn lost its purchase in the jam and slipped to the floor with a splat sound. He jumped out of the way as the door yawed slowly
backwards along its arc with a barely audible moan. There, standing with her hand out as though she had just opened the door herself, was Lois. She popped her gaze down to the piece of
table that now lay resting at his feet, and then looked back at him.

"Well," she said, "I was going to rescue you, but this works too."

"No. You don't get to tell me that there's something you've been keeping from me and then make me wait even longer."

"Perish the thought." He paused, frowning. "Sorry, poor choice of words." He blinked away the frown, then continued. "I still don't think you're well enough for a serious talk."

Indignation, abandoning its previous companions, joined Curiosity and Determination. The three worked in practiced unison to set up an impenetrable fortress.

She glared at him. Who was he to make that decision for her? And did he really think he could get away with not talking? Again? After all the times he'd run out in the middle of a serious conversation? Maddeningly, her glare was completely ineffective. He wasn't even looking at her. His eyes were unfocused. He was thinking. Suddenly, he turned back to her.

"How about this? I'll make you a cup of tea. You drink it -- slowly -- and when you're done, we'll talk. Deal?"

She thought about it. Curiosity was willing to give up a few minutes in exchange for guaranteed cooperation, but Determination and Indignation weren't prepared to wait. Curiosity asked if they had a better plan. After consulting with the still-foggy central processor, they were forced to reply that no, they did not, but, really, when had they needed one before? A fight broke out in the fortress, the outcome uncertain. To buy time, she seized a small party of Curious troops who had ventured outside the fortress. "Tea?" she asked.

"Well, I don't think coffee is a good idea. We don't know if it would react with the pill. Tea seems safer."

She hadn't thought of that. Worry snuck into the battle-ravaged fortress, throwing everything into hopeless confusion. Clearly, she needed more time. She decided to be playful. "Oolong?"

"Clark, that didn't do you much good last time!" Lois exclaimed. "You lost it somewhere in space!" She jumped to her feet and began to pace the living room. "These people seriously want you to fly into space on what could be a hopeless task - I mean, there's no guarantee that you'll even succeed - and risk your life in the process? I don't believe it! How could they...! How *dare* they demand you risk your life like that!"

"Lois, if I don't risk my life on this, the entire planet could die," Clark pointed out quietly. "That's how serious this thing is."

Too many thoughts were flying through Lois's brain to allow her to think coherently; the only concept which her mental processes could deal with was the possibility that her husband could get killed on this fool's errand, and that regardless of that possibility, some government scientists somewhere were just demanding that he do their bidding nonetheless. Blinking back tears, she faced Clark again. "You said this was part of an exploded planet - which planet?"

It was a non sequitur, a question to distract Clark and to allow her a few moments' breathing space. But his answer, when it came, drained her face of all colour and caused her to sink onto the nearest chair.

"It's Krypton, Lois."

As his headache had not yet subsided, he leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. Eventually, he managed to relax, ignoring the sounds of the traffic all around them and focusing only on the hum of the road and the sound of Lois's breathing. He could almost imagine that he heard the beating of her heart, and in time, despite the growing pain in his head, he managed to doze.

His mind drifted. He imagined that he was holding Lois in his arms. Her hair was short and curly, and he was filled with a feeling of freedom he'd never felt before. The wind was blowing in his face, and she laughed as he held her.

It took him a moment to realize that he was flying.

He moaned as he woke, his head splitting with pain. He opened his eyes, and it took him a moment to realize that they were outside the city limits. They were surrounded by the flatness of the desert, with mountains in the distance. Lois was fiddling with the radio, and there were no other cars in sight.

She glanced at him. "Are you feeling ok?"

"I've had this headache since this morning, and it's just been getting worse and worse all day long."

"Don't be a fool, man!" she shouted brusquely. "You need warmth. And, I dare say, some tea wouldn't hurt, either!"

He smiled at her, either amused by her manner or grateful for her care. Winnie wasn't sure which. All she knew for sure was that his was a gleaming white smile.

It was a movie-star kind of smile, Winnie thought. It made her ageing heart skip beats and remember how it felt to be young. If she had been fifty years younger, she might have
been attracted to him. Even now, in her seventies, she could appreciate the beauty of his smile. She was old, not dead!

"What are your real intentions?" She knew she was blushing as she voiced the question, but she refused to play the role of the coquette and lower her eyes. "What do you want from me?" Why do you make me feel beautiful and wanted, she almost added, but bit her lower lip instead. He had claimed several times that there was nothing on his mind other than talking. Somehow, she couldn't believe that. She didn't *want* to believe that.

She heard him inhale sharply, and she held her breath as she waited for his words to hit her.

"I don't know what I want," he whispered fiercely, his eyes burning with renewed intensity and his posture tense. "But I know what I *don't* want. I don't want to passively watch you walk away from here. I don't want to live with the feeling that what I've been missing all these years was within reach tonight, and, fool that I am, that I let it go."

"I'm a reporter."

"I said I wasn't interested."

"Fine."

"A reporter in Borneo?"

"I thought you weren't interested?"

"I'm not. I'm just being polite." She looked belligerent for a moment, then repeated her earlier question. "So... Borneo?"

She was a bundle of contradictions, Clark decided, unable to decide whether he was irritated or charmed by her attitude. She was fascinating for sure. "Don't look so surprised," he said with an indulgent smile, which he knew she would probably interpret as unbearable contempt. "There *are* newspapers there."

"With as big a reputation as the Planet?"

"Is that the paper you're working for? The Daily Planet?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Is there a rule that says I have to?"

She glared, her frown reminiscent of the expression adorning her face when she had first snapped at him. "I suppose there isn't," she said slowly. "Just like there is no rule forcing me to listen to the boring conversation of a guy who needs a better hobby than sitting in bars waiting for a woman to annoy."

She rummaged through her purse and dropped a few bills onto the table, then she put on her coat and slid out of the booth where she had been sitting.

She was leaving.

"Live a little, Clark. It's fun to be bad."

His eyes go a little darker. "So was that fun?" He gestures to
the bedroom door. "Or bad?"

"Are you fishing for compliments now? Because I'm not about to
rate you."

"You don't have to. I already know how I did."

I open my mouth but no words come out. I pick up the closest
pillow off the couch and throw it at him. He ducks and it knocks
the lamp off the end table. He catches it before it hits the
floor and puts it back.

"Tell you what," he says as he dodges the next pillow I launch at
him. "You call Henderson while I go get us something to eat. I
have a feeling I'm going to need my strength for round two."

He bends to pick up his shoes, missing another pillow in the
process, and heads for the door.

"You're laboring under the delusion that there will be a round
two!" I finally manage to find my voice as he opens the door.

He looks back over his shoulder. "You're saying there won't
be?"

"I wouldn't bet on it!" I pick up the last pillow on the couch
and take aim.

"Oh, I would." He winks at me and closes the door just before
the pillow gets there.

I shouldn't be thrown by Clark's innuendoes. I should have known
to expect this since he teased me about liking it on top within
minutes of our first meeting. He intrigues me and maddens me
and... there's no one else I ever felt this comfortable or this
safe with. No one else who ever pushed me over the edge and
caught me at the same time.

Of course there's going to be a round two.

"Hmmm," Clark hums and it tickles my cheek where it's pressed
against his chest. "I should tell you something."

"If it's about Superman..." I have to pause for a yawn. "Then I
already know about that."

"It's kind of about that..." He looks away suddenly, towards the
open bedroom door.

"What is it?"

"It's Perry!" He rolls out of the bed and dresses in a blur.
I'm still lying there, feeling lethargic, before I realize what
he's saying. I scramble off the bed, in search of my underwear
as he shuts the bedroom door behind him. I pull my clothes on
quickly and head out to join Clark and Perry.

"... She ended up in the West River so she's probably still
getting dressed." Clark is saying as I come into the front room.

Perry looks at me, than back at Clark and the grin that he was
already wearing grows wider. "Are you okay, Lois?"

"Fine," I say. I get the distinct impression that Perry is just
messing with us. And why wouldn't he? Clark looks as flustered
as I feel. We're both barefoot, both flushed, and we both look
guilty as hell. Clark has finger-combed his hair but I'm
positive mine looks like I was just f... fished out of the
river.

"Apparently there is nothing truly holding you here anymore." His pause was unintentionally dramatic. "You could leave."

Lois held up both hands in front of her. "Oh no, not again. I'm not going to go traipsing off to another dimension so I can create another Superman for you. I'm too old and tired for that." She sighed. "Can't you just let me live out the rest of my years in peace?" She dropped
her head into her hands.

His voice was soft, but steady. "I just thought if there was no longer anything here for you, that you might want to go... home."

Her head snapped up. Her eyes locked onto his. "Home?"

Wells gave her a quick nod. "He needs you."

"Hey," interrupted Jimmy, "wanna see if we can outguess
Dear Annie this morning? There's a good one, today."

"Shoot," said Lois as she began systematically plucking the
raisins from her cinnamon bun.

"'Dear Annie,'" Jimmy read from the Lifestyle section, "'I
think I experienced love at first sight. I thought my
infatuation would disappear but I still feel the same after
three years. I told him I loved him about a year ago, but
he never responded. I think about him all the time. I have
the chance to leave the country for a year. Do you think it
would help to finally forget him? Cynthia.'"

"Leave the country, Cynthia," Lois said as she placed the
raisins in a neat pile on a napkin beside her cup.

"Why do you say that?" Clark asked.

"She's been waiting around for three years, for god's sake.
Can't she take a hint? Cynthia, get on with your life.
Forget him. Go away and have the best time ever."

We get more calls about Dad's speech than we did about Mom being on
the front page of the newspapers, and Mom says it's *not* true what
Daddy says about everyone being too scared of *her* to dare say
anything about her exploits.

Ralph calls Dad "Superman" now and Mom doesn't like it but Dad says
that he'll get tired of it and stop doing it if she quits rising to
the bait and throwing things at him.

Now whenever Daddy's writing a speech and can't think of anything to
say, Mom will sit on the arm of his chair and tell him, "if things
get dull, you can take off your shirt ..." and he'll say, "Lo-is," and
then she'll laugh and slide into his lap and put her arms around him
and start kissing him and then he forgets about being mad at her and
forgets about his speech. Every time.

Clark resigned himself to this thought pattern, and just as the opening credits began to roll, he reached into the bucket to find a few kernels of popcorn.

He froze.

His hand had hit the rough, buttery popcorn, but it had also hit something else. Something soft and smooth. Something small and delicate. Something that also froze at the contact with his skin. Looking down into the popcorn, his suspicions were confirmed. His hand was brushed up against hers.

Not knowing what else to do, he pulled his hand up and out of the bucket. His palms were sweaty, his heart was beating a mile a minute, and his thoughts were racing even faster.

Had she reached for the popcorn at the same time on purpose, or was it just a coincidence? Did she think that he had done it on purpose? Had she even noticed that they had touched? Did she care? What should he do next? Should he go in for the popcorn again? Or wait a while? Or just leave it entirely alone for the rest of the night?

Clark forced himself to take a deep breath -- a super-deep breath -- to calm down, and he began to reason with himself. First of all, she didn't know what Jack had done -- neither did he, exactly, for that matter. Second, she wasn't getting nervous and panicky over a little touch, so why should he? After all, they'd touched hundreds of times before. They'd even *kissed* a couple of times!

But somehow, sitting in a dark movie theater was forcing him to think of things a little differently. He wished that she was thinking of things a little differently too.

Two steps later, though, Lois stopped. Her eyes widened in disbelief as something occurred to her. Then she stomped her foot and let out a yell of aggravation. "Lois, what did you just do?!" she berated herself aloud, the sound of her voice echoing off the alley walls. "Someone just tried to mug you, and what did you do? You beat the crap out of him. What were you thinking?!"

She shook her head in disbelief. That, clearly, was the problem. She *hadn't* been thinking. If she had been thinking, all she would have had to do was place a loud and frightened, "Help! I'm being mugged!" and the very man she was after could have been standing right there in front of her.

She had blown it. Blown it big time.

Lois turned back to her would-be assailant, who was still out cold. Maybe she could wake him up, ask him to try again? She could promise not to beat him up this time if he would let her yell instead.

quote:

"Apparently there is nothing truly holding you here anymore." His pause was unintentionally dramatic. "You could leave."

Lois held up both hands in front of her. "Oh no, not again. I'm not going to go traipsing off to another dimension so I can create another Superman for you. I'm too old and tired for that." She sighed. "Can't you just let me live out the rest of my years in peace?" She dropped
her head into her hands.

His voice was soft, but steady. "I just thought if there was no longer anything here for you, that you might want to go... home."

Her head snapped up. Her eyes locked onto his. "Home?"

Wells gave her a quick nod. "He needs you."

This is the wonderful, beautiful, amazing, stomp-on-the-heart-strings, A Future Reborn by Tank. Best series ever. Best ending ever. Just so, so, so good. Read it! It'll kill you!!

He opened his mouth to reassure the woman that his intentions with Lois were honorable, but just then a small white dog barreled out into the hallway, barking viciously. The next thing he knew, the dog had bit him on the ankle. Before he could react, the dog yipped in pain (he suspected those little teeth hadn’t appreciated biting into a hard-as-steel, invulnerable leg), then backed off, still barking--he suspected in an effort to regain some of its dignity.

Realizing two people were staring at him in wide-eyed shock at the dog’s behavior, he quickly pretended the dog’s bite had hurt and reached over to rub his ankle. “Ow,” he exclaimed, hoping he sounded convincing.

“Princess!” Lois exclaimed, looking over at the dog in dismay. “What has gotten into you? Agnes!”

Agnes bent over to pick up the dog at her feet and gave her a couple of reassuring strokes to soothe the riled animal. Then she glanced back up at Clark and took a couple of determined steps toward him, her eyes suspicious and accusing.

"Princess is protective, that's all,” she told Lois upon hearing the young woman’s protest at the dog’s behavior. “But she's also a pretty good judge of character. She knows better than most people when someone is hiding something." Agnes took a step closer to Clark, the dog still growling in her hands, and she narrowed her eyebrows at him. "You're not hiding anything, are you, young man?"

She's not always so peaceful. She can be pretty feisty at times - it's a good thing I'm invulnerable, otherwise she might well have drawn blood by now. I guess it's her independent spirit that makes us clash, and if I'm being honest, I can be pretty stubborn, too. The result is that we don't always agree: I want to do things my way and she wants to do them her way.

Of course, she can also be aloof and haughty when she thinks I've done wrong. I get ignored on a regular basis.

Henderson huffed with exasperation. "Look, Kent, I don't have an S-signal, so just do me a favor and let the big guy know I want to talk to him, okay? One of these days you'll have to explain to me how you manage to get in touch with him whenever you want to."

"My parents... they'll take over." Now she had to swallow. "When they know... At the hospital. They'll want... Promise me you won't let them do anything... I don't want to be a vegetable, Clark!"
Tears were flowing freely now, but she made no attempt to stop them. "No machines. No tubes. No ven... ventilator. Just... let me go cleanly, okay? Please!"

"Stay here," he ordered her tersely. He took a fast look around
before spinning. There was no one else to see.

"Nice trick," she said with ill-concealed envy. "What I wouldn't
give. I could set my alarm for, like, three seconds before the
morning conference. Wake up and twirl-thingy, and still have time
to boil an egg...I think. Never really been good at that-"

"Stay here," he repeated, cutting her off with a meaningful
stare.

"Sure," she agreed offhandedly. "And Clark...?" He was in the
air. "Be careful."

That gave him a half seconds pause. "If you do leave, get someone
to walk you to your car." At her expression, he pushed on. "Humor
me. And I'll...see you tomorrow."

It wasn't that long, though. It was just a few hours later when
he saw her again. She was falling off a building.

Lois gazed absently at the red digital numbers counting up the floors and tried to ignore the part of herself insisting that she didn't actually mind being alone in the elevator with this man. He wasn't bad looking, after all. Well, okay, the hair needed some work. It reminded her of a fourth grade kid who never realized his short haircut had outgrown itself until his mother dragged him off to the barber shop. But you could forgive the hair for the sake of those deep, dark eyes that looked like their owner could never hurt anyone. And the smile that made her feel like she was the most important thing in his world. And...and...um...and he'd noticed she was staring at him.

She whipped her head back around to examine the digital numbers that were taking their own sweet time in rising. Just where were you going with that anyway, Lane? she questioned herself. Get a grip! The man is not a manic serial killer who lures innocent women into abandoned elevators, and he is not madly in love with you!

"I figured you'd be here, Lane," Inspector Henderson remarked dryly.

Lois eyed him warily, "And why is that, Henderson?"

"We have this hurricane tracking chart down at the station," Henderson said, and glanced at the debris that was once the Ace o' Clubs, "And it said something slammed into Suicide Slum this evening. I'm just glad I have a name to go with the destructive force."

"Cute, Henderson."

"Well, I think I got it all out," Clark said as he exited the washroom dabbing at his tie.

"Kent?" Henderson shook his head. "I thought you'd have more sense than to take an assignment in this part of town."

"Well, I--"

"We're on a date, Henderson, and it was Clark's idea to come here."

"Ah," Henderson nodded. "Love induced idiocy. I can accept that."

"Hey!--"

"Save it, Lane," Henderson said, and glanced down at Big Joey. "Who did this?"

"Superman."

Henderson looked over his shoulder at a couple of uniformed officers, and then pointed down at Big Joey. The officers helped the groggy man to his feet, and escorted him out of the club. "No telling how many lives Superman saved by putting Bibboski's buffet out of commision."

Clark laughed, and then felt Lois place her hand on his chest. "I'm going to go break off my other heel, comb my hair, and then we can go."

"Here," Clark said, and knelt down in front of her.

"Perfect place to propose to Lane."

Lois sighed, "Go chalk some tires, Henderson."

"No, Mom, I'm okay. Really, I am. Married? Yes, actually I am. I would have called you but it was so sudden. Who? Well, you remember me telling you about Lois? The girl I met in D.C. and that I was pretty sure that Lois Lane was her? Well, that's who I married. No, we haven't had a chance to talk about all of that yet. Dad? Everything is fine, really. No, I haven't told her yet. We haven't had a chance to really talk things out. No, I don't know where we are going to live. I know, Dad, like a frog. I've heard it a million times. Yes, I'll bring her out to meet you soon. No, probably not tonight. I mean, how could we get there so fast? It would cost an arm and a leg to get plane tickets on such short notice. No, I don't think that it's a good idea for you to come here. Where would you stay? We don't even have a place of our own yet. And my sister-in-law," Lois smiled at that remark, "is staying at Lois' apartment right now. Look, Mom, Dad, I gotta go. We're already late for work and Perry's sure to fire me at least. No, we aren't taking any time off just yet. I'm sure he would give us the time, but he doesn't know yet. You're the only people who know. Except for the three people at the wedding. I don't even know if Lois told the clerk at the hotel when we checked in last night. No, not this hotel. Give me a little credit, Mom. We stayed downtown. Now, I really have to go. I'll call you later. I love you, too. Bye."

She watched as his expression softened, then he leaned over and kissed her.
"Thank you." He took his free hand and reached for hers, playing with
her fingers in a way that told her he wasn't completely ready to let go of
this problem. "I guess you're right. Sometimes people do crazy things for
the people they love. But, doing crazy things and being crazy enough to
kill yourself are two different things, Lois."

"But, honey, the coroner said that while it was unusual for a suicide to
shoot themselves in the back of the head, it wasn't entirely unprecedented.
The angle was achievable and they did find gunpowder traces on her hands
and the gun beside the body, remember."

"They also found a bruise on her cheek and another on her arm."

"Which she could have gotten in that fight with her boyfriend."

"Ah, yes," Clark replied skeptically. "The fight she mentioned in her
suicide note. But what if that note was phoney? Then those bruises could
have been caused by her murderer."

"I thought of that, too, but if her boyfriend was the murderer then why
would he leave a note lying around that could incriminate him?"

"Maybe he didn't know about it.".

"Maybe ..." Lois thought of another point. "Henderson said they haven't
been able to ID any boyfriend for her, anyway. Maybe she imagined him
because she wanted one so badly."

"And gave herself those bruises, too?"

Lois frowned as she thought over the various possibilities. "I know
it doesn't make much sense, Clark, but we've seen even stranger things than
this before."

They were silent for a moment or two, sipping their hot drinks. "This
whole situation just bugs me," Clark said eventually. "I feel like we're
missing some vital bit of information that would make it all fall right
into place."

"I know what you mean. Sometimes I almost think I've got the missing piece
of the puzzle, but then it turns out that it doesn't quite fit after all.
We both know how good I am at sniffing out conspiracies, but I just can't
see it here ... at least not with what we've been able to learn so far.
There's just this one pathetic girl who wanted someone love her, and
another even more pathetic woman who couldn't give up her fantasies about a
married man."

What does IABP mean?

"How do things look for us, Ms. Hunter?" Clark asked.

"Please call me 'Constance,' she told them with a smile. She could
hardly blame them for wanting to get to the point. Laura was an adorable
child--dark hair and eyes, lovely skin and a winning smile. She certainly
didn't look neglected.

"Thank you," Clark said. "And you don't have to be formal with us,
either. 'Lois and Clark' will be fine."

"All right. Then let's get down to work." She picked up some
official looking documents from her desk and handed them to Lois and Clark.
"I'd say things look good. I have depositions from your pediatrician and
the neighbor you said did some baby-sitting for you a couple of times.
I've also spoken with Perry White, James Olsen and Penelope Barnes. All of
these people have agreed to testify on your behalf. Still no word from
your parents, Clark?"

Clark shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"Well, it will probably be all right any way. These other people will be
good witnesses. With the exception of the pediatrician, they've all been
to your house--sometimes arriving unannounced--and say they can attest to
your care of Laura."

At the sound of her name, Laura turned her face to Constance and smiled.
The attorney found herself smiling back, and addressed her next remarks
towards the baby. "And once the judge sees how normal and healthy this
little cutie looks, well ... it will be an open and shut case, won't it,
Laura?"

Laura grinned even wider, then hid her face against her daddy's jacket.
She had only begun to interact with other people in the last month, and so
this was still a new game for her. The adults laughed at her expressions,
relief intermixed with the humor.

Clark shrugged and ripped open the envelope. He pulled out a single sheet of paper and unfolded it. "It's a note." He frowned over the unfamiliar handwriting, and read it aloud.

Dear Clark,
This belongs with the ring you found in your
grandmother's memory box. I know you don't think
too much of girls yet, but that's going to change
in the next few years and someday you'll meet
someone you want to be with for the rest of your
life. When that happens, it would please me if
you'd think about honoring that love with this
gift.
With admiration and respect,
Kal-El

Clark looked in the envelope again, and shook something out into his hand. He puzzled over it for a minute, then dangled a long silver chain from his fingers. On the end of the chain swung the companion to the ring in Martha's box -- a woman's wedding band.

The very next day, she fell from the observation deck of the Metropolis Planetarium. Up until Lois nearly died, it had been a wonderful night.

Lois looked up at him, her eyes narrowing as she noted his rigid posture and the stubborn set of his jaw. She was going to have to resort to high-pressure tactics. "Clark," she said sweetly, "if you don't stop avoiding me, I'm going to write an article telling everyone that you're Superman."

"You wouldn't do that," he said with more confidence than he felt. "You wouldn't expose Superman."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" retorted Lois. "Read about it in tomorrow's Daily Planet!"

"But ... that's blackmail, Lois!" Clark protested.

"So?"

"So, you can't do that!"

"You know how to stop me ..." she said.

"Lois, I'm going to kiss you, you know that?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"You got any problems with that, my little Tornado?"

"None at all - except that you're taking too long about it."

"Claaaarrrrk!"
He turned, zeroed on the call and knelt in time to pluck Vanessa up in her dash at him. He sat her on his arm, and she gave him a big hug around his neck and then looked at him seriously. He could feel what was coming. Fortunately, she was as excited as she was serious, so when she began to speak, her tale came out in something akin to babytalk. "Shh," he whispered, "Tell me a secret," and he walked a distance and turned so that the fewest number of people would be likely to see her hug his neck again and whisper certain truths in his ear. As for those who could hear her talking, odds were very good they would not understand her.
As expected, in essence she warned him about flying around, it could be *dangerous*. He nodded along seriously, letting her get it out of her system, which took about 30 breathless seconds, during which time he noticed Lois was watching him. She had gotten the group of neighbors talking among themselves, he noted, and was free to turn her attention back to him. But he really doubted she could understand babytalk or lip read it, even if she could hear what Vanessa was saying.
When Vanessa had spoken her piece, she leaned back relaxed, totally comfortable with the fact that he wouldn't let her fall, and gave him a "Well, what about it, buddy?" look.
"I'll be very careful," he told her in a whisper equal to the one she had used. "This is our secret, okay?"

"But before you're locked up," Clark said, with a sloppy grin, "wouldn't it be fun if we could find a pretty redhead? We'd have a blast." He leaned forward to whisper loudly in her ear, "Give me a couple of minutes. I think I can talk Lois into going along. Just think of it. Me with a blonde, a brunette and a redhead."

"You know, Billy..." Clark drawled, eyeing Church speculatively.

"What?" Church asked. "What could you possibly find to say to me at
this point in time?" He slumped in his chair, a defeated man.

Clark snagged a chair and sat down beside Church. He patted the
other man on the knee. "I just noticed something..."

"What?"

"You have really gorgeous eyes and nice hair. Not a bad build."

Church's eyes widened.

"Do you wanna feel my muscles, too?"

"Lois! You're brilliant!"

She curtsied. "Why, thank you very much, Mr. Kent."

"Yeah, it's just too bad that you're not blonde! Then you'd be perfect."

"I'm going to get you for that!" Lois shrieked as she threw herself at him.

He surprised her by catching her in mid-air and twirling her around.
"You're just lucky that I happen to like brunettes."

"Brunettes?"

"Okay, one brunette."

"Oh, Clark!" She tugged his face to meet hers. They kissed, arms
wrapped around each other. Lois pulled away suddenly. "I know what
we can do about the 'Superman's in love with Lois Lane' problem!"

"What?" Clark asked, eagerly.

Lois started talking fast, outlining her idea. Clark looked less and
less happy as she spoke.

"Lois! I can't do that!"

She grinned at him. "Sure you can, Clark. You're Superman. You can
do anything!"

Lois saw that special twinkle in his chocolate-colored eyes, that he reserved only for her, and laughed, punching his arm lightly.
"Watch it, farmboy! You can be replaced!"
"Yeah, by who?"
"Oh.. Jack! And he knows how to type, too!"
"Ohmygosh, my competition looms!"
"No, he can't weave, but, Clark, you and I can...!"
"Heh... Ah, okay, Lois..." he took a careful breath. "I think we should do it, move in together."
"Me, too. My place or yours?"
"Mine's bigger," Clark answered.
"That's what I'd like to find out." Lois grinned wickedly, then laughed when Clark raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a grin himself.

*****

But it was too late. She saw Clyde reach for his gun, and a million things ran through her mind in mere milliseconds. He was going to kill Clark.

There was no way she could let that happen. Not having any time available to think, even breathe, she threw herself in front of Clark, just as a single gunshot rang out.

An acute pain instantly ran through her, but she knew Clark was okay.

He had only known her a short time. Barely a week. But he wasn't at all surprised to see her there. Right in the middle of it. Center of the action, heart of the story. As he crossed the threshold and took in the alarm on her face, and the growing disbelief, he fought a giddy urge to say as much. "You again?"

Of course he didn't. Because if he could get past her, get in and get out without her shouting about annoying junior partners in ridiculous get-ups who had obviously lost what little mind they already had, then he knew he was golden. The dual-identity thing would work.

Talk about your baptism by fire.

"Well, there's something going on down here at Star Labs that I thought
Clark might be interested in. In the past, he's always wanted to know if
anything happened down here that was Superman related. And this definitely
is."

Jimmy's interest perked up immediately and he took a seat at Clark's desk
"What's going on?"

"Well, Dr. Klein just phoned from Metropolis General and authorized the
release of the Kryptonite that we have stored here in our vault. He said
he needed it for something he was working on at the hospital. He said it
was a matter of life or death."

Jimmy was stunned. "A matter of life or death for whom?" he asked. "You
don't think that it was Superman's life that he was talking about, do you?"

"I don't know," Steve answered truthfully. "But he sounded very serious
when he called. Anyway, I just wanted to call and let Clark know what'd
I'd heard. Will you make sure he gets the message?"

Hesitantly, he approached the case. Something had fallen from some previously undiscovered pocket in the cape. No, there were two somethings. A pair of glasses and a wedding ring.

Lois felt her heart begin to pound in her chest, and she, too, found herself watching his lips even as she began to lean towards him. She could see the longing in his eyes ... he was going to kiss her ... really kiss her ... and she was going to kiss him back. As she felt his warm breath on her face, her eyes fluttered closed, waiting ...

"Hey, lady, are you getting in or not?" the cab driver suddenly barked. "It's freezing out there and you're letting all the cold air in!"

Lois's eyes flew open and she saw that Clark looked at shocked as she felt. She watched as he closed his eyes briefly, jaw clenched, and knew that was he was surely mentally cursing the man for breaking the moment. The idea was suddenly too much for her, and she began to giggle, her body shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

"Hi," Lois said briefly. "Lois Lane, Daily Planet." The familiar terse introduction slipped out without conscious thought. To soften it, she added, "I work with Clark."

Martha looked at her sharply for a second, but then Clark stirred, riveting both their attentions. Martha was closer to his head, and she touched him lightly on the face. Lois, further away, contented herself with holding one of Clark's hands and squeezing gently. He remained stubbornly unconscious.

He was caught off guard by her reaction. In one second she'd revealed that she had been worried about him today. The next, she was back peddling just like she always did when things became too emotional for her. He wanted to cry. Would he ever gain Lois' trust enough so she could just let go and be herself? Though he realized that lately they'd made more progress than he'd once thought possible, he still moved to give her a wide berth.

"But you don't need to help. Lois, you looked tired, so I want
you to put your feet up." Clark led Lois to the sofa and gently
pushed her down to sit. "Watch TV, or listen to music...." He
picked up the latest issue of his travel magazine and offered it
to her. "Or read... anything you want. Just make sure you rest."

Lois couldn't help but giggle at his antics. "Clark, isn't it
supposed to be you who's resting?"

Turning away, Clark switched on some soothing music then moved back to the kitchen. "Lois, I'm feeling good. I saved some people today and helped the emergency services to clear up the mess and I'm still alive and kicking. There's nothing to worry about." Clark saw that Lois had laid her head back on the couch and closed her eyes. That was good, she wouldn't notice that he was looking guilty or that he was shielding his left arm.

When did Superman start lying? he mused, but he already knew the answer. The day he started trying to hide things from Lois again.

It's not...the monkey story, is it?

"Lois..." He looked down at their hands, then back at her. "This isn't a real marriage."

The tender expression left Lois' face and she snatched her hand
from his. "No. I guess not." Why did Clark have to bring that up
and look so pathetic, reminding her that he secretly wanted more? With her ambivalent feelings rising again to the surface, she got up and started to the kitchen, eager to put some space between them.

Clark followed, not quite understanding why he was being so
perverse, yet unable to stop his hurtful words. "Come on, Lois. I
think you should be honest here. The only reason you're doing
this is to save my life."

She spun around to look at him. "I could do that without marrying you," she hissed. "Babies are born everyday without the security of marriage."

When Dr Klein was alone, he stared down at the file in his hand in disbelief. He'd just told The Man of Steel that he was
seriously ill and the magnitude of the situation was threatening
to overwhelm him.

Clinical work was certainly not his specialty; he'd long ago
realized that dealing with people was something he wasn't good
at. But he'd do anything at all for Superman.

"Cancer," Bernie mumbled absently as he rose from his stool.
"Wow."

Hopefully, I'm not living in Obtuseville this round.

A few minutes later, Clark was a short way down the beach, busy collecting and laying out the wood for a campfire to cook their supper that evening when a brunette tornado bore down on him, her brown eyes flashing with the intensity of her anger. "What are these?"

His gaze dropped to the items in her hands. "Well, I'm not sure, but this one looks like a dress and the others might be shorts and a tank top. You think?"

She followed his hand movements then returned her glare to his face, growling sarcastically. "In my size?"

"I certainly don't need them in my size." He chuckled, shook his head at the image and turned to start working again.

Lois, however, wasn't finished. "Clark Kent, you'd better have a good explanation for why there are woman's clothes here in MY size."

Eyebrows raised and head tilted, he asked quietly. "Tell me something, Lois Lane, would you feel better if they were ANOTHER size?"

Hands on hips, she glared at him. "I can't believe you did this. You've practically kidnapped me."
"I did not."
Her voice dropped in tone as she hissed, sarcastically. "Oh, really? Then take me back. This instant."
His arms crossed against his chest stubbornly. "Nope."
Her eyes widened. "Why not?"
"I'm not ready to go back yet."
"You can't do this! You can't just bring me here then keep me against my will."
Clark's head tilted as he considered her words. Rubbing his chin, he murmured. "Look around you. It seems I already have and, therefore, I CAN. I would give that some thought, if I were you."

She was the first to break the silence. "Where exactly are we?"
His head tilted as he considered her question. "We're walking along a beach on a tiny uncharted island in the middle of an ocean somewhere in the world."
"You wouldn't want to be a little more . . . um, vague, would you?"
"Nope, I honestly don't think that would be necessary."

Lois surveyed the parking lot trying to second guess the type of vehicle she might find. "Clark, come on, which one is it?"

"Why is it so important?" Clark chuckled.

"Well- I mean, a car says a lot about a person I think." Lois tipped her head in concentration.

"Well," Clark began. "You know a lot about me ... guess." He smiled and Lois slapped his arm playfully.

"All right." She furrowed her brow, suddenly looking up. "It better not be a mini-van"

Clark laughed. "Why not? What's wrong with Mini-vans?"

Lois shrugged. "Well nothing, really, it's just ... I don't see you as the mini-van type. Besides, they're boring."

Clark had to stop himself from laughing. God, it had been so long since he'd laughed this way with anyone! "It's not a mini-van, Lois."

"Good." She smiled.

"In fact ..." They rounded the corner of the parking lot and Lois gasped.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. That's it." He watched Lois as she disengaged from his arm and moved to examine the small red Lotus. She placed her hands on its edge and ran her fingers along the roof in a way that made Clark wish she had done the same thing to him.

"What -- did they pay you in gold bars over there in France?" She looked up at him and Clark stoically shook his head.

"No, I mortgaged my underwear for that thing," Clark admitted.

Lois giggled, moving back towards him. "So," she tapped his chest, "there *is* an earthling male in there somewhere, huh?"

"Last night ... I thought it sounded like Perry was giving you the third degree and I was right! I couldn't understand it at the time because why would he be grilling the very guy he'd wanted me to meet in the first place?"
"You know, I did kind of wonder about some of the questions he asked me, but -- "

She interrupted him. "Boy, am I going to give Mr. Perry White a piece of my mind the next time I see him. He has no business interrogating my ..."

She became aware that Clark was silently laughing. "What's so funny?"

"Elvis almost married the wrong person, too, Lois."

She stared at him for a moment while memories of Perry trying to tell his story and Alice trying even harder to prevent him, skipped through her mind, and then she was laughing, too.

"So how's your arm doing?"

Lois pulled up the sleeve of her t-shirt to expose the
series of dark bruises that had formed on her upper arm
where one of the men had grabbed her. "It looks worse than
it is."

Clark shook his head in amazement. "You can actually see
the finger marks." He took her arm and rotated it
carefully. "And your leg?"

She waved off his concern. "Sore but not too badly bruised.
How about your ribs?"

"Like you said, looks worse than it feels. But I didn't
know skin could be so many different colors at once!"

"Ooo, let me see."

He sat back and lifted the hem of his t-shirt, exposing his
chest, then laughed at the look on Lois's face.

"Geez, Clark! That looks horrible!"

"Doesn't it, though?"

Lois shook her head. "Matches your face, though," she added
with a half smile. "Your right eye is a *very* becoming
shade of purple.

Lois shook her head. "I could never hurt Clark that way. I
have no intention of ruining his happiness, but you'd better tell
him soon, Mayson. If you really love Clark, you can't expect to
have an honest relationship with him if you're keeping a big
secret from him," she said, and stared intently into Mayson's
eyes. "The longer you keep the secret, the more it's going to
hurt when the truth finally comes out."
Mayson was about to respond when a waiter handed her a
note. She sighed. "It seems Clark was called away."
Lois felt relief wash over her. She would not have to face
Clark and Mayson together. "Then I'd better be going." She
said, and rose from her chair. "Tell him soon, Mayson. Clark
doesn't deserve that kind of pain."
Mayson's eyes narrowed, "I'm getting a slightly clearer picture
now. I think you're carrying a little torch for your best friend."
Lois folded her arms. "I'd hardly call it little, but don't worry,
Drake," she said, no longer putting up a pretense of civility. "I
was too slow acknowledging my deeper feelings for Clark, so I
won't be making any last minute bid to take him away from you."
"As if you could." Mayson laughed sourly. "I just realized that
there's no reason for me to ever reveal my true feelings about
Superman to Clark. Working in the D.A.'s office gives one a
flair for the melodramatic. I'll simply pretend to be courteous to
the alien when my path crosses his."
"That's even worse!"
"I think given enough time, I can turn Clark around to my way
of thinking, and when that happens, the truth won't matter."
Mayson rose from her chair and faced Lois. "Unless you intend
to go behind my back and tell him yourself."
"That won't be necessary."
Mayson and Lois turned to see Clark approaching the table.
Ever since childhood Lois had desired the power of invisibility,
but this was the first time as an adult that she would have paid
any price if she could secure that power. Mayson walked up to
Clark and began fiddling with his lapels nervously. "The note
said you were called away."
"Is it true, Mayson?" He asked, ignoring her question. "Do
you hate Superman?"
"My God, Clark! What possible difference could my feelings
for Superman make? What does he have to do with us?"
"Is it true?"
Mayson sighed. "If I'd told you that I had an aversion to
snakes or spiders, would that have mattered to you?"
"No," Clark said softly. "But the fact that you'd lump Superman
in with other 'creatures' that make your flesh crawl does matter."
"You were eavesdropping!"
"Not intentionally, Mayson. I had something personal to
discuss with you, but when I saw Lois, I ducked into the
shadows."

"So you're from Metropolis?"

"Yep. What about you? I mean, before you came here."

"My dad's family is from Chicago and my mom is from near San Francisco. When we're in the States, the Bay Area is our home base, but we travel around a lot. I've never been to Metropolis, though."

"It's just another big city."

"I wouldn't say that. No other city has Superman."

She rolled her eyes. She could never quite get used to all the hero worship Dad got.

He flushed slightly. "I guess it's a little childish to still be into Superman."

"Oh, not at all--that's not it. All the kids at school are into Superman, and so are most of the adults in Metropolis. It's just that-- well, he's a friend of our family, from way back when he first appeared in the city and Mom and Dad covered the story, so he seems ordinary to me. I mean, imagine if everyone acted about your Aunt Diane the way people act about Superman."

He laughed. "If Aunt Diane could fly and went around saving lives, I'm sure they would."

*Laney, wake up!*

Laney Kent sat up in bed in response to the voice sounding in her mind. *I'm awake*, she thought. *I'll be there in a few minutes.* She checked the clock. Two a.m. Moving slowly and stealthily, she slid out of bed and dressed in old jeans, a dark t-shirt, and hiking boots. She pulled her heavy brown-black hair into a ponytail, and, after a moment's thought, took insect repellent from her dresser and slathered it on her exposed skin. Smelly stuff--she'd have to be sure to shower before Marty or her parents saw her tomorrow so they wouldn't suspect--but if she were to come down with malaria in a week or so, there would be no way to keep this a secret, so there would really be hell to pay.

A soft chuckle emanated from the shadows in the rear of the building.
"You won't be able to get them loose, you know," her captor stated,
amused by her efforts. "And we're too far from other buildings for anyone
to hear you screaming. In case you were wondering."

"I appreciate the advice," she replied haughtily, "but I've had far more
experience at this than you have, and I'm here to tell you, it's important not
to give up."

Dimly, she could see him tilting his head in acknowledgement of her
point. "Ah, but Superman won't save you this time." He began moving
restlessly, and emerged from the shadows, revealing the mild-mannered
exterior of Clark Kent. Lois had learned, however, not to judge this
particular book by its cover. "And no saving yourself, either," he added as
an afterthought.

Clark gasped as he sat upright and looked around.

The room was empty.

But... there it was again. An invisible touch so gentle and so intimate that it grazed his soul.

He reached out blindly and found himself touching something solid. He explored with his fingertips, then felt himself being gathered into a hug.

He hadn't been hugged like that since... He couldn't remember when. Perhaps he hadn't been hugged like that, held to a warm and comforting busom, since he was ten years old and his parents had died.

Should he be frightened? There was nobody there. He was being embraced by air.

But...

It felt so good.

He gave into temptation, and he began to sob.

This was...

It felt like...

It couldn't be...

Love.

She'd only just met him, and he couldn't really be said to have met her at all. Yet she'd witnessed his triumphs, his failures, his generosity and his pain. She understood him better than she'd understood anyone in her life, except perhaps for her sister.

But love was out of the question. There was no way they could be together. They were from two different worlds, worlds that brushed against each other from time to time, but which were never meant to meet.

He was alive. She was dead.

Clark moved a lock of hair that had fallen over one of
Lois' soft brown eyes, and gently placed it behind one ear.
He gazed longingly at the beautiful woman standing in front
of him. She was so brilliant, so gifted, and so utterly
incredible. He looked deep into those eyes, searching for
the love reflected there.

"...I...I can't wait that long. Where could we be married
in a hurry--say tonight?" he said, as he reached out and
lightly cupped his hand next to her cheek. He moved his
thumb ever so slowly over her delicate cheekbone and leaned
in to kiss her, as he had done so many, many times before.
But this time it was completely different, this time they
were....

"Stop!" Martha Kent's voice rang out from the third row of
seats in the darkened auditorium of Smallville High School.

Clark pulled back and turned toward the sound of the shrill
voice. Lois took a couple of steps back and folded her arms
across her chest, a gesture closing him out- -a gesture
Clark had become all too used to this past week.

He closed his eyes, briefly, praying for her image to leave him and
stop playing tricks on him; but when he opened them again, the mirage
was still there, dark pools in its eyes, colour-drained cheeks, and
Clark's super senses picked up the sound of a racing heartbeat.

But...

Mirages weren't supposed to have a heartbeat!

A sudden shiver ran through him as he stood still, unable to move,
frozen into place, and watched the origin of his sudden unease look
frantically for an escape. But it couldn't be... *she* couldn't be...

He was experiencing a weird feeling, something new... no, not new, he corrected.
Something experienced long ago and now buried deep inside him,
something that had waited until this moment to bubble up back to the
surface of his subconscious and grasp at his senses, something he
hadn't been able to feel for months. A rush of adrenaline coursed
through his whole body, making his head spin and leaving him slightly
dizzy; an abrupt acceleration of his heartbeat, knots tying
themselves in the centre of his chest.

No mirage.

"Lois," he said into her neck. He waited until she drew back before he continued. "I will wait a few days. let them lock me up, then I'll get out."

"Get out? How?"

"Lois," he said and glanced away from her for a moment. He met her eyes with a serious expression. "Look at me. I *will* get out. There's only one thing that could keep me from it."

"One thing? Clark, what are talking about?"

"Take my glasses off."

She lifted her hand and did as she was told. He looked so much like someone else. How could she have been fooled by a pair of glasses? She knew exactly what he meant. "Oh god!" Lois drew away in shock. Her partner, the man she thought she knew, was someone totally different.

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

One sentence, two words, a million implications.

Kryptonian? How could he be Kryptonian? Superman was the only Kryptonian on earth. Unless… Perhaps what Clark was telling her was that Superman wasn't the only Kryptonian on Earth. That would explain how Clark always knew how to get a hold of Superman at a moment's notice. He knew more about Superman than anyone. It was possible, wasn't it, that they were even brothers?

Lois studied Clark's face as he began to speak again, forcing herself to accept the truth. Clark wasn't another Kryptonian. He wasn't Superman's brother. Clark was the only Kryptonian on Earth. Clark was Superman.

"Okay, let's just say - for the sake of argument - that I go along with this. That I give up everything that makes me happy and go back to pretending I'm satisfied with being your friend." Lois had the good grace to look somewhat abashed, Clark noticed, and he allowed the impact of his words to sink in fully before he continued, his voice rising with each question.
"How long can we keep that up? Are we just supposed to stay single for the rest of our lives?[...]
Lois was quiet for a moment as Clark began to pace.
"Clark," she said finally. "I believe you mean that. I really do. You mean that now. But what about six months from now? How long until you get sick of me?
How long before what you're feeling now fades away and suddenly it's not worth putting up with my weird quirks and insecurities? Then you won't even wind up be the best man, you'll just be an ex-boyfriend that I think back on and wonder whatever happened to him."

"I just love you so much it scares me," she whispered against his neck, damp with her tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Shh, it's okay. I love you, too," he whispered, stroking her back. He wasn't sure yet that this meant she had abandoned her idea to break up with him, but the fact that she was clinging to him seemed like a good sign.

"Tell me again," she pleaded softly.

"I love you."

"No, tell me you'll never leave me. Tell me you won't get sick of me."

She was out of control, she realized belatedly. This was going to escalate, and she wasn't going to stop it. She wanted him, wanted him like she had never wanted anyone else. Consequences be damned. She'd deal with her broken heart later. It was too late to stop now, anyway. Even if she put a halt to this, their platonic friendship was gone. At least she'd have one night. One perfect night.
She placed a hand on either side of his face, and gently raised it to meet hers. Their lips came together again, nibbling and teasing for just a moment before deepening the kiss once again. His arms went around her again, finding her zipper. He stopped, then retreated, moving to caress her back again. She pulled away and looked into his eyes, confused.
"Lois, we don't have to. We can take this slow. There's no need to rush."
"Please," she whispered, bending to kiss him gently before pulling back again. "I want you, Clark. I need you."
She couldn't bring herself to tell him that she loved him. If he knew that she loved him, he might get all noble and try to put a halt to things. He would never knowingly hurt her. No, it was better that this just remain about passion and mutual attraction. Leave love out of it all together. Her lips cooperated, ceasing to talk and moving back to join his lips, but her heart rebelled, screaming its love for him.

"Oh, God, Lois. I love you," he whispered against her lips.
Lois froze. [...]Not Clark, please not Clark. She could deal with the fact that he didn't love her, though she knew he would break her heart. But she couldn't deal with him lying to her, using her. Honest. Clark was honest, had always been honest with her. If she lost that now....
Clark pulled back, worry evident in his face. "Lois, honey, what's the matter? Are you ok?"
"Don't, Clark. Please, just...you don't have to do that."
He was visibly confused. "Do what?" he asked, stroking her side again.
"You've already got me," she whispered, struggling to keep her emotions in check. "You don't have to tell me that you love me to get me into bed."

I was a beta for her "Never Ending Battle(?) for Sanctuary" some years ago. Sadly she never finished that...

It's a pity you took the revelations scene that isn't that special(IMO) .

"I thought Superman was your friend! You sound like you don't even like him!"
"It's not that I don't like him, it's that I don't like the way you act when you're around him!"
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"It means, I'm sick of watching you get all mooney-eyed every time he drops by! He's just an ordinary man, Lois, stop acting like he's some kind of god!"
"You know what? You're just jealous! Just because I don't get all mooney-eyed over you-"
"No! That's not it at all! I'm just sick of being your sounding board for this pathetic obsession!"
"Are you saying that I'm pathetic?!" she asked, incensed.
"That's *not* what I said! I *said* that this obsession is pathetic - there's a big difference. You're better than this, Lois. You deserve better than this; better than him."
"Better than him? Who could possibly be better than Superman?!"

Clark ran his fingers through his hair again, his jaw clenching. He started to speak, then stopped suddenly. He looked distant for a minute, then began edging toward the door. "You know what, Lois? Just forget about it. I just remembered that I promised a friend that I'd meet him for dinner tonight. I'm really late," he said, opening the door, coat in hand.

"Welcome to the White House, the first stop on tonight's tour. Also know as 'The People's House' and 'The Executive Mansion,' the White House is a popular spot for tourists. George Washington and Pierre L'Enfant designed the White House, but it wasn't completed until after Washington was out of office. John Adams was the first president to live in the White House."
"It looks bigger on TV," Lois commented.
"Well, looks can be deceiving. It's pretty huge. It has six floors, 132 rooms, including 35 bathrooms-"
"How do you know that?!" she exclaimed, cutting him off. "I swear, you know more useless trivia than anyone in the world."
"It's not useless," Clark said with a grin. "It keeps you amused."

"Great!" Jimmy exclaimed. Then he hesitated for a minute, as if there was something he wanted to ask but was afraid to.
"Hey, guys, I.... Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Clark said. "What is it?"

"Well, it's just that.... See, everyone is talking about it and I.... Well, I don't want to pry.... But I just don't understand why everyone seems to know but me."

"What are you talking about?" Clark asked. Jimmy looked down and shuffled his feet. Finally he looked up and forced out the question.
"When did this happen?" he asked, gesturing to the two of them. "You know, *this.* When we left Metropolis, everything was normal. And now it's like you two are...are...are a couple. Everyone's talking about it. It's like this accepted fact. They act like you've been together forever. When did this happen? And why didn't you tell me?

Lois and Clark exchanged uncomfortable glances. Lois squirmed, unable to think of a proper response. Her first reaction was to deny everything, but before she could say anything she realized that after dinner and the scene in the bar last night, Jimmy was probably right about the whole conference talking. But on the other hand, she really didn't want to explain the whole embarrassing situation to him. Before she could formulate a response, Clark came to the rescue.
"You're right, Jimmy," he said. "Maybe we should have said something to you earlier, but the whole situation is kind of ... well, complicated."

Lois felt herself begin to flush and she couldn't meet her young co-worker's eyes. Yes, it was definitely complicated, but also totally humiliating. And now Jimmy was going to know what an idiot she had made out of herself with Paul, both in college and by creating a fantasy boyfriend last week. Lois didn't embarrass easily, but right now, she wished the floor would just open up and swallow her whole.

"See, the thing is, Jim, this whole relationship, it's really ... personal. It's also very new and frankly, I haven't wanted to say anything to anyone for fear of jinxing it."

Lois's eyes widened and she lifted her head to look at Clark. He was protecting her secret, even from Jimmy? If they'd been alone, she honestly thought she would have wrapped her arms around him and kissed him out of gratitude.

"That's ridiculous, Clark. You make it sound like it's destiny or fate or something. Men and women are attracted to each other for predictable reasons. And they stay with each other for predictable reasons."

Clark's voice turned harsh, his dark eyes blazing. "Okay, Ms. Logic. Turn around and walk away from me. I won't stop you this time." He folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes.

She looked at him, speechless for once, not moving.

"Go ahead, " he taunted. "You can do it. It's the *logical* thing to do. Just like it was the logical thing to search for me. To risk your life for me."

She stared at him for a moment, her temper rising. How dare he? She did not belong to him. Then, in a swift determined motion, her dark hair swinging, she turned and strode away from him.

She stared at him for a moment, her temper rising. How dare he? She did not belong to him. Then, in a swift determined motion, her dark hair swinging, she turned and strode away from him. She walked about fifty feet, her thoughts and emotions jumbled. What if he was right? He was so stubborn. It was her decision to make; he'd always waited for her to make the decision. He was waiting now. She turned to look back. He was still standing there, his arms crossed and his legs planted slightly apart, Clark Kent Superman. Kal El.

She met his stern eyes and then, for some reason, she had no idea why, she laughed. She laughed at the ridiculousness of their situation and at herself for the inconsistency of her feelings, torn between her need for autonomy and her need to love more than just herself, to love him, and she laughed at his stubbornness. Then she saw the harsh angles of his face soften into a smile of his own, the most wonderful smile.

She began to walk back to him. He met her half way. Standing in front of him, she said, "OK, I figure it'll take a week to organize a small wedding." She poked him in the chest with her index finger. "Next Saturday."

Clark grinned, a magnificent joyful grin that flashed his happiness. Picking her up, he whirled her around and kissed her hard. I told you so," he said as he continued to kiss her. "Woman of my dreams."
He nuzzled her throat, "Forever."

"Clark," her voice was a soft sigh, "Clark."

"So does this mean you'll marry me?"

That woke her up. "Clark, you can't ask me that here, now."

"Why not? Lois..."

"Why not? Clark! What will we tell our kids? You know when they
ask that question that all kids ask, like the one I asked your parents last
night." She quoted her question, "How did Jonathan propose, Martha?" She
continued, "Only our kids are going to be little the first time they ask
it. What are you going to say to them, Clark? "Oh, we were lying stark
naked in the woods after we'd had sex and I popped the question." I don't
think so."

Clark laughed, "So that means yes?"

"Clark," her voice was a warning as she got to her feet. "Don't
you dare..." She stopped, looking around at the bits of clothing that were
strewn in a small circle around them, and then fished out a couple of lacy
scraps. Clark rose to his feet beside her, kissed her lightly, and then
reached over to pick up her shirt.

His eyes were teasing and happy as he helped her on with the shirt,
carefully buttoning it up for her as he spoke. "Okay, I'll do it properly,
later, when we're both fully dressed. Maybe I'll go down on bended knee.
I'll have to think about this, plan it just right," he gestured with his
right hand, sketching an imaginary setting where all this would happen.

Lois looked at him, standing in that small circle of sun in the
woods, the light caressing the muscles of his powerful body as he happily
sketched out what he thought would be a good proposal for children to hear.
He was the most amazing man, she thought. She handed him his shirt.
"Here, cowboy. Put on your shirt and take me to Shuster's field."

Lois shifted uncomfortably, and noticed that her leg was slightly 'asleep'. Her back ached, too. She leaned into the cushions and allowed herself a moment of luxury before bending forward again. It was growing darker; the waning daylight and the light from the street were no longer enough for her to see. She switched on the lamp.

"Lucy and I fought over my teddy bear once. It was a cute bear, a fluffy, light-brown thing that usually sat on my bed. Lucy had her own teddy bear, and every night she fell asleep tightly hugging Mr. Bear. I didn't. I used to put mine anywhere: at the foot of the bed, up beside the pillows, or anywhere it landed when I tossed it on the bed after throwing back the covers. Most mornings I would wake up and find it on the floor. Lucy used to think I was horrid to hurt its poor feelings. How long ago that was!

In my own way, though, I loved my bear. Most of the time it was just another toy, although it was treated with more gentleness, and stayed on the bed long after my other toys were permanently packed into a box in the closet. Some nights, lying in bed with the covers over my head and feeling really upset, I'd clutch it closely, and I would feel strangely comforted.

I loved my bear then."

She lifted her head and looked longingly at the bedroom. On her bed lay an ordinary-looking teddy bear, black and white with a red ribbon around its neck. Even though she couldn't see it from where she was, she knew it was there. The most precious teddy bear in the world.

She held his gaze for as long as he looked at her, ignoring everyone else as he floated above their heads. She felt her heart breaking, but she concentrated on him. Looking at his beloved face, memorizing every line of every feature, holding his gaze as they communicated endlessly through their eyes. It was a brief moment that lasted an eternity.

In a flash, he was gone.

It was too sudden, too real. She hadn't really realized he was going until he *had* gone. Her knees gave way, and she felt a pair of arms holding her up, keeping her from falling.

From far away, she heard a voice saying, "Dearest Lois, a love that risks nothing is worth nothing."

***********

That was a century ago.

She sank into the sofa, enveloped within an eerie sense of unreality.

On an impulse, she took out a notebook and a pen from her bag and began writing.

"A long time ago, Daddy left. Years after, Claude left. And now...

But no, this is different, isn't it? Clark promised me he'd come back - he promised. And I believe him. I know he'll come back, because he promised. Because he has to.

“Are you going to tell me where you’ve been, Clark?”

He thought only a minute before shaking his head. At this point, it wasn’t any of her business. “I’d rather not – ”

“Because you and Superman have both been gone for over six months.” She stared at him, her eyes piercing. “Almost to the day.”

He knew then. She knew. She already knew what he’d come all the way back to Metropolis to tell her.

The sound of the ringing phone woke Clark from a deep sleep. He
rolled over and glanced at the clock. Three AM. Who would be
calling him at three AM?

"Hello, Clark?"

Oh. Of course. "Lois? Are you okay?"

"No! I'm not okay! I was tired but I couldn't fall asleep so I
started watching Ivory Tower and... Oh no! I just told you I
watch Ivory Tower! I can't believe I told you I watch a soap
opera!"

Thought I'd change the quotes game, a bit, if that's okay?

Clark looked out the window and started counting snowflakes as they drifted by. He'd picked out 52 before the next one looked oddly familiar. In fact, it looked an awful lot like snowflake #17. Could it be? ... No, wait. They weren't identical, after all. #17 had a spike that was three thousandths of an inch longer.

"Don't be ridiculous, Clark!" she snapped.
"I think I know the difference between you and..."

Her voice died in her throat. He was standing a step below her, and his face was nearly on a level with hers. It was white and apprehensive... and totally serious.

"Do you, Lois?" he said when she didn't continue. "What's the difference between me and Superman?"

She started as a frigid blast of air suddenly grazed her bare skin where the door beside her had been wrenched violently open. Rough hands grabbed at her arms, yanking her out to stand on the pavement and then she was being pushed up against the side of the Jeep and quite thoroughly kissed by her partner.

His lips forced hers apart, his tongue entering into the slick, hot cavern of her mouth and exploring there in a frenzy. His hands loosened their grip, slid up along her shoulders and up to frame her face in large, protective palms as he deepened the caress.

"Clark...." she blurted dizzily and he frowned, placing his fingers against her lips.

"I don't want to talk," he growled an admonishment and then he replaced his fingers with his mouth and swept away her voice, her thoughts, all self will she possessed. She molded her body pliantly against his strong, masculine curves as she moaned softly, the sound drawn up deeply from the back of her throat. She heard an answering groan from him.

Sorry, Arawn - I didn't mean to offend you.

Lucas came over and sat on the edge of Clark's new desk. "Well, I see they've at least given you a desk and a computer." He raised a brow as he glanced at the retreating form of Cat Grant. "And I see you've met some more of the staff. But now we need to see about getting you into some real investigative reporting."

"Great." Clark felt a strange tingle when Lucas patted him on the shoulder.

"Okay, but before we get started we need to get one thing straight. I like you Kent, you seem like a nice guy, but I'm the senior partner, you are the junior. You aren't working with me, you are working for me. If you are going to learn from me, you'll have to listen. That means that I'll be doing all the talking in our interviews. In this little partnership, I'm the top banana, got it."

Clark opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it. He just couldn't say it.

Then she noticed his costume and realised why his voice was so
distorted. Just her luck. Was there no end to the weird costumes
tonight? Darth Vader?

She began to roll her eyes, but then reminded herself that the
guy had actually done her a favour. At least, she thought, he’d
had the good sense to leave the cape at home. That really would
have been over the top.

She made herself smile at him.

Of course, she couldn’t tell whether he was smiling in return or
not. “I was glad to help. Though I was beginning to think I’d
have to use my light-sabre on him if he didn’t take his hand off
you.”

Lois eyed him, pretending wariness. “You carry that thing with
you? Do you have a licence?”

“Darth Vader does not need a licence!” he pronounced sonorously.
Then he extended his arm towards her. “So... is it just reindeer
you don’t dance with, or men as a species, Ms Anthony? Cause I
wouldn’t want to risk offending a fine suffragette such as
yourself.”

“You sure about this loser of yours? Because I really don’t mind removing him for you. Or maybe the woman you think he’s seeing. It would be no trouble at all. One blast of my light-sabre and poof! They’re history.”

She giggled again. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t object if you wanted to vaporise her.”

“Consider it done,” he promised. It was true anyway; Mayson was history as far as he was concerned.

FROM: “Lucy Lane” < littlesister@metcooksch.7287.edu >
TO: “Lois Lane” < maddoglane@dailyplanetnp.met.r.com >
SUBJECT: Follow these directions CAREFULLY!
DATE: 12 Jul 19:02:29
Follow these directions carefully. Rest assured, there is NO microwave involved. First, you walk over to the oven, which is that thing on the wall next to your window. I believe you’re presently using the handle to the oven door as a rack for your dirty towels. Anyway, there are a couple of dials on the oven and they are critical to the success of any recipe. One dial turns the oven on and one dial sets the temperature. They work best when both are used at the same time. You turn the first little dial to BAKE. You turn the second little dial until shows 350 degrees. The temperature indicator should match up to the little slash mark on the front of your oven. This insures that you have set the oven to the correct temperature.

Next, you take ½ cup of mayo and you put it in a glass measuring cup. It’s always a good idea to actually measure things, Lois, they turn out better that way. Once you have done this, transfer the mayo to a bowl, which is big enough to hold all the other ingredients. Rinse out the glass measuring cup and dry it, okay? You will need it again and it helps if you use a clean measuring cup. (You wouldn’t, by any miracle, have *two* measuring cups on hand? Makes things a lot simpler.) Then, measure out ½ cup of the sour cream. Again, you transfer it to the bowl which has the mayo in it. You’ll be mixing all these ingredients together.

At this point, I really think the artichokes, DRAINED AND CUT UP! should go in the bowl. Since this IS an ARTICHOKE dip, they are rather crucial to the recipe. We don’t need to forget those.

Add 1/3 cup Parmesan cheese which I hope you bought already grated. If didn’t and you bought a block of Parmesan that needs to be grated, my recommendation is to hold the grater in your LEFT hand and the cheese with your RIGHT hand and go S-L-O-W-L-Y. This makes it less likely that you will scrape your knuckles on the grater and get blood in the mixture. (You do have a grater, don’t you?)

Add 1/8 teaspoon of hot sauce to the mix. If you don’t have a measuring spoon that small, just give it ONE squirt. You don’t want to douse the mix and make it inedible!

Finally, you mix it up. Here you can take out all your frustrations about Clark and stir madly for all you’re worth. Pour this mess into a small ovenproof dish (please tell me you have one!) and bake it at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Providing you remembered to turn on the oven, it should be bubbly and hot when done.

FROM: “Lois Lane”< maddoglane@dailyplanetnp.met.r.com >
TO: “Lucy Lane” < littlesister@metcooksch.7287.edu >
SUBJECT: Recipe
DATE: 12 Jul 19:23:04

Lucy,

Sarcasm does NOT become you. Okay. I’ll give it a try. If it doesn’t come out, it’s your fault!

What does it matter why Clark is coming over? What’s important is that I e-mailed you for a recipe and you keep changing the subject! Uhm—sudden thought--Clark mentioned Mayson made a red velvet cake for him. Do you think I could do that?

Lois

FROM: “Lucy Lane” < littlesister@metcooksch.7287.edu >
TO: “Lois Lane” < maddoglane@dailyplanetnp.met.r.com >
SUBJECT: Cake
DATE: 26 Aug 14:09:11

Lois,

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! No.

Lucy

Omigodohmigodohmigodohmigod! Forget all previous e-mails! Clark just told me that his parents will be in town and asked if they could come over, too! I need something that is absolutely foolproof! What do I do? Should I fix a dinner?

Lucy!!!

Are you there? Where are you!?? I’m waiting!

Lois

Hey Lois,

Sorry for the delay. When I read your last e-mail, I had just taken a swig of Coke and I laughed and it came up through my nose and got all over my skirt so I had to change clothes and I couldn’t find anything I liked in my closet so I went to your place and borrowed something of yours. You’re kidding me, right? You wouldn’t seriously consider attempting a dinner, would you?

Lucy (who’s still laughing but not drinking Coke at the same time)

Don’t make me come over there!

Lois

I don’t understand the problem here. Can’t you be honest and tell them that your idea of cooking is to open a box, pour the contents into a bowl, listen for the snap-crackle-pop and eat?

Lucy

No! Superman told Clark I could cook and he probably told his parents. I’ve been to Smallville and eaten Martha’s cooking! She makes Chef Andre look like a donut turner at the Tast-E-O! I remember when Jonathan and Martha switched jobs during one of their visits here. Jonathan supposedly fixed dinner from scratch but instead he snuck in Chinese carryout and tried to pass it off as homemade. Martha knew he’d ordered in and even what Chinese restaurant he’d gotten in from! There is no way I can fake her out! She’s Michelangelo, I’m paint-by-numbers! She’s Julia Child, I’m Mudpies 101. I’m hyperventilating here. Help me out!

Lois

Correction—you never attempted Mudpies 101, remember? You wouldn’t take the time to find perfectly good dirt that was the right consistency for making mudpies.

Lucy

I did TOO look for dirt!

Lois

Yeah, on Mrs. BelCanto!

Lucy

I thought it was funny with a Kerth winner that wasn't archived. Doesn't the author want people to read it

Clark surreptitiously scanned her pack with his X-ray vision and rolled his eyes as he readjusted his glasses. She must have been in a rare snit when she went home to collect her things. Nobody as smart as Lois was could have packed so stupidly otherwise. To supplement her chocolate, she had brought a Tupperware container full of what looked like potato salad, a jello cup and a bag of pretzels. The potato salad would be spoiled in a few more hours, the jello would melt and the pretzels wouldn't last the night. He hoped she liked fresh caught fish.
[…]Clark confessed to having with him a change of shirt and underwear, a book, a pocket knife, a brown bag with a grease spot on the bottom and a couple of cans of pork and beans. When Jimmy pointed out that he had forgotten to bring a can opener, Clark felt appropriately stupid. He really had to do better keeping up with appearances.

"Paul, I guess, was mainly about my pride. I really worshipped him, but I never really knew him. Claude..." she closed her eyes against the memory. "That was probably the most humiliating experience of my life." She began to dig into the wet wood with a thumbnail. "I'd only been at the Planet a few months, and I let myself be seduced by the paper's resident womanizer...why, I don't know...except that I knew I was too young for the job and in way over my head. I thought Perry had been a fool to hire me." She was silent for a moment. "Everyone knew afterwards. Apparently all the other guys on staff lived vicariously through Claude and depended on him for a full story of his conquests. They got it." Viciously, she snapped the twig in two and threw the pieces back into the water.

Clark felt a sudden murderous urge toward the unknown Claude. He sincerely hoped for both their sakes that they never met. He could hear her reluctant hesitation as she haltingly told her story. He knew instinctively that Lois was saying these words aloud for the first time and he understood what it was costing her.

"Well, I've been thinking...I've known you for almost two years now. You're my best friend, but I really don't know that much about you, beyond the obvious things. I mean, I know you like basketball, baseball, the usual guy stuff. I know you eat garbage most of the time, and it doesn't show which means you'll probably die young. You read way too much and you're into the wrong kinds of music. You have a great apartment in a lousy part of town. You like your privacy, you keep people at arms length, but at the same time you let them walk all over you.

"Go on." said Clark, intrigued by her assessment.

"Well, you have a secret love of weird, useless facts. You mow some old lady's lawn every week. You actually seem to get along with your parents. You must have an incredible nightlife, 'cause you're almost never there when I call.

For a half an hour she remained motionless on the sofa, waiting. Around her the sounds of life were nearly deafening. The steady hum of the fish tank’s aerator. The sounds of the traffic in the street below. The click of the clock as the minutes ticked past.

Nothing. No whispers. Nothing at all but the beating of her own heart.

Maybe it had been the stress. Or maybe she really had been going crazy to think Clark had ever spoken to her across the cosmos. She didn’t know or really care.

She only knew that she finally had to accept that whatever it had been, it had stopped. She couldn’t hear him anymore, and he couldn’t hear her.

Silent tears flowed down her cheeks as she fed the fish and double checked the locks. She no longer sobbed. Being loud in her misery didn’t lessen the pain at all, she’d learned after suffering days of aching ribs and near laryngitis.

The sleeping pills were starting to work their magic, her head growing thick and heavy. She trudged back to the bedroom, wading through the clothes littering the floor. She’d forgotten to stop at the dry cleaners yet again. Which meant she had nothing to wear to work the next day. With a withering glance at the maroon suit draped over the chair, she sighed. She’d already worn it once that week because it was the least wrinkled thing in her closet. It would have to do again. No one would dare remark about it. Even if they did, she didn’t care.

Without bothering to brush her teeth, she dropped into bed, wincing at the bunched blankets and linens underneath her. Maybe she’d actually make it in the morning, the way she used to. Maybe not.

"Here, read this."

Perry looked up at Lois who was holding a sheet of paper under his nose. He took the page and asked, "What is this?"

"It's an article that just came over the wire."

Perry read the first couple of paragraphs, then looked back up at Lois. "Our foreign correspondent already submitted an article on this."

"Just finish it, please?" Lois asked, impatiently.

"I don't have to read it. We don't need two articles on the same subject."

"The subject's not important," she insisted. "Please just read it." Lois waited with her hands on her hips while Perry read through the article. "Well?"

"Okay, it's a good article, but we still don't need it."

"No," she sighed. "It's him. It's got his style written all over it. Don't you see it?"

"Clark."

The arms stiffened.

"Clark, it's you."

She heard him expel a soft breath, but he didn't answer.

"This isn't Superman holding me," she said with finality. "This is Clark."

When he still didn't say anything, she reached up and pulled off the blindfold that had ironically opened her eyes.

The faint glint of starlight left his face in shadow. She wished she could see his expression.

"Where are we?" she asked softly, postponing the inevitable flurry of questions.

"Centennial Park," he answered mechanically. "No one comes here at night any more; it's too dangerous."

"So you could land without being seen," she concluded.

Without replying, he gently lifted her off his lap and set her down on the grass. The two of them simply sat there, looking at each other in the chilly darkness.

"I'm sorry," she finally said. Those two words carried the weight of everything: her regret that she'd forced his hand, her empathy for the tremendous burden of responsibility that he carried, her sympathy for the lonely life he must lead in such a constrained existence.

He must have understood, for she caught the swift white gleam of his teeth as he smiled briefly. "I'm not sorry you're alive," he parried gently.

She smiled despite herself. "Well, I appreciate that." She reached out slowly, ready to stop if he flinched away, and removed his glasses. She set them carefully on the grass and studied as much of his face as she could in the dim light.

He seemed almost amused by her scrutiny. "Do you think I'd look better with contacts?"

She picked up the glasses and shook her head. "Clark doesn't wear his glasses when he's wearing his Superman suit," she said by way of explanation. She stopped short as she realized what she'd just said.

Clark Kent was Superman.

*Her* Clark Kent was Superman.

"Clark --" she unconsciously shifted a few inches closer to
him. "Clark, he obviously doesn't know about you. Maybe you
*can* stop him somehow."

"Lois, thank you for the vote of confidence, but I don't think
so."

"Why not?" she demanded. "You have the abilities. You just
never put on a red cape."

"Let's not forget the blue tights," Clark said dryly. "Or the
red underwear, for that matter."

"But Clark, don't you *see*? If you *do* become Superman, you
can stop this!"

His expression showed his exasperation. "Lois, how exactly can
I stop him, just by putting on that awful suit?"

"It's not awful! It's -- eye-catching, that's all!" She nodded
emphatically. "Besides, it's so much more than that. It's the
idea behind it, Clark. It's a symbol. You're making yourself
into a beacon!"

He looked at her for a long moment, as if not quite sure she
was actually finished. "Are you always like this?"

She flushed, suddenly realizing that she'd gotten a little
carried away. "I'm sorry. I'm a little high-strung sometimes, I
think."

"A little?" He laughed. "Lois, you're a Stradivarius!" He
sobered and shook his head. "Besides, I am most definitely not
putting on that suit."

"Why not?"

He took a deep breath. "Look. You seem to have this incredibly
relaxed attitude towards my abilities, but not everyone is
going to look at it that way. I've always made sure to hide
what I can do."

Lois winced. "So you never have a chance to be yourself?"

"Okay, I'll give you that one. It's not the most popular choice but it's technically correct." A gentle smile rewarded her before she leaned back to rest her hand on his shoulder again.

Her hands froze as she desperately wanted to give him a shoulder rub but didn't know how to begin. The big guy didn't seem very tense. As a matter of fact, the only time he'd ever seemed tense was when *she* was in danger or challenging him in regard to her safety. Clark seemed to thrive on their other disagreements. He would invariably end up with a silly smirk on his face no matter what the outcome of the argument. At first it had annoyed her -- she always ended up madder at him, particularly when he was right -- but lately, especially the past few days, she had given in a lot sooner than normal. It wasn't worth all the fuss to be at odds with Clark, not after the devastation she'd felt when she thought he had died.

Now as her hands lay on his shoulders, the warmth of his flesh beneath the smooth fabric seemed to be keeping them there like a magnet. Still, it was hard to take the next step. A neck massage was way more intimate than bringing someone coffee or leaning over their shoulder, yet he did that for her all the time and she never complained.

A tentative squeeze to start, then another and soon she was working her way along his shoulders up to his neck. His head dropped down in relaxation, exposing more of his well-groomed and heavily-muscled neck to her.

She worked her way lower down his back, until she could feel him tensing up once more. She must not be doing a good job... this was supposed to be relaxing. Now she could feel him sucking in his breath as she lightened her touch in response. Biting her lip in frustration, she couldn't believe that she was making him tight when he had already been relaxed, but she couldn't give up on showing she cared now.

She slowed her massage to just rubbing the back of his neck, then patted his shoulders before withdrawing her touch.

"All done," he said, smiling, after sending their story to Perry a couple of minutes later. He shut off his computer and twirled in his chair to look at her. His dark brown eyes softened at the sight of her and he regarded her curiously. She returned his gaze with a shy smile, then glanced downward, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

Tempus had managed to work his way to within a couple of feet of Lois... and the gun. Clark closed the distance between them and Lois pointed the gun back and forth from one to the other. “Stay back!” she cried.

“You can’t trust him, Lois. He’s evil,” Clark tried to reason with her.

“I assure you that you can trust me, Ms. Lane. I want out of here as much as you do,” Tempus said smoothly, trying to corrupt her with his words. Clark could see why he kept trying to be a politician, he was good at it.

Clark was beginning to feel panicky. He had to get that gun away from her and it didn’t look like she was going to relinquish it, no matter how hard he tried to reason with her. She didn’t trust him and she had no reason to... she didn’t know him. But he couldn’t just let her walk out of here with Tempus, and he couldn’t let Tempus get his hands on that gun.

He realized what he had to do. He was going to have to physically take the gun away from her. He hated it. Hated the thought of pitting himself against her.

She would hate him for it.

He sighed. This was the woman he wanted to love, the woman he had searched for, and she was going to despise him.

Walking slowly along the road leading to Lois's apartment block, Clark silently asked himself, for about the thousandth time that week, just what almighty powers he and Lois had managed to offend. Surely no two other people could have had such a run of bad luck - no, a disastrous run of catastrophes - as the two of them. They should have been married now, and just back at work after their honeymoon in Hawaii. Instead, they were definitely *not* married, and were still trying to come to terms with the consequences of their wedding-that-wasn't.

Within fifteen minutes, Clark had managed to carry all of the passengers of the bus and the truck driver safely to the paramedics without any loss of life. As he righted the tractor- trailer, he breathed a sigh of relief that he had managed to arrive at the scene in time.

Placing the badly damaged potato chip truck on its wheels and out of traffic's way, he turned his attention to the bus. This would be more complicated. People's belongings had been scattered across the cabin and before moving anything, he wanted to make sure he did not cause any further damage to anyone's luggage.

At superspeed, he cleaned the compartment and safely stowed all of the bags and boxes. It wasn't until he was sliding a powder blue carryon into the upper compartment that he slowed to a stop as his eyes focused on a picture laying further up the aisle, almost hidden by the seats.

The world froze as he stepped slowly towards the photo, in awe of his apparent discovery. Bending to pick it up, he realized his first glance had not been mistaken.

Lois Lane was in this picture, smiling back at him. Her hair was longer than the Lois he had known, though he knew from her personnel file that she favored longer hair. She looked so happy, so relaxed that for a moment, he was sure he would be powerless to stop any tears that elected to show themselves at this moment.

Lois raised a hand to touch his face, as if to satisfy herself that what she was seeing was real. "You don't look a day older than my Clark."

Her Clark. His past self, who was her husband, who at this very moment was assisting with the cleanup operations around Japan. The Clark who was the father of her baby.

He had been that Clark, once, but not anymore. That Clark had belonged to Lois -- still belonged to her. The Clark he was now belonged to Lori.

Everybody in the family has a story on how they found out about
Dad. Mom isn't really quick to relate hers to us kids, except to say
that it was wonderful and scary at the same time. I suspect it was a
very private and emotional thing for both her and Dad, so I don't pry.
My brother told me how he found out once. He was pretty traumatized by
it - he caught Mom and Superman in bed, I guess, and put two and two
together when Mom called Superman "Clark" in a fit of passion. Let me
just be the first to say that looking in on my folks IN BED is not
something I would ever imagine my brother doing, but I give him points
for admitting to it. My sister just found out the family secret last
week, and I'm not really sure how that went down since I was here in
Gotham at the time. The list goes on.

Oh no. She'd recognized him. His wild dreams of playing the anonymous hero, finally able to use his powers in the open, had been dashed at his feet. "Better explain yourself
quickly, Kent..." he thought to himself. "Well, I, uhm... that is...." Clark stammered, confused and off-balance, frantically trying to come up with a reasonable explanation.

"Well, Lois, to tell you the truth, this isn't dancing."

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

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

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

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

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

"But...but..." Oh, this was just no good at all! How was she going to talk to him if she just kept repeating the same words over and over?

He seemed to understand her dilemma, and he leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Lois, I've dreamed of dancing with you like this for so long. Just finish this dance with me, please?" he pleaded softly. "Then we can talk." He nipped gently at her earlobe. "I promise."

The child looked at him in astonishment. "It's a
waltz! Don't you know how to waltz?"
Clark shook his head. "I only know what I learned back
in Kansas."
"Kansas? What kind of dances do they do in Kansas?"
The child seemed genuinely interested.
"Well, mostly line and square dancing," Clark admitted.
"Square dancing!" The little girl's eyes flashed with
excitement. "You know how to square dance? Can you teach
me? Please!" She grasped his hand and started to pull him
toward the dance floor.
Clark gently resisted her insistence, so as not to hurt
her. "This isn't the right kind of music."

[who still wishes she were around more than once every couple months]

I *DID* send a fic to the archives this afternoon...

Omigod! She'd killed Clark!!

Lois leaned out the window as far as possible to take a good look at Clark as he lay face down on the ground. To her relief, she saw his legs move, and that was all she needed to prompt her to try to climb out the window and get down to him.

"I'm coming, Clark!" she yelled as her legs dangled over the ledge. "Don't go anywhere." The drop was straight down three stories and Lois caught herself just as she was about to jump.

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?"

"I would imagine that it's been pretty scary at times today. Waking up to find yourself unable to move or even speak would terrify most people. Don't be so hard on yourself. You're going to be fine, but it may take a day or two to get back to normal." She smiled sympathetically. "If you want to cry, go ahead. I won't tell anyone."

Stunned that Nurse O'Brien had seen through him so clearly, Clark remained speechless.

Plumping his pillows, she continued, "Now, before I leave you, is there anything you want or need? How about something cold to drink? Is ginger ale all right?"

He nodded. "That would be fine, thank you." He added as the thought struck him, "Could you please ask one of the policemen out there to contact Inspector Henderson for me? I need to talk to him."
"Certainly." With a final plump of his pillow, she left the room. "Be right back with that soda."

Left alone, Clark wondered at his reactions to the events of the day. It dawned on him that he did want his mother. If he could only see her, he knew she would help him put things into perspective. Her calm, good sense would bring some order to the chaos that was his life at the moment. Tears rose again in his throat. Maybe Nurse O'Brien was right. Perhaps he should give in to his desire to weep. He could hardly feel worse, and it might help. Clark turned his face into the pillow and let out the sob that had been choking him.

"Lo...is," he began.

"Don't start that," she snapped.

"Start what?" he asked in a plaintive voice.

"Don't start with that tone you get when you're humoring me. I'm worried about your health. In case you have forgotten, you almost died this morning. I don't think you should overdo it today."

"No, I haven't forgotten. But I really do feel amazingly better. This sun seems to be helping me a lot." He took her hand. "Have I thanked you for saving my life?" His lips twisted. "It's not supposed to be that way, though."

"Yes, you have, several times. You're very welcome." She looked at him, curiosity evident in her gaze. "What's not supposed to be what way?

"You're not supposed to save me. I'm the one who does the saving, you know?"

"Usually. But that's what being partners is all about, isn't it? One stepping in when the other can't? Backing each other up?" She smiled. "And saving each others' lives when necessary?"

Clark rubbed his thumb over her palm. "I guess so. But it still bothers me ... that you had to save my life. What if you'd needed me today?"

"I did need you today. Why do you think I decked Diana?"

The Man of Steel succumbed to her logic. "Okay. If you say so. Please tell me it's four o'clock, and I can get out of here. I have things to do and people to see."

Lois stood at the door leading to her small backyard. It seemed like
ages since she'd been happy here. She could clearly remember nights
spent on the patio with her husband, sharing wine or dinner over
conversation or the latest story they were working on. She could even
recall the night they made up after their first big fight. Those times
seemed like years ago now.

So much had happened in the last few years. Finding out Clark was
Superman, which was a good thing since she was in love with both men.
She didn't have to give up her fantasy because she'd chosen to have a
life with her best friend. They'd taken forever to get married, over a
year. This brownstone was their first home. It held many memories, some
good, some bad. It was here they shared passionate nights together. It
was here they found out they couldn't have children. It was here she
remained when Clark walked out of her life. And it was also here where
she found out Dr. Klein's fertility tests were wrong. Kryptonians were
indeed compatible with Earthlings. At least Clark was compatible with
Lois. She was rubbing the proof in her very pregnant belly.

Lois would deliver hers and Clark's baby in three short months. She
would also raise that baby alone. Clark had made it clear that he could
not, or more to the point, would not be part of the baby's life. In
fact, he'd told her to abort it. She had slapped his face hard for that
one. She could still remember that painful night so well.

Leaning up against the doorframe to her room was Clark. Her mouth
curved into a smile as she approached.

"When I take a date home, I walk her to the door," Clark
explained, his smile meeting hers.

"Really. And how did you know this was my room?"

"I heard the receptionist give you the room number."

"You did, did you? And I suppose you just..." She made a wavy
motion with her hand. "...onto the roof and then zipped down the
stairs. All for the purposes of making sure I got home okay?"

Clark blushed slightly, which Lois found absolutely adorable.
"Well, I did sort of hope I might get a goodnight kiss. Isn't
that standard at the end of a first date?"

"Depends," Lois said, her smile threatening to take over her
entire face, "on how good the date was."

"Oh, I see. So how did I rate? Was it good enough to warrant a
goodnight kiss?"

The canvas slid from her shoulders but the cold draught circulating around the cavern was useless to cool down the fire that Clark's hands were setting on her. Her wet clothes were clinging to her skin, spreading a welcome warmth through her where they connected with those of her partner, and she pushed him up against the rock behind him, shifting to a more comfortable position on his lap.

Her restless attitude pulled Clark back to a reality he'd lost touch of, and he broke off their kiss, gasping for breath and trying to ignore the lump in his throat as Lois unclasped her hands from his nape to run her palms down his chest. An irrepressible need to feel her touch his bare skin took hold of him, and biting his lip and clenching his fists did little to restrain his so far uninhibited desire.

From her vantage position, she was looking down at him with a predatory expression that he wouldn't have expected from her. It wasn't enough to make him shy away from her, and he knew that the same light was shining in his eyes, burning like a consuming flame between them and urging him to pounce. The more reasonable part of his mind that had been urging him to run away was evaporating in the heat of the moment.

Her name escaped his lips in a sigh that barely made it past his mouth before she was capturing it in another devastating kiss, and he was lost to the world. He shivered uncontrollably when her fingers found their way under his t-shirt and grazed the wet skin of his chest.