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From Part 15:Clark!” she said as he blinked and looked at her. “Falling asleep?”
“Uh... no,” he admitted. “I was just distracted for a minute. Sorry.”
“Good,” she said decisively. “We need to talk, and I think we’d better do it now.”
Startled, Clark stared at her. Had he been wrong? Did she want to discuss their kiss after all? Or... was it just that she was regretting her near-deathbed confidences and wanted to make sure that he’d never breathe a word of any of it?
“You don’t have to worry, Lois. I won’t say a thing...” he began.
But she cut across him, her words striking fear into his heart.
“You did some pretty amazing things tonight. You thought I didn’t notice, but I did. Just who - or what - are you, Clark Kent?”
********
Now read on...She hadn’t been sure. Not completely; it had been speculation and - one of her trademarks - reaching. But the look on Clark’s face as she finished speaking told her that she’d been absolutely right.
He looked like a wild animal trapped with no escape. His eyes held panic, fear and the burning desire to escape; she could almost sense him casting around for any means of fleeing. Even as she watched him, his eyes flicked from side to side. Was he debating the merits of simply leaping from the Jeep and running? But what good would that do him?
She’d had the past five hours to mull over in her mind all of the events of the night - *all* of them, including things which had at the time just appeared to be weird coincidences. Just how *had* he got them out of that shed? Even at the time, she hadn’t believed his story about there being a weak link in the chains. She’d tried the chains herself when she’d been tied up; there hadn’t been anything weak at all about their fastenings. She’d barely had room to move - so how had he managed to manoeuvre himself so that he could hold her? And kiss her?
And then there’d been their miraculous escape. Not just the fact that he’d somehow managed to break the unbreakable chains, but the speed at which they’d ended up out of the shed and on the other side of the compound altogether. She’d been distracted at the time, true; but she knew that she’d been vaguely conscious of something rather like rushing wind, and a sensation of moving at an incredible speed. Something like being propelled along on one of those runaway trains at a theme park.
When she’d been able to see what had happened, she’d been in his arms. Clark had been holding her, with little apparent effort on his part, it seemed. Okay, he was tall and muscular, so lifting her wouldn’t be much of a problem for him; but running out of the shed with her in his arms and then standing holding her - and not even being short of breath? Something wasn’t quite right there.
Other coincidences had also begun to look less coincidental: all those mysterious happenings in Baines’ office, for instance. A light which had suddenly blown out. A book falling off a shelf. A desk lamp falling over. Other things: alarms disabled rather too easily, security lights which had suddenly failed, a file found in less time than she could possibly have managed.
Yes, there was definitely something different about Clark Kent. And his reaction to her question had just proved it.
Lois had never believed in the paranormal. So-called psychics sent her kookie-alert up to full blast. ‘New-age’ gurus left her rolling her eyes. And yet here she was all but accepting that Clark Kent was capable of some sort of... well, telekinesis was the only possible explanation she could think of.
It sounded crazy - it *was* crazy! But how else could she explain what she *knew* had been going on?
“Lois... I...” Finally, he spoke, but seemed completely at a loss as to what to say. Then he sighed and said, “You’d better come inside. We can’t talk in here.”
Remembering what his room had looked like, Lois grimaced. “I’d say we’d be more comfortable right where we are! That place is a flea-pit!”
“I know.” He looked even more uncomfortable, if that were possible. “I’m - I was - looking for an apartment to rent.”
Making a sudden decision, Lois started the engine again. “We can talk at my place.”
*********
Clark slumped into his seat as Lois executed a U-turn, steering the Jeep back into the street and towards her apartment. After all his caution, all the lectures and good advice from his parents. After little more than a week in Metropolis, in the best job he’d ever had, he’d given himself away. He’d revealed his secret, and not to just anyone, either.
No; he’d had to reveal it to the top investigative journalist in the city. A woman known for her refusal ever to let go of a scoop.
She’d make mincemeat of him.
She’d hang him out to dry. In the full public gaze of Metropolis.
He wanted to jump out of her car right now. Fly to Smallville, tell his parents what had happened, and then fly straight to the other side of the world. Change his name - he’d done that before, too - and start again.
But he owed it to his parents at least to try to persuade Lois to be circumspect. He had no hope that she’d keep her knowledge to herself, but if she at least agreed to give him a false name so that his parents wouldn’t be identified, that would help...
Though, he reminded himself, she had no proof at the moment. Only suspicions. And he hadn’t said anything to confirm them.
Or had he? He hadn’t denied it. He’d been unable to come up with anything at all to say, hadn’t he? And Lois was too clever not to have drawn her own conclusions from his reaction and his no doubt panicked and guilty expression.
Okay. She knew - well, she knew enough to be certain that there was something different about him. But she had no proof; nothing that she could take to the Planet and have Perry print. He guessed that if she went to the editor with what she had so far, Perry would laugh in her face and direct her to the National Whisper, with its weekly tales of alien invasion and how Elvis Presley was living in someone’s back yard and serving lattes at the Moondoe’s down the road.
So he should talk to her, find out how much she knew and how much was guesswork, and then he could quietly make arrangements to leave Metropolis before she was able to trap him into anything that *would* give her proof.
After all, what could she possibly know for sure? Very little. She had no idea, for instance, that he might be a government experiment or an alien. She couldn’t possibly know that he could fly.
Yes. That was what he should do. If he took the offensive...
Taking the offensive. Suddenly, Clark had an idea...
********
Lois led the way into her apartment, shutting the door behind Clark as he joined her. For a minute there in her Jeep, she’d wondered if he was on the point of bolting, and she’d almost reached for the central locking control; but then he’d seemed to relax and she’d decided not to bother.
Just what was he? Who was he? How had he managed to do all of those strange things? What was he doing in Metropolis, working as a reporter, if he could do the sort of things he’d done tonight? Surely he could make much more money - and achieve fame too, if that appealed to him - by making his powers, or whatever they were, public?
Or he could do it by turning to a life of crime, using his abilities, whatever they were, to help him. Though admittedly that didn’t sound like the Clark Kent she knew; the Clark Kent who’d even tried to dissuade ‘Larry Long’ away from car-theft.
*How* was he able to do all those things? And just what had he done, anyway? Was it telekinesis? Or something more easily explained?
She turned to him, ready to release her barrage of questions.
“Lois, why do you think you’re not attractive?” he asked before she could say a word.
Lois blinked. What had that got to do with anything? “I don’t know what you’re talking ab - Look, we came here to talk about you!”
“But I want to talk about you,” he said blandly, but his expression suggested that he wouldn’t be distracted from his question. “Why, Lois? You have to know how attractive you are. What makes you think otherwise?”
“I don’t!” she protested, stung. “Clark, this isn’t about me -”
“I find you very attractive,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “I was amazed that you didn’t realise that.”
She was fast losing control of this conversation, Lois realised. “Clark, we need to talk about you! Like, just how did you manage to do all those things tonight?”
“I’d rather talk about you,” he countered. “And the fact that you kissed me earlier.”
“Hey! You were the one doing the kissing, buster!” Lois objected.
“And you were the one kissing me back.” He grinned at her. “You’re not going to try to deny it, are you?”
“I...” she began, then floundered, looking away. That kiss. That scorching, passionate, intense kiss...
She’d thought she was going to die! That they were both going to be blown to smithereens - incinerated - in a matter of minutes! It was hardly surprising that she’d kissed him back, was it? Given the circumstances, anything that had taken her mind off her fate would have been grabbed with both hands.
That was all it had been. A kiss borne of fear and desperation. Nothing more.
Then she focused her gaze on Clark again. And realised instantly that doing so had been a mistake.
His brown eyes, the eyes she’d found so compelling from the first moment she’d met ‘Charlie King’, gazed at her. They held memories of passion and longing, of fiery attraction. And she knew, looking at him, that he’d kiss her again if she gave him even the slightest encouragement.
And she wanted him to kiss her again.
No! This was *not* what they were there to discuss!
What was this man doing to her? Hypnotising her?
Was that it? Could it be that part of the explanation for the incredible things he’d been able to do was that he was skilled in hypnosis? And now, was he trying to use his power to persuade her to forget about what she knew about him?
And just what other powers might he have? With a sense of shock, it occurred to her that if his abilities were based on psychic powers - even though it still went against her nature to believe that - then he might also be telepathic.
Could he read her thoughts?
Was that how he knew that she was attracted to him? And... if so... what else did he know about her?
She wanted to sink through the floor in humiliation.
She *had* to get back to the subject of what he could do, and how!
“Clark...” she began weakly, but then dragged her gaze from his compelling stare and found her resolve. That was it. He’d clearly been hypnotising her simply by keeping her gaze focused on his. And making her remember their kiss... making her want to repeat the experience.
She *did* want to repeat the experience...
“Clark, stop this,” she insisted, dragging up the mental strength to keep her voice firm. “I want to know how you did the things you did tonight. How you got us out of that shed. And how you escaped from the fire in Baines’ office unscathed. How you manage to move so quickly - or fool people into thinking that. And why all those lights blew out... and everything else.”
********
Clark sighed deeply, resignedly. He’d tried very hard to distract her from her chosen course, behaving in a way which was totally uncharacteristic for him; he’d expected at any moment that Lois might slap his face or yell at him for the way he was coming on to her. Mentioning things he knew full well that she wanted to forget. Behaving like a predator.
Obviously, he hadn’t been very good at it. If he had been, she wouldn’t have reverted to the reason he was here in her apartment in the first place. He was dealing with Mad Dog Lane, but still, it had to be possible. Of course, someone better at playing those sort of games than himself would no doubt have taken the initiative even further, distracted her thoroughly by kissing her again.
Not that he hadn’t been tempted... but he hadn’t quite been able to find the nerve to do it. And now, after all his efforts, they were back on the subject of himself again. And what he could do - what he had done.
She’d noticed an awful lot more than he’d thought. His backup plan had been to try to convince her that whatever she’d thought she’d seen had been her imagination and no more. But it was going to be darned difficult to persuade her of that with so many questions in her mind.
There was nothing for it. He’d have to tell her the truth, or at least some of it, and start making his contingency plans.
“Okay, Lois. You want to know; I’ll tell you,” he said heavily.
“At last! It’s telekinesis, it’s it? And hypnotism?”
“Huh?” Clark stared at her. “You’re kidding! No... I don’t have any kind of... of psychic powers. I’m not even sure anything like that exists.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m not really sure how to explain it,” he said awkwardly. “I... you’re the first person I’ve even had to try to explain it to.”
Lois hesitated, then said, “Let me make some coffee. Then we can sit down, and *you* can talk, buster!”
*********
...tbc
