Table of Contents Well, my hard-working beta-reader did a fantastic job and sent me back this section tonight. So here's part 28, and a HUGE thanks to Yvonne for her speedy and very helpful work! This is a longer part than usual, which I hope will go some way towards making up for the long delay between instalments. Tell me what you think!From Part 27:“Apartment-hunting?” Lois interrupted before Clark could answer.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Come on - you didn’t think I’d stay in that flea-pit indefinitely, did you? Once I knew I’d be staying, I started looking, but finding anything in Metropolis to rent that’s both decent *and* affordable isn’t easy. And I’ve been pretty busy over the past couple of days,” he added, directing his comment to his parents. “So I haven’t really had time to get out and look at anything.”
“Should’ve told me,” Lois said calmly. “I could’ve found something for you in no time.”
“Really?”
“Of course!” She gave him a look as if to say that he should have known that. “Have you seen my contacts list, Clark? I know guys who know guys... and let’s say that some of these guys owe me favours. Look, I’ll make a few calls tomorrow and see what happens, but I bet you’ll end up with a great apartment in less than two days. Deal?!
Clark shook his head. “I know better than to bet against you! Thanks, Lois. I appreciate it.”
She grinned. “Hey, I get something out of it, too. You imagine I want to keep risking my car wheels picking you up from the Apollo?”
*********
Now read on...Clark insisted on wearing his new uniform under his clothes on the journey back to Metropolis later that night. Although Lois argued that he shouldn’t risk being seen flying as Clark Kent, he reminded her that they wanted to be able to choose for themselves when Superman would make his first appearance.
To Lois’s surprise, both of Clark’s parents hugged her warmly. Martha even urged her to get Clark to bring her to dinner again soon.
“I really like your parents, Clark,” she told him as he scooped her up into his arms in the back yard and drifted slowly into the air.
“And they really like you,” he said, then grinned at her. “What did I tell you?”
“Don’t be smart, Kent!” she retorted, but then softened. “I really didn’t expect that kind of reaction, Clark. Not after the way I was when we met. But apart from that... well, they’re so
normal!”
She noticed him frown. “You mean that to be my parents they’d have to be... well, weird or something? Like me?”
“Clark!” Lois thumped his upper arm, then winced. “No, I did *not* mean that! I just meant... well, you’d have to meet my parents to understand what I meant, I guess. They’re... anything but normal.”
He must have heard the wistfulness in her voice, for his arms tightened around her briefly. “That’s sad,” he said quietly. “But, you know, I’m not sure I agree with you that my folks are normal either. They’re... extraordinary. I mean, what ordinary couple would take in a baby they found in a spaceship and bring him up as their own son? And never bat an eyelid at all the weird things that kid grows up doing? They’re incredible people, Lois. And I owe them everything.”
The love which had radiated from Martha Kent when she’d spoken of her son earlier was quite definitely reciprocated, Lois could see. And she envied Clark once more.
He’d be amazed if she told him that, Lois thought with an inward smile; although he clearly loved his parents, he seemed to feel that his differences had made his childhood more difficult than that of most kids. She wondered what he’d think of hers: a womanising father, who’d barely been around the family home before he’d finally abandoned it for his latest mistress; a mother who’d turned to alcohol to hide her feelings of abandonment and worthlessness; two teenage girls largely left to bring themselves up. And then the experience of having to fight for what she wanted to study at college as opposed to what her father wanted her to do, together with having lived all her life with the knowledge that as far as Sam Lane was concerned she’d been born the wrong sex and that nothing she ever did could satisfy her father or make him believe that she was good enough.
She was finally putting all of that behind her, though - and having Clark around was a very great part of that. With Clark she didn’t feel as if she had to prove anything. He’d respected her professional ability right from the start, and she’d never had the feeling that he was trying to compete or to prove something around her.
Unlike other male reporters Perry had paired her with over the years - until he’d accepted that she didn’t want a partner - she knew that Clark wasn’t just hoping that she’d make a mistake or get something wrong just so that he could claim credit for getting it right. And even when he had helped her, by assembling and interpreting Dr Platt’s notes, he hadn’t acted as if he’d done her an enormous favour and he wanted her to admit that he was better than her; he’d just done it because he’d seen that she was exhausted and needed some assistance.
Clark was the perfect partner - and the perfect friend. And, she thought, the only man she’d ever met that she could imagine wanting to live with permanently. She’d been in love before, but never like this. Never confident that the man she loved also loved her - and although Clark hadn’t said so, something told her that he did. Maybe it was the way he looked at her sometimes, when he thought she wasn’t watching; or the way, in his behaviour and in his whole manner towards her, he cherished her. Never feeling secure that the man she loved wouldn’t betray her in some way. Clark, she felt, hadn’t a deceitful bone in his body. He was loyal and steadfast - she’d seen the way he was with his parents. A man like that would treat his partner - girlfriend? wife? - with the same respect, love and loyalty.
He nudged her suddenly, and she realised that in her introspection she was missing the flight. It was dark now, and the landscape was spread out below in patches of shadow, punctuated by long, winding ribbons of light. The sheer beauty of it caused her to gasp.
“You okay?” Clark asked, sounding amused.
“You mean other than awe-struck?”
He laughed, then added, “I guess I’m used to this by now. I forget what it must be like for someone seeing it for the first time.”
“It’s not as if I haven’t flown before, of course,” she explained quickly. “But this is
nothing like seeing the view from the tiny window on a plane. I can’t imagine ever taking this for granted,” Lois murmured. “Even if you take me flying dozens of times.”
Turning to look at him, she could see his smile, a flash of white teeth in the darkness. “Shtick with me, baby, and you’ll forget there ever was another way to fly,” he drawled in a bad impression of a gangster accent. Lois laughed with him.
************
He was flying more slowly than usual, mostly so that Lois could appreciate the majesty of the view spread beneath them, but also so that he could prolong the sensation of holding her in his arms.
He was in love.
Loving Lois was nothing whatsoever like the insipid teenage infatuation he’d had for Lana Lang. That relationship, those feelings, he’d built up in his mind over the years until he’d imagined that it was some sort of grand passion. And as such, Lana’s rejection had been magnified in its importance until he’d believed that if
she, the woman he’d loved and who’d loved him, couldn’t have accepted him as he really was, then no woman could.
Now, of course, Lois had shown him how wrong he’d been. He’d been wrong, too, in ways she hadn’t pointed out, and yet somehow he knew that she was equally aware of them. He’d simply assumed that Lana, talking in the abstract, would have behaved in the same way if she’d been confronted with the reality of having an alien for a boyfriend. Who knew how she’d have reacted if she’d been told that Clark, her childhood friend and then boyfriend, could be from another planet? That was a very different proposition from encountering a complete stranger and discovering that he was an alien.
Second, of course, Lana had been a teenager, just like him, and he should never have placed so much reliance on the unthinking words of a sixteen-year-old. Teenagers thought they knew everything, he reflected. And then as they grew older, they realised just how much they didn’t know.
Lois didn’t care where he came from. She accepted him - maybe even loved him, if by some amazing chance he really did turn out to be the luckiest man alive - just as he was. Lois -
Abruptly, he snapped out of his thoughts. Something was happening below. He stopped flying, floating in mid-air, and focused on the ground hundreds of feet below them.
“What is it, Clark?” Lois asked, sounding puzzled.
They were almost at Metropolis, and what he was looking at was the west side of the city’s orbital freeway. “A pile-up,” he explained. “Looks like a couple of trucks and several cars - I think there’re people trapped. And -” He paused, focusing his vision and hearing on the scene beneath. “ - one of the trucks is carrying gasoline.”
He heard Lois inhale sharply. “That could blow!”
“I know.” He took a deep breath himself. “I think I need to help...”
“Superman!” Lois said quickly.
“Huh?”
“This is it. Your big debut!”
Struck by her suggestion, he considered the possibility. To act in his new guise, instead of trying to do what he could covertly, risking discovery... On the other hand, he wasn’t sure that he was ready to go public yet. He hadn’t planned, thought about it, psyched himself up for it...
“Think about it!” she added as he didn’t immediately respond. “You can do so much more to help if you’re not trying to make sure no-one sees you.”
“Yes.” It made so much sense. He had to do it, lack of preparation regardless. “Let me put you somewhere safe first, okay?”
“No, you don’t, buster!” Lois exclaimed. “The deal is Lane and Kent get the exclusive on Superman’s first appearance, remember? You take me with you. You save the lives, I’ll write the story.”
“Got it,” he agreed, a broad grin on his face, and swooped downwards.
Where could he land safely, without being seen? There were too many people about. On the other hand, it was dark - well, dark apart from all the lights at the scene. And they were both wearing dark-coloured clothing, too.
“There.” He realised that Lois was pointing at something. “Just behind the exit ramp - it’s dark enough, isn’t it? And at least this is a less built-up area.”
He nodded. “That works.” The lack of buildings was fortunate for him. Only a mile further along the Lex Luthor Freeway - now, he just bet that a name-change would be on the agenda of the city council’s next meeting! - there were a couple of motels, three gas stations and half a dozen or so fast-food outlets.
It was dark, and it was also easy to get to without being seen. In under a second, he had landed and was allowing Lois to slide to the ground. Glancing down at himself, he debated briefly - rip off his outer clothes? Undress normally? Speed was clearly of the essence here, but at the same time he felt... awkward about undressing in front of Lois. Which was crazy! He would only be stripping down to the blue and red uniform, and she’d already seen him in that. Several times, in fact, over the couple of hours and numerous tryings-on his mom had insisted were necessary to get it exactly right.
Screams of terror and pain reminded him of where the priority lay. “Here goes,” he muttered anxiously, and pulled his sweatshirt over his head. Somewhere along the way, a burst of speed kicked in, and he realised that his jeans lay on the ground, along with his sneakers, and that Lois was staring at him, slackjawed.
“Well, you said you were fast...” she muttered. Then, glancing behind him, she urged, “Go!”
*********
Left behind as the newly-created Superman swooped into the sky with what sounded suspiciously like a sonic boom, Lois bundled Clark’s clothes into the capacious backpack she’d brought with her and then hurried up onto the freeway, anxious not to miss anything important.
And she was just in time. She’d only managed to get close enough to see what was going on when a loud ‘whoosh’ sounded, and out of the sky came a blue-suited, red-caped apparition. Martha had been exactly right, Lois thought as she watched Clark hovering over the accident scene. The cape was the perfect addition. It fluttered behind him, giving an even greater appearance of majesty, of something... well, out of this world.
He looked stunning. The only word to describe him, in fact, as he paused in mid-air above the centre of the pile-up, was awe-inspiring. He took her breath away, and this wasn’t the first time she’d seen him in his costume. And she was already familiar with his powers.
Just what were other people going to make of him?
No-one had seen him yet, and she waited almost with bated breath for the first cry of “What on earth is
that?” But it didn’t come, and she acknowledged that people were too busy trying to get trapped passengers out of cars, or nursing their own injuries, or yelling and screaming and wondering why the paramedics and firefighters weren’t there yet.
And then a flicker of orange caught her eye. Just behind where Clark was hovering, assessing the scene and clearly deciding where to go first, something had caught fire. Flames were flickering angrily, getting closer to the overturned gas tanker by the second.
“Cla - ” Lois began to yell, before stopping abruptly as she realised that she
couldn’t call him Clark here.
His head turned. He’d seen it anyway. As had a few of the people at the scene; a couple of men were tackling the flames with miniature fire-extinguishers. It was a vain effort, of course; their actions had little more effect than applying a Band-Aid to a near-severed limb.
But she had no idea how Clark was going to deal with it. What could even he do against a fire of that intensity? How could he possibly stop the tanker from going up in a massive explosion?
Shouldn’t he be yelling at people to get away? Shouldn’t he be picking up those who couldn’t walk themselves; using what little time he had to clear the area?
She inhaled sharply, then opened her mouth to scream, to shout at people to get away, clear the area, before the tanker blew.
And then he did it. Something. Whatever it was, Lois couldn’t see, couldn’t work out. But suddenly the flames were doused. Smothered, as if he’d dropped a massive, soaking-wet blanket on top of them. Hissing steam arose from the site of the flames, but they were dead.
And then he darted over to the gas tanker and... lifted it. Set it back upright again. As heavy as it was... and he’d lifted it as if it weighed less than a toy version. She watched as he flew around it, clearly checking for leaks, and then stared at one part of the casing for several seconds, before flying over to another part of the crash scene.
Now, he’d been seen. Now, some of those who seconds before had been having hysterics were staring at him, pointing and looking incredulous.
“Is he... flying?”
“Who is that?”
“Is it some kind of trick?”
“It’s some new army secret weapon, isn’t it?”
“Gotta be an experiment. Who knows what those geeks at MIT get up to?”
Well, they’d all know exactly who he was when they read tomorrow’s Daily Planet, Lois thought in satisfaction; then she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. Digging in her backpack, she found the small 35mm camera she went nowhere without. As Clark -
Superman - darted here and there, sometimes flying, sometimes running, at times moving so swiftly he could barely be seen, she snapped photo after photo. Superman in the air. Superman peeling away the roof of a Mustang as if it were the covering on a sardine-can and gently, carefully, lifting out the trapped victim, taking her to the side of the road where a woman, who had identified herself as a doctor, was assessing the injured.
How had he known that it was safe to move the driver? Lois wondered. If the woman had any broken bones... Then she remembered that Clark had told her that he could see through things. X-ray vision, he’d said casually. Had he...
X-rayed the woman to establish her injuries before moving her?
And then she understood why, injuries or no injuries, Clark had moved that driver; smoke was coming from the hood of the car. It didn’t stay long; Clark darted back over and, it seemed to Lois, blew on the hood - and the smoke vanished. But by the time she was sure it had disappeared, Clark was already several feet away, disentangling more wrecked cars and lifting people to safety.
And then the sound of sirens came. First the police, and then the paramedics and fire trucks. Lois hurried closer and watched, listened, as Clark landed in front of the senior officer and, without giving the man time to ask who he was, gave a full briefing of what had been done and where help was most needed. Paramedics and firefighters, all looking stunned, hurried off in different directions in response to Clark’s instructions.
The senior officer stayed put, staring at Clark, and Lois could only imagine what he was thinking, faced with this strange man in skin-tight Spandex, who had
flown over to land in front of him and who appeared to have done singlehandedly, and in the space of a few minutes, the work of an entire fire crew with their hoses and cutting equipment. “Just who are you?” the officer asked, amazement and disbelief written all over his face.
The wary expression on his face told Lois that Clark still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that he no longer needed to hide. After a long pause, he replied, “A friend.”
“Where have you come from? How...? What...? You can do all these incredible things...” The officer seemed almost lost for words.
“I just want to help,” he said softly; then lifted smoothly into the air again.
**********
He’d actually carried it off - used his powers for good at a time when they were really needed, and he hadn’t been laughed at, or shot at, or dragged off to some laboratory. People had listened to his instructions and then carried them out. They had looked to him for advice and guidance. And, because of what he could do, a number of people were alive who might not otherwise have been.
He wasn’t exaggerating the importance of what he’d done; he knew very well that if that tanker had blown up, it would have killed those people nearest to it. Many others, those who hadn’t yet been able to escape from damaged and even crushed cars, would have been injured, perhaps suffered horrible burns. That woman he’d pulled out of her car would have died, too. She’d been completely trapped - not badly injured, he’d discovered, but pinned in her seat by the steering-wheel and dashboard, and there’d been signs of fire from the engine of her Mustang.
The firefighters were dousing with foam the area where the gas had leaked, although Clark was confident that there was no danger from that now. But it never hurt to be careful, and anyway, there was no reason why these guys should just take his word for it that the area was safe. After all, they had no idea what he could do.
He hovered above the scene, watching things and assessing whether he was needed any more. If not, he could just fly off and reappear as Clark Kent - once he found his clothes, of course, he remembered just in time.
And then he saw firefighters and paramedics clustered around an SUV which had been close to the back of the pile-up. Focusing in on their conversation, he realised that there was a small child in the back whose booster seat had been forced forward and wedged solidly, face down, between the two front seats as the result of a rear-end impact. The child, a little girl, was distressed, bleeding and in obvious pain, but the firefighters were saying that it wasn’t going to be possible to get her out without cutting equipment.
“Maybe I can help?” Clark landed beside the SUV, noting as he did so the anxious, tearful couple who were obviously the child’s parents; both had visible cuts and abrasions and looked as if they were in some pain, but their entire focus was on their daughter and the firefighter who was trying to give them some indication of what needed to be done to rescue her, at the same time trying to dampen their expectations, Clark could see. It was clear that the child would have lost a lot of blood by the time she could be freed, and there was no knowing what her injuries were.
“You... Who
are you?” the little girl’s father demanded.
He still had no idea how to answer that one. Lois’s name for him was too... Well, he was
not going to announce himself as Superman! “I’m... a friend.” He gestured towards the car. “Let me take a look.”
The child, aged about five, he guessed, was well and truly trapped. Looking closer, Clark caught his breath as he saw something he was convinced the emergency services weren’t aware of. A piece of metal, protruding from one of the front seats, had penetrated her upper arm, and that was where the blood was coming from.
By the time the firefighters could extract her safely, she could have bled to death.
Clark gestured at the senior fire officer, indicating that they should talk privately. Once they were standing some distance from the car, he filled the officer in on his discovery.
“Not good.” The officer frowned. “We can’t move any faster, though.”
“You don’t need to. I can get her out in a couple of minutes.”
“Safely?” the officer demanded suspiciously.
“Very.” Clark explained what he wanted to do. “I realise that it’s going to be hard for you to trust me, since you don’t know what I can do. But I’m asking you to do just that.”
“Whoever you are, help her, please!” The sobbing voice came from behind him, and Clark swung around to see the tearful face of the little girl’s mother. “I saw what you did earlier. I saw you get that woman out of her car. Please, get Jenny out! Please! I don’t want her to die - you can’t let her die!”
“I need to do this,” Clark said quietly to the fire officer. “Okay?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure that I could stop you. And... well, seems you’re her only hope.” The final words were spoken almost sotto voce.
Not waiting for any further permission, Clark hurried back to the car. Another quick assessment of the situation, and then he carefully peeled back the roof of the car. To him, it was no more difficult than turning a page in a book, but he knew that he had to make sure that no bits of metal went anywhere they shouldn’t. He’d already checked the state of the fuel tank, ensuring that there was no gas or oil spilled anywhere around.
The child was still sobbing and whimpering in pain as he threw the roof on the ground. Clark’s heart twisted, but he reminded himself that she would be out and safe soon, getting the medical treatment she needed.
“Jenny? Jenny, can you hear me?” He spoke loudly, but gently, trying not to alarm her.
She didn’t answer. Clark turned around and gestured towards her parents. “Can you come and talk to her? She might be happier if she can hear your voices.”
And it would at least make the parents feel as if they were doing something, he reflected silently.
As they began to talk to Jenny, Clark examined the interior of the car and the exact nature of her position. The easiest way to get the child out, he decided, was to apply just a little brute force...
“Climb onto the seat,” he instructed her father. “Now, hold her - just with your hands around her waist, okay? Make sure she doesn’t move.”
He didn’t think the precaution was necessary, but it was best to be safe... and also, it might stop Jenny’s parents from focusing on exactly what he was about to do. He didn’t want them afraid that she was going to be hurt - or, worse still, interfering in any way.
He grasped the passenger seat - the one which wasn’t sticking into Jenny - and applied pressure. There was a slight grinding sound, and it moved an inch, then another. A couple of seconds more, and Jenny was no longer firmly wedged.
Changing position slightly, he motioned Jenny’s father to move a little way to the right, thus giving himself a clear view of the metal spike. A small amount of heat vision was enough to sever it. In under a second, he had Jenny in his arms and was floating over towards the nearest ambulance.
“The spike’s still sticking into her arm,” he explained. “I just cut it away from the chair. She doesn’t seem to have any internal injuries that I can see, so other than her arm she should be fine.”
“And you got her out fast enough for us to help her there,” a paramedic said gratefully, already beginning to treat Jenny. “Whoever you are, you’ve done a great job here today.”
“Yes, he has, hasn’t he?” a familiar voice interjected. “Lois Lane, Daily Planet. Mind if I ask a few questions?”
“Not to us, Ms Lane - we need to take this little girl to the nearest hospital immediately,” the paramedic said instantly. “You can say that our friend here may have saved her life, if you like.”
“Thanks.” Clark saw that Lois had a miniature tape-recorder in her hand, and he stifled a grin. Trust his partner to be prepared for any eventuality!
“I don’t want to delay you,” she was saying to Jenny’s parents. “I know you want to go with her. But could I have just one quote, please? And a picture?”
The mother nodded. “I just want to say that he... whoever he is... he saved my little girl, and I’ll always be grateful. Thank you,” she added, turning to Clark.
“You’re welcome,” he assured her. “Just take good care of her, okay?”
“And I’d like to ask you some questions too,” Lois added, fixing him with a determined look. “So... who are you? And how can you do all these things?”
They hadn’t rehearsed this. They hadn’t planned what he was going to say. Clark wanted to interrupt, to stop her, to ask for more time to think about it... but he knew that it was futile. They were in the situation; he was surrounded by fire officers, paramedics, the police and members of the public, all watching from a not-very-discreet distance. So he had to answer.
“I’m... a friend. From - ” He took a deep breath. “From another planet. And I have certain... abilities which I want to use to help. Like here.”
“What’s your name?” she asked.
He gulped and stared at her. She wasn’t supposed to ask him that.
“You have an S on your... costume,” she said, studying him and then taking some more photographs. “Since you won’t tell me your name... well, I guess I’ll just have to *give* you a name.” Again, she seemed to look thoughtful. “I know. Superman!” she announced, as if the idea had just occurred to her.
“That sounds kind of... egotistical, wouldn’t you say, Ms Lane?” he murmured, with a half-smile.
“Perhaps. But just ask any of these people here what they think,” she suggested. “Or better still, Jenny’s parents. I think Superman describes you and what you can do pretty well.”
“If you insist,” he said, still smiling. “Is that all you need? Because I think I’m needed over there...” He gestured to a small group several yards away. He was pretty sure that the emergency services were managing without him, but it gave him an excuse to end the interview.
“Okay. But I’ll be watching you, Superman!” Lois said cheerfully, moving away and going to interview some of the bystanders.
He was well aware of that. And, Clark thought, he liked the idea.
He liked it a
lot.
*********
...tbc
