Table of Contents


From Part 18:



“So... why did you ask?”

“Because it struck me that we could achieve two things here, if we think hard enough about it,” Lois said calmly. “One, you can help people, but do it openly - no hiding, no being afraid of being discovered - and two, we get a terrific exclusive, a guaranteed front-page story.”

Clark stared at her. “You’re kidding! Let everyone know what I can do...? No-one I know would ever be safe!”

“No, not if it’s you, Clark Kent, doing things,” Lois answered casually. “But the beauty of my idea is - it wouldn’t be you.”


*********

Now read on...


The idea had come to her on the way over to the Apollo Hotel. She’d first of all been fixated on the need to convince Clark that she wasn’t going to turn him into Freak of the Week, but at the same time she’d been thinking about Lex Luthor and her worry that he’d escape detection. And it had occurred to her that, with Clark’s abilities, he might well be able to track Luthor down.

And, come to that, there was a lot more he could be doing - and probably had already been trying to do, undetected, for a very long time. She was sure of that; it meshed with his character, or what of it she’d learned over the past week or so.

Clark Kent was a congenital ‘helper’. He couldn’t see someone in trouble and not try to lend a hand. He’d done that only that morning - well, yesterday morning now, she admitted - when he’d seen her looking upset and defeated. He’d asked her what was wrong, and had then offered to help, with no personal agenda involved. He’d been genuinely affected by Samuel Platt’s fate and the situation Platt’s family was in. And, of course, he’d shown more concern than was sensible for a kid he’d thought was a car-thief.

Yes, Clark would always want to help people where he could, and she could easily believe that he’d been using his abilities in secret over the years, and it fitted in well with a comment he’d made a few days earlier about having moved around a lot. He’d have done something - been a little indiscreet in the use of his abilities - and that would have been it. Someone would have come close to knowing that Clark Kent was ‘different’. And so he’d had to move on.

In fact, she even remembered some reports from the news agencies about inexplicable events in remote or faraway corners of the world: stories about a man who could move faster than the human eye could see, a bird who could talk and carry people, someone with superhuman strength. Those reports had all been dismissed by the world’s media as fantasy, the products of superstition or overactive imaginations.

But they weren’t, she now realised. They’d all been Clark Kent, doing what he could to help. He’d saved lives, alleviated the worst of natural disasters, prevented catastrophes from occurring. And he’d done it all in secret, hiding what he could do from the people around him, and running away when someone got too close to the truth. He had a compulsion to help, to use his abilities for good.

That being so, what if there was a way for him to carry on doing it, but without having to risk detection?

And that had led her to the idea she was bursting to put to him - well, had been, until he’d accused her of planning to ruin his life by exposing him. She hadn’t been best pleased about that. So, instead, she’d proceeded by being mysterious. And had felt rewarded by his bemused, appalled stare.

But then, she reasoned in respect of his suspicion of her, she would have felt exactly the same way. After all, how could he possibly know that he could trust her? They’d known each other a little over a week, that was all. And she hadn’t believed that she could trust him not to abandon her to her fate earlier, at the EPRAD complex. They had a lot to learn about each other, she reminded herself. So she should cut him some slack and tell him about her idea.

Then she caught herself sharply. A lot to learn about each other... why, exactly? He was a colleague. Maybe a partner, if her plan came to fruition; apart from the fact that she’d prefer that he was working with her and not in competition now that she knew how good he was, the potential offered by the combination of his abilities and her talent would make them an unbeatable reporting team. Plus, he was the only reporter she’d ever been able to stand working with.

Since Claude, anyway.

But there was no need for her to get to know Clark Kent better for any other reason.

Her gaze fell to his lips, and she forced herself to look away again.

So he was a good kisser - so what? She didn’t want to remember those kisses, nor what had preceded them. She’d humiliated herself completely with all she’d said, and if there was some way in which she could erase the memory of that entire conversation from Clark’s brain, she would have done it.

Though now, of course, she had the perfect blackmail material... She wouldn’t mention his secret if he kept his mouth shut about what she’d said.

Should have thought of that before you blurted out to him that you wouldn’t tell anyone about what he could do! her inner voice pointed out tartly.

“Lois?” Clark’s worried, impatient voice broke in on her musings. “What do you mean - it wouldn’t be me?”

“Just that,” she said, gaining a sense of pleasure - or revenge for his accusations? - from delaying her explanation. “Clark, have you ever thought of using some sort of disguise?”


********

A disguise.

Doing things - using his powers to help people - wearing a disguise.

No-one would know that it was him - that it was Clark Kent.

He could use his powers as much as he wanted; help all those people whose cries he heard but was simply unable to assist without discovery. That car on the bridge the previous afternoon; it had crashed through the safety barrier and was left hanging, front wheels off the road, tilting dangerously. It had taken the emergency services two hours to get it safely back onto the bridge; the occupants had been inside for most of that time, as it had been too dangerous to attempt to evacuate them. Clark knew that he would have been able to rescue them in seconds.

Or the young woman with her little girl who’d been so badly injured when their home had been wrecked in an explosion; he could have got them out and flown them to the hospital; the child’s mother might even have lived.

Yes; if he could use his powers openly, there was so much he could do...

“What sort of disguise?” he asked slowly, thoughtfully.

Lois didn’t answer immediately; she began pacing around the small kitchenette, an expression of concentration on her face. As it was a small room, she had made several circuits before she finally spoke.

“How about a mask? Or a hood?”

Clark hesitated. It sounded attractive; no-one would see his face, and therefore he wouldn’t be recognised. “I’m not sure that I’d be able to see properly. At least, not without using my vision abilities all the time, and I don’t like doing that.” In case he saw something he shouldn't, or didn’t want to - but he had no intention of telling Lois that.

“Yeah, true. And anyway,” she added, “I’m not sure that would work. If I saw someone wearing a mask or a hood, I’d want to know who was under it.”

“Yes, and I’d assume that they had something to hide,” Clark added.

“Yeah. We can’t have people thinking that,” Lois agreed.

Since when had this become ‘we’? Clark wondered. Still, if it meant that Lois was willing to help him, then he should take advantage of it. After all, having one of the best reporters in the country on his side should only help when it came to avoiding pursuit from other reporters.

“Okay, so what other kind of disguise would work?” he asked, thinking aloud. “It has to be something which makes me look different, but won’t make people try to find out who I am.”

Lois paced the length of the small room again, pausing as she reached the end. “So... maybe not a disguise exactly, but a...” She trailed off, then spun on her heel suddenly and faced him.

“I’ve got it!”

“What?” he asked.

She answered by throwing another question at him. “Who do we see every day of the week, and yet we wouldn’t recognise them if we saw them dressed differently?”

“Huh?”

“What about uniformed cops, the security guards at the Planet, firefighters, nurses... do people recognise them out of their uniform or out of context?”

Clark considered her words. He did normally tend to recognise people out of context, but he’d long known that he had a very good memory. Lois was right: most people never actually looked at the faces of officials they dealt with. They concentrated on the uniforms and the position the officials occupied.

“So... you think that some sort of uniform would help...?”

“Yeah, I think a uniform is exactly what you need,” she said, looking at him assessingly. “And if you can lose the glasses when you wear it...”

“That’s not a problem,” Clark admitted. “I only wear them to remind me not to use my vision powers accidentally. So if I wear them as myself and take them off when I put on the disguise, that would help to make me look different, I guess.”

“Very,” Lois agreed. “I couldn’t believe, earlier, just how different you looked without your glasses. It’s just as well you’d put them back on before we went back to the Planet. And your hair, and the clothes you were wearing... I might have had a hard time recognising you if I passed you in the street.”

Surprised, Clark stared at her. “I looked that different?”

“Yes - and, believe me, I notice these things. It would work... especially if you could act differently too - I don’t know, maybe more formally? Be distant with people? That would stop them asking too many questions, as well as making you seem even less like Clark Kent.”

Hiding in plain sight - that was what Lois was suggesting. And she really made it sound as if it could work, too. It was very tempting - too tempting to resist.

“I think I know where I can get this... uniform you’re suggesting,” he said thoughtfully.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” A broad smile creased his face. “You want to come with me? I mean, maybe you’d have some more great ideas like this one.”

Lois grinned. “Just try and stop me! But first, we have something more important to do.”


********

We.

For Lois, the use of the plural pronoun felt very strange indeed. She wasn’t used to working with someone else - a partner. And yet, with Clark Kent it was already beginning to feel right. Natural.

They weren’t partners! she reminded herself hurriedly. She’d just asked for him to work with her that night because of the EPRAD investigation, and their outstanding task related to that story. That was all.

And yet... She’d already recognised, earlier, that he would make a great partner. He was a good reporter, and she could stand him far better than anyone else she’d ever had to work with. He didn’t get on her nerves anything like as bad as some of the morons Perry had assigned to work with her. He was intelligent, quick-thinking and could even make suggestions which hadn’t occurred to her. And he was definitely a cool head in a crisis.

He could save her life in a crisis.

And he was right. What he’d said to her earlier - and she hadn’t paid much attention to - had been very true. He’d saved her life at the risk of his secret. He might not have been at risk of being killed, but he had risked exposure: the destruction of his life and all that he held dear, the damage which such exposure would have done to his parents.

He’d risked all that to save her life.

And, she realised with a sudden jolt, he hadn’t had to. He could have protected his secret and been perfectly safe. All he’d had to do was wait until the bomb went off, and then he could just have quietly made his escape unharmed. Of course, she would have been dead, but Clark’s secret would have been safe. He might have had to move on afterwards, though even that wasn’t a foregone conclusion; Lex Luthor hadn’t known who he was.

Instead, he’d rescued her, knowing that she would very probably realise that there was something very different about him.

If she still had any question in her mind as to whether she could trust Clark Kent, that fact would give her the answer she needed.

“Lois?” Her musings were interrupted by Clark calling her name; and by the sound of his tone, it wasn’t for the first time.

“Sorry. I was just thinking... Anyway,” she added quickly, “We need to find Lex Luthor.”

“Huh?”

“Oh! Of course, you don’t know,” she said, remembering that he’d left as she’d been speaking to Henderson. Briefly, she filled him in on the phone conversation.

“So Luthor’s still out there, and we need to find him,” she finished.

“I see.” Clark’s expression had turned grim during her summary, and now he ran his hand through his hair in agitation. “So yet another murder chalked up to Luthor’s account?”

“It looks like it,” Lois agreed. “But it’s not as if Baines was a saint, after all. Remember, she was implicated up to her neck in the Messenger sabotage!”

“I know,” Clark agreed, but his tone was heavy. “That still doesn’t mean that she deserved to die. Sure, she deserved to go to jail, but that’s different. That way the full facts about what happened would have come out properly too, and the victims’ families might have got a sense of closure.”

“They still can, if we catch Luthor,” Lois pointed out.

“And he has to be caught,” Clark added grimly. “I should have thought about this before.” Sounding angry with himself, he continued, “There I was, getting ready to leave Metropolis, and I never even thought about the danger to you.”

Lois frowned. “Danger?”

“Yes! Sooner or later, Luthor’s going to realise that Dr Baines’ little explosion didn’t kill us after all. And he’s going to come after you - or, more likely, send one of his henchmen after you. Your life isn’t going to be safe until he’s in custody, Lois - and maybe not even after that, if his minions are still loyal to him.”

That was something she hadn’t thought about, and yet of course it was true. As soon as the Planet hit the streets, which would be in about - she checked her watch - an hour for the first edition, Luthor would know that she and Clark were alive. Well, that she was alive; as far as she knew, he’d never actually found out Clark’s identity.

So Clark was right: her life would be in danger. She was surprised that Perry or Henderson hadn’t insisted that she go into hiding - but then she remembered that Perry had insisted that she and Clark needed to take the morning off, and Henderson had at that point muttered something about her needing to stay put so he’d know where she’d be. So it probably was taken care of.

“So that makes it even more important that we find him,” she said resolutely.

“I agree. But what makes you think we can succeed where the police can’t?”

“You!” Lois retorted, gesturing at him. “Think about it, Clark - we have an advantage no-one else has here. How many other men do you know who can fly? Or who can see or hear things at long distances, and who can see *through* things? Don’t you think that with that sort of advantage we could find Luthor?”

A flash of a grin appeared on Clark’s face. “I guess that’s true. And I should have guessed that you’d find a way to turn what I can do to advantage!”

“So?” she prompted. “Are we going?”

In response, he came over to her and extended his arms. “Can I offer you a ride, ma’am?”

With a silent ‘Wow!’, Lois allowed Clark to lift her and hold her against his chest. Then, wrapping her arms around his neck, she braced herself for what she was sure would be the ride of a lifetime.


********

...tbc


Just a fly-by! *waves*