This is a story long in the making, written and rewritten a few times. Thanks to JadedEvie and Calliope Wayne for their beta. Chapter 1: Clark stripped out of his stained suit, the dripping wet cape creating a puddle on the floor. Even after his long bath in the Atlantic ocean the suit reeked of dried blood, mud and soot. Though it was probably ruined beyond repair, he stuffed it into a bucket filled with water and a generous amount of detergent before leaving it to soak on his balcony.
He’d deal with the stains later - or admit defeat, whatever seemed the more sensible approach.
Dragging his tired feet, he gave the puddles on the floor a half-hearted burst of heat vision as he headed for the shower. The water evaporated in a small cloud of steam, leaving a layer of salt and dust in its wake.
At the moment, Clark couldn’t care less. He got rid of his briefs and threw them into the hamper. All he wanted was to rinse off the dirt and despair of the past two days.
A trickle of water dripped from the shower head as Clark stepped inside. The droplets hitting his face tossed him right back onto the island. Clark saw it right in his mind’s eye - the water dripping from a damaged rain drain down onto a mother cradling the broken body of her lifeless child. Her clothing was covered in dirt, soaked in blood. When Clark had first seen them, he’d thought they were resting. But the mother had long since stopped breathing. And even in death, her face had been stricken with grief.
He'd been too late to save them – and so many others...
Clark's heart twisted and tightened painfully, caught in the strong chokehold of his own grief. He turned the water on fully and a sob escaped from deep within his chest. He couldn't cry though. Inside him was just hollow emptiness, a strange sense of detachment. Resting his head against the cool tiles, he let the water wash over his body and tried to concentrate on the rivulets running down his back, streaming down his thighs, pooling at his feet.
And he felt guilty for it. The people he’d left on the islands couldn’t just take a shower, wash off their anguish and go back about their lives. They would be stuck in their misery, mourning their dead while he –
Clark shook his head, trying to rid himself of the morbid thoughts. Lois would scold him for being so hard on himself and remind him how many more lives would have been lost without Superman. Clark smiled to himself. On days like this, her voice kept him going, her reassurance that whatever he was able to do was enough. He needed her so much.
But then he remembered their date and how it had ended and his smile crumbled.
Clark let out a long sigh and took the soap, starting to scrub off the mud and soot clinging to his body. Some days he felt like a fraud for donning the suit and rushing somewhere to save the day when in reality, he wasn’t able to save anything. Apparently, not even a relationship.
When he looked and smelled presentable, Clark turned off the water. He reached for a towel and mechanically rubbed himself dry, then wrapped the towel around his waist.
With a zap of heat vision he cleared the fogged mirror. The man looking back at him sported a stubble well beyond a five o’clock shadow. Tired lines around his eyes gave away his lack of sleep. He leaned forward and splashed water onto his face, trying to ground himself in the cool, wet sensation. Closing his eyes, he took deep steadying breaths until he heard knocking.
Clark straightened. The knocking resumed, louder, more impatient. Someone was on his front door.
“Clark! I know you're there, open up.” It was Lois’ voice.
She knocked again, even harder this time. The door rattled in its hinges.
“Clark!”
He groaned and wiped his face dry, not sure he was ready to deal with her. What did she even want? She'd told him she never wanted to see him again after what he'd thought had been a really nice date. There was not much left to say, was there?
Bang, bang, bang!
Her knocks rang in his ears. “Clark, where the heck are you? Either you open that door or I’ll do it.”
Clark groaned again. Obviously Lois wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He took another deep breath, then stepped out of the bathroom. In his bedroom, he spun into something a little more appropriate than the towel and slipped the glasses back on his nose.
In his living room, the radio played gentle music. He must have left it on before he’d headed back to help more victims of the tsunami. Unwanted memories of broken bodies bubbled up, but he forced them to the back of his mind. He couldn’t lose it, not here, not now, when on the other side of his door Lois already seemed to be searching her handbag for her lockpicking equipment.
She sure wasn't fooling around.
Clark clenched his hands into fists and gritted his teeth. The nerve of that woman!
He opened the door and, folding his arms in front of his chest, leaned against the frame.
When Lois looked up at him, she at least had the decency to seem a bit contrite. However, the sentiment quickly vanished and she narrowed her eyes on him.
Clark wasn’t in the mood for niceties. “What do you want, Lois?”
She bit her lip.
He’d expected her to launch a full-fledged rant on one thing or another. Mad Dog Lane in full swing, so to speak, if her banging on his door was any indication. But she gave him a once over, her gaze drifting over his stubbly cheeks much longer than was comfortable with him. Clark winced. Instead of wallowing he should have shaved properly. He wasn’t prepared to answer questions about his scruffy appearance.
Lois shifted from one foot to the other before she straightened her shoulders and stuck out her chin. “Can we talk or are you going to run out on me again?”
She thought he was running out on her? Who had slammed a door in whose face? Who had told Perry she needed another partner? Not that he was supposed to know that.
Clark gritted his teeth. “I’m not running out on you.”
“Oh, really!” Mad Dog Lane exploded. “Could have fooled me! Then perhaps I imagined you leaving right in the middle of every conversation we've had since…” She looked at her feet, suddenly seeming uncomfortable with the way she’d lashed out at Clark.
That was new. And she wasn’t so wrong about being mad at him for all the vanishing acts he’d pulled on her these past few days. He hadn’t thought she’d still care.
Clark’s anger evaporated.
He stepped aside. “Come in.”
She went past him, so close he could feel the heat radiating off her body. A soft scent of soap surrounded her, mixed with the new fragrance she’d worn to their date. He was painfully aware of the way her hair bounced while she walked, so tantalizingly close that it wouldn’t take much to reach out and run his fingers through it. She moistened her lips with a quick flick of her tongue, reminding him just how badly he wanted to taste those lips.
Just a few short days ago he’d thought he’d finally get to kiss her. The whole evening had been like a dream come true – they’d chatted and laughed, never once getting to a point of uncomfortable silence. He’d fed her his chocolate desert, feeling he might lose his sanity whenever she’d closed her eyes with that little moan of contentment she always seemed to make while savoring a taste.
He'd walked her home, arms linked, shoulders touching. It had taken every ounce of self control not to cup her cheek and seal her lips with a hungry kiss. But he'd taken it all in, every smile, every casual touch, every minute hint that she might be enjoying their date as much as he did. She'd even told him she'd had a great time.
And for a moment there, he'd thought this was it. He'd dared to lean in, waiting for her to close the distance.
Clark still had no idea what he might have done to get on her bad side.
Maybe she’d come to tell him.
And his heart fluttered with the prospect of reconciling and, perhaps taking up where they’d left off before…
He followed Lois into the living room. “I haven’t been avoiding you,” Clark said softly.
She turned to him, her eyes narrow again. “What then? You were gone for the better part of two days, making it back just in time to bring food for Bobby last night. And afterwards you also had to – what? – return a video? Check in with your dentist?”
Clark pinched the bridge of his nose, not sure how he was supposed to explain any of it. He felt too exhausted, too wired to make up excuses.
Before he could say something though, Lois continued. “Not to mention this morning when you just up and left right after we talked to Mayson and Burke.”
Mayson!
Clark felt as if someone had slapped him, hard. He’d completely forgotten about Mayson. Suddenly, the other events of the past few days rushed back to him with a vengeance. Bobby’s warning, Clark’s desperate attempts to convince Mayson to stay off the conference, her repeated refusal. And finally his offer to go with her.
Oh gosh, hadn’t Mayson said something about picking him up around seven? He had about half an hour. He needed to start packing!
Lois, however, still wasn’t done.
She drew herself up to her full height and poked her finger into his chest. “We’ve been on a
date, Clark! Don’t you think you should at least discuss it with me before you go ahead and pose as Mayson’s fiancé?”
The daggers in her eyes stood in stark contrast to the playful song filling the silence between them.
Clark had no idea what to say. She’d slammed the door in his face when he’d been about to kiss her. It was obvious she didn’t want anything beyond friendship. What was it to her that he wanted to protect a friend in need?
When the song faded, a jingle announced the news.
Clark tensed.
<Thirty-six hours after a devastating earthquake and resulting tsunami hit several insular states surrounding the South China Sea the death toll is still increasing. Despite Superman’s efforts to clear roads, emergency services are having trouble reaching more secluded areas.>More unbidden memories added images of destruction to the words of the news-anchor. Piles of rubble which used to be homes, uprooted palm trees surrounded by water and former hotels looking like ruins in a war zone rather than a place for a dream vacation. And so many lives lost, so many hopes and dreams ripped from the people who’d been living there.
Once again Clark’s heart clenched in pain, squeezed inside his chest so tight he couldn’t breathe.
<Local hospitals are overwhelmed with the number of patients. Many victims who were initially rescued by Superman have succumbed to their extensive injuries.> Clark raked a hand through his hair and stumbled towards the radio on his kitchen counter, no longer able to listen.
<Estimates are – >With a flick of his finger, Clark turned the radio off and steadied himself against the counter, taking slow breaths to get his rampant emotions back under control. To hell with Lois and her hurt feelings. He’d deal with her later. Too many people had already died. He couldn’t let Mayson be one of them, just to please Lois.
He just couldn’t!
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, warm and gentle. Another Lois than the one who’d slammed the door in his face.
“Clark…” she muttered.
And for a moment, he wondered if maybe she’d understand.
He let out a shaky breath and turned to her. “You know why I'm doing this. Bobby’s tips are usually solid. When he says Mayson is on Intergang’s assassination list, I believe him. And he was adamant he heard the hotel’s name.”
She shook her head and her lips became small. “We already did everything we could! We talked to Mayson. And Detective Burke. It was her decision to act as bait and finally lure out Intergang. You, me and Burke tried to convince her otherwise but she refused. It’s her choice, Clark. And Burke promised the police will protect her.”
This isn’t your fight, her eyes seemed to say.
Such wonderful brown eyes. And part of him wanted to just drown in them and believe her. He was so very tired. He wanted to lose himself in her embrace and forget about this terrible day, if only for a moment. Let her kisses chase away the shadows of the people he hadn’t been able to save.
But she wasn’t going to kiss him, was she?
Superman perhaps, but not him.
His stomach turned into a tight knot. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
Lois frowned at him. “And that's why you must tag along? As her fiancé?”
“It's an attorneys-and-family-only kind of congress,” Clark growled.
Why did she have to make this so difficult? She’d gone undercover countless times, dressed in flimsy feathers, flirting with other men. What was so different about his assignment?
“It’s the only way for me to keep an eye on Mayson and you know that.”
She squinched up her face. “It's also a perfect opportunity to get to know her on a more intimate level,” she said bitterly.
Clark’s stomach churned. Had she really just said that? “You think I’m doing this because I want to share a room with Mayson?”
“Not just a room, Clark,” Lois snapped. “Or are they offering separate beds?”
Clark clenched his teeth. “No, they’re not.”
He didn’t like where this was going. Did she really believe that after asking her out, he’d jump into bed with the next best girl? To get back at her? Clark took a steadying breath and tried to swallow down his anger.
With as much composure as he could muster, he said. “You and I have shared rooms before, Lois. And nothing happened. Mayson is a friend. And that’s all she is.”
“Am I supposed to believe you?” Her eyes gleamed dangerously. She folded her arms in front of her chest and her lips curled in disgust. “This woman is practically drooling every time she sees you. And she doesn’t take no for an answer. Don't tell me you’re not going to give in if she's set out on seducing you. I happen to know you would have ended up in bed with me if the pheromone spray hadn't worn off in time.”
The air rushed out of his lungs as if she’d just given him a punch to the gut. Over the past year and a half he’d almost forgotten about that side of her. She’d danced for him all night in a flimsy breath of nothing, slowly driving him insane in the process. Okay, so in the end, his resolution had cracked. He wasn’t proud of that.
But did she really have to bring that up now?
White hot anger rushed through his veins.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” he ground out. “Two days ago we had an amazing date and yet you told me you never wanted to see me again. I must have missed the part where we agreed to be exclusive.”
Clark’s eyes burned and he wasn’t sure whether it were tears of frustration or a looming burst of heat vision. He clenched them shut and stormed out of the room, not able to stand her presence another moment. If she really thought so little of him, then maybe it was for the best that she’d slammed the door in his face.
He should be packing anyway. With a few quick strides, he was in his bedroom, pulled his old suitcase from a corner and slammed it onto the bed.
***
Lois stared after Clark, open-mouthed, as if there were anything to add. Which really there wasn’t. Clark had about summed it up. Her gut clenched with guilt. He was right. She had no claim over him, not after her terrible knee-jerk reaction two days ago.
Instead of giving him the third degree, she should have apologized for her behavior. She'd been meaning to. But her emotions had gotten the better of her.
Again.
She closed her eyes.
Reminding him of her dance of the seven veils had been a cheap shot, even for her. After all, he’d been the perfect gentleman when he could have easily gotten his pound of flesh. Up until the very end. Tears burned in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She’d utterly blown it.
“What about Mayson?”
“The guy's only got two tickets.”
"Clark..."
“I'm asking you out, Lois.” He’s been nothing but kind to her even when she’d treated him horribly. He’d comforted her through a bout of food poisoning during what should have been their first date. He’s been the most amazing date in the history of dates.
And she’d slammed the door in his face.
A shiver ran down Lois’ spine. She was about to lose him.
Lois clutched her arms around herself. Clark’s couch sat in the middle of the room, looking as comfortable and inviting as ever. Yet, now it seemed to mock her. How many nights had they spent there in companionable silence, watching a movie, sharing a pizza or working late while sifting through folders? How many times had Clark taken her in without question?
She didn’t want to lose that.
She didn’t want to lose him.
Lois swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump suddenly clogging her throat. Her heart beat heavily in her chest as she followed Clark into his bedroom.
His jaw ticked, while he folded a shirt - each motion measured, quick, exuding anger as if he held the shirt personally responsible for his foul mood. Lois watched him work, quietly hoping he would look up, smile at her and tell her all was well. He didn’t. In fact, he gave no indication at all that he knew she was standing there, waiting for him to make the first move.
He just grabbed the next shirt to add it to his suitcase.
Lois’ throat felt so tight she could barely speak.
She cleared it. “Clark.”
He dropped the shirt into the suitcase, then looked up at her. A heavy sigh escaped him, the firm set of his jaw eased and his tight shoulders sagged.
“I’m sorry, Lois,” he said ruefully. “That was uncalled for. I know how this must look to you. But I swear I’m not in love with Mayson. I haven’t been sleeping with her and I’m not planning to.”
His gaze held no deception. After almost two years of working with Clark, Lois could tell that much. He meant what he said, or at least he was convinced he did. Perhaps Clark really just wanted to keep Mayson safe, boy scout that he was. Which didn't mean he was immune to a pair of shapely legs.
Lois ran her tongue over her lips, trying to get some moisture back on them. “Does she know you’re not in love with her?” she asked hoarsely.
Clark gave a helpless shrug.
“Because she's absolutely head over heels in love with you.”
Not to mention Mayson came without all the baggage, the broken pieces that need fixing and the overwhelming urge to push away the people she needed most. Lois felt new tears prick in her eyes and blinked them back, too. She wasn’t going to cry, she wouldn’t give Clark the satisfaction of falling apart at his place, not as long as there was the very real possibility he’d choose Mayson over her.
“I'm sorry, too.” Lois shuffled her feet. “We had the perfect date and I blew it. I don't know what got into me. I guess I was scared, but that's no excuse for what I did to you.”
“It's okay.” Clark’s hardened expression cracked into the ghost of a smile. He walked around his bed and took Lois’ hand. “You're right, I should have talked to you. But the past two days have been crazy.”
His face clouded over, reflecting a pain running much deeper than mere disappointment about a ruined date.
With a start, Lois realized she wasn’t the only one who was hurting. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“It's just…” He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair. “Nothing. I like Mayson. As a friend. It scares me that someone wants her dead, that they might succeed.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants, pulled them out again, folded them in front of his chest, only to drop them to his sides.
Lois had hardly ever seen Clark this agitated, trapped even, like a caged animal. She couldn’t help but think there was more to his behavior than being worried about the well-being of a friend. But if love wasn’t it, what was it then?
She laid a hand on his shoulder. “The police will take good care of her, I’m sure. They don’t need your help.”
Clark hummed something unintelligible and pressed his lips together, his jaw working. She wasn’t going to change his mind, so much was certain. It was odd, because if places were reversed, Clark would be the first one trying to dissuade her from putting herself in danger.
Her heart clenched with dread. “Why do you think you can do a better job than they can? You're just as vulnerable as Mayson is.” The memory of almost losing him was still fresh in her mind. He’d thrown himself in front of a bullet for her. He hadn’t thought twice about it.
“I almost lost you once,” she whispered. “What if this time Superman isn't there to–”
She couldn’t finish the sentence, she couldn’t live through that despair and confusion again.
“He will be,” Clark said roughly. “He has to. Meanwhile Mayson needs someone at her side, someone who could pass for her fiancé without looking suspicious.”
It made sense. Much as she hated Clark's reasoning, it made sense. In some twisted way that tore her heart to shreds.
Lois swallowed past the lump in her throat. “So, you're not doing this to get back at me? For slamming that door in your face?”
“Of course not.” He cupped her cheek with his hand. Warmth and affection had returned to his eyes and he smiled at her. “Don't you think I know you better than to give up at the first sign of trouble? I know this is a lot to ask of you, but I need you to trust me.”
Oh, she trusted him. With her life. Her heart was another matter.
“I’m not going to ruin this,” he vowed.
She merely nodded, trying to convince herself that this was just another assignment, a story they worked on together. Sort of. If only they could. Because much as she hated to admit it, they were better together than she’d ever been alone. And surely Clark would agree, she just had to –
Lois stuck out her chin. “I'm coming with you.”
“And how?” Clark raised a brow. “If there was a way to keep an eye on Mayson other than posing as her fiancé, I’d do it in a heartbeat. We've been over this, Lois. No sneaking in as a couple. They’ve booked the entire hotel for this congress. ”
She pursed her lips. “I’ll find myself a job there.”
“The conference starts tonight, Lois,” Clark said softly. “There’s very little time to prepare an undercover assignment, even for you.”
She balled her hands into fists and opened her lips to give him a piece of her mind. He was right though. It would take a miracle to pull that off, even if it weren’t on such a short notice. Lois’ shoulders sagged again, and she released her fists, though she promised herself she wasn’t going to admit defeat just yet. She couldn’t.
Clark gave her a rueful smile. “Look, I’m really sorry, but I don’t see how we could go there together. I’ll get us the story; we’ll share the byline…And I’ll come clean with Mayson.”
Lois folded her hands in front of her chest and grumbled, “I don't like this.”
“Neither do I.”
Clark reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She considered slapping his hand back. But she’d already slammed a door in his face. And he’d asked her to trust him. So she let him touch her, fighting to ignore the strange flutter of excitement deep in her belly. After all, he was about to spend the night with another woman.
With Mayson Drake of all people.
“This better be one hell of a story,” she muttered.
“It will be. And we'll work on this together, like we always do. Just you from the outside this time; and me from the inside.”
“No funny business?”
“No funny business,” he said solemnly.
His brown eyes rested on her, so warm and caring, so open and sincere as if he meant what he said. As if there was no doubt in his mind she was the one for him. The flutter in her belly intensified, a million butterflies swirling through her insides. His lips curled in a smile, the kind that made her heart skip a beat.
“Okay,” she croaked.
Lois’ gaze dropped to his lips and her pulse rushed in her ears. The way he looked at her reminded her so much of their encounter two nights before, when he’d leaned in to kiss her good night. When she’d made that stupid mistake.
Her breath caught in her chest. She’d come here to apologize for her behavior. To ask him for another chance. Perhaps this was it, perhaps she should just… Her heart raced and she fought the panic bubbling up inside her. Just a few inches was all it took. Why did it feel like she was about to jump off a cliff?
Clark pulled back and waved at the half-packed suitcase on his bed. “I…uh… I need to finish this. Mayson is going to pick me up in about ten minutes.”
Mayson again. The name hit her like a punch, shoving her out of her daydreams of kissing him and back into the harsh reality of Clark’s impending departure.
“Already?” she managed.
He nodded, lips tight. “It’s just for two days. I’ll keep you posted, I promise. We’ll write this story and then…”
“Don’t.” She raised a hand to silence him, still not quite able to shake the sense of betrayal she felt at his going undercover with the buxom blonde. “Let’s talk when this is all over.”
*When you’ve made good on your promise and told Mayson to jump in a lake,* Lois thought bitterly.
Then she turned and stormed out of Clark’s apartment. When Mayson arrived, she wanted to be as far from this place as she possibly could. She didn’t need to bear witness to Mayson and Clark entangled in an embrace, exchanging hungry kisses or whatever else they would do when they were on their own.
She’d prove him wrong, too.
Lois Lane would get a job at the hotel. There was no question about it!
***
“Lois!” Clark yelled after her.
It was too late. The door had already fallen shut behind her. He blinked at her sudden departure, wondering if Lois had developed superspeed or if his tired brain was simply too slow to keep up with her. Probably the latter, he admitted to himself and pondered following her. But then, what was the point? He couldn’t leave Mayson to deal with Intergang all on her own. That was completely out of the question. If something happened to her while he could have prevented it… how was he ever going to look at himself in the mirror again?
Enough people had died already because he’d been too slow, enough people had lost their homes and everything they possessed…
Clark took off his glasses, wiped his face with his free hand and breathed through the tightness deep in his chest, the terrible memories bubbling right up again. He pushed them away, reminding himself there was nothing he could have done to prevent this. There was no way he could be everywhere at once, save everyone, much as he wanted that.
Whatever he could do - it was enough, Lois had once told him.
He needed her so much.
And yet they were drifting apart and he was helpless to stop it.
How could his life spiral so thoroughly out of control in a matter of two days?
Clark sighed. Why couldn't Lois understand his need to keep Mayson safe? It was what he did, it was what she even admired him for. When he was dressed as Superman. And that was the heart of the whole problem - she didn't know.
Though Clark suspected that she wouldn't take any more kindly to his endeavor if she were aware of his other identity. Sure, if he kept hovering miles above the hotel, she might accept it. But Mayson wouldn't let Superman keep watch over her.
Shoulders slumped, Clark trudged back into his bedroom and resumed packing. He had to shave, too.
Clark didn't get far. Before he even managed to fold another shirt, his door bell rang.
Mayson.
She was early.
Clark looked at the open suitcase. Then he turned into a whirl, packed the rest at superspeed and changed into yet another set of clothes that seemed to fit the occasion. A few seconds later he was done.
“Coming,” he called.
When Clark opened the door, Mayson’s smile was so broad it nearly cracked her face. It stood in stark contrast to the way Lois had greeted him.
Mayson leaned in and kissed his cheek.
“Hi, there,” she whispered.
“Hello, Mayson.” Clark forced a smile on his face. “You look great.”
She really did. Mayson had skipped her usual skirt suit for wide pants and a cream white wrap sweater with a plunging neckline. Her blue eyes sparkled.
She grinned and reached out, running her hand down his stubbly check. “Trying something new?”
Clark suppressed an embarrassed groan. “No, actually, I was running late and didn't get around to shaving yet. Come on in, I'll just be a minute.”
“Don't,” Mayson said huskily. “I think I like the scrubby look. It's sexy on you.”
She let her gaze drift across his button down shirt that he’d rolled up at the sleeves, then back to his face. The way she smiled at him, her eyes hungry, almost predatory, Clark started to feel a little dizzy.
Decidedly different from the way Lois had greeted him.
With a mental slap, Clark reminded himself that he'd promised Lois to come clean with Mayson. This was all about keeping her safe, not about basking in her unabashed admiration.
He cleared his throat and pulled back before Mayson could take things any further. “I'm going to get my suitcase then.”
Mayson answered with a mock pout. “And here I thought this was going to be a relaxing weekend.”
Clark raised a brow. “Relaxing weekend? You don't believe Intergang means business?”
She shrugged. “With the police detail around, they probably won't try anything anyway. And if they do, Burke's men will stop them. They already lost their best assassin. Luthor’s unexpected reappearance shook them up and we’ve been collecting a ton of evidence. We're practically breathing down their necks as it is. I'll be safe at the conference, though it's really sweet of you that you're trying to protect me. My knight in shining armor.” Playfully, she slapped his arm.
“I’m not –” Clark clamped his mouth shut.
He’d been about to tell her that he wasn’t being chivalrous, that the protection he could provide just went beyond anything the police could offer. He closed his eyes and released a long breath. It wouldn’t help telling her that - on the contrary.
Mayson grinned. “See, that’s what I love so much about you - so incredibly modest. Come on, get your suitcase then.” She gave him a gentle shove toward his bedroom. “Thinking about it, I’d rather not miss Professor Harrison’s opening speech. I loved his lectures at law school.”
Clark complied, relieved to be left off the hook for the moment. As he went to fetch his luggage, he couldn’t help the sinking feeling that keeping Mayson safe wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d originally thought. She clearly wanted to move their relationship to the next level, while he was almost sure he just wanted them to be friends. It was bittersweet irony, since almost a year ago, he’d been at the receiving end of Lois’ not so gentle rejection of his declaration of love.
And if she really saw him in a different light now was anybody’s guess.
Mayson on the other hand knew what she wanted.
And that wasn’t Superman.
What a mess.
Clark raked a tired hand through his hair, picked up his suitcase and returned to Mayson. Perhaps his love life was something to contemplate later, when he’d had a good night’s sleep. For now, all he wanted was for Mayson to stay alive.
He’d seen enough death for one day, for a lifetime really.
“Clark, what’s the matter?” Mayson pulled him from his gloomy thoughts. “You look troubled.”
She laid an arm around his shoulder as they went to the door.
Clark shrugged her off. “Nothing. It’s just been a long day. I’m tired.”
“Trouble with Lois?” Mayson asked.
Clark shut the door behind them and sighed. “Let’s say she’s not supportive of my decision to accompany you.”
Mayson chuckled. “You don’t say! Really? The way I know her, she’d barge right into the conference if it will get her the story, no matter the cost. All she cares about is her next front page article, even if that means ruining our chances at getting rid of Intergang once and for all.”
“That’s not true! Lois wouldn’t… “ The words died on his lips. After all, she’d just suggested joining him undercover at the hotel. Not that she'd have a huge chance at succeeding.
“Oh, believe me, she would.” Mayson pressed her lips together and her jaw worked in anger, before she deliberately released it. A new smile blossomed on her face. “Come on now, I don’t want to spend this evening thinking about Lois Lane. Tonight, we're going to have an excellent dinner, then we’ll listen to Professor Harrisson. He’s an awesome speaker with a great sense of humor. You’ll love him…”
She linked arms with him and chatted on, while they walked down the stairs to her car. Clark’s mind was elsewhere. He hummed now and again, sat in the car and stared out of the window, while Mayson filed into the traffic leading out of Metropolis.
Clark leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, hoping Mayson would take the hint and give him some space. In the heat of the moment, going undercover at the hotel had seemed like a good idea. Now he wasn’t so sure. First and foremost, he wanted to keep Mayson safe. But he hadn’t really considered the fallout, not while he’d been preoccupied with his Superman duty on the other end of the world.
He’d promised Lois to come clean with Mayson.
Something he should have done weeks ago.
Clark opened his eyes and watched Mayson from the side. She bit down on her lower lip while she focused on the street in front of her. Her long curls framed her face, untamed and beautiful. Would he be able to forget Lois if he chose Mayson? Could Mayson ever be more to him than a consolation prize, the woman he chose because his true love didn’t want him? Would she ever be able to see more in Superman than a vigilante?
Clark rubbed the bridge of his nose. The truth was, he just didn’t know. He’d left Mayson guessing about his intentions while he’d tried to sort his complicated feelings. There was no simple way to solve his problem, not unless he revealed his secret. And once he did that - there was no going back.
Was he even ready for such a huge step?
Suddenly, Mayson interrupted the silence. “How was work?”
“Huh?” Deeply lost in his own thoughts as he was, Clark needed a moment to return to the present.
His mind raced. He didn’t have much of an idea what Lois might have been covering during his prolonged absence. Superman’s job had been too harrowing.
And it must have shown on his face, because when Mayson looked at him, she wore a sympathetic smile. “That bad, huh?”
Clark hummed noncommittally, not sure how to answer.
“It was Lois, huh? Bet she hated the Superman debacle.”
“Superman debacle?” His stomach tightened painfully. “What Superman debacle?”
Mayson huffed. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me that you and Lois are both too blind to realize what a danger the man poses.”
“He saved thousands of people,” Clark croaked.
His mind once again assaulted him with memories of the many, many people he’d failed. A wave of nausea rolled over him until he tasted bile. He swallowed it down, taking slow breaths to calm himself.
“Yeah, he did,” Mayson agreed. “But who told him which people to save? How does he decide? Already, there’s an uproar in several countries in that area, claiming Superman only helped US allies and ignored other countries. This could be the starting point of a diplomatic disaster. If Superman is viewed as a representative of the United States…”
Blood rushed in Clark’s ears. He hadn’t known about any of this. When he’d learned about the tsunami, he’d headed straight to the loudest cries for help, the place that - from his point of view - had sustained the most damage. He’d flown back and forth so many times, he wasn't even sure where he'd been. Knowing he couldn't be everywhere at once, he'd tried to make the most difference, to reach areas too remote to receive help from official sources.
Still, it was never enough.
“Superman’s not a representative of the United States,” Clark murmured. “He doesn't act based on alliances.” This wasn’t the first time he faced terrible accusations, but this one stung more than any other. “Do you really believe he's checking people's nationality before he pulls them out of the rubble?”
Mayson shot him a quick glance and the frown on her forehead smoothed. “No,” she amended. “No, I don't think he’s being partial. I guess he tries to help as best as he can. But that's not the point, is it?”
“It's not?”
“No, it's not. You should know me better than that, Clark. I just see Superman in a slightly different light than you and Lois do. I mean, I knew she was his biggest fan, but I always thought you were a little more objective. “
Clark chewed on his bottom lip. When it came to Superman, he was the least objective person imaginable.
“All I'm saying is – who controls him? He's the most powerful person on this planet and literally nothing can stop him. If he chose to overthrow governments…”
“I…” Clark caught himself just in time. “Superman would never do that.”
Mayson pursed her lips. “And I guess we've got to take his word for it.”
Her jaw worked as she stared ahead onto the street. The tense silence lasted a few moments, before she let out a slow breath and deliberately relaxed. She glanced sideways, a rueful smile on her lips.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start an argument about Superman. I know you’re friends and you trust him. My reservations toward him have nothing to do with us.”
Clark feigned a smile and nodded. Apology accepted, no hard feelings. He felt like a fraud. Who was he trying to fool? Her reservations toward him had everything to do with their relationship - or whatever it was they were having. Lois was right. He needed to come clean with Mayson soon. It wasn’t fair to lead her on, to let her believe they could ever be more than friends. If even that.
But for now, he needed to keep up the charade, or she’d never let him get close enough to protect her.
He closed his eyes and thought about the many people who could have lived if he’d been fast enough.
He wouldn’t fail Mayson.
He owed her that much.
Feedback goes here
