From Part 3 ...
He put his hands on her shoulders. “We *have* to get Clark out. Even with the lead, we can’t wait until I’m strong enough to pull over the cage by myself.”
“I know.”
He kissed her and she watched him jump into the elevator shaft. “Stay well back,” he called.
She ran into the penthouse. “Lois?” she said.
“Yes?”
“We’re going to use the elevator to pull over the cage. I have to go, but I’ll be back to help you get Superman out of here.”
TEMPUS: FOUR PLAY
PART 4
Not-our Lois waited, crouched next to Superman, observing the cage which imprisoned them both.
She saw the sheet rope tighten, then strain. Then strain more. Right when she was convinced the sheets could take no more, the cage wobbled momentarily, leant, then slowly, like an overbalancing giant, tipped. It seemed to hover, as if undecided whether to go or not, then with a loud, reverberating sound, clattered to the floor.
She heard a ‘twang’ and the sheet went loose.
Lois in the wedding dress came swiftly through the door. “Let’s get him out of here.”
The two women hauled off the lead strips. “One arm each,” Lois said.
They heaved him to a sitting position and wriggled under his arms. “On three.”
“One, two... three.”
With matched grunts, they stood. They shuffled across the floor, squeezed past the cage, through the door and along the corridor, out of the range of the Kryptonite.
His bullet wound was still open and gaping, visible through the torn spandex. “Come on Superman,” not-our Lois whispered as she smoothed his hair. “Heal yourself. We need you.”
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The crash of the cage was the first thing Tempus heard as he drifted through the shadows to consciousness. He stayed still and watched while the woman he loathed... two of them... dragged his hated enemy out of the penthouse.
He’d been *so* close. He’d had Superman helpless in the Kryptonite cage and Lois within a heartbeat of taking the ‘hip’.
If those other two hadn’t come in, he would have overpowered her and forced her to swallow it.
If those other two ...
They were the single blemish in his otherwise-flawless plan.
The battle, for today, was lost. The war, however, could still be won. But he needed to get to his underground shelter. He would be safe there. He could see to the necessities – like removing Lois’s fingerprint access. And if, as he escaped, he could even the odds for next time, so much the better.
He stood. His head felt like every brain cell was erupting. He unlocked a cupboard and took out another revolver. He checked it was loaded and unsteadily made his way to the door.
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“Will he be all right?” not-our Lois asked Lois as they both knelt over Superman.
“I hope so. Now he’s away from the Kryptonite, his body should regenerate.”
Not-our Lois heard a sound in the penthouse and looked to the doorway. Tex was there, hair uncharacteristically shambolic, face contorted with ferocious rage.
Not-our Lois spurted the length of the corridor. She had no definitive plan. She just knew she had to lure Tempus away from Superman.
She came to the elevator. A wooden block was holding the door ajar. Behind it was emptiness.
Tempus’s footsteps stilled behind her and she felt his vicious shove to her back. She plunged into the nothingness.
She tried to summon enough breath to scream. Then she felt the familiar sensation of strong arms around her. “Superman,” she breathed.
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Lois gasped as she saw Tempus push not-our Lois into the elevator shaft. Then he turned and strode towards her, leading with the revolver. “Lois Lane,” he sneered. “So smug, so self-satisfied. So pathetically ignorant that in the future you’re seen as the most galac -“
“Galactically stupid woman who ever lived,” she said dryly. “You’ve mentioned that before.”
His eyes narrowed and he lifted the gun to her head.
For the second time Lois saw his finger settle on the trigger. Then she heard a whirring sound and the revolver flew out of his hand. He glanced around, saw Superman and fled to the fire escape.
Lois ran down the corridor and threw herself into Superman’s arms.
He hugged her, then kissed her fully and freely, on her mouth.
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Clark, in the Suit, held his bridal Lois close. “Are you all right?” he asked. “He didn’t hurt you?”
“No. How did you stop him?”
He grinned. “Hurled the lead-wrapped bullet at his gun.”
She laughed. “*You* got *him* with Kryptonite. Nice touch.”
Clark buried his face into her sweet-smelling hair. He loved this woman so much. Her spirit. Her audacity. Her resourcefulness. Her unwavering love for him.
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Not-our Lois used a corner of the sheet rope to dab the sweat from Superman’s forehead. She looked up as the other Lois and her world’s Superman came towards her. He stopped and without the need for specific communication, she and Lois held the lead sheet across the penthouse doorway so he could pass.
He knelt and examined the Kryptonite-ravaged superhero. “We need to get him to Clark’s apartment,” he said. “We don’t want anyone seeing him like this. But I should go after Tempus. I can’t do both, my superspeed is still... not that super.”
“Tex will go to the shelt –,” not-our Lois said. A sudden memory stabbed her mind. “Oh no.”
“What’s wrong?” Lois asked.
“Clark! Your Clark! I locked him in the nuclear shelter. To keep him safe from the bullet. I intended to go back later, but I forgot. Tex will find him.”
Superman put his hand on her shoulder. “I got him out. He’s fine. I also destroyed the power source, all three of them. Tempus won’t find the refuge he’s expecting.”
Lois reached a friendly hand on her other shoulder. “Thanks,” she said.
“Lois, can you bring me the phone from the penthouse?” Superman asked bridal Lois. “I’ll call the police. They can deal with Tempus.”
“*You* are not using that phone,” she said with fervour.
“If you bring the phone out here, it’ll be all right.”
“You are *not* using that phone,” she repeated.
“Why not?”
“There’s a subliminal message on it.”
“I know, about the gun laws.”
“No, a different one.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure exactly, but it made Tempus like ... a clone on her wedding night.”
Comprehension dawned on Superman’s face and he laughed. “I think I could probably withstand it.”
“We are *not* taking the risk.”
The look he gave her was intensely intimate, like they shared a cluster of secrets, exclusive of everyone else.
He picked up Superman, walked along the corridor to the fire escape and flew slowly away.
Not-our Lois pulled the blonde wig from her head. Her fear for Clark had become a relentless ache. But right now, her thoughts were also with the other Clark. The Clark she had taken deep into Tex’s bomb shelter. The Clark who clearly loved his Lois more than life. The Clark whose wife had seemed to need reminding her husband was in danger.
The Clark who was too blind to see his wife and Superman were in love.
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Lois Lane Kent changed out of the wedding dress in not-our Clark’s apartment. Clark had gone, as Superman, with the police. Tempus had been found staggering through his nuclear shelter with a flashlight. Clark was out again now, patrolling, being seen, offsetting any potential rumours about Superman being rendered powerless by a green cage.
Not-our Superman lay on not-our Clark’s bed, still unconscious. The wound had begun to close over. They could only hope healing was happening internally as well.
Not-our Lois was slumped in the corner of the couch, unresponsive, unspeaking, eyes unfocussed.
The door opened and Clark entered. Not-our Lois startled and stood from the couch, hope birthing on her face. “I’m not your Clark,” Clark said quickly, showing her his wedding ring.
Not-our Lois collapsed back onto the couch, silent tears cascading down her cheeks. Clark crouched beside her and took her hand in his. “I think Clark will be all right,” he said.
“Then *where* is he?” she cried. “He’s not here, he’s not at the Planet. Perry rang everywhere. No one has seen him since before the bullet fired.” She glared at him and withdrew her hand. “And don’t give me the ‘one bullet’ story. Tex said there was a Kryptonite bullet and there was. He wasn’t bluffing.”
“Superman will look for him.”
She turned away.
Lois went into the bedroom and Clark followed. He checked on not-our Clark. “He’s improving,” he said.
“How about you?”
“Almost back to one hundred percent.”
Lois went into his arms and rested her head on his chest. “How can we help Lois?” she asked quietly. “She’s hurting so bad now. She is sure Clark is dead.”
“We can’t tell her he’s alive without telling her ...”
“Maybe that’s what we should do.”
“It’s not our secret to tell, Lois. Anything we alter, they have to deal with.”
“So we should allow them to keep bumbling around, continually colliding into a glass barricade she doesn’t know is there and he thinks is impenetrable?” She backed away so she could see his face. “I know how she’s feeling.” Her voice shook with the memory. “We *have* to tell her.”
Clark sighed and glanced at not-our Clark lying on the bed. “Would they want us to interfere?”
“That night, after I’d seen Clyde shoot you, the night I thought you were dead... was the worst night of my life. Worse than the night you went to New Krypton –“
“Worse than that?” he said, a tremor in his voice.
“In a sense, yes. Because then you were alive and you knew I loved you. But the night I thought you were dead ... so much regret, so many wasted opportunities, so much left unsaid. I thought the best thing in my life had ended before it even started.”
“Are you sure? About telling her?”
“She believes he died thinking she’d married Tempus.”
Clark pulled her against him again. “I’ll tell her,” he said.
“No, I’ll do it.” She moved away and smiled teasingly. “Last time, you rehearsed for months and still didn’t get it right.”
She sat next to not-our Lois, who gave no indication she was aware of her nearness.
“Lois,” Lois said softly.
She turned and Lois saw her face was desolate with hopelessness.
“Lois, I understand how you’re feeling.” She put her hand on not-our Lois’s arm.
She recoiled from the touch. “How could *you* understand? Your Clark’s here, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“A few years ago, Clark and I were working on a story and we went to a gaming club. One of the crooks threatened me and Clark stepped in to protect me and was shot. Three times. In the chest.”
Her eyes widened a little.
“They took his body away and I was inconsolable. I knew I loved him, but I hadn’t told him. I thought I’d lost my chance. I thought I’d lost the only man I would ever truly love. I thought he’d died without knowing how I felt.”
Not-our Lois’s expression hardened, but she was still listening.
“The thing was, Clark wasn’t dead, but he couldn’t tell me because if he did, he would have had to tell me something else... something he had kept secret for a very long time.”
“So he just let you believe he was dead?”
“He didn’t know my heart was breaking. He didn’t know how much I cared. He found a way to come back. And I got a second chance.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she said, tone brusque.
“Because it’s exactly the situation you’re in now.”
Not-our Lois was still for a very long moment. “My Clark isn’t dead?” she whispered, not daring to hope.
“No.”
“You know that for sure?”
“Yes.”
Not-our Lois put her hand to her mouth. “But he can’t tell me?”
“No.” Lois offered her the box of tissues. “Do you love Clark?”
Not-our Lois wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Yes. I do.”
“Clark? Or Superman?”
“Clark,” she declared with certainty. “I’m so sorry Superman is hurt and I feel awful because it’s my fault. I should be in there with him now. But I can’t. I just want Clark.”
“But you married Tempus today.”
“I didn’t realise... no that’s not true... I did realise... eventually... too late. Clark always seemed to think we belonged together... that it was just a matter of time... but he kept running away... and Tex was... there... and somehow... I got caught up in his charm... and by the time I knew I loved Clark... it was too late.” She looked up shamefaced. “I doubt you’ve ever done anything so stupid.”
“Yes, I have. Just as stupid.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Not-our Lois clutched Lois’s arm. “Tell me where Clark is,” she pleaded. “I don’t care about knowing any secrets. I don’t care if I never know. Just tell me where I can find Clark. Please.”
Lois stood and walked to her husband who had been listening to their conversation. She removed his glasses and gave them to not-our Lois. “Go to Superman,” she said. “Put these on him and muss his hair a little.”
Not-our Lois took the glasses uncertainly, her face a labyrinth of questions. She walked to the bedroom. She sat on the bed and slipped the glasses on Superman. She hesitantly untidied his hair, withdrew her hand and stared at him for a long moment.
Lois and Clark followed her into the bedroom and stood watching, his arm draped across her shoulders.
“Now, imagine him with a shirt and tie instead of the Suit,” Lois said. “Imagine him at the Planet, imagine working with him.”
“Cl -?” Her voice strangled. “Clark?”
Not-our Lois fell onto his chest in a jumble of tears and elation and hope and disbelief. His arm curled around her, although he showed no other sign of consciousness.
After a long moment, his Lois looked up from the haven of the broad, blue spandex-covered chest, her still tear-stained face radiating with deep joy. She looked directly at Lois. “So you *do* love Clark?”
“Yes,” said Lois, unsure how she could think anything else.
She gave a mischievous smile. “I was convinced you were having an affair with Superman.”
“Oh, she is,” Clark said, as he retrieved his glasses. “She most definitely is.”
Lois and Clark moved into the kitchen and into each other’s arms. “Nicely done,” said Clark, between kisses.
“Thank you,” said Lois. “Any chance we can get home soon? I have an affair to continue.”
He pulled back regretfully. “We should wait until Clark is –“.
Lois saw his abrupt look of faraway concentration and pushed him away playfully. “Go, save the world,” she said. “Just refrain from the *foolproof strategies* or you’ll leave behind a thousand broken hearts.”
He kissed her nose with a big grin and spun into the suit.
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Not-our Clark was slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. Not that they made any sense. He was in the Superman suit. He could feel the cape snag every time he tried to change position. Yet people were calling him Clark.
And one of those people, he was certain was Lois.
He drifted off to sleep and when he woke again, he was sure someone was putting on his glasses. He felt a gentle touch on his hair.
“Clark,” he heard and was sure it was Lois’s voice.
He felt the warm weight on his chest and moved his arm around her, desperate for her to stay.
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The next time he woke, the wonderful weight was gone. He opened his eyes. He must have been dreaming about the glasses because he wasn’t wearing them now.
Lois was there, sitting next to his bed, watching him.
“Lois.”
“Clark.”
She moved onto his bed and smoothed her hand over his forehead. So lovingly. This had to be a dream too. Lois from the other universe would never touch him like that. Unless –
He tried to sit up, but his head roared in protest. He pushed her hand away. “No, Lois. No.”
She ignored him and her hand continued caressing him. It felt so good. But he couldn’t let her... he had to tell her. He could see the unconcealed love in her beautiful brown eyes. He remembered that look – he’d seen it more than once when Lois had thought he was her Clark. Her hand brushed over his cheek. It felt so amazingly good.
“It’s me, Lois,” he said desperately. “Please don’t touch me. Please go away.”
He closed his eyes and resolutely turned away from temptation.
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Lois Lane Kent was making tea in not-our Clark’s kitchen. She’d chuckled as she had searched for the kettle in the depths of the cupboards.
She heard a sob behind her and turned to see not-our Lois coming out of the bedroom. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“He doesn’t want me.”
“He’s still knocked around by the Kryptonite.”
“He told me to go away.”
Lois sat down, puzzled. Not-our Clark loved his Lois, of that she was sure. So why...? “Did you call him Clark? Or Superman?”
“Clark. Once I put on the glasses, it was so obvious.” She blushed. “I can’t believe I was so blind.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“You didn’t see it either?”
“Not for a long time.”
They looked at each other and slowly, a mutual smile blossomed and they gave mirroring shrugs. “It’s just, I feel so... dumb.”
“Yeah,” Lois agreed, nodding. “But that’s not important. What’s important is what you do now. If you love him, you need to tell him. Clearly. So there’s no misunderstanding.”
“But he said he didn’t want me to touch him.”
“You called him Clark. He thought you were me.”
“Ohhhh.”
Lois patted her arm, feeling like a big sister. “Now get back in there and don’t come out until he’s the happiest man in this world.”
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Not-our Clark stared at the wall. He could hear the murmur of voices in his kitchen, but his superhearing wasn’t working well enough to distinguish any words. He did know it was Lois’s voice. Times two. That *had* to mean trouble, he thought and couldn’t help smiling, despite the lingering pain in his body and the still-rampant pain in his heart.
Lois had married Tempus.
Maybe she was blackmailed into it.
But it still sliced him to shreds.
He heard a movement behind him and turned. Lois was there. Dressed the same as before. The other Clark’s Lois. His Lois wouldn’t even come to him.
“Clark,” she said with a smile.
“Where’s your husband?” he said, determined she would know who he was before she had a chance to touch him.
“In jail.”
Not-our Clark shot up, wincing. “They put Clark in jail?” he gasped. He flung off the bed covers and tried to rise. “I’ll go and -“
She stopped him with a firm but gentle touch on his shoulder. It lingered a heartbeat longer than necessary and he flinched.
“I’m Lois from this world,” she said, a smile in her lovely eyes. “The one who was foolish enough to marry Tempus. *He’s* in jail. Not that he’ll be my husband for long. I’ve already applied for an annulment.”
His heart thumped so hard he was sure his ‘S’ was vibrating. “But you called me *Clark*?” he said falteringly.
She smiled again. When she was smiling, he knew everything was going to be all right. And even if it wasn’t, he didn’t care. Not when those beautiful eyes were smiling at him. “I know your big secret,” she said, with just a hint of triumph. “Clark.”
He grimaced. “How mad are you?”
“If you can forgive me for marrying Tempus, I can forgive you for not telling me.”
An enormous load rolled off his heart. He could be open with her, honest. About Superman anyway. But his feelings... maybe not. His declaration of love sat wedged between them. If he took it back, they could be friends again. He could see her every day. Tease her. Be her partner. Her best friend. It wasn’t perfect, but it was more, a whole lot more, than he had thought possible.
“Lois –“
“Clark –“
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“There’s something *I* need to tell you.”
“Let me go –.“ Clark’s words thundered into not-our Clark’s consciousness. *Let* *her* *speak* *first*. “... second,” he said. “You go first.”
“Will you do something for me... before I speak?”
“Anything.”
“Would you mind getting out of the Superman Suit?” She blushed furiously. “Into Clark’s clothes, I mean.”
He didn’t know whether to relish her embarrassment or try to hide his own. “I usually spin... so fast you couldn’t see anything, but I can’t...” He gestured to the doorway. “Would you mind leaving for a minute?”
He called her back when he was in his jeans and flannel shirt, hair unfettered and glasses in place. He straightened the bed and stood, waiting for her, profoundly nervous about what she was going to say.
She came in and stood before him. She took a deep breath. Then another.
He braved a light touch on her arm. “You can tell me anything,” he said. “We’re friends, remember?”
“I know my timing sucks, considering I married Tempus today,” she said. “But that was only because he was threatening to kill you and Super-... well just you as it turns out. But I did agree to marry him, which was so dumb, but I didn’t know he was so evil and had murdered all those people, even though you told me... and we were fighting all the time and whenever I tried to talk to you, you kept leaving and I knew there was something you weren’t telling me and it wasn’t until after you said you were in love with me that I realised.”
She stopped to draw breath.
Not-our Clark shook his head slightly, trying to piece together the fragments. “Realised what?” he asked gently.
She locked her eyes into his. “How I feel about you,” she whispered.
He swallowed. Waited. When she didn’t continue, he said, “Any chance you’d like to tell me?”
“I love you, Clark.”
A wave of dizziness threatened to knock him off his feet. She stepped closer and put her hand on his chest. If her intent had been to steady him, her touch had exactly the opposite effect. He sat on the bed. “As a friend?” he said, voice quivering. “You love me as a friend?”
She laughed, warm and loving. “Yes.” She sat next to him and tenderly spread her hands around his face. Her thumbs reached to his lips and caressed them. “I love you as a friend. But more ... much more. I love you the way a woman loves the man of her heart.”
Clark’s heart exploded. Surely he was still unconscious. Surely this couldn’t really be happening. He’d had this dream before – and a thousand variations.
Then she leant into him – and her mouth found his – and her hands roved across the back of his neck, pulling him closer - and if he *was* dreaming, he had no intention of ever waking up.
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Lois and Clark, arm in arm, stood opposite Lois and Clark, hand in hand.
“I had Henderson destroy the Kryptonite from the cage,” Clark said.
Not-our Clark shook Clark’s hand. “Thank you,” he said, heavy with appreciation. “Thank you. For everything.”
The Loises embraced and then hugged each other’s Clarks.
“I guess the ‘luckiest man alive’ club just doubled in membership,” Clark said with a grin.
Not-our Clark beamed with deep contentment. “Thanks for your timely advice,” he said. “Is there anything else I should remember?”
Clark took the inter-dimensional transporter from his pocket. “Go with her when she gets dressed for your wedding. Do *not* let her out of your sight. Not for one second.”
Not-our Lois blushed a little. “Won’t that spoil the surprise?”
“Believe me,” Clark said with an almost imperceptible shudder. “It’s a surprise you can do without.”
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Lois and Clark Kent lay on their bed, she cocooned into his side with his arm snug around her.
“I envy them,” Lois said. “Just a little. They have so much in front of them.”
Clark laughed. “Yep, like almost dates and failed weddings and false paternity claims and enough tortuous restraint to drive a man crazy.”
“Ok, maybe I don’t envy them. Maybe I envy us.” Her hand began circling his chest, dropping lower with each revolution.
He caught her hand, stilling it in the pit of his stomach. “Not until you answer one question,” he said.
“Ok.”
“How could you tell which Superman was me? You needed my wedding ring to tell which Clark was yours, but you always knew with Superman.”
“I could tell by the superb definition of your chest.”
He took her captured hand to his lips and gently bit her fingers. “Don’t lie to me, beautiful wife. I saw his chest and it’s just as defined as mine.”
She giggled as his biting turned to nibbling, then to kissing. “It was your hair.”
“My hair?”
“When you’re Superman, you part your hair straight back and then across, sort of like an ‘L’”
“What does he do?”
“Sweeps it back on both sides.”
“So it was the ‘L’?”
“Uh huh. The ‘L’ ... like you‘re marked as mine.”
He lifted her fully onto his chest. “Always.” He kissed her. “Forever.” Kiss. “In my heart.” Kiss. “Everywhere else.”
She nestled her body even closer into his. “Now,” she purred. “About those *special techniques* of yours ...”
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Thanks for reading!
