Martha stood. "We should get back to Smallville," she said. "We might be able to help them."
Lois stood, too. "But won't that take hours? Won't they have left by the time you get back?"
"Perhaps we should stay in Metropolis and be here when they arrive," Martha suggested with a glance at her husband.
Lois took a few steps away from the little group. "Why don't you fly them home, Clark?" she said over her shoulder. "I'm going to order some Chinese takeout. I'm starving."
His mom and dad spun to Clark, their faces vivid with questions. He responded with a baffled shrug. They all turned to Lois.
She had picked up the phone. When she finished dialling, she noticed them gaping at her. "Go on," she said with a gesture towards the door. "You'll be back by the time the takeout arrives, Clark. You must be hungry, too."
She turned away and began speaking into the phone, giving the details of her order.
Utterly devoid of ideas about what he should do now, Clark obediently spun into the Suit, wordlessly picked up his parents, and flew them to Smallville, Kansas.
Part 15
Clark flew back to Metropolis at less than superspeed, giving himself some much-needed time to sort through the conglomeration of scrambled questions that were glugging up his brain.
Lois knew.
She knew he was Superman. She knew he had been lying to her for the entire length of their friendship.
She knew that, despite having declared his love for her, he hadn't been willing to tell her the whole truth about himself.
It had never seemed to matter to Lois that Superman was an alien. Would it matter that Clark Kent - her friend and partner, and the man she had risked her life trying to save - was an alien?
Clark didn't know. He had always worried about being different.
Were those differences now going to rob him of everything - real and hoped for - he had with Lois?
Pulling stands of logic from the confusion, he managed enough equanimity to realise that his most pressing decision was how to re-enter his own apartment.
Should he fly to the balcony and walk in as Superman?
Should he fly to the alley near his home, spin into his jeans and shirt, and walk into his apartment via the door?
Or should he just appear in his living room?
Lois knew he could fly.
Lois. Knew. He. Could. Fly.
For over a year, he had worried because she didn't know. Now that she did, the previously simmering tension had risen to boiling point. She knew his secret. He had wanted that. But he'd never been able to overcome his fear about what would happen after she knew.
He suspected it would be as ferocious and destructive as the detonation of a bomb.
How long had she known?
Had she worked it out sometime during the long hours of the night when Superman had been rescuing trapped train passengers and Clark Kent had supposedly been running from a murder charge?
Regardless of when she had realised the truth - truth that, in some ways, had been playing out in front of her for a year - Clark was pretty sure the consequences were going to get ugly.
She was probably working up to it right now. She was probably recalling all the times he had been less than honest with her. Probably fuming over how he had continually deceived her.
What was he going to face when he walked back into his apartment?
Cold detachment? Fiery anger? Cutting sarcasm?
Would she even be there?
But how bad would it be? How long would it last? And what would be the eventual cost of the fallout?
She must have known when she'd pulled back his shirt and kissed his chest.
He'd been so shocked by her action that his memory of it had already lost clarity.
Would she ever kiss him again?
She had angrily poked Superman's chest and inexplicably kissed Clark's. Based on that, Clark landed in the alley, spun into his jeans and shirt, and approached his door with faltering steps as his heart thumped wildly in his chest.
He tapped lightly but didn't wait for her to answer. He opened the door, slipped in, and carefully locked it behind him, praying there would be no further interruptions.
His apartment was empty.
Then he saw movement on the balcony, and Lois came through the door and walked towards him. "I know how you left without Mrs McCreadie seeing you last night," she said.
Clark slowly descended the stairs, feeling like a man awaiting his sentence.
She continued past his kitchen and walked right up to him. "Good flight?" she asked.
He buried his hands in his pockets and forced himself to face her. "Lois," he said. It was a plea for information. And understanding. And mercy.
"Yes, Clark?" she said as if she were oblivious to the fact that suggesting a flight to Kansas without the aid of an airplane was in any way unusual.
He swallowed. He could feel the explosion gathering momentum. "Please. Please don't -" Please don't hate me. Please don't reject me.
"I know why you didn't go to the police station as soon as you knew they were looking for you," Lois said.
All he could manage was a nod as he desperately tried to discern his future in her face.
"I know how you managed to get the gun into the subway without anyone seeing Clark Kent."
"Ah ..."
"I know why you keep running off at the most inopportune moments."
"They are inopportune for me, too," he said, hoping her resentment would leave her some capacity to glimpse his point of view.
"Yeah, I suppose they are."
Clark couldn't stand the tension anymore. "Lois, I understand if you're mad at me. I understand if you're hurt that I lied to you all this time. I understand if you want to redefine whatever it is we have defined about our relationship. Whatever that might be. Or not."
"You're babbling," she said, her mouth twitching.
"Lois, I've wanted to tell you -"
"What I don't understand is how you thought you could continue to be two people and not eventually face something like this."
"I ... I can move pretty quickly," he offered tentatively. "That helps."
A knock sounded on the door, and Clark growled with frustration.
Lois's hand landed lightly on his arm. "See who it is," she suggested. "If it's anyone other than the takeout delivery kid, we'll ignore it."
Clark turned his head, lowered his glasses, and looked through the door. "It's the takeout," he said.
"Great," Lois said. She sprang away from him, grabbed her bag from the couch, and sprinted up the stairs. "I feel as if I haven't eaten in a week."
Clark watched in a daze as she paid the delivery kid and then brought the steaming boxes of food back to him. She set them on the coffee table and went to his kitchen to get cutlery and plates.
When she sat down on the couch, the normalcy of two friends sharing a meal felt like fate taunting him.
Everything had changed.
She knew.
Lois knew she was sharing this meal with Superman.
While she ladled the food onto the plates, Clark tried to calm his spinning mind. From its confusion, he managed to form the most important question.
She offered him one of the plates.
He took it without even glancing at the food. "Does this change anything?" he asked.
"It changes everything," she said, her calm acceptance cutting deeper than the outrage he had been expecting.
"Everything?" he gulped.
"You won't have to make up lame excuses whenever someone needs Superman. At least, not to me. You can just disappear and leave me to make up the lame excuses."
"Lois, this isn't a joke."
She paused from filling her plate. "What is worrying you, Clark?"
"You *must* be angry," he said. "You've just put your life in danger because of your strength of belief about who I am, only to discover that you didn't know me at all."
She looked a bit surprised at his outburst. "I knew the important things," she said, sounding just a little defensive. "I knew you would never kill. I knew you would never run away from trouble."
"But I do," he exclaimed. "I run away all the time."
"You run *towards* trouble, not away from it," she said.
"Lois, I can't believe you're taking this so calmly. I think that when you realise how long I lied to you, you're going to be really mad at me."
She placed the serving spoon on her plate and contemplated him. "Why would you tell me anything about yourself when the time you did open your heart, I trampled all over it?"
Surprise drained away his stream of questions.
Her smile peeped out like the dawn of re-connection. "Clark, I wasn't honest with you about who I am either. I'm a lonely and fearful woman, who freaked out when real love threatened to crumble her walls of isolation. You uncovered the real me - which made me feel vulnerable and scared, so I ran away. Now, I've uncovered the real you. Maybe that makes you feel vulnerable and scared. Maybe you need time to realise that I'm not going to use what I know to hurt you." Her hand inched forward, and her fingertips pressed into the skin of his forearm. "But I'm really hoping you won't run away."
Clark stared at her, paralysed by her touch and astounded by her words. "I won't," he said in a voice that crackled with emotion. "I don't want to ever run away from you."
"I won't tell anyone," Lois said as the side of her thumb slid gently over his skin. "I promise."
"I never thought you would tell anyone ... write a story, or something like that."
"Of course I won't. It's going to be an adjustment for both of us. But I think we can do it."
"As partners?" Clark asked.
She nodded.
"And friends?"
"Best friends," she replied.
"And ... and ... you said you regretted the day in Centennial Park."
"Clark …"
Now it looked as if she regretted her impulsive moment of openness just before Wolfe had barged into her apartment and arrested him for Mayson's murder. Clark could feel her backing away. He could feel his hopes slipping beyond his reach.
"Clark, you have to be really confused right now," Lois said. "You have to be grieving about Mayson and shocked about Lana and trying to come to terms with me knowing about Superman." Her hand slipped past his wrist to rest on his balled-up fist. "I just think you need some time. I promised you I wouldn't push you into anything."
"But …"
"But when you've had some time …" She gave him a little smile. "I think that what you need most of all now is a friend."
"Sometimes I hate that word," he said bitterly.
She didn't flinch. Didn't draw away. "I'm not running away from how I feel about you," she said. "I'm acknowledging the strength of our bond of friendship. It will always be there."
Clark released a breath. "Lois, Mayson paid a huge price because I couldn't be honest with her about my feelings."
"And you paid a price when you were honest with me about your feelings."
"What happened to Mayson …" His grief rose again, a wave of sorrow, tainted with guilt and anger.
"… is not your fault."
"If only I'd -"
"If you'd told her you weren't in love with her, she could have been on the train that crashed in the subway," Lois said. "We can't know the consequences of everything we do." Her hand squeezed his. "Even Superman can't see into the future."
"I wish he could."
Her smile flickered. "Would you like me to give you a glimpse of the future as I see it?" she said.
Clark nodded, hoping she wouldn't remove her hand.
"You need some time. You were friends with Mayson, and you need time to grieve for her. You're probably going to be concerned for Lana and her baby. I don't think you should make any decisions now. But when you're ready, I'll be waiting for you."
He needed more now. "Show me what happens after some time has passed."
Her hand lifted from his, and she reached up to glide her fingers through his hair, just above the wing of his glasses. "Then I think I'll take you somewhere and tell you how I feel about you."
As her arm lowered, he grabbed her hand, enclosing it in both of his. "What will you say?"
Lois smiled softly. "I might borrow some lines from you. Something like …'I have been in love with you for a long time. You must have known.'"
Something had syphoned every last ounce of oxygen from his apartment. "What happens then?" Clark said in a breathy whisper.
"That will be up to you."
"Lois …"
She stood. He followed her to his feet. Moments stretched interminably as she slid her arms around his neck and hugged him. Clark's arms closed around her back, and he clung to her.
Very slowly, his fears seeped away, dissolving in the strength of her acceptance. The power of her love.
He would have been content to hold her for hours in silent celebration of the most wonderful friendship of his life. Too soon, she slipped from his embrace. "Come on," she said, yawning as she spoke. "Let's eat before it gets cold."
They sat on his couch and took their plates on their knees.
"Perry's hoping for a follow-up story on the subway," Lois said. "Does Superman have anything else to add that he might be willing to tell his two favourite reporters?"
Clark smiled, touched by her attempt to smooth their transition from a triangle of two reporters and a superhero to a difficult-to-define duo with three identities. "I didn't see any sign of sabotage," he said.
"Any cracks or weaknesses in the wall?"
"From what I saw, I think the most likely scenario is that a few bits of the tunnel fell onto the track. That was enough to derail the train. It crashed into the wall, bringing down a large section that was possibly already weakened."
Lois chewed thoughtfully. "So it was just an accident?"
"I think so. I'm sure there will be questions about maintenance, but after all the angst and finger-pointing, I think they'll realise it was just an unfortunate series of events."
"We could write a story - use some Superman quotes - and try to shut down the worst of the speculation before it takes hold. If someone was negligent, that needs to be investigated. But if it were simply a terrible accident, all the conjecture isn't going to help the grieving families."
"I think that's a good idea," Clark said. "If Superman says he didn't see anything other than a tragic accident, people might be willing to accept that." He didn't add that Superman still had credibility because Lois Lane had managed to extricate him from an obstruction of justice charge.
She gave him a smile, and his thoughts slipped back to his question about whether everything was going to change. This had changed - they could talk openly as reporting partners without the spectre of his secret coming between them.
"Are you going to write a follow-up story on Lana as well?" he asked.
Lois nodded. "Yeah."
"Are you going to include your part in getting the evidence that led to her arrest?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't think it's relevant," Lois said. "And I don't think the other papers will run it either. Wolfe won't want to reveal how close he came to charging the wrong person. Mrs McCreadie has already said she doesn't want to speak to the papers. I think it's best if we just let it drop."
"You don't feel …" Clark wasn't sure how to word the rest of his question.
"… animosity for Lana?" Lois finished for him. "No," she said. "I did for a while - from what I knew, she didn't seem to care at all about your life or how she affected it. But when I came here dressed as a tramp, it wasn't about hurting her, it was about helping you."
His gratitude for what she had done for him rose again, tightening his throat. "Lois …"
She paused, her fork halfway to her mouth as she waited for him to continue.
He wanted to say so much, but the words were hurtling around his mind at such speed, he couldn't grasp any of them.
She lowered her fork back to the plate. "I think there's a lot more to Lana's story than just a self-centred woman who lost control when she couldn't get what she wanted."
"You do?" Clark asked, not knowing if he were relieved or disappointed that the moment had slipped away empty.
"She said she'd been raped by a cop in Rome. She said that when she tried to report it, the other officers refused to act on her report."
"Do you believe her?"
"Yes," Lois said after a moment's consideration. "Yes, I think I do."
"Poor Lana," Clark muttered. "Dad and Mom said she had been acting erratically since she returned home from Europe."
"Maybe she felt trapped. And abused. And angry."
"I hope the baby is going to be all right."
"Did she say whether she wants to keep the baby?" Lois asked. "Do you think she'd give it up for adoption?"
"She said she wanted to give it a proper family."
The conversation halted. Clark figured Lois was thinking what he was thinking - that a prison was a long way from a 'proper family'.
"Your parents said her family would be supportive," Lois said.
Suddenly, Clark experienced a flash of inspiration.
"What?" Lois said. She was smiling at him, which made his idea all the sweeter.
"Ray and Millie - Lana's parents - had three girls. Some summers, he'd pay me to go and help on his farm, and more than once, he said he loved his daughters, but he'd always dreamed of having a son to help him with the farm."
"Did Lana mention if the baby is a boy or a girl?"
"No," Clark said. "Ah … I looked."
Lois's little spurt of shock quickly changed to a smile. "It's a boy?"
"Yes."
"So you think Lana's parents might be willing to look after him?"
"I think so. Particularly if they can get a lawyer who can bring out the trauma of having been raped and get her a reduced sentence."
Lois took another mouthful of food. Clark knew what she was thinking - that Lana was going to face a murder charge and there was very little chance of leniency. "Lana's parents sound like good people," she said.
"They are. They've been our neighbours for years. Having a grandson won't make up for losing their daughter …"
"… but at least the little boy will be well looked after."
Clark put his empty plate on the table and sat back in the couch. He couldn't remember tasting even a single mouthful of the food, but he felt better.
Perhaps it had been the food.
No - he didn't believe that. He felt better because Lois was with him.
She knew everything about him.
And she still chose to be with him.
She also finished her meal and put her plate on the coffee table. "Lana said she tried to blackmail you into marrying her. She said she threatened to tell -"
"Is that how you knew about me?" Clark asked, suddenly alarmed. "Did she tell anyone else?"
Lois's response was a placid smile. "You thought she knew about -"
"Did she?" Clark asked anxiously. "Is it on the tape? Did she tell Wolfe and Henderson?"
"Oh, she spilled your secret all right," Lois said, still smiling. "And it's on the tape."
"Lois -" He'd meant her name to gush out, driven by the apprehension he should be feeling at the possibility of his secret becoming public knowledge. But Lois was smiling. Which meant she wasn't worried. Which meant she had probably already dealt with this situation - just as she had dealt with him being accused of murder. "What did you do?" he asked, knowing he was very close to smiling.
"She didn't actually tell you the secret she knew?"
"Not in exact words. But she said we had known each other for a long time. She said we knew things about each other that no one else knew."
"So you assumed she was referring to your penchant for tights?"
Lois's teasing tone drove away more of the heaviness clustered in the corners of his soul. Everything *hadn't* changed. So much that he loved had survived the storm. "My mother made the Suit," Clark said, trying to sound stern. "You should show some respect."
"Oh, I'm very respectful," she said, looking anything but.
It felt wonderful - Lois teasing Superman. Because teasing indicated acceptance. And he had yearned for acceptance from the moment he had realised he was different. Dragging his mind back to their conversation, Clark said, "What did Lana tell you about me?"
"She made some allegations about your lack of manliness because you were never intimate with her."
"*That* was her secret?"
Lois nodded, her grin still playing around her mouth. But Clark's relief was tainted with horror. It was preferable to Lana announcing he was Superman, but still …
"Don't look so worried," Lois said.
"I … She said *that*, and it's on the tape?"
Lois nodded. She didn't look perturbed at all. "Don't worry about it," she said.
"I'm not," he hurried to declare. But …
Lois moved along the couch, shuffling within easy touching distance, although her hands stayed in her lap. "Clark, I'm not sure what you were thinking when you said nothing could kill your love for me, but I was thinking that - at the right time - that sort of love would involve intimacy."
Clark could only gulp and nod.
"So when people see us together - obviously happy - no one is going to give a second thought to what Lana said."
"Do you believe her?"
"I believe that you didn't sleep with her," Lois said. "And I think I know why."
"Why?"
"Because you didn't want to get that close to someone who didn't know everything about you."
It was true, but Clark's mind had scurried ahead to possible conclusions Lois might have drawn from that comprehension. "You know everything about me," he said.
"Uhmm," she said, her mouth tight, but her eyes giving away that she was enjoying his discomfort - just a little bit.
He had to tell her everything. "I haven't … haven't … gone the whole way," he said, feeling his face and neck flame to deep red.
"I figured that."
"You -" His exclamation crashed to a dead stop. "Does *that* change anything?"
"Yeah."
"What?" He squeezed the question out from a tight throat.
"It makes it awkward for me to suggest what I had planned to suggest." Before Clark could form any sort of response, Lois stood and began collecting up their plates. "I'm exhausted," she said as she took the things to his kitchen counter. "I need to sleep. You might not be physically tired, but I'm sure you could use some rest."
All Clark could do was nod as he straggled behind her.
"I don't want to leave you here alone, and anyway, I'm sure I'd fall asleep in the cab before it reached my apartment."
"You …" Clark tried to look casual. "You want me to take you home?"
"No."
"You want to stay here?"
Lois nodded as she gathered up the leftover food from the coffee table. "I promised Perry some stories later, but I can't write anything until I've had some sleep."
"You can have my bed."
She deposited the boxes in his fridge. "Only if you come, too." Clark clamped down on a squeak of shock. "Just to sleep," she said, hurrying on. "I can borrow some of your pyjamas. It would be fine. I'm too tired for anything else. And you must be exhausted -"
"I can have the couch."
"No. If you're on the couch, you'll only be a few yards from where Mayson was killed." Lois stopped in front of him and extended her hand towards him. "I think you need to be with your friend."
Clark took her hand. "But …"
"We will always be there for each other," Lois said. "I'm not going to stop being your friend just because I have finally realised how much you mean to me."
"Are you sure it will be all right?"
"I'm sure." She covered a long yawn. "I *really* need to sleep."
"I'll get you something to wear," Clark said, reluctantly slipping his hand from hers.
"Thanks."
Five minutes later - unbelievably - Clark was in his bed with Lois by his side. He lay on his back, knowing there was no chance of him falling asleep. Not with her there.
She rose up onto her elbow and patted his shoulder. "Can I use this as my pillow?"
"Y…yes."
"Clark," she said. "I know this is weird, but all I'm trying to do is get some sleep without leaving you."
"I know."
"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable."
"Do I look uncomfortable?"
"Yes."
He gave a hesitant smile. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Just stop looking at me like I'm freaking you out."
After everything she had done for him, he could do that for her. Clark squeezed her hand as it lay on his shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Lie down."
She snuggled into his side, put her head on the upper slope of his chest, and rested her arm across his stomach.
Clark closed his eyes. Immediately his mind filled with Lana and Lois. Lana, pointing a gun at Lois.
"It's OK," came Lois's voice. "We're going to be fine."
Less than a minute later, her regular breaths told him she was asleep. Clark tightened his arm around her.
She had been right. This was perfect. He needed her. He needed her to keep his imagination in check. He needed her presence to buoy his hope that everything was going to be all right.
Better than all right.
Lois hadn't actually said that she loved him, but she'd promised that when the time was right, she would tell him that she had been in love with him for a long time.
Pure joy wrapped around his heart.
Lois loved him.
Lois believed in him.
Lois knew everything about him.
Clark rolled his head a few inches and dropped a kiss into her hair.
"I love you, Lois," he whispered. "Thank you for rescuing me."
