Ambivalence

By Elizabeth Frerichs

Summary: Ambivalence—noun 1: simultaneous and contradictory attitudes or feelings (as attraction and repulsion) toward an object, person, or action; 2: continual fluctuation (as between one thing and its opposite). What if Clark escaped from Luthor’s Kryptonite cage just a few seconds earlier, and it forced both Lois and Clark to face up to how broken the events of “Barbarians at the Planet” and “House of Luthor” left them?

Rating: PG-13

Story Size: 76,590 words

Disclaimer: Obviously, the Lois and Clark TV show characters, etc. do not belong to me.

Part Five

After putting out the fire and helping with the aftermath, Clark decided to detour up to the Arctic for a swim before heading back to Metropolis.

He landed on the glacier he’d split when Lois had agreed to marry Luthor. The peace and quiet and beauty made it an ideal place to think. It fed his soul to be away from all the suffering man caused.

He thought back to his mother’s conclusions—Lois hadn’t really had a choice. Agreeing to marry Luthor had been a natural result of who she was and the circumstances she’d been in. Luthor had used his considerable charm to blind her and to keep her too off-balance for her reporter’s instincts to even kick in.

He’d had a hand in it too—by professing his love as Clark and rejecting her as Superman, he’d left her without any support, any other fallback than Luthor, and he’d made it impossible for her to see him, the man under the suits.

He idly traced shapes in the snow as he thought about the past few days. It hurt that Lois had chosen her career over him, but like his mother had said—it was because deep down he still wanted more, not because she shouldn’t have put her career first. Actually, a lot of the small day-to-day hurts of the past year fit in that category—wanting more had made all those times when she’d given him less stick out like a sore thumb. As much as he tried to deny and suppress it, he still wanted Lois.

Just thinking about her brought her image instantly to mind. He smiled at her intentional lack of fashion sense tonight; Lois always did love to dress up. It was one of her endearing quirks. There were so many things he liked about her. And here too his mother was right: he did love her blend of strength and vulnerability. She wouldn’t be Lois Lane without it.

He loved Lois.

He loved that she threw herself into life, her passion for justice that he sometimes thought rivaled his own. Superman intervened while a crime was being committed; Lois prevented them from being committed in the first place. And he loved her softer side—the side she almost never showed anyone. He hated how wounded and unable to trust her life had left her, but winning her trust had been a precious gift.

He loved Lois, faults and all.

And, as he’d realized early on in his journaling, if he was really going pursue her, he’d have to show her who he was, who he really was. It was a step he’d never taken with anyone, and the thought terrified him. In many ways, he was even worse than Lois at trusting people. He’d never stayed anywhere long enough to practice it, and he’d spent his whole life hiding who he was. But if he was ever going to have a wife, a family—like he’d told his father he wanted—he’d have to let at least one woman see him. And Lois was the only woman he could see himself wanting enough to take that risk.

He swam through the ocean, trying to get the worst of the soot and smoke out.

Finally, he headed back to his apartment. He figured he had about three hours before sunrise when he planned to track down Camden.

Changing into shorts and a T-shirt, he sat on his bed. Tell Lois. He wasn’t worried that she’d misuse the information; it was how she’d handle it and what it would do to them that had him in a cold sweat. He’d spent hours thinking about it in the past, what probably added up to days worth of daydreaming, but now that he was staring cold, hard reality in the face, he wasn’t sure how to go about it or even if he could. Tell Lois. How did he even start? Just jump right in: “I’m Superman.” Give her background information? Tell her as Clark? Tell her as Superman? Would she even listen to him past that first sentence? Hear out his explanation? See him, the real him? Or would she jump straight into blazing fury and/or self-recriminations for not realizing it on her own?

Maybe he should write out what he wanted to say and see if there was a way to arrange it all that would keep Lois listening until he got to the end. He picked up the journal he’d spent so much time on and flipped to the back. It was practically full, full of all the heartbreak they’d been through together. It was their story.

His heart sped up as a thought came to him. What if he gave her their story? He could give it to her and ask her to read it, and then they could talk about it when she was done.

It might be better that way anyway—he’d give her the pieces, but let her put them together.

Three hours gave him plenty of time to type it up and edit it. He wasn’t sure if he’d have the guts to go through with giving it to her, but typing it up was a step in the right direction.

***

The next morning Clark flew out to Echo Canyon, where Valdez had said Camden might be. It was a state park—no houses or camping, just an old ranger station to check. He landed out of sight and changed into his Clark clothes, then walked up to the station.

The moment he was in sight of the station windows Derek Camden came out, a shotgun held in his shaking hands. “Are you my appointment in Samarra?” he demanded.

“Pardon?” Clark asked.

“Are you death come to visit me?”

Clark held the man’s gaze, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. “No, I’m a reporter; you’re Dr. Camden, right?”

“You—you—you work for him. You’re his assassin,” Camden said, pointing a trembling finger at him.

Clark held up both hands. “Dr. Camden, I’m not an assassin. I’m just here to ask you about your sound research—specifically the sounds used in Metropolis lately, the ones that put people to sleep and blow things up. Do you know anything about them?”

Camden peered at him, as though trying to take his measure through a haze, then lowered the gun. He nodded and tapped his chest with the gun. “Here, all from my heart, my soul.”

Clark’s eyes widened. “Doctor, be careful,” he said, taking a step towards him.

Camden cringed away, his arms coming up in front of his face. “Don’t touch me!”

Clark stepped back. “Calm down. I’m your friend. Stoke lied to you. He said that he was your friend just to get you out of the hospital, and then he stole your inventions, right?”

Camden began to pace. “No, no, he stole my dreams. He—he wants to keep my dreams. He wants to end my body and keep my dreams,” he said, his eyes full of tears. He turned and began to yell into the canyon, listening to the echoes: “Thief! Killer! Destroyer!”

Clark glanced at his watch. He was running out of time, but Stoke was still capable of stopping him in his tracks. “Dr. Camden, can you tell me anything about the frequency that hurts Superman? What makes it so”—he searched for the right word—”powerful?”

“Power, Lenny—Lenny has the power,” Camden rambled.

“What power?”

“The power, the power, it’s all about power. It doesn’t work without power. Where is he getting the power?” Camden’s eyes widened. “I never could find the power. But Lenny found the power. He stole the power. Now he is the power, and now he’s coming. He’s coming for me. He’s coming for you. He’s coming for everybody, and nothing can stop him,” Camden finished hysterically.

Clark started to reach out a comforting hand, but Camden flinched back again, so he let his hand fall to his side once more. “Don’t worry, Dr. Camden. I’ll let the police know about Stoke,” he said, hoping it would temporarily comfort the man and resolving to make sure Camden was returned to his doctor after the situation with Stoke was concluded.

***

Lois sat up sharply. The bug had been silent for hours, but all at once, mumbling had begun. Now, she could clearly hear Stoke: “Mayor Sharp, I do hope you’re not trying to trace this call, because I’ve routed it through three islands, four oceans, and five continents. You’ll be drawing social security before you ID me.”

She held in a squeal as she took notes. She’d been right! Stoke was the sound man!

“Now listen to me: I also hope you don’t think this is a negotiation,” Stoke continued. “This is not a negotiation. This is a demand. So what’s it to be, Mayor Sharp, yes or no?” He paused, apparently waiting for the mayor’s response, then continued, “I see. Well, then I suppose it’s time for a little more show and a little less tell.”

There was a faint bang, and then Stoke yelled, “All right, boys, into the cellar. We need some more power. Let’s go!”

Lois chewed on her lower lip. Stoke was sending his men into the cellar for more power. What did that mean? How could they get more power from the cellar?

“We’re in position,” a faint voice came from over the bug.

“Are the speakers set?” Stoke asked.

“Four minutes and city hall will be ready to fall,” the voice replied.

“Set the focus of the speakers for the triangulation coordinates I gave you. The angles must be positioned for maximum sympathetic vibration,” Stoke instructed.

Lois glanced at the clock. There wasn’t time to get a tactical police team in there. Maybe, if she snuck in, she could unplug Stoke’s whatever it was that generated the sound. If the back door hadn’t been one of those exit-only, handle-less doors, she could have picked the lock. That left the front door, and picking the lock in broad daylight would be asking for trouble, which meant a frontal assault. It would have been easier in some ways if she’d still been in her groupie outfit, but she had to try something.

She knocked loudly on the front door. Before long the three blonde security guards that she’d run into the night before opened the door and stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Hi. I just wanted to give you girls a tip,” Lois said, a patronizing smile on her face. “See, Lenny told me he likes his women, well—how should I say this?—smaller than the average milk cow. So, if I were you, I’d either lose some poundage or start grazing someplace else.”

The guards took a step towards her, their arms dropping to their sides, obviously preparing to deal with her.

“Should I be using smaller words?” Lois asked, backing up.

The three guards came out onto the portico, the club doors swinging closed behind them.

Lois dropped into a tae kwon do stance. “Look, girls, I don’t want to hurt you.”

The lead guard walked up, and Lois shoved a potted tree onto her, then ran behind a pillar.

“She went that way! C’mon!” the guard yelled as she worked to untangle herself from the tree.

The other two guards ran after Lois.

As they came into view, Lois picked up a large sidewalk sign and whacked each of them. They both fell to the ground, unmoving. She dropped the sign and walked back towards the front doors only to have the head guard jump in front of her with a “Hi-yah!” They both settled into martial arts stances, then began trading kicks and blocks. Finally, Lois dropped into a crouch and pulled the rug out from under the guard, who fell with a thud and a groan. The woman lay there, dazed. As she tried to sit up, Lois walked over and, using her index finger, pushed the woman’s head back into the ground. “By the way: your roots—they’re a little dark,” she said. The woman’s eyes fluttered closed.

Lois walked into the building without any further interference. No one was waiting. In fact, she didn’t see anyone. She cautiously made her way down the stairs to where she hoped the cellar was and began looking around for some kind of switch or cord.

Suddenly, she felt a rush of wind, and then the lights went out.

***

Clark was significantly later getting to Metropolis than he’d planned. On his way back, he’d gotten caught up in moving a stalled car off train tracks, succeeding mere moments before the train reached that intersection.

By the time he’d reached Stoke Club, it was mere minutes from the 9 a.m. deadline. Flying above the club, he x-rayed the building and saw men tapping into the city’s power lines. “Well, that explains where he’s getting the power,” Clark murmured. He could go in and unplug Stoke, which would take care of protecting City Hall.

The three female guards from the night before were unconscious on the sidewalk in front of the club. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew who was responsible for that. Where else would Lois be but where trouble was at? he thought with fond exasperation.

At super-speed he ran through the front doors, down the stairs, past Lois, and over to where Stoke was plugged into the city’s lines. He knocked Stoke’s thugs out, and then pulled the cords out of the wall, disconnecting the power from Stoke’s machine. The lights went out. He broke down the door of the room where Stoke had been, striding in. Hopefully Stoke wouldn’t have had time to get his weapon set to whatever frequency it was that was so painful.

He glanced around the empty room. Stoke was nowhere to be seen. Just then Lois came running in.

“Superman!” she called.

Stoke jumped out of an alcove, holding a gun, a large black glove on his hand. “Surprise!” he called, grabbing Lois and holding the gun to her side.

Clark super-sped over to rescue her, but was thrown backwards.

Holding onto Lois, Stoke began circling around Superman towards where his machine sat. “As you can see, Superman, this glove is not just an affectation. It’s a little something I dreamt up called the Wall of Sound: a sonic barrier so dense that nothing can get through—not even you.”

Clark made another attempt to get through the barrier, but without success.

“No plug to pull. Independent power supply,” Stoke continued.

Clark grimaced. He stared at Lois, trying to come up with some way to reach her. His gut roiled. Even after a year of rescuing Lois Lane, he’d never gotten used to it.

Stoke looked back and forth between Clark and Lois. “Oh, that’s wonderful. That lantern-jawed look of concern for human life. How super of you,” he said in a mock-impressed voice.

Clark ignored Stoke.

“Am I missing something? Is there something going on I’m not aware of?” Stoke asked. He inhaled sharply.

“She’s your girl, isn’t she, eh? It is unfortunate, however, because she only has five seconds to live,” he said, viciously tightening his hold on Lois.

Lois let out an involuntary yelp. Even in the middle of her terror, for the first time ever she was annoyed with Superman. Yes, she’d been obvious in her infatuation with him in the old days—but come on! How were they supposed to convince the bad guys that she wasn’t special to him when he kept looking at her that way?

Clark’s brain kicked into super-speed. The only way to save Lois seemed to be to leave her, to build up enough speed to break the sound barrier, but he never could leave Lois Lane—and, for the first time in months, he didn’t want to. A sudden thought hit him: light was considerably faster than sound. Perhaps his heat vision could go through the sound barrier.

“Four. Three,” Stoke continued.

Clark started to back away, as though giving in to Stoke, but instead focusing his heat vision on Stoke’s gun.

Stoke hissed and dropped the gun. Lois used the distraction to elbow him in the gut. While he was doubled over, Clark burned out Stoke’s glove as well, then super-sped to remove both gun and glove from Stoke’s vicinity. He crushed the gun and threw the glove to the ground hard enough that the electronic bits tinkled in protest.

“How did you do that?” Stoke asked incredulously.

“Simple. Light travels at 186,000 miles per second. Sound only moves at 688 feet per second.” Clark took a step towards Stoke. “Now, let’s go for a little ride.”

“No, no. You see, you don’t understand. I have this problem,” Stoke said, backing away. “It’s kind of a rain man thing. I hate flying,” he finished, his voice cracking.

Clark walked up to him and grabbed him around the waist. “You’d hate it more if I dropped you, so you’d better hold still,” he said, picking Stoke up and flying him out of the building.

***

After Clark had dropped Stoke off at the police station and filled Henderson in, he returned to Stoke Club in his Clark clothes. Lois was still there, practically glowing as she rooted through Stoke’s computer. He found himself simply watching her before she saw him, the way he had in the old days. Yes, he loved Lois Lane the way she was. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d spent all that time and energy trying to fight it.

“Lois! Are you all right?” he called, walking over to her.

A smile lit her face as she looked up at him. “Clark! You finally made it!”

“Made it?”

“Yeah, I left a message on your machine last night.”

“You did?” Clark frowned. He hadn’t even realized that he’d forgotten to check his machine when he’d gotten home from Chicago. “Oh, well, I didn’t get it. Sorry.”

Her brow furrowed. “What are you doing here then?”

“Camden. I caught up with him out at Echo Canyon this morning. Stoke stole the sound technology from him. Apparently you know that already though,” he said, gesturing at the sound generator.

Lois looked down at the machine. “Well, not exactly. I knew that Stoke was making the sounds. I guess you were right after all.”

“We were both right,” Clark said.

Lois smiled again. “Yeah, so why don’t we both go back to the Planet and write up the story?” she suggested.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Clark.” She pushed her hair behind one ear. “I—well, I was panicking over the Kerths, and I overreacted. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you though.”

“No, you were right. I shouldn’t have run off. I promise I wasn’t trying to steal your story though.”

She gave a little chuckle. “I know. I just forgot who you are for a bit.”

Clark frowned. “Who I am?”

“Yeah. You’re the guy who gives me leads even when we weren’t working together. You’d never steal a story,” Lois said.

Clark’s throat closed up as he realized that Lois really did trust him, even if she forgot it from time to time. “Thanks, Lois. That means a lot.” He cleared his throat. “I, um, owe you an apology too.”

Lois raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You were right before, when you said that I hadn’t forgiven you, that I was refusing to forgive you.” He grimaced. “I was hurt, and I’ve been keeping you at arm’s length, even after I agreed to work on our friendship. I’m sorry.”

“Clark, I hurt you. You should have been hurt.”

“I know, but I was talking to my parents last night, and for the first time, I really knew that it wasn’t on purpose.”

Lois took a deep breath. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was just being stubborn and blind. I never wanted you to leave though—not then and not now. Clark, Perry said that you’re talking about leaving the Planet; is that true?”

Clark shook his head. “Not anymore.” He hesitated, trying to decide how best to explain the conclusions he’d come to. Although, as he thought about it, he realized that his reasons were now moot: Lois had apologized. Lois wasn’t putting him back to square one. His heart felt lighter than it had in months. “I was—feeling frustrated and confused, but my parents reminded me that I’ve been happier here than I’ve ever been. I have no plans to leave.”

“Good,” Lois said, feeling the knot in her chest loosen.

Just then they heard the sound of police sirens. “Guess the police made it,” Clark said.

“Yeah. You about ready to go write that article?”

“Sounds good to me.”

***

Clark left the Kerth Awards with Lois and Perry, a Kerth of his own in hand. After finishing their article on the sound man, Lois had told him that she wanted to go to the Kerths with him.

He’d spent the past week re-examining the conclusions he’d come to on that iceberg—going over and over them, considering and reconsidering the idea of giving Lois their story. After their conversation in Stoke’s basement, Lois had returned to her pre-Kerth-nomination friendliness, and it had solidified for him that she was really changing. And he’d changed. He’d finally accepted that she hadn’t meant to hurt him. He’d made up his mind that he wanted Lois, and this time he wasn’t going to wait until they were close friends again and then spring it on her once more. He’d tell her from the get-go, and then they could move on from there. They had enough of a friendship for that, and she was worth the risk.

Timing-wise, giving her the manuscript after the Kerths seemed like the best time to do it: they’d been too busy to spend time together outside of work until tonight. Plus, Lois had tomorrow and the next day off, and he thought it would be smarter to make sure she had time to process than for him to tell her and have to work together less than twenty-four hours later. Of course when he’d picked her up tonight and seen her looking stunning in her black dress with her hair up, he’d found himself reconsidering—she was so beautiful inside and out, and he ached at the thought that tonight might be their last evening together if she couldn’t accept his dual identity.

“Oh boy, what an evening,” Perry said as they walked out the doors of the Metropolis Press Club and into the night. “I tell you—now I know exactly how the colonel felt when Elvis brought home that first gold record.” He pointed to Clark’s Kerth. “Clark, I’m so proud of you I can’t see straight.”

Lois looked up at Clark with a smile. “Not as proud as I am. That was a great speech.”

Perry gave her a look. “Well, now, that’s quite a little attitude change,” he commented.

Lois returned his look. “I’m just glad to have such a good partner,” she said lightly, looking over at Clark. She’d gone to Perry the day after they’d written the sound man article and told him that she agreed that Clark was good for her and that she was willing to do whatever it took to keep him as her partner.

Just then a car horn sounded. Perry looked over and realized that it was his wife, Alice. He smiled and gave a little wave. “Oh, I’m comin’ honey,” he said. “Y’know every time Alice sees me in one of these monkey suits she can’t wait to get me home and tear it off,” he muttered to Lois and Clark. “I’ll, uh, see you two later,” he said and walked towards the waiting car.

Lois and Clark laughed.

“See you, Chief!” Clark called.

Lois threaded her arm through Clark’s, and they began walking down the street. “So, how did I rate as a date?” she bantered.

“Oh, A+,” Clark replied.

“I hung on your arm decoratively,” she said, tightening her grip.

Clark nodded mock seriously. “You did.”

“—fawned appropriately,” Lois continued.

“Absolutely.”

“—and just faded into the background during your big moment,” she finished.

“You were beautiful, yet invisible,” Clark concurred with a smile.

“Mmm, make me go through another night like that, and I’ll rip out your spleen!” she said with teasing growl, then chuckled.

Clark chuckled with her. “Okay. Fair enough,” he said, sobering all at once as he savored the feel of her on his arm and tried not to think that he might never have the chance to ask Lois to go through any sort of date again. The folded manuscript inside his interior jacket pocket crinkled as he shifted restlessly. That wasn’t something he was ready to talk about just yet. He held up his Kerth, looking at it consideringly. “You know, it’s not quite as big as I thought,” he commented.

“And not quite as shiny close up. You know, you win a few of these, you find out they don’t mean as much. Quick rush, a few pats on the back, and then you’re back on the beat, only as good as your next story,” Lois said, as the truth hit her once more. She couldn’t believe that she’d given the Kerth Committee so much say in her life. She glanced back at the club. “Tonight wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Lois remarked.

Clark looked down at her. “Oh?”

“Yeah, part of the reason I was so upset was because I didn’t want to deal with all the gossip. I figured there’d be even more of it than usual tonight, but, surprisingly, I didn’t hear much.”

Clark frowned. “Gossip?”

Lois focused on the sidewalk. “Yeah. I don’t know if you kept up with the gossip after Lex and I—well, you could hardly avoid it since it was splashed all over the papers.” She waved a hand in the general direction of the club. “Everyone was talking about how almost marrying Lex had proven that I wasn’t a good investigative reporter, or that I was in on his deals, or some other variation. I expected to hear everything all over again when you won the nomination instead of me.” She gave a forced smile. “I thought the committee must have agreed with the gossip, and that’s why they didn’t nominate me.”

Clark brought them both to a halt and held her gaze. “Lois, you’re the same reporter you’ve always been: hardworking, dedicated, passionate, and good at what you do. You’re the best reporter in the city—you always have been, and you always will be.”

“Oh, Clark, thank you.” She exhaled shakily. “You’re such a good friend. I’m really sorry I got all wound up about the award.”

He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay,” he said, resuming their walk. After a few moments of silence, he returned to their previous topic. “So, where do you think I should keep it?”

Lois shrugged. “I’m the wrong person to ask. I keep mine behind some books. I love looking at them, but after everything I’ve learned the past few weeks, I’m not sure they mean as much as they used to.”

“Really? What’ve you learned?”

Lois smiled ruefully. “I used to think that I needed my Kerths to prove that I’m the best—probably comes from my dad and his constant criticism. I don’t think I ever told you this, but he didn’t even want me to go into journalism. Anyway, last night I realized that the Kerth committee doesn’t determine if I’m a success or not—I know what I want out of my stories: to change things for the better. If I do that, then I’m a success no matter what anyone else says or thinks. And anyway, I want to be a success at life, not just investigative journalism.”

“That sounds very wise,” Clark said quietly. It was moments like these that left him in awe of Lois. She was such a strong woman, and she’d only grown stronger—strong enough to go after what she wanted, strong enough to admit when she was wrong ….

They walked the rest of the way to Lois’s apartment in companionable silence, neither wanting to break the spell between them.

“Come up?” Lois asked.

“Sure.”

“Are you okay? You were pretty quiet tonight,” Lois said, unlocking her door.

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?” she asked, opening the door and flipping on the lights.

Clark followed her in. “This,” he said, raising his Kerth. He looked down at her and took a deep breath. “Us.”

Lois caught her breath. After everything that had happened between them, she hadn’t thought Clark would still be interested in an “us.” She’d been so thankful to regain his friendship that she hadn’t dared hope for more, despite the fact that she now knew she was in love with him, had been in love with him for ages.

“I know we talked about our friendship,” Clark continued, “but I still want more than that.”

“Clark—”

Clark held up a hand. “I realized though that I went about it all the wrong way, and I’m sorry. I’ve”—he swallowed hard—”I’ve never really done this before. I don’t know how to do relationships—not the kind I want to have with you. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you, especially not then when you needed my friendship. I panicked and hurt you.”

“Clark, I didn’t handle things well either and—”

“Lois,” he interrupted her, “I want to talk with you about this, but I—well, in the course of trying to get over the Luthor situation, I realized that I wasn’t being fair to you. There are things about me that you don’t know, that you should know before you decide if you want to try a relationship with me. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking, and I realized that, despite all our issues, I still want to try us.” The word “love” hovered on his tongue, but he ruthlessly suppressed it. He wasn’t going to make the mistake of rushing her again.

Lois’s brow furrowed, as a wave of deja vu hit her. There are things about me that you don’t know. There was something about that phrase …. She mentally forced herself back to the present. “What don’t I know?”

“I’m honestly not sure how to go about telling you. I’ve never told anyone a lot of it.” He started pacing. “You know all those nights when I was busy right after Mr. Stern bought the Planet?”

“Yeah,” she said, still frowning. She had no idea where Clark was going with this.

“I was so frustrated and hurt and confused. I didn’t know which way was up anymore. I couldn’t even talk to my parents about it. My mother suggested that I write it all out—she knew writing had helped me work through things in the past. Anyway, I typed it up.” He pulled the manuscript out of his coat pocket. “I’d like you to read it, and then, if you still want to talk, I’d like to talk about it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to just tell me?” she asked. “Not that I’m trying to say I don’t want to read what you’ve written. I mean, I always enjoy your writing, so of course I want to read this, but maybe it would be better if you just told me?”

Clark shook his head slightly. “I—like I said, I’m not really sure how to tell you. I really think this is—well, here.” With shaking fingers Clark held out the manuscript. More than anything at that moment he wanted to take it and run, to return to the status quo of their friendship. They’d only just gotten it back on track, and, for a brief moment, he wondered if he was rushing things. But if the past few months had shown him anything, it was that moving backwards was an illusion. They had to move forward if they were ever going to truly get past Luthor and all he’d done to them. And, as he’d decided that night on the iceberg, he loved Lois and telling her was necessary in order for them to move forward. He glanced down at the manuscript, feeling the moments stretch, as though he had jumped into super-speed while he waited for Lois to take it. He felt naked, more exposed than he’d ever been in his life, and she hadn’t even read the thing yet.

Lois took the manuscript. She’d never seen Clark so rattled. Whatever was in here must be pretty important to him.

Clark backed towards the door. “Okay. Well, um, thanks again for being my date. It really meant a lot that you came tonight.”

Lois smiled up at him. “It meant a lot that you still let me come with you. I really am proud of you.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you later,” he said, opening the door. He paused in the doorway, staring at her, soaking in the reality of them, storing it up in case this was his last chance. And then he left.

***

Lois changed out of her dress and into her pajamas, all the while glancing at the manuscript Clark had given her. She’d never really thought of Clark as someone with real secrets. Sure he was a little strange at times, but that was just Clark. No mystery about it.

So what kind of secrets did he have? Some kind of criminal past?

But that didn’t fit Clark at all. His idea of a criminal past was probably getting a ticket for jaywalking. It had taken quite a bit of work on her part to drag him around to the idea of breaking and entering as a valid investigative technique. Well, there was one surefire way to find out.

She settled down on her bed and turned to the first page.

“Be careful with Lyle. You don’t know him like I do,” Jerome Knight told his partner, Lola Dane, as she prepared to join Lyle Richards in the ambulance.

Lola gave a slight nod, obviously not agreeing with Jerome’s assessment, but not wanting to start another fight in front of Lyle. After all, she was the one dating the man. There was no way Jerome knew Lyle better than she did.

Jerome, however, remained steadfast in his concern. In the course of researching his next book, he’d come across several disturbing facts about Richards—facts that all added up to Richards being a crime lord. He’d tried to talk to Lola about them, but she’d refused to listen. He could never tell if it was stubbornness on her part, or if she was really in love with the man.

The ache in his chest grew as he watched Lola ride off with Richards. He’d fallen for Lola from the moment he’d met her. Unfortunately, Lola didn’t trust easily, and she’d shot him down less than a week after they’d met. It had taken him months just to gain her friendship. And then Richards had swooped in and swept her off her feet. Jerome thought he’d be able to reconcile himself to the situation if it had been what was best for Lola. But it wasn’t. She was balanced on a knife-edge, and she didn’t even realize it.

And even if Richards hadn’t been around, there was Charlie King, a best-selling author that Lola had run into from time to time in the course of her investigations. His debut novel—a fictionalization of a child slavery ring he’d broken up in Nepal—had been a best seller, and Charlie had worked hard to continue the trend. He was rarely seen outside of book signings. No one but his publisher knew much about Charlie King, other than that he was rich and a good writer.

Jerome sighed as he thought once more about Lola and her crush on Charlie; Charlie could never have a relationship with her. The media would be all over it, and they’d never have any privacy—not to mention what Charlie’s enemies would do to her. Privacy and safety were the main reasons Jerome had created Charlie King in the first place—not that he’d known his book would be such a best seller.

***

Lois stared at the manuscript, her head spinning. Only one more page left. She turned to it and began reading.

“Charlie, is there any hope for us? You and me? I’m so completely in love with you. I can’t do anything else without knowing.”

Jerome stared at his partner, the words she’d said barely registering. He’d thought his heart couldn’t ache any more than it had this afternoon when she’d turned him down, but he’d been wrong. After a moment he realized that she was still waiting for an answer. He sighed, shaking his head. “Lola, I do care for you. But there are things about me that you don’t know, that you may never know.”

His partner took a step towards him, dewy-eyed and still full of hope. “It doesn’t matter. I know you. I don’t mean you, the celebrity, or you, the author. If you were just an ordinary man living an ordinary life, I would love you just the same. Can’t you believe that?”

She would love him even if he were someone ordinary, someone like her partner—the same man she’d rejected only this afternoon. He forced himself to speak past the spike of pain and bitterness her words had caused, forced himself to be gentle to the woman he loved, the woman who’d ripped his heart out. “I wish I could, Lola. But under the circumstances, I don’t see how I can,” he said, turning and leaving before either of them said anything else hurtful.

Jerome walked out of his partner’s apartment, barely able to keep from running into the hallway walls. His lungs burned with the effort of dragging air past the lump in his throat. He’d lost her. She had turned him down earlier that day, and now he’d turned her down. It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he couldn’t have continued the charade indefinitely—not with Lola. And she would have been livid once she’d realized that the man she’d already said “no” to had simply gone around her wishes by getting her love in another guise. It would have been tantamount to stealing. He wanted to be loved for himself anyway, not the successful writer character that he played a few hours a day.

Some might say that Charlie King should never have fulfilled Lola’s request—just not shown up that night—and he’d thought seriously about blowing her off. But the reality was that he’d never been able to ignore Lola’s wishes. He’d hoped that being rude to her when he’d first gotten there would have kept her from saying what he’d thought she was going to say—or at least proven to him that she wasn’t infatuated with the Armani suits and money, or whatever it was that she liked about Charlie King; if anyone else had been that rude, they’d have been leaving her apartment wearing a handprint. It hadn’t worked though, and now he had a stomach churning with guilt to add to his list of physical complaints.

Lois felt the typed pages slip from her fingers. She’d had a niggling feeling after reading the beginning, but she’d read on, hoping against hope to prove herself wrong. Unfortunately, she’d never told Clark what Superman had said that night, and the story matched up too well for doubt. Thinking back she realized that she’d never seen Clark and Superman together, and it was for a good reason: Clark was Superman.

No wonder Superman—no, Clark—had been so angry that night.

She felt a fleeting moment of gratitude that Clark hadn’t let her talk him into just telling her. She wasn’t sure how she would have reacted, but it wouldn’t have been pretty. Most likely, she wouldn’t have gotten past the initial statement of his identity. Now she had a glimpse into the backstory, and she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

She stood up and began to pace. Clark was Superman. It felt like saying the sky was green or some other ridiculous, obviously false statement.

Clark had lied to her. The one person she never, ever, ever would have thought capable of real lying, and he’d lied to her, practically every moment of every day. Lied about who he was. Lied about all those little things he suddenly remembered he had to go do. She’d been hurt when he’d lied about Superman’s globe, but this went far beyond that.

Wait a minute. That had been Clark’s globe. Jack had stolen Clark’s globe. No wonder he hadn’t been honest with her—it would have meant opening a Pandora’s box.

And she had been awful to him, absolutely awful. She’d thought she’d treated him poorly when she’d been thinking of their friendship, but now, knowing that he was Superman … scenes swam through her consciousness—the time she’d said Clark was the “before” and Superman was the “way, way after.” The time when she’d belittled his amnesia—which now that she thought about it, no wonder Superman had been missing for those days!

Seeing his perspective on the whole Lex fiasco and their relationship (relationships?) in general—she didn’t know how he’d done it, how he’d stuck around and pursued her. Or why. He’d said that he loved her that day in the park, and it was obvious from his story that he thought of himself as Clark, rather than Superman, but she had hurt him—far more than she’d realized. Clark’s anguish had poured off the page, and now that she had an insider’s perspective, she could see that he’d spent the past few months bleeding in her presence, while she’d been oblivious—trapped in her own pain and crisis of confidence.

Clark was Superman.

She wanted to hang onto her anger—Clark had lied to her—but somehow it kept dissipating in the knowledge that she had hurt him just as much, if not more, than he had hurt her.

Clark was Superman.

She just couldn’t wrap her brain around it. She had to see him, to move this whole thing out of the realm of fantasy and into reality.

***

Despite the late hour, the lights were on when she got to Clark’s apartment, but he didn’t answer the door. She couldn’t wait another day to talk to him, so she let herself in. Clark was gone. He must have just stepped out—maybe an emergency? She headed towards the couch, then detoured to look at the souvenirs Clark had on display. She found herself looking at the apartment with new eyes. She’d known that he’d traveled the world, but she’d never cared. From the moment she’d met him, she had categorized him as a hick, and much of that had never changed. Yes, she’d realized that hick did not equal stupid after meeting his parents, but it had still equaled an uninteresting background. And now, knowing that he was Superman, she was voraciously curious.

Superman hadn’t shown up until a year ago, but she clearly remembered seeing pictures of Clark as a young boy. In a way, it was a comforting thought; Clark had lied to her about Superman, but perhaps not everything was a lie. There were things she knew about him. She had seen his first grade picture. She had met his parents. Wait, Clark’s parents—were they from Krypton too? Why had they come to earth? And Clark clearly saw himself as Clark, not as Superman, but if he’d been raised as a Kryptonian …. She had so many questions.

She turned in a slow circle, studying the apartment, trying to reconcile the down-home country boy with the aloof, larger-than-life superhero.

It didn’t help. This was Clark’s apartment; there was nothing of Superman’s visible—not that she’d recognize anything other than the Suit and the globe. She thought about rifling through his apartment to see if she could turn anything up, but discarded the idea. For the first time she wanted to wait for someone to tell her their secrets. For the first time she could wait because Clark would tell her when he was ready.

Just then she heard the whoosh that signaled Superman’s arrival coming from Clark’s bedroom. His balcony. Of course. How convenient.

“Clark?” she called, wanting to let him know she was here—though she doubted that she could surprise him with those super senses of his.

In the bedroom Clark stilled for a moment before rapidly changing out of the Suit. After a brief hesitation, he left his glasses off. He’d been so preoccupied that he hadn’t even realized Lois was here. He hadn’t expected to hear from her for a couple of days at least, and he’d been mentally bracing himself for an outcome that involved leaving Metropolis. Taking a deep breath, he walked out of his bedroom.

Lois almost started to see him—without his glasses, wearing a T-shirt and jeans with his Clark hairstyle, he was a man she’d never seen. She studied him, realizing that this was the real him. She couldn’t believe that a pair of glasses had fooled her for more than a year. And yet it was more than just the glasses—there was something different in the way he carried himself. The Suit seemed designed to stand out and Superman commanded attention and respect, whereas Clark fit in so well he became almost invisible.

They stood in silence for long moments, each studying the other.

“You lied to me,” Lois said, then mentally cursed herself for letting those words be the first to leave her mouth. That hadn’t been how she’d wanted to start things off at all.

Clark hesitated. “Yes.” He took a step towards her. “I lie to everyone; no one can know about Superman. Can you imagine what my enemies would do to you, or Perry and Jimmy, or my parents, if they found out?”

“Your parents? They aren’t from Krypton?” she asked, distracted by his concern for them.

“No. They’re really Kansas farmers.”

“Why—Why didn’t you become Superman earlier? When did you get here? Why did you come? Who are you really?”

Clark gestured to the couch. “Maybe we should sit—unless you really want to have this whole conversation standing in the middle of my living room,” he said, trying to inject a note of levity.

Lois sat down, and he joined her on the couch, turning to face her. “I came to earth when I was a baby. My parents think I was about four months old. They were headed home from town, and they saw what looked like a meteor streaking across the night sky and landing in a nearby field. When they investigated it, they found me. They hadn’t been able to have children and thought it was some crazy government agency that had put a baby in space, so they buried my ship and implied that I was a relative’s unwanted child. They were thrilled to adopt me and have loved me as their own ever since. It wasn’t until I was twelve that my powers started manifesting.”

“Wait! You didn’t know you were from Krypton?”

Clark shook his head. “No, not until last year when I found my ship and the globe in Bureau 39’s warehouse.”

“What ship?” Lois frowned, remembering the photo of the man with Superman’s “S,” and then quickly added, “That projection from the globe?”

“A hologram of my birth father. The globe contained messages from my birth parents explaining who I was. That’s part of why I was so frantic when it was stolen—it’s my only real link to them”—he grimaced—”plus there’s enough information for someone to piece together more than I want known, like that I was sent to Kansas as a baby.”

“Why did they send you?”

Clark studied the couch cushions. “Something happened, and Krypton exploded. My parents modified a space probe so that they could save me—that’s the ship that Bureau 39 had. I’d show it to you, but it was too big to take when we were there, and it went missing when they cleared out the warehouse.”

Clark looked so sad in that moment that, despite the confused mass of emotions roiling through her, Lois couldn’t help but comfort him. She put a hand on his. “I’m so sorry. They must have really loved you though to send you away.”

He turned his hand up and clasped hers, meeting her gaze. “Thanks, Lois. I don’t know exactly how I feel about it. I’m glad that I know who I am—there was always something missing when I didn’t know who my parents were or why they’d given me away—but my birth parents are just people in a hologram. The Kents are my real parents.”

“Maybe we can find your ship someday,” she said, already mentally flipping through her contacts to decide who would be most likely to know about it.

“I’d like that. I’m sure if anyone can get a lead, you can.”

She gave a distracted nod. Clark had arrived as a baby, but Superman hadn’t show up until a year ago. She refocused her attention on him. “You said that your powers started manifesting when you were twelve, but Superman didn’t become active until a year ago. What changed? What made you decide to become Superman?”

Clark smiled. “You.”

Lois’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Lois, even though I’ve never told anyone about my powers, I’ve always wanted to help people with them—and I have helped as best as I could. Once I graduated college, I’d move somewhere, freelance a bit, and help people until I did something to make someone suspicious. Then I’d move on. When I came to Metropolis and met you, I knew I wanted to stay here. Plus, getting a job at the Planet was a dream come true. I started trying to figure out how I could help without being caught, and that day that I saved that man in the sewer explosion—you remember that, don’t you?”

Lois nodded, mentally flagellating herself for having missed so many clues. Little things had begun making sense in the wake of Clark’s manuscript, and she had the feeling she’d be continuing to put things together for quite some time. It was still galling though to realize that she’d missed things even from the very beginning. “So that was you.”

“I tried to pass it off as the man being delirious, but, yeah, it was me. Remember what you said to me?”

Lois tried to remember, but she’d been focused on Platt and the Messenger. Sadly, Clark and most of the things he’d done had been incidental at the time, so she’d forgotten them. “I have no idea.”

“You told me to ‘bring a change of clothes to work.’”

Lois let out a small chuckle. “How did you get ‘become Superman’ out of that?”

Clark chuckled too. “Because a costume just made so much sense. That had always been my problem—trying to hide in plain sight. A costume is just another way to do that. And because I take my glasses off, people never think Superman is hiding. Nothing about the Suit is secretive.”

“Far from it,” she agreed with a laugh.

“Yeah,” he said, trying not to blush. “You should have seen some of the other ones. Trust me, that was the best.”

“There were others?”

“Yeah, my mom made several different types. The Superman Suit is the one we liked best.”

“‘My mother made it for me,’” she said wonderingly. “You told Platt’s daughter that your mother made it.”

“She did.”

“I thought that meant your Kryptonian mother made it, that maybe you’d been sent here to help or something.”

“That’s what you were meant to think,” he said.

Lois sobered, remembering how many things she’d misunderstood, how huge the lie was, and how awful she’d been to Clark. She pulled her hand from Clark’s and focused on the designs in his living room rug.

Clark let her go, but using his index finger, raised her chin so that she was looking at him. “Lois, I know I lied to you. But I’ve never told anyone. Neither have my parents. Lying to you wasn’t personal. When I was younger, when I first discovered that I was different, my dad used to tell me that if anyone found out about my powers, they’d lock me up in a lab and dissect me like a frog. I’ve had that hanging over my head most of my life, and, after our experiences with Bureau 39, I’m pretty sure my dad was right. It makes it a little hard to have relationships.”

Lois felt her heart break at the picture Clark had painted—a boy, alone and living in terror that someone would find out and take him away from the parents who loved him. Not being able to tell anyone who he really was, to never be himself around anyone—it must have made him so isolated. She understood why Jonathan had been so paranoid, so desperate to protect the son he clearly loved, but she wished they’d been able to keep the secret without passing on all that fear to Clark. She blushed as she realized that she’d been one of the most avid searchers for Superman’s secrets in the beginning. Once more the memory of how she’d treated Clark rose to the surface—how could she have said that Superman’s eyes were radiant brown, not dull, insipid, mud-brown like Clark’s? Weeks ago she’d realized that she was a bad friend to Clark, but knowing the truth of who he was, this was beyond being rude—she’d been dismissive and downright cruel. She couldn’t believe he could still want her. She studied her hands where they rested in her lap. “I was so horrible to you. I don’t know why you would decide that I’m worth the risk.”

“I was horrible to you too. I didn’t tell you about Luthor—”

“You tried to.”

“Yes, I tried to, as Clark. I didn’t tell you as Superman. I was confused, and I wasn’t sure that you’d listen to me since every time I tried to talk about Luthor we ended up fighting, but the reality is that I should have told you as Superman. I was hurt, hurt that you thought Superman was so much better than Clark. This is new to me. I haven’t gotten this whole dual identity thing figured out yet.” He shook his head. “Regardless, I didn’t handle Luthor well. I didn’t handle our relationship well. I didn’t pursue you as Clark, and then rushed you. I gave off signals as Superman. I knew I couldn’t have a relationship with you as Superman; it was just hard to suppress my feelings for you when I felt like you actually saw me whenever I had the cape on. I raised your expectations, and then rejected you—”

“I rejected you first though,” she said in a small voice.

“Lois, you didn’t know—”

“Yes, but I should never have asked you to contact, um, you, after I’d rejected you. That was cruel and insensitive. I’m sorry.”

Clark took a deep breath. “I can’t pretend that didn’t hurt, but as I said, I didn’t handle it well either. We both made mistakes. It’s not a matter of who made the most mistakes—the question is where we go from here.”

Lois blushed at the intensity in his voice. Where they would go. For the first time since she’d learned the truth of who Clark was, it occurred to her that it made sense that she’d been in love with both Clark and Superman. The past few months she’d realized that she would choose Clark, but now she didn’t have to choose. Although, knowing how messed up she was, the idea of being in a relationship with Superman was daunting. She still couldn’t believe that a pair of glasses had fooled her for so long. “Why do you wear glasses?” she asked suddenly.

“I got them in junior high,” he said. He suppressed a sigh, remembering all the anguish of the revelation of his abnormality. “I can’t tell you what it was like having my powers appear. My parents had told me I was adopted, but not how they’d found me. I was at school when I saw through a blackboard. I was bored and not really paying attention, and suddenly I could see into the classroom next to us. That was actually when I first started writing—as a way to try to deal with going from being a normal kid to some kind of freak in the space of a day. Anyway, we discovered that I couldn’t see through lead, so my parents got me a pair of glasses with leaded glass lenses while I was learning to control my powers. The ones I wear now are plain glass, but they remind me to be careful using my powers.”

She looked up at him, tracing the lines of both Clark and Superman in his face. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

“You weren’t supposed to see it. I work very hard to camouflage and minimize any similarities between Clark and Superman. So far no one’s figured it out. It doesn’t make you any less of a reporter that you didn’t see it. You’re used to Clark being the one to run away from trouble to go call the police, and you’re used to Superman coming to the rescue. Why would you think that they’d be the same person?”

“You say ‘Clark’ and ‘Superman’ like neither of them is you, but when I was reading your story I got the impression that you see yourself as Clark. Which is it? How do I know what’s true?”

Clark slid his hand between them, holding it out so that she could take it once more. Lois hesitantly put her hand in his.

“Lois, I’ve never lied to you about anything except being both Clark and Superman. Both of them are me. And everything both of them have told you is true. You know me—better than anyone. Honestly, it’s only been after Luthor that I’ve started to come to terms with who I am—the man who’s both Clark and Superman, or neither if you want to look at it that way. I used to think of Superman as a two-dimensional character and of myself as the real person, but during my journaling I realized that Superman isn’t two-dimensional. Superman is the side of me that can use my powers openly, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t use them the rest of the time.”

“You don’t?” She shook her head. “You do?”

He chuckled. “If you could clean your apartment in ten seconds flat, wouldn’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Of course I use my powers when I’m not wearing the Suit. I can’t even shave without using my heat vision.”

“I suppose x-ray vision would come in handy in our line of work,” she said, trying to imagine how she’d use those powers in everyday life if she had them. Then she gave him a playful slap on the arm. “No wonder you’re so good at finding things! You use your powers all the time, don’t you?”

“Gives us a little extra edge,” he said with a smirk.

She stared at him wonderingly. “You don’t even need me to be your partner, do you? You could probably investigate circles around me. Why—”

“Why are we partners?”

She nodded.

“Lois, I love being your partner. I have no desire to strike out on my own—”

“That’s where you went!” she exclaimed as she remembered the argument that had prompted the temporary split in their partnership.

Clark frowned. “When?”

“When you said we should split up and I could chase down Stoke while you hunted for Camden. You were chasing down the sound man, weren’t you? You must have heard something. Why didn’t you take me with you? Wait—are you okay? That article said that Superman had to run away from the sound man.” She gasped. “Dr. Carlin! You were shot! Clark!”

Something in Clark’s chest loosened at the sound of her panic and concern. She cared about him, not just Superman, but him. He gently squeezed her hand. “And you saved me. You were so brave.”

“I don’t know about that. Terrified is more like it.”

“But you still dug that bullet out. You still saved me even though you were scared. You did great, Lois.”

She blushed.

“And yes, chasing down the sound man is where I went. I heard something and went to go catch him. I didn’t take you with me because I couldn’t explain how I’d heard it or go change into Superman without you knowing about me. As far as things with the sound man went, I’m all right now. If the cops hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have been, but they did. I spent that afternoon in bed because I could barely move. I wasn’t trying to cut you out of the story.”

She gave a half smile. “I know. As I said, I realized that you aren’t the kind of person who steals stories. I really am sorry about freaking out over the Kerth. Perry said that I’m a better writer with you than without you, and he’s right. I know I give you a hard time about the touchy-feely stuff, but I don’t really mean it. I just—” Lois paused, searching for the right words.

“Have an image to maintain?” Clark suggested, unsure he’d heard her correctly. She’d apologized for not trusting his instincts and had deferred to him while investigating Dr. Kelly, but she’d never said anything positive about his writing style before. He’d always thought she considered him a lightweight.

“That’s part of it. I am a woman trying to make it in a man’s world,” she said. “But it’s also not a style I’m very good at, and I’ve found that Perry doesn’t give me as many of those assignments now that I have a reputation for hating them. Anyway, I know I don’t tell you often enough, but you’ve always been able to move me with your words. It wasn’t the style of article that bothered me about the Kerths—once I’d thought about it, I realized it was a perfect article for you to have been nominated for because you care about the disenfranchised, and your writing is so perfect for highlighting their plight and getting people to really care about it. Like I said, I just freaked out because I thought the Kerth committee agreed with the gossip, and I used the fact that my article had a larger global impact to argue against it. I really do like that our styles complement each other.”

Clark’s mouth swung open. “Wow, um, thanks, Lois. Me too.”

They sat in silence for a moment, both deep in thought. Clark decided to ask the question that had plagued him for months. “I’m sure you noticed where I ended my story,” he began.

Lois nodded.

“Well, part of the reason that I didn’t get any further was because I gave you the edited version that was a combination of two versions—one strictly from my perspective and one from yours. I was trying to figure out how I felt and where you were coming from. But I got stuck writing your perspective after that night. Well, even that night. I know you meant it when you said that you would love me even if I were an ordinary man living an ordinary life—”

“Clark,” she swallowed hard as her stomach roiled. “I’m so sorry. I knew something was wrong with Superman, and after reading your perspective on the past few months, I couldn’t believe how I’d treated you.”

“Lois, I’m not trying to assign blame. I’m just trying to understand. Can you tell me what it was about Superman that made that side of me so attractive to you?”

“I know,” she said, thinking that she didn’t deserve someone like Clark who had forgiven her for something far larger than she’d had any idea of and was actually trying to understand where she’d been coming from. She cleared her throat. “Well, it wasn’t you. I realized that I had a, um, block as far as letting myself have feelings for you. Not because of who you are, but because of who I am. You know I don’t trust people. I’m actually trying to change that—to let people see me and to care about others, not because of who other people are, but because of the kind of person I want to be. Anyway, I realized that I could let myself love Superman because I never expected you to hurt me. Superman seemed larger-than-life and good in a way that meant I wouldn’t be risking my heart at all. And, well, there’s a lot that goes into it, but basically, I thought I needed to have someone successful love me in order to prove that I was lovable—can’t get much more successful than Superman,” she said with a wry smile. “I mean every woman in the world wants to be with you.”

Clark shook his head. “No, all those women want to be with the fantasy of Superman, not the reality of me. Lois, I am far from perfect. I have an even harder time trusting people than you do. I work obscene hours. I have to run off at a moment’s notice. Some days I’m a wreck when a rescue goes badly. And, even though I don’t want to, I think I’ve proven that I will hurt you. I’m human.”

She gave him a small smile. “Don’t you mean Kryptonian?”

“Yeah. And that means a lot of things I probably don’t even think about. Having a relationship with me means dealing with all of that. I’m not normal,” he said.

“Who is?”

Clark gave a half-shrug. “Pretty much everyone else on earth.”

Lois gave him a look. “No one feels normal. Everyone feels like they don’t fit in at some point or another.”

“Yes, but they actually are normal.”

She shrugged. “My point is that it isn’t just you who doesn’t feel like they fit in. No one fits in even though we’re all pretty similar.”

Clark hesitated. Was it really that simple? He’d been focused on the fact that he was so different from everyone else, especially in the early days when he’d been learning to control his powers, but maybe he should have been recognizing the similarities—after all, no one knew that Clark was from another planet. “Hmm. I guess I’ve spent so much of my life wishing that I were normal that I never thought about that.”

Lois frowned. “Clark, do you think that’s why you didn’t see yourself as Superman?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like you said, Superman is the side of you that’s not-normal. Maybe you were predisposed to think of ‘Clark’ as yourself because you wanted to be normal so badly.”

Clark stilled. He’d never thought of it that way, but it made a lot of sense. “See, this is why I need you. You see me better than anyone else, even before when you thought I was two people. You understand that side of me better than I do some days.”

Lois blushed. “I think it’s just common sense.”

“Not at all,” he maintained. Then, remembering why Lois had said she’d been attracted to Superman, he asked, “You do know that you don’t need someone to prove that you’re lovable, right?”

“I’m starting to,” Lois said slowly.

“Good. Because I think you’re very lovable, no matter what anyone else says or thinks or who loves you.”

“Thanks, Clark.”

He cleared his throat. “I know why I reacted the way I did after Luthor proposed, and hopefully I conveyed all that in my story, but can you, um—”

“Explain my side?”

“Yeah.”

She stood and began pacing in front of him. “I don’t know. It didn’t make sense. You know how I jump into the pool without checking the water level. I just”—she waved her arms in the air—”I just couldn’t deal with losing the Planet. I’m a different person now, and I would handle it differently if it happened today, but at the time, I thought I was losing myself, losing everything that made me worthwhile. It goes back to lots of boring family stuff.” She huffed. “No, that’s a lie. I’ve been doing this thing lately: trying to catch the lies I tell myself. It’s not really ‘boring family stuff.’ It’s just—uncomfortable to talk about.” She turned to study Clark’s bookshelves. “See my dad wanted a son, not a daughter. So I was never good enough for him. And even though I rebelled and went into journalism instead of medicine, I was still trying to prove to myself that he was wrong.” She sniffed, trying to keep the tears from overflowing. “I ended up with Lex because I was trying to prove that I could be a success, that someone successful wanted me.” She turned to face him. “But, Clark, I said ‘no.’ I realized that I didn’t want to marry Lex, so you know that part with the ‘do you so-and-so take so-and-so to be your lawfully wedded husband’? I said ‘no.’” For the first time since she’d done it, the memory brought a smile to her face. “You should have seen the look on his face.” She giggled. “It was like he’d never heard the word before in his life.”

“He probably hadn’t,” Clark said dryly.

Lois gasped as she realized where Clark had been those two days he’d been missing around her wedding.

“What?” Clark asked.

“What did Lex do to you?” she demanded.

“What?”

“You told me that he had Kryptonite and held you prisoner.” She held his gaze. “Clark, what did he do to you? And don’t give me any of that ‘it’s too much for me to hear’ crap.”

Clark winced. “What exactly do you want to know? I already told you the basics.”

“How did he get you there? Why did you go? How’d you escape?”

“He left a message for Superman on Clark’s machine saying that he wanted to talk to me about you. I went because I was worried, and I hadn’t thought about him having Kryptonite. I was arrogant and stupid. I escaped because he came down to gloat just before your wedding and left the keys where I could see them and a cummerbund around my neck. I was able to use it to get the key, and then I changed into my Clark clothes and escaped.”

Lois wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. She felt like he still hadn’t answered her question, but maybe now wasn’t the time to press. But if not now, when? “What was the Kryptonite like?”

“Uncomfortable,” he said shortly.

Lois frowned at him.

He held up a hand. “I know you want more details, but I’m just not comfortable talking about it. I don’t like thinking about it, let alone talking about it. Here; I’ll tell you exactly what I told my parents: Luthor had a cage coated with Kryptonite.” He suppressed a shudder. “By the time I got out of it, I was completely drained of my powers—obviously, since it took them weeks to come back.”

“Oh, Clark, that sounds awful. I mean, when you said that he had Kryptonite and held you prisoner, I wasn’t envisioning a cage.” She exhaled noisily and sank back onto the couch, exhausted by the reality of all Lex represented. “Treating Superman like an animal sounds like his style. He probably hated that you were more powerful than him,” she said, staring at the television in front of them.

Clark winced. He had been treated like an animal, but hearing it aloud sounded so much worse than in his own mind. “We weren’t on good terms.”

“I can’t believe that you had this whole”—she waved a hand in the air—”relationship with him and I didn’t know anything about it, not from you—either of you—or Lex.”

Clark made a face. “We were enemies. I wouldn’t call it a relationship.”

“You know what I mean. It was obvious that you didn’t like him, and he wasn’t a fan of you either, but I thought that was just a personality clash. I know I’ve said it before, but I am sorry that I didn’t listen to your instincts. You’re so good at listening to mine. I just didn’t want to admit that mine might be wrong, that they didn’t even go off around the most evil man I’ve ever come into contact with.”

“Lois, he kept you so off-balance they didn’t even have a chance to go off.”

She looked over at him. “I actually came to that conclusion too. It helps to hear it from someone outside the situation though.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m outside it. Anyway, thanks for telling me. When I was trying to understand where you’d been coming from, I realized that I had made things a lot worse. When I told you that I loved you, I took away my support as Clark—not that I’d been able to be supportive about Luthor, but I could have at least listened to you. And, as I said, I should have told you about Luthor as Superman.”

Lois put a hand on his arm. “You do know that I would have believed Superman, but only because I knew he might have seen things with his powers that I wouldn’t have. I can’t say that my feelings for Superman wouldn’t have played into it, but I wasn’t ignoring your warnings because I thought you were lying—you’d just never given me anything more than insinuations. And I knew you were jealous.”

“Yeah. And you were right: I was. I wanted what he had. I still do,” he said quietly.

Lois shifted to hold his gaze, searching to see if he really meant what he’d said. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. Even the past few months when I’ve been hurt and angry, I still haven’t been able to leave you. I—I never thought I’d tell anyone about my Kryptonian heritage, except whoever I married—and I’m not talking about marriage yet—but I realized that I’d made it impossible for you to love me because I’d never let you see me. I rushed you before, and I’m trying to avoid that now, but, Lois, I know I want us, whatever that looks like. I don’t know how to do a relationship like this where the other person knows about my powers, where I’m trying to be Clark Kent, Kerth-award winning investigative reporter”—he shot her a teasing look—”and Superman—I’ve never tried it. But after realizing what life without you would be like, I realized that I want to try, even if it’s hard and messy. Life is hard and messy. I don’t know why I expected a relationship to be any different.”

“Clark, are you sure? I mean, look at what a mess I made of things before.”

“I want you. I love who you are, mess and hang-ups and all. You wouldn’t be you without them and you are beautiful to me. The question is: what do you want?”

What did she want? Having a relationship—a real relationship—with Clark was so much bigger than whether she wanted Clark or not. She knew she wanted him; she loved him. But a real relationship would require her to be as fierce in her personal life as she was in her professional life. It meant things like telling Clark the kinds of things she never told anyone—everything from her past to her closet Ivory Tower obsession. It meant sharing herself. It meant being honest about her own secrets and continuing to work through the ones she’d already discovered. She mentally grimaced, realizing that she could only get so far by herself which probably meant that it was time to call Dr. Friskin. Having a real relationship would be a huge step.

And there was the whole dating Superman thing: she’d always wanted to support him, to provide companionship, and to be there for him after rescues, but now that she was faced with the reality—could she actually do it?

For a moment she considered telling Clark “no,” that she wasn’t ready and wasn’t sure she ever would be, but then the thought of life without him hit her once more. If she refused, he’d move on, eventually date and marry someone else. She didn’t know how things would go if they tried a relationship, but she was certain she never wanted to be without Clark.

She took a deep breath, straightening her spine as she resolved to meet the challenge head-on, to refuse to let her past determine her future. She reached up to cup his cheek. “Yes, I do want us. I don’t know how this will go. You know I’m a mess. I realized on my wedding day that I don’t want to be without you though.” She hesitated, then plowed on, remembering how heartbroken she’d been on her wedding day realizing she’d never told him how she really felt. “I love you, Clark.”

He put a hand over hers, drawing her closer. “I love you too, Lois. We’ll just figure it out together.”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning towards him.

He took the hint and kissed her. It was everything he’d remembered and more. Kissing her without the secret between them, here in his Clark clothes without his glasses, knowing that she loved him, made every single one of his daydreams pale. He pulled back, sliding his hand up to caress her cheek.

“So what now?” she asked, looking up at him, a smile that felt permanent on her face.

He shrugged. “We take it a day at a time?”

“Yeah.”

“And”—he glanced at the clock—”it’s the middle of the night. Want me to take you home and maybe we can do something tomorrow on our day off?”

“That sounds nice. What’d you have in mind?”

“We haven’t done pizza and a movie in a while, or we could go out on a real date. Maybe I could even take you to that Chinese place you like so much.”

Her eyes narrowed as she realized how Clark was always able to find such good food. “It’s in China, isn’t it? That’s why you wouldn’t tell me where it was.”

He grinned. “Yup.”

She couldn’t help but smile back; he was so boyishly pleased. “How about I call you in the morning whenever I wake up? How much sleep do you need anyway?”

“Less than you,” he said teasingly.

“No wonder you can eat whatever you want and still look like that!” she exclaimed.

Clark chuckled fondly. He’d known that Lois would be curious about every single facet of his powers and that she’d intuitively grasp things left and right, but it was still fun to watch. “I get most of my energy from the sun. I do need some sleep, but only about four hours per night. It was more when I was a kid. And I eat because I like to eat, not because I need to. My metabolism doesn’t seem to have a problem with whether or what I eat.”

“I guess I’m going to be finding out little things like that for a while, huh?”

“Isn’t that what dating is all about?” he said with a smile.

“I guess.”

“So, want me to take you home?”

“You mean walk me home?”

“No, I mean fly you home,” he said with a grin. “I’ve always wanted to fly you somewhere as myself.”

Lois opened and closed her mouth. Sure a part of her had dreamt of that when she’d imagined dating Superman, but it had been in a this-will-never-happen kind of way. “I’d love that!”

“We can even take the scenic route if you want.”

“Um, okay,” Lois said.

Clark stepped away from her and spun into the Suit.

Lois gave a little gasp as she realized how quickly he was able to change. “No wonder you can pull off being two people. I never even realized that I’d never seen both of you together until I was reading your story.”

Clark held out a hand and Lois took it, walking to stand right in front of him. Holding onto her hips, Clark lifted them off and flew them out the window. “That’s definitely part of it,” he agreed.

As Clark lifted off with Lois in his arms, Lois put her arms around his neck, her heart racing as she realized that it was the fulfillment of all her dreams, but at the same time better than anything she’d ever imagined. Somehow even with Clark in the Suit, he was still himself. Superman was the fantasy, but Clark—the Clark who was both Clark and Superman—was the real thing. She could never have made a life with Superman, but a life with Clark was a definite possibility. He was right. She did know him—maybe not as well as she wanted to, but that was what dating was for, as he’d said.

“So what’s the scenic route entail?” she asked coyly.

“What do you want it to entail? This isn’t the last time I’ll take you flying, so we don’t have to do much if you’re tired.”

“I am tired, but I’m enjoying this too much to want to go home any time soon.”

Clark thought for a moment, then flew them high enough that they could see the sunrise over the curve of the earth. “How’s this for scenic?”

“It’s beautiful,” Lois said, looking around in awe.

“Yes, it is,” Clark said, staring down at her. “And it’s even more beautiful having someone to share it with.”

Lois caressed the nape of his neck, once more realizing how lonely Clark must have been. Not only had he spent his life hiding, he had so many experiences that he couldn’t share with anyone. She pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”

“For?”

She waved a hand towards the sunrise. “This. For being you. For letting me see the real you. For pursuing me all those months ago when we first met. I’d never appreciated how much effort you went to until I was trying to pursue a friendship with you. We never would have gotten here without you.”

“It was worth it. Trust me, the pleasure is all mine,” he said, tightening his hold on her.

Before long, Lois began to hold back yawns, and Clark decided it was time to get her home. He flew down, skimming over Metropolis on the way to her apartment. Looking down he could see the Daily Planet rising up, whole and unblemished. Maybe that had been his problem the past few months, he mused—he’d been trying to figure out how to rebuild what they’d had before Luthor when he should have been trying to build something new.

Just like he’d done to the Daily Planet, Luthor had lobbed a bomb into their relationship—a bomb that had only been able to destroy so much because their foundation had been unstable. In a way Luthor had done them a favor: they might have taken much longer to actually deal with these issues without his intrusion into their lives—not that Clark was going to be thankful for the man any time soon. They’d spent the past few months sorting through the rubble and clearing away what was unusable. Yes, they would use much of the same foundation they’d had before, but many of the old blocks had been riddled with secrets and bitterness, poisoned by his lie and Lois’s scorn. They’d both changed and it was time to do something new. Something stronger than ever.