Twins: 8/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
As the imposter rocketed away, she glanced back at her partner, trying to decide if she was imagining things. Ever since that night in Clark's apartment, when she had been recovering from the effects of Miranda's perfume, she had been struggling to remember something, some event that escaped her.
It had been the glasses, she remembered suddenly. Wally had broken Clark's glasses and she had reached out to take them. For an instant Clark had frozen and she had been looking at Superman's face. Then he had gone quickly into his room and returned with an older pair of glasses.
She'd been focussed on her pounding headache, she recalled, and besides, she had already noticed earlier that night that Clark looked a great deal like Superman. The event simply hadn't really registered except in her subconscious memory. She hadn't realized just how close Clark's resemblance to Superman really was. Until now. They could have been twins.
Only they weren't twins, of course. There was only one of them -- one of him. She had realized when Superman had told her his history that he had been raised as an ordinary man, and probably lived and worked somewhere in Metropolis. She hadn't known how close to the truth she was.
Her first impulse to say something to him died almost before it was born. Something didn't make sense here, and for just this once she wasn't going to jump in without checking the water level. He couldn't know what she had suddenly realized. Until she figured out exactly what was going on here, it was probably better to say nothing, but once she did, Clark Kent had better have a good explanation, or he was going to be toast.
**********
And now, Part 8:
"That was the imposter," Lois said, glancing sideways at Clark. "He didn't recognize me. He *smirked* at me. Superman doesn't smirk. He may look like Superman but he sure doesn't *act* like Superman."
"I know," Clark said. "I mean," he added quickly, "it was obvious. The real Superman always treats women with respect; he doesn't leer at them. Besides, he'd never throw anybody like he did that guy. It could have really injured him."
"He'd taken all those bank employees hostage," Lois said. "He could have killed them." She kept her eyes on the road, but the remark wasn't as casual as it sounded.
"True, but no one was in danger anymore," Clark said firmly. "There was no excuse for using excessive force to recapture him. Superman doesn't need to hurt people to catch them. The guy is like a kid -- someone that hasn't learned any adult restraint."
Lois bit her lip. That was Superman talking, all right. Why had she never before noticed how similar his ethics were to Clark's? Clark was the gentlest person she knew. Now she knew why. "You know, it's like some of the comic books," she said. "Didn't you ever read comics when you were a kid?"
"Sure."
"Well, then you know how the supposedly adult super-heroes were always jumping to conclusions, losing their tempers and getting into fights with each other for stupid things. Comics are designed to appeal to teenage males. Kids. That's what he acts like."
"Someone who hasn't developed mature judgement," Clark agreed, "but he's an adult, physically. Superman looks like he's in his late twenties and so does this guy."
She nodded, skillfully negotiating the always-crowded streets of Metropolis. All kinds of possibilities were circling in her head, but she had the feeling that the difference between the double's physical appearance and his apparent emotional maturity might hold the key. "What if he's not as old as he looks?"
"What do you mean?" Clark asked.
"I'm not sure. There was something I read recently -- some scientist cloned frogs, I think."
"You think this guy is a *clone*?"
She turned the Jeep into the Planet's parking structure. "I'm not thinking anything, yet. It's just one possibility, but I want to check it out."
"I don't think science is quite that advanced," Clark said. "Besides, cloning an intelligent being is a far cry from cloning a frog. I don't think any reputable scientist would consent to something that unethical."
She pulled into the parking space closest to the elevator. "You feel that way and so do I, but if someone were working on it, Lex would be the one who would try it. For Pete's sake; he was going to use Miranda's pheromone on people to somehow influence their behavior to his benefit; we know that. He even tried to kill you and use the pheromone's effects as an excuse. Would you put any kind of unethical behavior past him if he thought he could get some kind of advantage out of it? I wouldn't."
Clark opened his mouth and then closed it again. "You're right. We shouldn't eliminate any possibility, no matter how unlikely."
"I'm glad you agree," Lois said, cutting the engine. "Let's get busy. Superman is counting on us, and besides, I think Metropolis might have more of a problem than we first thought."
Clark didn't say anything, but he was frowning as he followed her toward the elevator. Looking at him with her new knowledge, she could now pick out Superman's features behind the glasses and the different hairstyle. It was interesting, she thought, how he had come to her for help in spite of the fact that he was a very good investigative journalist in his own right. It meant that Clark really did respect her intelligence and her skills as a reporter. It was nice to know that, but the fact that he had managed to pull the wool over her eyes for all these months was a little humiliating all the same. How had she managed to miss the many similarities between her partner and Superman? Now that she knew what to look for, they were plain as day.
Looking back, all of it was so obvious to her now. He hadn't been affected by Miranda's pheromone in spite of being sprayed, and he'd practically told her the truth the other night -- and yet somehow she'd completely missed all the clues. Some reporter she was! She'd been completely blind; that was all there was to it, and she couldn't quite understand why.
When the elevator arrived, he let her enter first. She glanced at him again, recalling what he had said a short time ago in the Cherokee. Superman always treated women with respect, and for that matter so did Clark. She had never once seen him show disrespect for any woman, even Cat Grant at her most irritating. Even at the beginning of their acquaintance when he had sent her in search of Superman's spaceship at the Metropolis Sewage Reclamation Facility, he'd let her get herself into the mess through her own obsession with Superman ...
She could feel the blood draining from her face at the thought and her gut clenched up. Oh god. She had been wondering why he hadn't told her, his friend and partner, about himself. That was almost certainly the main reason. She had demonstrated for him graphically that she would go to any lengths for a story, even to the point of stealing it from a colleague. From him. He had every reason to be afraid that she would betray his secret for that Pulitzer that she had told him was her goal someday. If she had anyone to blame for his failure to tell her the truth, she could probably blame herself. She had given him a good example of why he shouldn't tell her too much, and now it was coming back to haunt her in spades.
But didn't he know that had been an aberration? That wasn't the real Lois Lane; she'd been temporarily insane or something. That was the only reason she could think of now to explain her completely out-of-bounds behavior at the time. Surely he must know that! He'd never mentioned the incident since that day. Could it be that he was still holding it against her?
"Lois, are you all right? You're white as a sheet." Clark's arm was suddenly around her and his voice in her ear sounded very concerned. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she muttered. "I'm all right."
But it wasn't a matter of holding it against her, she thought. Clark didn't hold grudges. He'd told her that he did trust her the night Superman had asked for her help, and maybe he did ... but how far? She had shown him that given enough temptation she would violate her principles, and he had too much to lose -- his privacy, his career, the safety of his parents -- to take the risk of telling her the truth.
The elevator doors opened and Clark steered her out of the elevator to the nearest chair. "Sit down for a minute," he urged. "What happened? Did you hurt your foot?"
"I'm fine," she repeated. "Really; I'm fine."
"You're sure?" She could see the worry in his face. "For a minute it looked like you were going to pass out."
"No, I just jarred my foot," she said, seizing on the excuse he'd unintentionally given her. "It's okay now."
He still looked worried but seemed to accept her explanation. "Okay. Why don't you sit down at your desk and rest it. You don't want to make it worse."
"Clark, I just bumped it a little." His concern was gratifying and annoying at the same time, but then Superman couldn't be hurt. The prospect was completely foreign to him on a personal level, and probably a little scary. "It's already feeling better."
He still seemed doubtful, but released her shoulders. Still, she noticed that he stayed close to her as they made their way down the ramp onto the newsroom floor, and after she was seated at her desk he snatched up her coffee cup and made a direct line for the coffeepot. While his back was turned toward her she let herself take a deep, if somewhat shaky breath. It seemed that she had some bridges to rebuild. Somehow, she had to show Clark that he didn't have to be afraid that she would expose his secret to anyone for any reason. If she could do that, maybe he would tell her the truth of his own accord.
Clark set the mug on a corner of her desk. "Lois, what's wrong? You look upset. Are you sure you're all right?"
She grabbed the mug and took a sip, stalling until she was certain that she had control of her voice. Clark had fixed it just the way she liked it, of course. He always did. "I'm *fine*, Clark." He didn't look convinced and she groped for some other reason to explain her upset. "Really. It's ... personal. I don't want to talk about it right now. I'll be all right, really."
He cast her a dubious look but didn't push the matter any farther. Lois drank her coffee, trying to regain her calm. Wallowing in guilt wasn't the answer. She had to think this through rationally and she didn't have the time right now. There was too much to do. She needed time to come up with some kind of plan but the first change she had to make was to do as she had decided last night before she had made this incredible discovery; she would stop taking him for granted and start treating him better. Besides, now was her chance to find out more about the man as he really was. It should be an interesting investigation she told herself determinedly, trying to put a new perspective on the thing.
But before she got too involved with that, they still had this situation with the imposter to resolve. She had to solve this thing for Clark. It was the least she could do to prove to him that he could rely on her.
"Jimmy!" she shouted.
**********
"Thanks, Inspector. I appreciate it." Clark hung up the phone and glanced at his jotted notes. The perp from this morning's hostage situation had a long string of petty crimes behind him and a couple of felony arrests in the last couple of years, but it looked as if he had graduated to the big time with today's attempted bank robbery and subsequent attempt to negotiate his way out of it by taking hostages. It would only take a couple of minutes to write this up as a sidebar to Lois's article on the hostage situation itself.
He glanced at Lois, who was studying a sheet of paper that Jimmy had given her minutes before. He was still worried about her, but the upset expression had disappeared from her face to be replaced with a look of intense concentration, and he gave a sigh of relief. It looked as if she was back to normal, but whatever personal problem was bothering her, she obviously wasn't ready to tell him about it.
He bit his lip. His partner was a fascinating person in every way. Of course, he'd been crazy about her since he'd met her, but she'd told him not to fall for her -- a useless admonition, since it was already an accomplished fact, but of course she didn't know that. The pheromone episode a few months ago had shown him that she wasn't nearly as indifferent to him as she liked to pretend, so he hadn't given up hope -- at least not yet. Of course, she hadn't given up her crush on his alter ego, either, and sometimes he had to fight down the temptation to tell her the truth. If he did, he wouldn't have to compete for her attention. On the other hand, old habits were strong. His father's repeated warnings never to let anyone know what Clark Kent could do were deeply ingrained in him.
Lois, though, was another story altogether. A few months ago he hadn't been as sure, but he and Lois had become much closer friends since Miranda had intruded on their lives, and now he didn't really have any fear that Lois would betray him, at least intentionally. Accidents were known to happen, of course, and the more people who knew, the more likely it was that someone would accidentally spill the beans, but that wasn't really a factor that worried him.
No, trusting Lois wasn't an issue. Far more importantly, when he did tell her the truth she was definitely going to be mad. He still had to figure out how to accomplish that and avoid annihilation by Mad Dog Lane, but before he even considered telling her, he had to know that she wanted him for *him*, not for his powers. As long as she was dazzled by Superman it sometimes seemed hopeless that she would ever notice him that way, but every now and then he found cause for optimism -- to believe that maybe she wasn't as indifferent to him as she acted. Every time he was tempted to give up, his memories of her behavior when she had been affected by the Revenge would give him reason to hope again.
He had come in a full circle again, he reflected wryly. That was the way it always happened when he was thinking about Lois. The woman occupied far too much of his thoughts for comfort. Not that he intended to stop thinking about her. It was a much too pleasant, if frustrating exercise.
Still, if she didn't feel comfortable confiding in him when something was bothering her then he still had a long way to go. As far back as he could remember, when one of his parents had been upset about something the first person he or she would go to was the other. Maybe the day would come when that would also be true of Lois and him. At least, he hoped so.
"Lois Lane?"
The sound of an unfamiliar male voice speaking his partner's name brought his attention instantly back to the subject of his frustrated musings. A young man in the uniform of a messenger was standing beside her desk, holding out a sealed envelope.
"Yes," Lois said.
He handed her a clipboard. "I need you to sign for this."
"All right." Lois signed, and took the envelope he handed her. He stood in front of her desk, obviously waiting for something. Lois raised her eyebrows questioningly.
"Oh," he said, "I'm supposed to wait for a response."
Clark watched over the rims of his glasses as she tore it open and read it. Her eyebrows climbed and she looked up. "The answer is a definite yes."
The messenger turned and departed. Lois frowned and read the letter a second time, then looked up to meet Clark's eyes. "This is interesting."
"Something I should know about?"
"Probably. Take a look." She held out the paper.
Clark stretched his arm out and took it with the tips of his fingers.
The writing was unfamiliar, and oddly awkward but the message was succinct.
"Dear Lois:
Please forgive me for my behavior today. May I see you tonight at nine?
Yours, Superman."
"Superman?" Clark frowned at the paper, not sure what to say. He hadn't sent this letter, but how was he supposed to tell Lois that? Maybe he could make a quick exit and return as Superman.
Lois solved the problem. "Clark, don't you see? Superman didn't send this. He hasn't done anything to apologize to me for. I haven't even seen him today. It has to be the imposter."
He let out his breath. "If you knew that, why did you say yes?"
She looked at him as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "This is my chance to talk to him, of course. Maybe I can find out something useful about him."
"It could be dangerous," he protested feebly.
"I doubt it. He hasn't hurt anyone so far. Much, anyway -- and even if it is a *little* dangerous, we can't pass up the chance to learn about this guy."
"But ..." He let the objection trail off. What could he say? Lois wouldn't appreciate his attempt to meddle, and would undoubtedly ignore any objections he could pose. It would be better, he decided, to keep an eye on things from a distance, and if it looked like Lois was losing control of the situation, he would intervene.
"You're right," he said.
Lois's eye widened slightly, as if she had expected him to argue more forcefully, then she seemed to recover and nodded briskly. "I'm glad you agree. I guess I'd better phone in an order to Chen Yung's Chinese Restaurant."
**********
tbc
