From part 4:
Another picture frame on the nightstand caught her eye. This one clearly had no dust on it, but it was laying face down. Curious now to see who it could be, she reached for it and grabbed it carefully. She turned the frame over and looked at the picture within.
OH.
MY.
GOD.
She gasped and nearly dropped the frame. It was *her*! But no picture she ever remembered taking. She started to wrack her memory for that moment, when she heard a noise behind her.
She froze.
The sound was kind of a strangled gasp, like someone had tried to say something, but the words hadn't come out. Lois forced herself to turn around slowly.
It was him.
Superman.
TBC...
~~~Part 5~~~
Clark stared at the woman in his bedroom.
It was a dream.
It had to be a dream.
She wasn't real.
He tried to say her name, but it came out more of a mangled gasp than anything resembling the English language. She turned around then, and he could hear her heart racing, the sound filling his senses.
It wasn't a dream.
She wasn't a ghost. Ghosts didn't have heartbeats.
But the other Lois Lane did...
Could it be her?
No, the other Lois wouldn't be staring at him, terrified, her heart racing wildly.
"Hi." Her voice was trembling slightly, and she looked as if she'd thought she'd seen a ghost herself.
Clark couldn't say anything. He just stared. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't.
Lois was dead. He'd just spent an hour trying to convince himself that he *could* survive without her. There was no way for her to be standing in his bedroom, looking like... Well, like a living, breathing Lois Lane.
For a long set of moments, the air seemed to be charged. He stood there, frozen as she stared at him, his heart scattering about in his chest like an insect caught in a jar. He tried desperately to read her emotions, searching the deep brown color of her eyes and trying not to get lost. He thought he saw a flash of something there... longing? No. That had to be his imagination. Wishful thinking. Far too many dreams. Her eyes only held fright and more than a touch of wariness.
That was when it hit him. The picture she was holding. He glanced at the frame and back up at her eyes. The spell they both seemed to be under broke and he let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
"Hi," he finally replied, his voice shaky at best.
Awkward was an understatement at this point. All the relief he'd felt from seeing her - realizing that she *was* alive and well and standing in his bedroom - left him then, and was replaced with a sudden sense of dread.
"You must be Lois Lane," he tried cautiously, his voice a little stronger, but still far from normal. Surely she heard his heart pounding.
There was a long moment of silence before she spoke. "How... where... where did you get this?" She offered up the framed picture to him.
"It's a long story, Lo - Ms. Lane. Maybe if you sit down, I can try to explain."
"Wait a minute." The fear he'd seen in her disappeared and was replaced with indignation. "Just who the heck are you, Clark "Superman" Kent? And what game are you trying to play here? How do you know my name? I'll have you know, everyone thinks I'm dead, so how do you even know I'm alive? Where did you get this picture? And... *why* are you looking at me like that?!"
Don't smile, Clark. Smiling would not be good right now. As her last words processed through his mind, he realized that he *was* smiling. He couldn't help it.
She was alive. She was fiery and determined. She was *babbling* in his bedroom. She was glaring at him; actually, giving him the look of death was more accurate. Clark quickly wiped the smile off his face.
"I'm sorry. Why don't I make some coffee? We can sit down and I'll explain everything to you."
She seemed to visibly relax some, though he could tell she was still on edge. He couldn't blame her, considering the circumstances. He was still on edge himself, teetering precariously on the edge of a cliff was more like it.
Why was she here in the first place? He discounted unbelievable luck on his part; that just didn't happen. Clark had half a mind to ask, but he wasn't going to. He didn't want to take the chance of scaring her off, not when she was finally here.
"Here." He gestured in the direction of the living room. "Go ahead and have a seat, and I'll get coffee started." He looked down at himself, suddenly self-conscious in the suit. "And I'll change into something more comfo... something else."
Lois just nodded mutely and made her way to the couch. She took a seat on the far side, the picture frame still gripped firmly in her hands.
"I... uh... I'll just go start the coffee," he stammered.
Great first impression, Clark, he told himself on his way to the kitchen. She was watching him; he could feel her eyes on his back. He must look a sight, measuring coffee grounds wearing loud blue spandex and a flashy red cape. Ostentatious.
He finished quickly and hit the button to start the coffee brewing. He chanced a quick look at Lois - who was suddenly fascinated with the upholstery on the sofa - as he made his way to his bedroom. For the first time since he'd moved here, he wished there was a door to his room to give him a better sense of privacy.
As soon as he was within the semi-privacy of his room, his mind began to spin, as if reality had waited until that moment to hit. Lois was alive.
*His* Lois.
Lois was here. Alive. And sitting in his living room, negating the sole reason he'd been depressed, suicidal.
Shouldn't he be happier? Shouldn't the feeling of gloom have simply disappeared the moment he'd seen her?
It *should* have.
But it hadn't.
He still felt as though his future was anything but bright and hopeful. Maybe it was because Lois had looked at him with only trepidation bordering on fear. She hadn't fallen into his arms and declared her undying love for him. He...
He *hadn't* fallen in love with her at first sight.
There'd been no fluttering of butterflies, no magic, no fireworks... just the cold, blunt shock of seeing her there in his room. Alive. A little excitement if he admitted it to himself, yes, but nothing like it was supposed to be. The undeniable and shocking reality of it all was too much to handle.
This was all wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to work.
But then again... Lois Lane wasn't supposed to be alive.
Clark took a shuddering breath and turned to his closet, ignoring the confused and defeated man who was hovering on the periphery of his vision in the full-length mirror.
Was it possible to be depressed and deliriously happy at the same time?
He didn't know whether to sit down and cry with relief or run and hide. Unfortunately, neither of those was an option right now. His frequent dreams *might* have prepared him for this completely unheard-of meeting, but when it came right down to it, he had absolutely no idea how to deal with the situation as it stood now.
He'd have to tell her about the other Lois. But how did you tell someone you had a picture of them because the dead writer H.G. Wells took you to a parallel universe to pretend to be an exact replica of yourself, and while there, you developed feelings for your counterpart's fiancée, who just happens to look exactly like the person you're trying to tell? At least, how could he tell her without having her think that he was an insane psychopath?
Clark closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefingers. He thought he had a headache.
He shook his head. Focus, Clark!
Okay, something to wear. He stared at his closet and his mind drew a blank. *What* did he change into? He eyed a suit for a split second, then shook his head. No, that was stupid. He wanted to impress her, but now was *not* the time for that.
Jeans and a t-shirt. Sure, it was plain and sort of Kansas farm boyish, but it was better than the supersuit.
He changed clothes and then took a deep breath, trying not to think about the fact that this conversation would most likely determine whether or not this Lois would even talk to him again.
Clark entered the living room slowly. She looked up when he neared and stared at him, her mouth hanging open. She shut it quickly, though, and her face went back to the cautious look he'd seen earlier.
He was suddenly very self-conscious. Maybe he shouldn't have changed. For a moment there, he'd thought she might have been looking at him like other women often did when he was in the Suit.
But he'd imagined it. He had to get a grip on his emotions, try and separate his dreams from this all too real nightmare of a reality.
"So..." Clark started as he sat down in the armchair, which was hopefully situated near enough, but not too close to make Lois nervous.
She just stared at him.
"I guess you already know my name is Clark Kent, also known as Superman." His voice came out defeated. He realized something else then... even if everything somehow worked out the way it was *supposed* to, he'd never be "just Clark" with her. He'd never have that.
She only nodded in response, clearly waiting for him to continue.
He sighed heavily and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. The babbling Lois of minutes ago had disappeared, leaving a mute Lois in her place. She wasn't saying anything. In fact, if it weren't for the sound of her racing heart, he might have thought she was an apparition after all. No, she wasn't going to participate in the conversation just yet, so it was up to him. Hopefully, he wouldn't appear a complete lunatic in her eyes.
"Look, Ms. Lane, this story is rather far-fetched and fantastical, I know you probably won't believe me, but it's the truth, and it would probably help if you just let me tell you the entire thing first. Then, if you have any questions, or if you just want to run screaming, you can do that afterwards. Okay?"
She nodded. "Okay, but one thing... Ms. Lane sounds too much like... well, I'd just rather you call me Lois."
Foolishly, his heart jumped a little at that. He used the small morsel of delight to bolster his confidence and tried to convince himself that maybe this wouldn't be so bad.
"Lois... I guess I should start at the beginning and tell you why I became Superman."
Clark sighed again. He hadn't had to think about those two days for a long time, and he wasn't sure what her reaction would be. Would she feel like he'd felt when the other Lois had pulled him into the conference room and laid his life out on the table? No, she didn't have a secret to protect, just the innocence of thinking she was alone in the universe... and that there was only *one* universe.
He saw Lois raise an eyebrow at him, silent askance for him to go on.
"Just over a year ago, I met this woman named Lois Lane." Clark held up a hand to halt her question, but it didn't stop her from narrowing her eyes skeptically at him. "Obviously, she wasn't you. She wasn't an imposter either. She was..."
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "This is where it gets more than a little hard to believe. You see, this Lois Lane was from a parallel universe..."
He watched her face. Yeah, she thought he was a lunatic. Certifiable.
Clark rushed on, knowing if he didn't finish, he'd never be able to, "She's from a universe that's somewhat like ours, but different too. In her world, the Clark Kent is an alien like me, but he came up with the idea of Superman - to use his powers for good. Lois was sent here by a deplorable man who wanted to take over the world."
Looneytunes. That was what he read from the expression on her face. He was, in one word, looneytunes.
He plowed on. "She told me all about her world and encouraged me to become Superman. She ended up going home to her universe not too long after." He paused, and just watched Lois. He so badly wanted her to believe him. If she didn't, she wasn't sure how he'd deal with it.
"Right. So... How did she get here and back?"
Damn. It would be too much to hope that he could leave that part out. "hgwells," he mumbled.
"Excuse me?"
"H.G. Wells," he said a bit louder this time.
The look of pure cynicism on her face was disheartening.
"Yeah, the dead science fiction writer, H.G. Wells. Turns out there was a slightly larger emphasis on 'science' than 'fiction' in his writing."
"Okay... *If* this is all true, how does it explain you having my picture? Did this other Lois just happen to bring one with her and accidentally leave it here?"
He winced at her sarcasm, though there had been a note of... something in her voice that said she might believe what she'd suggested, given everything else he'd told her. He wondered if she'd buy it. He really didn't want to have to tell her *everything*. That would certainly send her running for the proverbial hills. But on the other hand, did he really want to lie to her, even if only by omission and a little misdirection? *Could* he lie to her?
TBC...
