Note: I'm bumping these first four parts up to "repost" them. Longer note at the bottom of this thread. More to come! Here's the story's TOC.
Sara - 6/15/14From part 1:
Her heart started racing. There must be a room or something behind the wine rack! Clark Kent had been hiding something from her. From everyone. She rushed over to the wooden structure and started feeling along the walls. There had to be some sort of catch or hinge that opened it.
Nothing on either side. She frowned and worried at her lower lip. Maybe if... She pushed at one side of the rack. Nothing. She pushed a little harder, and the whole thing started to pivot, rotating as if on some sort of turntable. She kept pushing until half the section was three feet further back than where it'd started out.
Clark had a... a... She stepped around to look at the opposite side.
A secret compartment...
And half a dozen of Superman's suits.~~~Part 2~~~
Her jaw dropped and all the air disappeared from her lungs.
She...
He...
Clark that... that... fink!
This was why he got all those exclusive Superman interviews! Oh, that just wasn't fair. She would have gladly offered up closet space for an interview or two. But, no... seems Clark and Superman were better friends than either one of them had ever let on.
Clark had a *lot* of explaining to do as soon as she found him. They were partners, for crying out loud! He couldn't have mentioned this?
Superman kept his suits here. Did he live here, too?
No, she would have noticed that.
But even just keeping his suits here... in a closet that was obviously constructed for solely that purpose... Superman spent a good deal of time here, that was for sure. Maybe this was where Superman put his feet up, relaxed, watched tv, chatted with Clark about his day...
Did they talk about her? Complain about her pigheadedness and her unrelenting infatuation?
She let out a slow breath, and her eyes wandered to the spiral staircase leading up to his loft. What other secrets was Mr. Greenjeans hiding from her? She narrowed her eyes and took a step towards his bedroom.
And stopped.
No. She shouldn't. Clark, annoying and underhanded as he was, still had a right to privacy. For now, at least.
And Superman... well, he was lucky he had no memory at the moment.
The important thing now was that her clothing problem was solved. She pulled a suit and a cape from their hangers and draped them over her arm. They hung heavily and the cape dragged on the floor. She couldn't very well take it back to her place like this. She'd need something to put it in. Clark had to have a duffle bag around somewhere.
She managed to find one, and she crammed the suit inside along with a pair of his red boots. If the suit wrinkled, Superman would just have to deal with it. It wasn't like she'd be letting him out anyway, not when he didn't even know who he was.
***
He stepped out of the bathroom, a towel secured around his waist. It felt good to be rid of the dirt and grime that'd been clinging to him. He hoped Lois had found something comfortable for him to wear. The towel was better than nothing, but he still felt... exposed. And vulnerable.
And he had nothing to do until Lois returned with the clothes. He could have a look around, though. She'd said they were friends and he'd been here before, so it wasn't like he'd really be invading her privacy. He'd just be reacquainting himself with the place. And her.
He started towards the knickknacks and things on top of her dresser, but... the bedroom was a bit personal, wasn't it? Maybe she wouldn't appreciate his being in here for longer than it took for him to walk from the bathroom to the living room.
He left the bedroom without another look and found himself staring at the armoire just to the left outside the door with funny shaped blocks of crystal inside. No, those were... Kerth Awards, right? He opened the cabinet to have a closer look. Yup, Kerth Awards for investigative journalism. And, wow, Lois had three of them! She must be quite the journalist.
The other figurines and such didn't give him too much more clue who Lois Lane was, so he closed the cabinet and he wandered further into the living room. There was a picture on the end table. That ought to be of some help. He reached out to grab the frame and turn it so he could see it.
Oh. Wow. It was him. And her. A candid photo, it appeared, taken in what looked to be a newsroom. Must be, since Lois was a reporter, and they were both obviously in business attire. The picture showed her sitting at her desk, hands at the keyboard, and he was leaning over close to her, his hand on her shoulder. He laughed quietly at the silly grin on his face in the picture, probably caused by the look on Lois's face--a challenging glare, one eyebrow hitched--but there was more mischief in there, it seemed, than actual anger.
His eyes in the photograph...
Well, he wasn't sure he quite believed what he was seeing there. Surely, it couldn't be. Lois would have mentioned something if they'd been... were... lov--really close friends.
He brought the frame a bit nearer to him to examine it more closely. It almost looked as if...
The locks on the door started clacking one by one. He set the frame down quickly just as the door opened and a bundle of brunette and duffle bag came bustling through.
"I'm back, and I actually managed to find one of your su--" She stopped mid-sentence and mid-stride.
"Welcome back." He smiled, a little unsure of why she was... oh, right. He was still half naked. At least the towel was more decent than her jacket had been.
"I... uh..." She was staring, slack-jawed.
He shifted uncomfortably and ran a hand through his still wet hair. She'd already seen him... well, wearing less. Why was she...
"You, um..." She blinked, and then shook her head.
He felt a blush rising to his cheeks. "What?"
"Nothing. It's just you reminded me of someone--of..." She shook her head again. "Never mind. It's late. I'm seeing things, and I'm low on caffeine. I didn't have time for much coffee today, what with all the... with the asteroid and such. But you've taken care of that now. Not that I've watched the news to be sure, but I assu--"
"Um, Lois?" he interrupted.
"Huh? What?"
He gestured down to the bag hanging from her arm. Clothes would be nice right now. Really nice.
She glanced down, then back up. "Oh! Here," she said as she opened the bag and pulled out... something. She handed him a bundle of red and blue... spandex? "It's a good thing you keep some extra suits over at Clark's place, otherwise I'm not sure what we'd have done. And you were lucky I found them, too. Quite a hiding place the two of you constructed..."
Her words barely registered. He was staring at the red and blue spandex. No, just the blue was spandex. The red was a heavier, almost silky material. He raised his arm and let the garments hang loosely so he could see... it wasn't seriously a cape, was it?
"Lois?"
"Yes?"
"You're kidding, right?"
"No, you really do keep your suits over at Clark's. *I* didn't know that before, but you have a closet and everything. I know you don't remember much now, but really, how do you think I'd have gotten it otherwise?"
He shook his head. "This isn't a suit. This is... a Halloween costume."
She frowned at him. "It's... it's what you always wear, Superman."
There was the Superman thing again. This had to be a dream. He glanced at the material again. It was this or the towel, apparently, because she hadn’t brought anything else with her. She couldn't be serious; there was no way he wore this all the time. In fact, the picture he'd just seen proved otherwise.
He wanted to tell her he'd just stay in the towel, but he got the distinct impression that it would upset her somehow. She wanted him to wear the costume--expected him to. Not to mention her eyes kept wandering over his chest and... lower.
His eyes flicked to the photograph. If they were... friends after all, maybe she'd already... maybe they'd...
The towel needed to go. Get replaced, rather. And he needed a bit of breathing space.
Well, this costume thing couldn't be that bad, right? At least it would cover more of him.
Lois cleared her throat hesitantly. He looked up to find her holding out the duffle bag to him. There was another piece of clothing inside. He pulled it out and watched Lois as a blush rose in her cheeks.
Red spandex briefs.
"You... uh... you wear them on the outside."
No. No way.
He groaned and gathered the garments against his stomach. She was still holding the duffle bag out. He didn't even want to know what else was in there. He just snatched the bag from her and headed back to the bathroom. Hopefully this nightmare would end soon.
Safely inside the bathroom again, he stepped into the spandex costume and felt the smooth material slide neatly into place. Funny, it was much more comfortable than he would have imagined. Snug and almost familiar.
It took him a minute or two to work out how the harness and the cape were supposed to be worn, but he managed. He cringed inwardly as he pulled the red underwear into place, the red underwear that had... belt loops?
He looked into the duffle bag. Yeah, definitely belt loops to be adorned with a bright yellow belt. There were boots in the bag, too. Red, but he could handle boots. And, thankfully, no more remained in the bag.
He was all dressed now, and nothing felt out of place. Considering. He was scared to look in the mirror, though.
He looked anyway, and... it... actually wasn't half bad. The ensemble seemed well thought out and put together, if loud and a tad garish. Only... the tight-fitting spandex didn't leave much to the imagination. At all.
He gave the discarded towel a longing look, then left the bathroom, wondering if Lois would look at him funny if he came out with the cape wrapped around him, covering his front.
***
She stared at her closed bedroom door. Superman was... not wearing any clothes. In her bedroom. Right now, he was dropping the towel and putting on the spandex. She could... say she forgot something from her room and, oops, didn't realize he'd been...
No, that was a lame excuse.
Then again, the man didn't have a memory. For all he knew, they were involved. Dating, a couple, in a relationship... just like she'd always wished for. Who knew when--or *if*--his memory would come back? He'd need someone who knew him, someone he could tell him all about himself. And it wasn't as if she'd be fudging any of the details, not really. She'd just be embellishing a little. After all, Superman *did* have feelings for her. He'd never been able to hide them very well. All she'd be doing was removing whatever silly inhibitions had kept him at a distance. There wouldn't be any harm in that, right?
She growled at herself and sighed. Get it together, Lane. Superman needed help, not ogling and grandiose plans to make him her significant other. Lies, basically. Superman stood for truth, and here she was plotting to lie to him.
This was *not* the time to take advantage of his vulnerability, as contradictory as the concept of his even being vulnerable seemed. She'd done that once before, just a few weeks ago, and she still felt guilty about it, even though she couldn't quite bring herself to regret kissing him while he'd been under the pheromone spray's influence.
Lois Lane was better than this. She wasn't shallow. So she wasn't going to accidentally look in on him or tell him they were... anything more than friends. The only thing she was going to do was...
What *was* she going to do?
It wasn't like she could call a doctor or take him home to rest. She could tell him as much as she knew about him to try and refresh his memory, but then what? Oh, why couldn't Clark have been home? He would've known what to do. Or at least he could have helped her think of something. Because any minute now, Superman was going to come walking out her bedroom door and ask her--
"So, you said something about dinner?"
... to feed him.
Dang. That hadn't been on the top of her list of concerns. But it should have been.
What the heck did Superman eat?
***
The change into the costume had worked after all. At least insofar as she wasn't gaping at him any longer. She was treating him more... normally. Sort of.
Now there was a slight touch of awe--or something. She seemed a bit more... reserved. If you didn't count her ushering him to have a seat on the couch, then making a mad dash for the kitchen.
Whatever it was, it was disconcerting. This whole "Superman" thing was disconcerting, too. And the costume. That was the most disconcerting of all.
Because... it felt familiar. And it fit perfectly. Which had to mean that Lois had been serious. But even that was confusing because she'd said the costume was what he always wore, yet there was photographic proof that she'd seen otherwise.
That was something he really wanted to ask her about. As soon as she finished remodeling the kitchen. He cast a worried gaze toward the next room where all the rustling of papers and banging of doors and drawers and pans was coming from.
Hadn't she said earlier that she would order takeout? Certainly that didn't involve so much noise and commotion. Maybe she'd decided to cook instead?
He should remind her. He didn't want her to go to any extra trouble for him than she had already, especially because, now that he thought about it, he didn't feel all that hungry.
He was about to get up from the couch when she came bustling back in the room, just a tad winded, and held out a menu for him. It was probably better not to ask what she'd been up to. He just took the tri-folded paper and started to mull it over. She sat on the armchair to watch him.
"Chinese is okay, right? You like Chinese, don't you? I mean, probably not from Peking Palace since you can fly around the world for real Chinese anytime you like. I was trying to find the menu for this place Clark always gets food from, but I guess I don't h--"
"Did you say fly?"
tbc... probably sometime Tuesday 
