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 - 6/15/14Ahhh, well... it looks likes this will be at least 5 parts. Could be more. Who knows? Mel likes to toy with my emotions like that. :rolleyes: Thank you to everyone for your wonderful comments so far! And thank you especially for your patience while my muse and my schedule continue to duel.
I'm doing my best to work on this a little each day, so hopefully part 5 won't be so long in coming, but please bear with me if it is.
Super Shook Up Table of Contents And, without further ado...
~~~Part 4~~~He woke up to the sound of a sharp gasp and looked over to find Lois in the doorway to her bedroom with her mouth hanging open. Why was she staring at him like that?
"You're floating!" she said, and then stood silent for brief moment before the astonished look left her face. "I mean, of course you're floating. You would float. I just didn't realize, wasn't expecting you'd float in your sleep and..."
Floating? He looked around himself. Oh god. He was floating!
And then he hit the floor with a thud, catching the edge of the coffee table on his way down. It scraped a few inches across the floor.
"Oh my god!" She'd moved closer, her hand held out as if she wasn't sure what to do. "Are you okay?"
He rubbed his thigh where the table had hit him. "I... " That ought to have hurt, but it didn't. Odd. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Oh, good." She looked almost confused for a second. "Right, you would be okay, being invulnerable and all."
Floating. Invulnerable? Why did that sound so... familiar?
He watched Lois, still a bit dazed, as she ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it out of its sleep-tousled state. He felt a warm--and familiar--flutter in his chest when he looked at her in her oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts.
She seemed shy all of a sudden. "What?" she asked with a hint of a smile.
He couldn't help but smile back. "Nothing, it's just... after I kept you up all night, you look pretty decent first thing in the morning."
That spooked her, apparently, because her eyes went wide and he was pretty sure he heard her gasp, too. She composed herself quickly, though, and made a nervous gesture towards the kitchen.
"I'll, uh... just make us some coffee." She gave him a weak smile before she disappeared into the kitchen.
He'd been right to back off on the whole relationship neighborhood of conversation last night. If a small compliment like that had made her uncomfortable, how would she react if he simply out and told her about what he'd been feeling ever since she'd rescued him last night?
And what exactly had he been feeling, anyway? It had to be more than simple attraction, didn't it? That look in his eyes from the picture--there'd definitely been more than attraction there. There was no mistaking Lois's attraction for him, but she seemed to be avoiding it.
He stood and went to the end table, picking up the picture again when he got there. His expression in the photograph was definitely one of adoration, quite possibly... love. He couldn't tell from the picture whether or not Lois felt the same way about him, but if he looked hard enough, he could see affection there in her eyes--something that hinted at more than friends, despite what Lois had said last night. That same affection, though, was something he'd noticed when she'd spoken of Clark's being missing. Did she have feelings for him and Clark both? Or maybe she and Clark were in a relationship, so she wasn't free to pursue one with him. Maybe that was why she seemed so unsettled, especially when he'd been... less than clothed.
***
She tried not to bite at her nails as she watched the coffee brew--the first time in her life wishing it would brew more slowly. Pretty decent in the morning, was what he'd said. They were just words. Appropriate words for the situation. So what if they'd been almost the exact words Clark had used just last week when they'd been in the Honeymoon Suite at the Lexor? So what if he'd sounded just like Clark when he'd said them? And so what if she'd gotten the same flutter in her stomach as when Clark had smiled and told her that?
It didn't mean anything. And it certainly didn't mean... that.
Because *that* was an impossibility.
Clark didn't fly; he tripped over his own feet. Clark didn't lift rockets into space; he had trouble opening his orange juice bottles in the morning. And Clark most certainly didn't do things like fly into outer space and save the world because... because Clark could get hurt!
Suddenly, she had to see him. She had to see for herself, convince herself it wasn't true. Her best friend and her crush couldn't be the same person; they just couldn't, especially because, despite all her struggling against it, her best friend had started becoming her crush, too. And she just wasn't sure if she could handle all that.
She made her way cautiously back to the living room and found him studying the picture he'd almost mentioned last night. The one of her and Clark... of her and Superman? The picture that she secretly loved because, if she looked at it just right, she could pretend that Clark had feelings for her and that they'd make a really cute couple even though a relationship--and especially one with Mr. Nowheresville--was the last thing she wanted.
He noticed her presence and held up the picture to her, pointing to her expression in the photograph. "This look on your face, that was because I was editing your copy, wasn't it?"
She tried to swallow back the lump that'd suddenly appeared in her throat, struggling to keep her face from betraying the tumult of emotions assaulting her.
Looking back at the picture, he continued with a slight smile on his face that reminded her so much of Clark, "I think I'm remembering a little. You're always yelling at me not to edit your copy, aren't you? I'm just curious, though... why am I wearing a business suit here? You told me--" He stopped short when he looked back up at her.
She couldn't say anything. She was holding her breath, trying not to cry.
"Lois? What's wrong?"
All Clark. His voice was all concern and all Clark. Her Clark.
Clark was standing in the middle of her living room wearing Superman's suit, asking her why she'd made him wear it.
"Clark." The name came out on a sob, and she wasn't sure if it was a question or a plea.
"What?" he asked. The adorable look of concern and confusion on his face secured the revelation in her mind if the rest hadn't already.
"Because you're Clark Kent." She sniffled and smiled, almost laughing.
"What?" The concern dropped off his face and left confusion there all by itself.
This time she did laugh, softly. His hair was slightly mussed and much more Clark-like than Superman. She stepped closer to him and pointed to his likeness in the picture. "Because that's you. You're wearing the business suit because you're Clark Kent."
"I know that's me! But why..." He was now looking at her with suspicion added to his confusion. "Is this some sort of practical joke you and Clark are playing on me?" He gestured down to his suit and looked back up at her questioningly.
"No... you *are* Clark."
"I am?" he asked, almost wryly. "Then why didn't you bring me some of my normal clothes?! What's with this getup?" He almost whimpered the last line.
It was almost endearing enough to let him get away with. "Because *you*," she said, poking him in the S to emphasize her point. "You never told me you were Clark."
Confusion and a touch of annoyance played across his face. "What the heck are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about you never telling me that you were Superman," she said, matter-of-factly.
"Huh?" His brow furrowed and he tilted his head slightly. "You've been telling me all this time that I *am* Superman--a name, I might add, that is really embarrassing and egotistical. How could you *not* know that I'm... Superman?" He didn't hide the wince at the name this time.
She bit at her lip and tried not to let the all the hurt surface, but his cutting remark about the name--the one she'd given him--nudged a small hole in her defenses. "I... um..."
She turned took the picture from him gently and turned away, putting the frame back where it belonged. She started fussing with the rest of the knickknacks on the table, anything to not look at him right this second. He'd never said anything before. He'd seemed to like the name, and he certainly hadn't told her she could call him anything else. She looked at Clark's smiling face in the picture.
He couldn't have told her his real name, though, could he? What was he supposed to have said, "You can call me Clark"? That wouldn't have gone over well; she knew herself.
She thought she'd known Clark. And it hurt to know that he'd been lying to her for all this time.
She heard him clear his throat behind her. "Uh, Lois," he said softly. "I'm not sure what I did to upset you, but... I'm sorry."
And there he was. Always there to comfort her. Even when he was the one causing the pain. Even when he didn't know who he was. And, suddenly, she was mad at him because she couldn't be mad at him. It wasn't fair, and that just made her want to cry more.
A hand touched her shoulder. "Lois? Are you okay? I didn't mean to..."
She shook her head and wiped at her tears, then finally looked back at him. "C'mon, I'll take you to back to your place to get some normal clothes."
***
He had tried not to watch her the entire drive over to what was apparently his apartment. She'd snuffled a little and wiped the stray tear away, but she hadn't said anything. He couldn't tell if she was mad at him or just upset, though he'd guess the latter.
He didn't understand why she'd thought he was two different people, or why he hadn't told her. He didn't really understand the Superman thing to begin with, let alone why he'd lie about his identity to someone who clearly meant a lot to him. And if her actions were any indication, he clearly meant a lot to her, as well. Why the lies? Why the different names? And, for goodness's sake, why the spandex?
For the first time since she'd found him, he was angry at not having his memory, at not knowing anything. There were so many pieces of this puzzle that just didn't fit, so many little flashes of memory starting to prick at his mind that didn't make sense, and the only thing he knew... the only thing he was one hundred percent certain of was that it hurt to see her so upset. And *that* was a familiar feeling.
Oh, there were other familiar feelings, too, like the little jump in his heart every time she'd smiled and the warm sensation in his chest when he just looked at her. But watching her upset was the most prominent of feelings right now, and he wanted nothing more than to make it go away.
He'd stood by silently as she'd picked the lock on his front door, something he was quite... amused by not being surprised at. Now, she was pacing a bit, obviously flustered.
"I, uh... I'll go get you some--No, wait. It's your bedroom and closet and everything. You should probably just go yourself. I mean, you probably don't want me rooting through your underwear and telling you what to wear. I--" She stopped herself short and turned to glance at the suit he was still wearing. "I, yeah... your bedroom's right through that opening. Whatever you find should fit you just fine because... well, it's yours and--"
"Lois." He stepped towards her, cutting her off and putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Lois."
She shook her head and took a halting breath, as if the babbling and pacing had been acting as a dam for the rest of her emotions. Her whisper was so low, he wasn't sure how he'd heard it. "It's not."
Before he realized what he was doing, he'd gathered her into his arms to hold her. He still didn't quite understand why she was so upset, but comforting her was the only thing he knew to do. It almost seemed... instinctive.
He felt her sag against him, trembling and weeping softly as she did. He held her for long minutes while she cried, whispering and shushing her, telling her it would be okay. Then, her voice still quiet, she spoke again, her breath warm against his chest.
"It's not okay. You're supposed to be Superman. You're supposed to be Clark. And you're not supposed to get hurt." She started to pull away slowly, wiping the tears from her cheek as she did.
"But I feel fine. Look, no harm done." He tried smiling for her as he gestured to his body.
Lois shook her head and put a small hand to his temple. "You don't remember anything." She sniffled again and cast her eyes away from his, drawing her hand back.
"That's not true! I remember the way I--" He stopped himself. He'd been starting to remember just how he felt about her. It'd just been a combination of intense feelings up until a few minutes ago, but now his feelings for her, if nothing else, were starting to make themselves... remembered.
Her eyes came back to his quickly, a hint of hope and anticipation in them. "You remember what?"
Could he tell her that? He didn't know if it was something she'd know he was supposed to remember. What if, among all the other things, he hadn't told her that?
She was still watching him, waiting for a response.
What could he say? What *should* he say? He remembered the way he kept his apartment? He remembered the way he made spaghetti? He remembered the way he made her coffee...
He *did* remember the way she took her coffee, and that he always brought her a cup in the newsroom every morning. And he remembered...
"I remember that I love you. Actually, I don't think I ever forgot that."
She gasped slightly, her face quickly gaining creases of some emotion he couldn't quite place--some place between horror and shock. Oh, no. He hadn't told her before. He started trying to come up with some way to backtrack, but then the creases smoothed into a meager attempt at what he hoped would have been a smile. And then she started crying again.
tbc...
