Table of Contents
From Part 2:And that was the main reason why any thoughts of Lois as more than a friend were out of the question. Even if she was willing to consider him, a being from another planet, in the light of a boyfriend - which he knew would be very unlikely, despite her early crush on Superman, since after all he knew that she hadn't even considered the consequences of a relationship - he could never risk her safety. As anything more than a friend, he was a danger to her. It was as simple as that.
And that, he thought, was why it was time to leave Ghirardelli’s and get on with doing the tourist thing. Sitting opposite her, sharing her sundae, was just too dangerous. He was at risk of letting himself fall into the trap of seeing the two of them as more than friends; of imagining that they were like the many other couples sitting around in the cafe - that they were a couple.
They weren’t, and he knew they could never be.
So he forced himself to smile at her and to adopt a light, cheerful tone. “Ready to go?”
***********
Now read on...“Wow! The view from here is
incredible!” Lois exclaimed, pressing her face against the protective fence running along the side of the Golden Gate Bridge.
“It’s even better from up there,” Clark said, grinning and gesturing towards the sky. “Later, if you want, we can fly over... I’ll have to stay high, or at least above cloud cover, but still...”
That sounded utterly fantastic. When Clark decided he was going to share his gifts with her, he really went all out to make it spectacular, Lois mused. Some day, some woman was going to be the luckiest person in the whole world.
The thought of Clark with another woman, spending time with her, taking her flying, holding her close to him, made Lois wince painfully inside, her joyful mood of seconds earlier dissipated. But, she reminded herself, one day he was going to have a girlfriend. One day he would fall in love. And, as his friend, she was going to have to be happy for him.
But that day wasn’t today, she told herself. Right here, right now, she had him to herself, and she was going to make the most of every second.
She smiled happily at him. “I’d love that, Clark.”
“Okay. After dinner, then. Before we have to head back.”
By unspoken consent, they carried on strolling across the bridge, enjoying the evening sunlight along with the San Franciscans who were also out for a walk on the city’s most famous landmark. Couples walked past hand in hand - some, Lois noticed, not made up of members of opposite genders, and she acknowledged that at least one thing she’d heard about San Francisco was true.
Glancing at Clark, walking in lazy strides beside her, she longed for the courage to reach out and take his hand. Just for the experience of walking hand in hand in what had to be one of the most romantic places in the country: the Golden Gate at close to sunset.
It would be nice. But still... It was wonderful to be there at all.
“Lois?” Clark, sounding tentative, interrupted her thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
He still sounded awkward, as if he expected her to reject his request.
“This sounds like something I’m not going to like,” she said, teasing. On impulse, she bumped her hip against his. “Spit it out, Clark. What’s the worst I can do? Tell you I won’t answer?”
“Well, you might not want to,” he said diffidently. “But... okay. Lois, do I look like Claude?”
Lois came to a sudden stop. What on earth had made Clark ask that? Why had the idea even occurred to him?
“Clark, what the heck gave you that idea?” she demanded, incredulous. “What made you even think of that waste of good oxygen?” She stared at him, noting the anxious expression on his face. Clearly, he had a good reason for his question, but she couldn’t imagine what it might be.
She saw him take a deep breath before answering. “I just wondered, Lois. I know it’s all past history now and I’m not trying to resurrect it - it’s just that I’d been wondering for a while if the reason you didn’t like me when I first joined the Planet is because I look like him, or I remind you of him in some other way.”
He thought that? But then, she reminded herself quickly, what else was he to think? To Clark, newly arrived in Metropolis, a nice guy used to being friendly to people and being treated with friendliness in return, her attitude had to have been an unpleasant shock.
Lois bit her lip, looking down at the asphalt beneath her feet. He deserved an explanation, but she wasn’t even sure what sort of explanation she could offer him. She wasn’t even sure that she entirely understood herself what drove her to be so...
“Hostile,” she said abruptly.
“Huh?” His puzzled tone made her look up to meet his gaze again.
“Hostile. I was hostile to you.”
“I guess,” he said softly. “I... kinda didn’t want to use that word.”
“That’s what it was, though,” she admitted. “Look, I’ll try to explain, but I’m not sure you’ll understand - or think that it’s very fair. I mean, I guess it’s not fair, but... well, it’s not easy to be in another person’s shoes.”
“You mean that you can explain, but I might not see it from your perspective?” Clark asked.
“I guess that’s what I’m trying to say, yeah.”
Clark gestured to the walkway in front of them, leading to the centre of the bridge. “Want to walk?”
She nodded. And, silently, as he fell into pace beside her, Clark looped his arm loosely around her shoulders briefly, giving her a one-armed hug.
The message was clear: he wasn’t judging her. He was still her friend, supportive and affectionate. He just wanted to understand. And, she thought, she owed him an explanation.
“You know the cliché about history repeating itself?”
He nodded. “Heard it once or twice.” There was humour in his voice.
“I’ve seen it happen,” she said, trying hard to resist slipping into bitterness. “Too many times.”
“Let me guess,” Clark offered. “Guys less talented than you coming in and grabbing all the plum assignments?”
He was quick, Lois thought. She hadn’t expected him to work it out so easily - unless, she thought with a sinking heart, he was being sarcastic. After all, it was one of the perennial complaints of feminism, that women usually had to work twice as hard as men to succeed. In her experience, that was true, too.
Then she looked at him, and realised that his question had been entirely sincere.
“Yeah. That was part of it. Then there was the Claude thing, too - I mean, using me, stealing my story. That taught me that I had to be very careful about who I trusted. But even then I didn’t write off everyone. I worked with a couple of guys in the year or so after Claude left. I tried, Clark. I really did. But they all seemed to want to prove that they were better than me, or they could get the big stories... I got fed up with them trying to make me do the grunt work while they went for the glory. In the end I just told Perry that I wouldn’t work with a full-time partner again. By that time I’d won my first Kerth and was nominated for a second, so he listened,” she concluded.
“That’s pretty lousy,” Clark agreed. “But -”
“But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you? Made you pay the bill for what those other guys did to me?” she cut in to say. “You’re right. But after a while it seemed like it was a case of being assertive - even nasty - or be walked all over. I
couldn’t take the risk of trusting some guy I didn’t know, just in case he might be different. Too many others weren’t. And, yeah, that just turned me into a horrible person. I know that. I... just couldn’t figure out how to be any other way and survive.”
“I can understand that,” Clark said softly. “And I wasn’t going to criticise. I was going to say that the worst of it is I hate the fact that they robbed you of your ability to trust.”
Lois stilled, and he halted beside her. She turned her head to look at him, barely knowing how to respond. How could he possibly understand so clearly? No-one else had - well, not that she’d tried to explain to many people. Lucy couldn’t understand why she was so mistrustful of men; she tried on a regular basis to persuade Lois that she really should give some guy or other ‘a chance’. And, while Perry had - mostly - given up trying to persuade Lois to accept a permanent partner, she’d known that his attitude was more of impatient resignation than real understanding.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t give you the chance you deserved,” she said abruptly, biting her lip. Knowing that he’d so easily understood why she’d behaved the way she had made her treatment of him all the more shameful.
“It’s in the past, Lois,” he said with a shrug, encouraging her to walk onwards. “We agreed that the night you saved me and my parents. I probably shouldn't have brought it up - I wasn’t trying to criticise you. It was just that I’d been wondering whether I reminded you of him in some way...”
Superficially, in a way, he had. But once she’d known Clark for more than a couple of days, she’d known that there was very little resemblance at all.
“You’re both good-looking,” she told him. “But it was always obvious that he knew it, and he traded on it. You’re not like that - I realised that after the first day or so. And when you work with someone, it’s a genuine partnership - Claude always had to be the glory-hunter. So, no, you’re not like him at all.”
His hand caught hers momentarily, before releasing it again - too quickly for Lois’s liking, and she felt the loss of his warmth immediately. “I’m glad,” he said. “Now, let’s see if we can make it to the other side before the sun sets, okay?”
**********
Back in her apartment later that night, Lois sat back on the sofa which Clark had declared to be an instrument of torture the last time he’d been over... which reminded her; she probably should go shopping for a new couch. He was right. These really were much more showpiece items of furniture than anything designed with their users’ comfort in mind. Maybe he’d be willing to go with her, if she went to the furniture malls at the weekend... after all, if Clark was going to keep spending time at her apartment, just as she was at his, then she wanted him to be comfortable.
She wanted him to be comfortable. At that thought, Lois shook her head in amusement. Since when had she ever put someone else’s comfort before anything she wanted? Least of all the comfort of a man?
If someone had told her just three weeks earlier that she’d be making changes to her lifestyle in order to please Clark Kent, she’d have thought they were insane.
But now... well, everything had changed.
He was her friend. And after that evening’s little trip to San Francisco, so was Superman. Clark seemed to be very relaxed and happy to be Superman around her, spinning in and out of the costume, letting her see him perform Super feats whether or not he was appropriately garbed in Spandex at the time. Metropolis’s Superhero was making it very plain - albeit privately - that he considered Lois Lane a close friend.
It might seem odd to separate Clark and Superman out like that - after all, they were the same person and so if Clark was her friend then obviously Superman was - but in a way Lois had been doing exactly that almost since she’d got Clark back after Trask had kidnapped him.
She wanted Clark as her friend. She’d been thoroughly ashamed at the way she’d treated him and the way she’d fawned over Superman at the same time - and so she’d made a special effort to focus on the
Clark side of him. It wasn’t that she ignored the fact that he was Superman so much that she consciously treated him as Clark.
So she deliberately made very few requests for him to do Super things for her. Okay, she’d been wowed at the way he’d fixed her microwave last week, but she hadn’t asked him to do it; she’d been complaining about having to get it fixed and he’d just gone and taken a look. She had asked him to heat up coffee for her a couple of times, but that was only after he’d done it once on seeing her take a sip of what had turned out to be cold coffee. He’d come over, winked at her and lowered his glasses slightly; seconds later, the liquid had been bubbling and steam had eddied upwards. “Next time, just ask,” he’d said, grinning, before wandering back to his desk.
Clearly, heating up her drinks was something he didn’t mind doing in the least. And so she’d presented him with her mug and an expectant look a few times since, and he’d obliged with a grin.
But still, she didn’t want him thinking that his super-powered side was the reason she liked him. And so there would be no suggestion that, since he could fly to the other side of the world in seconds, he might fetch them some exotic takeout for dinner; and definitely no hints that she’d like to go flying. She wanted Clark to have no doubts whatsoever in his mind that it was him, the ordinary guy - or as near-ordinary that someone as
extraordinary as Clark Kent could possibly be! - that she wanted as her friend.
Her friend. No more than that - even though she still thought that Clark was quite simply the most drop-dead gorgeous man she’d ever met. She’d instinctively thought that when she’d first noticed him, but she’d been too busy trying to get Perry to let her off that stupid mood piece so that she could concentrate on what she’d known - and she’d been right, too! - was a real front-page story.
And yet even then, and more so the next day, she’d known that Clark was attractive. But she’d had her fill of attractive men, especially those who used their good looks to get what they wanted from women. And so she’d told herself that she didn’t care how he looked.
Then she’d seen Superman, and all caution about reacting to attractive men had flown out of the window.
Superman was just so magnificent in every way. His good looks had been immediately obvious, and his amazing powers had sent her into awe mode instantly. But what had taken her beyond hero-worship had been Superman’s innate goodness. The way he helped anyone, regardless of who they were, how much - or little - money they had, how they had got into the situation they were in.
It was that, the decency and integrity she’d seen in the man under the suit, which had made her believe that she was in love with Superman; of that she was sure. But it was the way she’d treated Clark at the same time which now made her ashamed, made her doubt her own judgement once more.
She still cringed when she recalled what she’d said to the sketch artist in Clark’s hearing. She couldn’t have made it any more obvious if she’d taken out a full-page ad in the Planet. Or a billboard outside the building. Lois Lane had a Pulitzer-sized crush on Superman. And Clark Kent might as well be a woodlouse for all she cared.
With that memory, there was no way that she was going to let Clark realise that she was still attracted to him - as Clark as well as in the Suit. Or that she’d found herself dreaming about kissing him, or wondering what it would be like to be touched by him - the way a man would touch a woman he was in love with.
No; she’d missed her chance with Clark. She’d missed it at the moment she’d told him not to fall for her, that she didn’t have time for it.
Why should he ever believe her? How could she possibly convince him that she loved him for everything that he was, and not just because he occasionally dressed up in a Spandex suit and saved the world?
How could she even be sure herself that her feelings were all for the man Clark really was - the ordinary guy who worked with her in the newsroom, brought her coffee, teased her, wrote stories with her - and not for the smaller part of him which had some amazing abilities? Could she be sure that she found him just as wonderful when they were sitting in his apartment watching a movie as she did when he was flying her to places like San Francisco?
Well, she thought she was sure. Although she knew herself well enough to be aware that, if she hadn’t made that incredible discovery about Clark, she would still be treating him as something the cat had dragged in. She could tell herself that it was his kidnap, and believing that he was dead, which had made the difference, but would she really have gone searching for a mere Clark Kent?
No; it was Superman she had hunted high and low for.
Regardless of the fact that, over the past few weeks, she’d come to know Clark for the wonderful, special man he was, she’d made so many mistakes in the beginning that there was no way she could hope to make up for them completely. It was clear, too, from his out-of-the-blue question tonight that Clark hadn’t forgotten her behaviour, although he had forgiven her.
And so there was no way that she was going to embarrass him - or herself - now by making a play for him, or even hinting that she'd be open to something more than friendship. No; it was far better to play safe, be his friend and hang onto the only relationship she’d ever had which actually meant something.
The one relationship in her life that she cherished beyond anything.
***********
The next morning, Clark entered the newsroom bearing two carryout coffees from the Daily Java. On his way to Lois’s desk, he detoured via the watercooler, snagging a couple of doughnuts from the box. “Morning, partner,” he said cheerfully, placing Lois’s double-chocolate mocha on her desk along with a chocolate doughnut.
“Hey.” She smiled up at him. “Mocha?” she asked hopefully.
“Need you ask?”
“I’ll be putting on weight if I spend much more time with you,” she commented wryly, opening her takeout coffee cup and taking a sip.
Raising an eyebrow, Clark gave her a slow once-over. “I can’t see a problem,” he observed, giving her a teasing grin.
She actually blushed, to his amused surprise. “Yeah, well, give it a couple of weeks and you’ll see! It’s all right for you, Mr I-never-put-on-a-pound-because-I-have-a-super-metabolism!”
“Hey, any time you want a jogging partner, I’ll be there,” he offered.
“Don’t think I won’t take you up on that,” she warned with a grin as she reached for her coffee again.
Laughing, Clark took his own coffee and doughnut back to his desk. As he loaded the research files for the story he was currently working on, he couldn’t help thinking about his attractive partner, and the terrific time they’d had the previous evening. He really loved spending time with her, and it gave him so much pleasure to see her delight in new places and new experiences.
Their conversation had been good, too - at least for him, though he hoped that she hadn’t been upset by it. She knew - she had to - that the rocky early days of their working relationship were all ancient history as far as he was concerned. He didn’t hold it against her in the least. But he had wanted to understand.
He just wished that he could have five minutes with Claude, and with every other one of the men who’d damaged her confidence and her ability to trust.
But, since he couldn’t, then he was going to do his best to teach her to trust again. She had already made a good start in his case, and he was noticing changes in the way she behaved with other work colleagues.
He couldn’t wait to take Lois somewhere else; there were so many places in different parts of the world he would simply love to show her, places which were special to him but would be so much more so when he could share them with someone.
Someone special.
Lois. His best friend.
At last, he had someone in his life with whom he could really be himself. After so many years of feeling set apart, detached from other people, he wasn’t alone any more.
San Francisco with Lois had been great. Next time - well, there was Niagara, or the Amazon Basin, or Paris, or London, or Vienna, or Prague, or the Taj Mahal... In fact, if he remembered correctly, Lois had a birthday coming up. Smiling in anticipation, he mulled over a few options and started planning...
The sound of a telephone ringing interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced around to in search of the source, just in time to see Lois picking up her phone. He was about to turn his attention back to his work when his attention was abruptly caught.
“Mr L - oh, if you prefer it - Lex. This is a surprise.”
Lex Luthor. Clark felt his gut tighten.
He hated even the thought of that man showing an interest in Lois. He had no idea why Luthor had called her, but he was darned sure that it wasn’t just business. He’d seen the way Luthor had looked at Lois at the White Orchid Ball. And anyway, Luthor was known to be reclusive where the press was concerned. The man was happy to issue press releases or even give press conferences when he had something he wanted to hit the news, but otherwise he avoided journalists the way other people avoided dentists.
So why was he calling Lois?
Shamelessly eavesdropping now, Clark caught what Lois was saying.
“...interview? Yes, that would be great. Let me see...” She began to flick through her day-planner.
Luthor was offering her an interview? Yeah, right. As if that was that was his real purpose in contacting her!
Just about managing to restrain himself from listening in to Luthor’s side of the conversation, Clark picked up a pencil and started playing absently with it while he waited for Lois’s next response.
“Yes, that looks good... next Friday, five o’clock. Now, are there any topics you’re going to say are off-limits? ...Now, come on, you know I want to ask about the years before LexCorp. I have no intention of simply reproducing your press releases, Lex. I want to know what makes you tick!”
By Lois’s tone, Clark guessed that Luthor was flirting with her, and he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from doing something stupid, like marching over there and cutting off the call. And then he caught himself sharply.
What right did he have to object if another man found Lois attractive? What right had he to feel jealous if there was a possibility that she found him attractive too?
If only it wasn’t Luthor, he told himself bitterly.
Luthor. He was convinced that the man wasn’t the benevolent, respectable businessman he claimed to be. Those couple of encounters he’d had with the man as Superman gave him good reason to be suspicious. But he was well aware that he had too little to go on. He had no hard evidence, nothing he could give Lois to persuade her that the man was dirty.
But if there was a chance that she could end up dating Luthor, didn’t he have an obligation to find out the truth so that he could warn her?
He did. And he would. It wasn’t all dog-in-the-manger possessiveness, he told himself. It wasn’t a case of not wanting anyone else to have Lois, even if he couldn’t have her himself. He just didn’t want her to be in the position of dating someone who didn’t deserve her in every possible way - and, even worse, someone who was quite possibly a murderer.
It wasn’t until some time later that he realised - or perhaps admitted - that the nagging, churning sensation in his gut wasn’t only due to the fact that it was Lex Luthor who was coming on to Lois.
He would have felt possessive - no, jealous - no matter who it was.
That was crazy! he told himself. He had no right to feel possessive of Lois. No right to be jealous. She wasn’t his, after all. They weren’t involved with each other. They were friends, no more - and would be no more than that. They couldn’t be any more than that. He knew that it was impossible. There were so many reasons, chief of all being his fear - no, his absolute certainty - that he would hurt her if they became intimate. Maybe even kill her.
It didn’t even have to be intimacy. His experience with Lana had shown him that even a hug, even a kiss, could be enough to inflict hurt and possibly serious injury. Heck, he’d almost forgotten all the need for caution yesterday evening when they’d been walking on the bridge - he’d just slung his arm around her without even thinking. Just in time, he’d remembered to make his hold on her *very* gentle, keeping his arm hovering millimetres above her shoulder - and then letting her go before he could get too used to the sensation of having his arm around her.
As he’d reminded himself only the previous evening, he was a danger to her.
Heck, even taking her flying with him was dangerous for her, wasn’t it? Holding her tightly in his arms... but he’d reasoned that, since he flew with people frequently when he rescued them, he’d obviously worked out the most safe and effective way of holding them so that he didn’t cause them any injury. For all he knew, the motion of flying, the way the air cushioned him and his passengers as he flew, or even the fact that he had to concentrate on keeping them in the air, helped to protect them. All theories, and not very good ones at that - but still, flying at least seemed safe. So far, at any rate.
But he was still only too aware of the evidence that embracing a woman, kissing her, was too hazardous for him to contemplate. And that absolutely dictated that he could never be more than Lois’s friend.
So what right did he have to feel jealous at the thought of Lois dating another man?
No right at all. And no reason. He wasn’t in love with her, after all. Sure, he found her attractive. Yeah, he’d found himself enjoying holding her close to him - though not too close, of course - and wanting to kiss her. But she was an attractive woman, so that was only natural, wasn’t it?
He wasn’t really jealous, he reasoned with himself. It was just that Lois was the first person with whom he’d ever shared his secret, the only person other than his parents with whom he could be truly himself. That created a special bond between them; made them close in a way he could never be with anyone else. That was why he was so uncomfortable - unhappy - at the idea of her becoming involved with someone else.
After all, once Lois did get a boyfriend, she couldn’t be his best friend any more - not in the way she’d been over the past few weeks. Once she started seeing someone, getting serious about someone, he would lose her. And he was only just getting used to having her in his life.
It would happen, one of these days. So he needed to treat this experience as a warning: one day he would lose the closeness they had together. And if he acted like a jealous moron when it happened, he’d lose her altogether. If he wanted to keep her friendship, he would have to make sure that she never saw how he really felt about her dating another guy.
After all, he’d known for the past ten years that he was always going to be alone, hadn’t he? He’d been foolish to even imagine that anything had changed.
***********
...tbc
