Interesting segment, CC. It answers some questions but raises more.
She had her own secret hopes, as well. The fantasy she would never speak aloud. Maybe you would call it finding true love. Not a hearts and flowers sort of love, but a real love, with someone who knew her and supported her. Would never leave her, never judge her and find her wanting.
That didn’t make her unique; everyone wished for that. It was human nature.
But what if... she had gotten what she wished for? Everything she had ever wished for?
I loved this passage. If Lois got everything she wished for, then that meant she had to be that kind of person, too, and I think she knows that she isn't ready for that kind of responsibility. At this point in her life, she couldn't pull it off. In fact, she's so far from being able to provide that kind of love and support in return that she probably can't even imagine herself doing it. Scary stuff.
“I... I... do that in my sleep, sometimes,” Clark was stammering, obviously misreading her silence. “I know it looks strange. I didn’t mean to... to... well... make you uncomfortable.”
His eyes were everywhere but on her.
Everyone else commented on the tenderness Lois showed in response, but I wanted to point how scared Clark is. In stories where the hero hides behind a fake identity, the internal conflict usually deals with his belief that no one would love him if they knew everything about him. This is such a beautiful example of that. Clark is convinced on a deep level that no one besides his parents would accept him if they knew how weird he really is. It's one of the joys of the series to see Lois teach him that she will accept him no matter what--and vice versa.
At her nod, he pulled her into his arms, or he didn’t have to pull, not really. At his first gentle tug, she went to him. Into his warmth, his solidness, his goodness. The one thing that made sense, that soothed her, the eye in the storm.
Someone mentioned how quickly Lois was warming up to Clark, but I think she's still seeing him--at least in part--with those Superman-dazzled eyes, and we saw her flip head-over-heels for him immediately. This part especially reminded me of that first flight with him when he took her back to the Planet. It also recalled echoes of "Don't Tug on Superman's Cape": "Something about you always made sense to me."
"You have to be smarter than the stove, Superman."
“And we’re back to that,” the man returned dryly. “And again I ask you, how much cooking experience do you have in the current century?”
What were they doing here? Silas wondered for the tenth time in the last ten minutes. Besides the obvious, which was, apparently, making dinner. And that was puzzling enough on its own.
“...can use my vision, but it won’t taste as good.”
“Use your...? Oh! Cool! Do it. I want to watch.”
I didn't even blink, though, as some have, over Silas not being more curious -- as has been mentioned, he lives in a world where there isn't ever anything *to* investigate so there is no reason for him to be suspicious.
I guess this is another thing that is my problem. I'm not an investigator or private detective, and I live in a little town that doesn't have a lot of crime, but I am endlessly curious. I want to know what and who and when and where and how and especially why. Because of that, I can't imagine why Silas isn't wondering about these two, particularly Lorraine's friend, whom she calls Superman, who talks about "the current century," and who mentions heat vision. Silas knows all about super powers. C'mon, wouldn't it at least occur to him to wonder if this guy is a super-powered Lane-Kent cousin he hasn't met? That doesn't take an extraordinary degree of curiosity.
Then again, I can think of at least two reasons why he doesn't think that (even though they really don't satisfy me): first, like Pam and Kathy, I was astonished to discover that Silas was only 20. As I lay in bed thinking about that revelation last night, I remembered that you had introduced him by saying he had set his college schooling aside to run the museum for a couple of years, but for some reason, that didn't get rid of the picture of someone older (mid-twenties) that I'd gotten in my head. But his youth could explain his total lack of interest in anything outside his immediate concerns.
He could hire them. Offer them a job. Maybe they were hard up and new in town. Possibly from a far off place, one of the few that didn’t adopt Utopian ideals? He’d heard there might be some of those...
If that was the case, then maybe they just didn’t realize there were programs in place to take care of people. To offer jobs and placements and food. In a sharing community no one had to go without. They just needed to learn how to give and take.
Yes, Silas nodded feeling better. That was it. They didn’t know how things worked. And they needed a little help.
And the second reason is that Silas was just being his usual Clarkish self, more concerned with helping the strangers than in finding out what was going on with them. And yes, my use of "Clarkish self" was deliberate after this:
And helping Lorraine would be...
He skipped over the thought ‘his pleasure,’ but it would be something he would be really glad to do. And with her amazing resemblance to Lois Lane, he could put her to work, and maybe get to know her a little better.
Spend more time downstairs and less in his office...
Take her home to meet his parents...
My first thought was that we were looking at one of Clark's later incarnations. Who else would tumble so completely and instantly for Lois Lane? So that's my final reason for not telling you that Silas is a pea-brain for not wondering what is going on. If he's Clark, meeting Lois has knocked him for such a loop that he's lucky to be able to keep any other thoughts in his head.
Now, if it turns out that he isn't this era's Clark, well...
What time are you posting the next section today?
