Posting this for the rest of the February birthday girls: CC, Ines and (almost 
) Avia. Hope you all had great birtdays! Table of Contents
From Part 1:He was looking a lot better, Lois realised. Less tense, far less tortured. And she was better - he had to be aware of that. Any moment now, he’d make his excuses and leave - and she didn’t want him to go just yet, even though she had things to do herself. She didn’t want this interlude to end. Right now, it felt as if they were truly friends - the way she and Clark were friends. Or, truthfully, had once been friends. But the illusion of friendship would end, she was sure, the minute he flew out through her window.
She wanted to persuade him to stay just a little bit longer, to make this little oasis in time, in which Superman was her friend as well as her hero, last as long as she could.
Lois tightened her arm around Superman, deliberately staying close to him. “Tell me about the landslide,” she invited. “What happened? Was it bad?”
********
Now read on...That had been a close call, Clark thought. As it was, he’d let Lois see far more than he’d intended about his feelings for her.
Superman’s feelings for her, that was. Not Clark’s - she wasn’t interested in Clark’s feelings anyway.
He couldn’t love her as Superman, even if he wanted to.
He needed to get out of here. Now. Before he let his guard slip even further than he already had. Being with Lois at any time as Superman was risky, but tonight, given the state of his shattered, tormented emotions, was very dangerous.
She was safe. She was okay - making an excellent recovery from her ordeal, it seemed. So there was no need for him to stay any longer. She didn’t need him. Did she? She wasn’t crying any more - which was a good thing for his resolve, because if she’d still been in tears he could never have left her. She was okay now.
And as for him... so what if he was still shaken up and troubled by what he’d been through? He was used to it. It wasn’t a big deal, after all.
“Actually, I should go, Lois.” Deliberately ignoring her question, he shifted on the bed, beginning to take his arm away from around her neck.
“No - I mean, do you really have to?”
He sighed. “I should, Lois. You know it, too. I’ve been here longer than I should. That’s not a problem - I wanted to see that you were okay. But you’re fine now, I think, aren’t you?”
“Are you?” she countered.
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
“Do you have somewhere else you have to be?” Now she was Lois Lane, sharp, intelligent reporter, simply not accepting his vague excuse that he needed to be going.
“Well, I really should check with the police -” he began.
“Superman, that can wait, can’t it? I can ID those guys. If the cops don’t have them, I’ll go in and give descriptions tomorrow. I have to talk to them for my story anyway.”
There was another surprise: that Lois Lane, intrepid reporter to whom nothing was more important than the story, wasn’t already in the midst of writing it all up. But then, he knew that - like him - she’d been more shaken up by this than by anything else he could remember.
“Still...” he began, and made another attempt at moving. Though even that was half-hearted, he was aware.
“Do you have somewhere to go?” she asked, her voice soft.
Oh, that was his undoing. How could he possibly resist when she looked at him like that, brown eyes soft with compassion and friendship - she’d never looked at Superman like that before! - and spoke to him with such gentleness?
He wanted to stay and pour his heart out to her, to tell her the horrors he’d found when he’d arrived in central Mexico. Nothing he’d experienced so far, before or after he’d become Superman, had prepared him for that. The destruction of an entire town, people’s homes and livelihoods ripped away from them in a matter of minutes - that was bad enough. But the bodies had been far, far worse...
Dead human beings, adults and children, were everywhere. And then there’d been those who were buried alive - he’d dug out as many as he could but, even with his Superpowers, that hadn’t been enough. He’d had to be cautious, to go slowly, so that he didn’t risk killing those who were still alive.
He hadn’t been fast enough. He’d got there too late to save many of those trapped, and he hadn’t been able to work fast enough to save others. Just like he’d almost not been fast enough to save Lois.
He’d never forget the smell. Or the noise. Or the gut-wrenching, heartbreaking cries.
And the silence, most of all; the silence where a family home, or a gathering-place, was uncovered, to reveal... nothing. Just dead bodies, where once an entire family had lived and laughed and been happy.
And the sadness in people’s faces; the dawning misery as they’d realised that the great helper from America wasn’t going to be able to work miracles after all. That all he could do, other than giving them advance warning of further landslides, was help them dig - a little bit faster than they could, and with a bit more knowledge of where people lay buried, thanks to his hearing and vision powers.
What use was Superman if he couldn’t save lives? If all he could do was pick up the pieces after people had already died?
If, after all that, he’d been too late to save Lois too... he didn’t know what he would have done.
“Superman?” Lois had moved and was now sitting cross-legged on the bed next to him. She touched his arm lightly. “What is it?”
Suddenly, not even words would come. He leaned back against the headboard again, all energy drained away. And, as he tried to search for something - anything - to say to Lois in order to convince her that he was really okay and that he needed to leave, something inside him cracked and he lost the struggle to pretend.
He squeezed his eyes shut as tears trickled down his face.
********
Lois stared, appalled and worried, at Superman. He was
crying? And not like earlier, where his eyes had been suspiciously bright. These were real tears.
Superman was crying?
Somehow, she’d never thought of Superman as being vulnerable, of having the kind of deeper emotions most people experienced; he always seemed to be so much in control, both of himself and of everyone around him. Suddenly, he seemed less intimidating... less god-like. And much, much more human and in need of comfort.
She slid to the top of the bed, sitting next to him against the headboard, and wrapped her arms around him. Then, for a long while, she just held him as he dropped his head to her shoulder and sobbed wordlessly.
Eventually, he stirred. Raising his head, he muttered, “Sorry. I didn’t... I never meant... uh, I should -”
Go? Not a chance, Lois resolved. Not while he was still clearly upset. She didn’t release him, even when he tugged against her grasp; of course, he could easily free himself, but she saw it as something of a test. If he really wanted to leave, he’d be out of that door in less than a second.
He didn’t move.
“Superman,” she said softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He bit his lip, but didn’t reply.
“I think you should,” she urged. “What would you tell me, if I was the one who’d been crying?”
That got a slight smile and a raised eyebrow out of him. Okay, he did have a point. Not half an hour earlier she’d been the one in tears. “But I did,” she pointed out. “Or we did. I mean, you know why I was crying, and we talked about it.”
He shrugged slightly. “I guess...”
There was something incredibly familiar about that shrug, and about the refusal to admit completely that she was right. That nagged at Lois, but she couldn’t figure out just why it was important.
Anyway, it didn’t matter right at the moment. What did matter was the man in her arms.
“So talk,” she commanded. “Tell me about it. Let me help you, Superman.”
“You really don’t want to hear it, Lois,” he cautioned.
“The landslide?” she guessed. “Superman, I’m a reporter. I have to cover unpleasant stuff all the time. And, believe me, some of it was a heck of a lot worse before you came to town.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he told her dryly. He drew his knees up to his chest in an action which felt to Lois as if he was distancing himself slightly from her. But then he started to talk, and she was no longer capable of doing anything other than focusing on the horror of his memories.
He’d been right: it wasn’t pleasant. But what struck Lois most about what he was telling her was what he
didn’t say. About how helpless he must have felt in the face of so much disaster and human suffering. About how hard it had to have been to remain stoic, even hopeful and encouraging, in the midst of despair. And how lonely it must be to be him, to have to carry all of this horror inside himself, with no-one to talk to and nothing to help him grieve.
It was no wonder that her own near-death experience had upset him so much. He’d seen so many people die; the thought of losing yet another person, and this time someone he cared about, must have been the final straw. One burden too many for him to bear.
She felt honoured that he’d trusted her enough to confide in her. Though it made her wonder whether he had anyone else to talk to. Did he normally carry all this stuff alone? Did he have any way of letting off steam?
It was hardly surprising that he’d let down his guard with her over the past hour. Staying with her in the first place, telling her that she was special to him, hinting at even stronger feelings for her, wasn’t something Superman would ever do under normal circumstances.
And she’d pushed him for more, tried to make him spell it out for her, when all the time what he’d needed most was a friend.
Well, he had a friend now.
She wasn’t a psychologist or a counsellor, though. She had no experience in dealing with trauma victims. All she could do was go on her own gut instinct - which right now was telling her that what he needed least was sympathy.
“You think you didn’t do anything to help those poor people?” she challenged him.
He turned bleak eyes on her. “And you think differently?”
“Superman, how long will it take before the aid teams get there? How long before the digging equipment and the first-aid tents and the doctors and the soldiers get there?”
“The main teams, tomorrow. A few advance workers had arrived by the time I left.”
“So, if you hadn’t been there, helping them dig people out, working out where survivors were, flying the most seriously injured to the nearest hospitals, what would have happened?”
He was silent; one hand reached for the edge of his cape and began to pleat it.
“You did help them, Superman. But most of all, you gave them hope and a reason to believe that the outside world hadn’t forgotten them.” She reached for his free hand and held it, squeezed it. “You can’t save the whole world. You know that. But what you can do... it’s enough, Superman. You just ask anyone at that place today. Or any other major emergency where you helped out. You give us all hope.”
He met her gaze again. “You said that before, didn’t you?”
Yes, she had; she distinctly remembered it. But... she hadn’t said it to Superman, had she? That didn’t sound familiar. And yet she couldn’t remember who she had said it to. Maybe it had been in an article? And he’d read it?
Not that it mattered. If it helped him now, that was all that mattered.
“Yes, I did, and I meant it then. I mean it now too, Superman. What you do is amazing. You have to remember that!”
He smiled at last. “I’ll try.”
“You do that,” she urged, squeezing his hand again. He would leave now, she was sure. There was no way that he’d want to stay around having just cried on her shoulder. Men always hated showing any weakness, and surely Superman would be no different. This, too, would ensure that his presence here this evening, and their heart-to-heart, was guaranteed never to be repeated.
Well, she hadn’t expected it anyway.
“Lois.” He was sitting up, leaning towards her, and she smiled back at him, unwilling to let him see her reluctance to let him leave now. But his words weren’t what she’d expected.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “I think we’re even.”
“Even?”
“I saved your life... and you just saved me back again,” he told her. And then he leaned closer still and brushed his lips over hers in a sweet, affectionate kiss.
**********
He was just saying thanks. A brief, light kiss, and then he would go.
But he hadn’t reckoned on how it would feel to taste her lips once more.
Her gasp as his mouth met hers parted her lips, and the opportunity was too tempting to refuse. He let his tongue glide forward - or did it move of its own accord? - and suddenly they were
really kissing. He was tasting her, exploring her. She was sighing, moving closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. And he was pulling her nearer, seizing the opportunity to kiss her as he’d longed to ever since that day at the airport when he’d pretended to be affected by the pheromone.
Their kiss was dizzying, exciting, passionate, loving... he never wanted it to end.
But it had to end.
Against his lips, she murmured, “Oh, Superman.” And he remembered.
She wasn’t kissing Clark. She was kissing his alter ego, the disguise. And he’d vowed never to allow Lois to get this close to Superman. There was no way that he would take the pretence so far as to start a relationship with her as Superman.
And besides, she didn’t even like Clark at the moment... she was dating Lex Luthor.
He broke the kiss, dragging himself away from her. Breathing heavily, he faced her; she stared back at him, eyes wide and lips looking... kissed.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
She looked back at him, disappointment on her face - but also, he noticed to his surprise, understanding. “I know. Like you said earlier - you can’t take the risk of being close to someone.”
“Yeah.” He nodded, grateful for the excuse.
She was silent for a few moments. Clark, watching her, knew that he really needed to go. He’d stayed here far too long as it was.
He was about to get to his feet when she said, wistfully, “I can keep a secret, you know.”
Could she really? He wondered curiously whether, if he confessed his secret identity to her, she would keep that secret. The jury was out on that one, he suspected; what was more important, though, was how she would react. Not that that was an issue here anyway; it wasn’t as if he was contemplating telling her.
And that wasn’t what she was asking, anyway. She was obliquely hinting that they could have a relationship in secret.
He shook his head firmly. “No, Lois. It’s out of the question. It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he added quickly. “It just wouldn’t work. It’s not practical.” Before she could protest, he added, “Anyway, I thought you were already involved with... someone.”
To his surprise, she looked puzzled. “What makes you think that?”
“I heard you were dating someone,” he countered, an edge to his voice that he couldn’t quite help.
The surprise on her face was quite genuine, he realised. There were none of the signs of lying he was used to, especially from her: she wasn’t avoiding his gaze, and her heart-rate hadn’t speeded up. “There’s no-one... Oh, wait a minute,” she added, sounding irritated. “Have you been talking to Clark?”
“Uh...” He hesitated, but that was clearly enough for her.
“He’s obsessed with Lex Luthor. I’m just friendly with the guy, Superman, that’s all! And, okay, I’ve been out on a couple of dates with him, but there’s nothing to it. I’m not seeing him regularly or anything like that. Clark... oh, I don’t know what it is. He’s - maybe jealous or something. He never liked Lex. And it’s really wrecked things between us.”
Clark looked away briefly, his mouth tightening. Was she about to blame him for the breakdown in their friendship?
Her expression clouded. “I hate it, Superman! I was just thinking about it earlier - you know, before you came to save me? I... I mean, I didn’t want Clark around in the beginning and I was pretty horrible to him. But then I started actually
liking him. He... we... we became friends. And now this - and I really hate not being friends with him any more, Superman!”
“Do you know why he doesn’t like Lex Luthor, Lois?” Clark asked, feeling guilty about using his alter ego like this, but unable to stop himself.
She grimaced. “He claims Lex is dirty. I... well, I don’t know what to think. I don’t know if it’s just jealousy, or if there’s something more to it.”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Clark suggested, doubting that she would, but wanting to see her reaction.
She surprised him again. “I should. I know I should. It’s just that every time Lex is mentioned we end up fighting. And I don’t want to fight with him any more. I want us to be friends again, the way we were before. Clark’s very special to me, Superman. And I know I am - I
was - to him.” Ducking her head, she began to play with the edge of his cape. “And earlier... I thought I was never going to get the chance to tell him that I’m sorry. That I... care.”
He was touched to the core. She cared about him - far more than she’d ever let on. He - Clark - was very special to her. She wanted their closeness back. She
cared about him.
Words rushed to the tip of his tongue. He desperately wanted to tell her that he wanted that too; that he missed her and cared about her and wanted them to be as close again as they used to be. That he loved her.
But he stopped himself. He was here as Superman, not as Clark.
“Tell him, Lois,” he urged, just managing to keep any emotion out of his voice. “I’m sure that if you tell Clark exactly what you just told me, everything will be fine. I... I know he cares about you.”
She looked up at him again, biting her lip. “Just like you do. I guess sometimes I don’t appreciate how lucky I am to have both of you. I suppose it takes something like tonight to make me realise it.”
And to make him realise how devastated he’d be if he lost Lois, Clark reminded himself once more. His resolve to leave forgotten, he reached for her once more, tugging her into an embrace. And, as she wrapped her arms around him again, he felt her tears once more.
“Don’t cry, Lois,” he murmured, stroking her back, her upper arms. “It didn’t happen. You’re safe.”
Sinking back onto the bed, he held her in his arms, wordlessly offering her all the reassurance he could that she was safe. And that he cared about her. That he loved her, even if he could never reveal his feelings.
That he would always be there for her.
********
Lois yawned, blinking as she slowly returned to wakefulness. The light streaming through the window told her that it was morning. But she didn’t remember having gone to bed...
A glance downwards showed her that she was still dressed. Her clothes were crumpled, as if she’d slept in them - which she clearly had. She was even still wearing her shoes!
The previous evening’s events returned in a rush of memory suddenly: her almost-decapitation, Superman’s last-minute rescue and then their long conversation. An evening of confessions, actually.
Superman... where was he?
He’d left, presumably, she thought. She must have fallen asleep and he’d obviously left her to it knowing that she was fine.
And yet... The pillow next to her was indented. As if someone had slept on it.
He couldn’t have been there all night, could he?
And then she heard it. A voice, coming from somewhere else in the apartment. A familiar male voice.
She slid off the bed, and her shoes fell off as she did so. Following the sound of the voice, she headed out towards the living-room.
“...Yes, I’m still holding... Oh, thank you. Detective Farrell? Yes, this is Clark Kent, Lois Lane’s partner at the Daily Planet. I was just calling for an update on the slave traders Lois gave you the tip-off on last night...”
Clark was there? In her apartment? Very curious, Lois pushed open the door and went into the living-room.
A crumpled red cape met her gaze. Superman was holding the telephone, speaking into it in Clark’s voice, on reporter-business.
Clark? Wearing Superman’s costume?
And then the penny dropped. Clark wasn’t wearing Superman’s costume.
Superman was Clark.
She must have gasped. Clark turned and saw her. She saw his eyes widen, then he held up his hand. Two fingers. He’d be just two minutes. And his eyes sent her a message, pleading with her. Don’t say anything until I finish this call, she understood.
Clark was Superman.
Stunned, she backed away until she was leaning against the wall; then her knees gave way and she slid to the floor. Clark. Her partner. Her best friend - her once best friend.
He was Superman?
He’d pretended to her. Lied to her. Made a fool of her.
He’d saved her life. More times than she could remember. And the last time had been only last night. If it wasn’t for Clark, she would have been dead.
He’d stayed with her last night, knowing that she needed company. And comfort. He’d held her, reassured her, taken care of her.
He’d cried on her shoulder, devastated because he hadn’t been able to save people in Mexico.
Clark was Superman. Clark had spent most of the previous day battling against time and the elements to save lives after a landslide. Clark had saved the entire world from Nightfall. Clark had saved
her life, in more ways than one, when Barbara Trevino had wanted her dead.
It was no wonder that she’d thought Superman’s expressions had looked familiar a couple of times last night, she thought absently. Or that she couldn’t figure out when she’d told him that he gave people hope.
Seeing Superman in tears, seeing him doubt himself after the landslide, had humanised him, made him seem like any other man who had doubts and insecurities. That had been somewhat incongruous with her idea of the Superhero. And yet, knowing that he was Clark, it all made sense.
Clark was human. He had flaws; he had insecurities; he doubted himself and sometimes got things wrong. And, at the same time, he was the kindest, gentlest man she had ever met.
Yes, she could see Clark as Superman now. It all made sense. The congenital helper; the kind and gentle man; the passionate crusader against wrongdoing; the upright, moral, principled person.
A hand rested on her shoulder. “Lois? Are you okay?” A pause. “I never meant you to find out like that.”
She looked up at her partner; her hero. “Clark?”
He nodded. “Yes, it’s just me.”
Just him? She caught her breath. Was that really what he thought?
Just him?
“You could never be ‘just’ anyone,” she commented softly, giving him a wry smile. “It’s not possible. You kind of have a tendency to stand out in a crowd, apart from anything else.”
That made him smile slightly. “Only when I’m wearing this.” He gestured to the suit.
“Clark, you stand out in a crowd even when you’re not wearing the suit,” she argued, and knew that it was the truth.
She held her hand up towards him, and he grasped it, pulling her gently to her feet.
“You don’t seem mad,” he said cautiously.
“Give me time!” she told him. “It hasn’t fully sunk in yet.”
“Uh... okay,” he said warily. “So how much time have I got to get the heck out of Dodge?”
She held onto his hand and just looked at him for a long moment, remembering. Clark’s affectionate teasing. Superman’s care and concern for her. Clark saving her life and protecting her against Trevino and Mr Makeup. Superman holding her when she cried and reassuring her that she was safe. Clark hugging her and holding her when she needed it. Superman telling her that she was special to him.
Clark, being there all along for her: her friend, her confidant, her comforter, the man who cared about her.
More than cared, if she’d correctly read between the lines last night, and she knew that she had.
And it all fell into place. The reason why she’d been so upset to lose Clark’s friendship. The reason why she’d felt torn between him and Superman for so long. The reason why she was jealous if another woman so much as smiled at Clark. The reason why she could kiss Superman one minute and almost cry about her lost closeness with Clark the next.
She loved Clark. She loved Superman. She loved Clark-who-was-Superman.
She took a step closer to him, sliding her free hand up to his shoulder. “Clark?”
“Yes?” He still sounded wary, but there was what she thought was a hopeful look in his eyes.
“Superman said that he couldn’t have a relationship with me.”
He nodded. “I know. And I can’t.”
Lois shook her head. “That’s not true, Clark, is it?
Superman can’t have a relationship with me. But you’re Clark, aren’t you?”
Seeming surprised, he nodded again. “Yes. Superman’s... well, just a disguise.”
“I think he’s more than that,” Lois observed. “But that’s not important now. If you’re Clark, then you can have a relationship with me, can’t you?”
His eyes widened. “Well, yeah. I guess. If you want to, I mean.”
“Oh, I want to. Make that a definite!”
She closed the distance between their mouths, claiming her partner and her hero’s lips with a firm, demanding kiss, showing him exactly what he meant to her.
*********
She was kissing him.
Lois was kissing him, Clark, having told him that she wanted a relationship with him.
But... wait.
No, she wasn’t. She was kissing Superman. He was still wearing the costume, for god’s sake! And she’d only said anything about a relationship with Clark because she knew that he was Superman.
He tore his mouth from hers, pushing her away.
“What’s this all about, Lois?” he demanded.
She stared at him, looking hurt.
He deliberately ignored her expression. “Come on, Lois! You never gave me the time of day! I asked you out once, and you blew me off. You never wanted anything more than friendship from me, and more recently you haven’t even wanted that.”
“Clark, I know I was stupid!” she exclaimed. “I told you that last night! But things changed... I’ve hated the way things have been between us lately!”
That was true. She had told him that. But still... “Would you ever have said you wanted a relationship with Clark if he was just...”
Taking a further step back from her, he started spinning, not stopping until he was able to stand in front of her in the old T-shirt and jeans he’d been wearing when he’d heard about the landslide.
“...me?”
She was gaping at him, obviously put off balance by his spin manoeuvre. But then she drew herself up. Arms akimbo, she addressed him.
“Have you any idea how Clark-like you were last night?”
“Huh?”
“Last night. I’m amazed that I didn’t see it then. You said so many things -
did so many things - that were so like Clark. And, you know, I’ve thought for a long time that I was in love with Superman. Last night, I
really fell in love with him. It wasn’t the powers, Clark. It wasn’t even the fact that you saved my life all over again. It was
you. The man underneath the suit. The guy who’s really just human after all. The guy who feels pain and isn’t afraid to show it. The guy who actually lets me see that he’s vulnerable - who cries in my arms. The guy who needs someone to hold him and comfort him. And the guy who takes the time to listen and be a friend. That’s all you, Clark. And I fell in love with you last night.”
He stared back at her. Could he believe her?
And yet last night he’d seen a different side of Lois, too. Compassionate, caring, wise; she’d understood far more than he’d ever imagined about what he faced as Superman. She’d been there for him in a way no-one ever had before.
And she’d said things about her feelings for him as Clark, long before she’d had any inkling that she might actually be
with Clark. She’d said, too, that she’d thought she wouldn’t get the chance to tell him how she felt... because she’d thought she was going to die.
He’d almost lost her last night. If he had lost her...
His life would never have been the same again. As long as he lived, he would have had a giant, Lois-sized hole in his life and in his heart.
He’d been given a second chance. And so had she.
They’d been given a second chance.
Was he going to waste it simply because he couldn’t be entirely sure that it was Clark rather than Superman whom she really wanted? When he
was both Superman and Clark anyway?
“You’re sure, Lois?” he asked her abruptly. “You want to be Clark Kent’s girlfriend? Not Superman’s?”
“I want to be
your girlfriend,” she said, taking a step towards him again. “You’re you, whatever clothes you’re wearing at the time, aren’t you? I saw that last night.”
He was, wasn’t he? No matter how much he tried to pretend that Superman was a one-dimensional character, a semi-detached extension of himself, it simply wasn’t true. Superman was an inseparable part of him. Lois had seen that, while he’d been too busy insisting that she could only want one side of him.
“If that’s what you want, you’ve got it,” he told her huskily. He took the final step needed to bring her to him, and cupped her face between his palms. “Lois, there’s something I refused to tell you last night.”
“Yes?” Her eyes were wide with anticipation.
“I love you.”
“Oh, Clark!” She caressed his face with one hand. “I love you too. I don’t know why I was so stupid for so long...”
“I think we both were.”
“And we were almost too late,” she reminded him, her voice shaky.
“But we’ve got a second chance. Let’s not waste this one,” he urged, and then brought his lips to hers.
He hadn’t lost her. In fact, he’d won her.
~ The End ~
