This is yet another of my "just finished marking exams, etc., and wrote the start of a story as an expression of relief" pieces. And then I saw the challenge and couldn't resist posting it... 
I may actually finish
this one eventually (there is this thing called Imbalance
that I have to get out of the way first... 
), but don't ask me when. The title may seem a little obscure, but I was thinking about what happens after
this bit, and I'm not just talking about Lois' reaction...! Anyway, enjoy!*****
Do I Know You?"Faster than a speeding bullet" was the phrase they always used. Clark didn't know who had first come up with that description of his "super-speed", but he didn't like it. Okay, he could move faster than a bullet, even a high-velocity one, but there were a lot of ifs and buts attached to doing that; for a start, he had to know that the bullet had been, or was about to be, fired. In the former case, the sound of the shot was often the first warning that he had and, since bullets were supersonic, that could mean that he was too late even before he started!
Which was the case right now -- or would be, as soon as the rest of the world caught up with his super-fast perceptions of what had just happened. Until then, his mind, at least, was operating at unequalled speed as he tried to think what to do next -- if there was some way in which he could avoid losing almost everything he held dear and being condemned to spend the rest of his life as a cardboard cut-out in a spandex suit.
Lois could be thought of as the cause of the trouble -- as usual? -- but only if he was prepared to ignore his own part in this... farce. After all, he'd let himself be persuaded -- as usual -- to come to Georgie Hairdo's casino, and he'd leapt to her defence -- as usual -- when Dillinger had pawed her, so he was at least as much to blame as she when a trigger-happy Clyde Barrow shot him at point-blank range --
not as usual. He just wished he could ask her for help in finding a way in which Clark Kent did not have to die -- in the eyes of everyone except his parents, that is.
Just to make matters worse, Capone and his entire gang were right there in front of him, just waiting to be rounded up, and he had to pretend that he'd been shot and killed... unless he could come up with some kind of plausible explanation -- and excuses like the Cheese-of-the-Month Club were
not going to cut it this time! If only Lois hadn't wandered off to find her winnings... if only Capone hadn't chosen that exact moment to "announce" his take-over of Georgie's operation... if only Dillinger had kept his grimy paws to himself and Barrow hadn't been a murderous idiot... if none of that had happened, or if it had happened in a slightly different way, all he'd have had to do is dodge Lois, duck out and change, and Superman could wrap up this entire mess in seconds, if not sooner!
Wait a minute... or nanosecond, in this case... That could be it! It was just off-the-wall enough to work and, even though there were bound to be repercussions, dealing with them
had to be better than losing his life and friends here in Metropolis -- and, indeed, everywhere else. Not to mention Lois...
Lois. Now,
she was going to be the really big "repercussion" if he pulled this off. He might be able to fool Capone's gang and the casino crowd, none of whom knew Clark Kent other than as a name on a by-line, if that, but Lois would have to know the truth. She knew perfectly well who she'd come here with, and she wouldn't be fooled by any cover story. And, now that he thought about it, he'd need her co-operation if this was to work; her supporting his story was going to be vital if he was to carry off this deception.
Well, okay, she'd have to know. That was hardly a difficult decision to make; he'd always wanted to tell her, but hadn't -- yet -- for a number of reasons. They'd started to become closer lately, and he'd begun to wonder if and when he should finally reveal himself to her... and now, he had no choice. Well, he could live with that, and his parents wouldn't mind -- his mom would be delighted! He'd just have to hope that she wouldn't be so angry that she'd refuse to back up his story...
and tell him that she never wanted to see him -- either him -- ever again!
He knew he could trust her, provided she didn't get so mad that she wouldn't listen or blew his secret out of sheer rage, so there was only one thing he could do, and that was to take the gamble -- appropriate, considering where he--
they were. There was no real alternative that he could see; either he told Lois the truth, or Clark Kent was dead -- and what good was his secret then?
With that decided, he let time speed up around him -- or slowed himself down, depending on whose clock you were using -- until he was back in synch with the rest of the world. Only then did he notice the horrified look that Lois was giving him. He'd never seen anything like the expression on her face; she was as beautiful as ever, but she looked as though her entire world had just come crashing down around her, and the anguish and pain in her eyes tore at his heart, his very being.
In that instant, Clark knew that he was doing the right thing; he just hoped that Lois would agree with him eventually.
She came towards him in a desperate lunge, grabbing at him frantically, trying to keep him upright at the same time as she ran her hands over him, feeling for what she must think was a terrible wound that surely must be mortal. Under other circumstances, he'd have enjoyed it, but he couldn't while she was so upset and close to panic because of his supposed injuries. No, he had to reassure her first -- but he couldn't help but feel a little warmed by her concern for him.
He reached out to her and held her arms, letting her feel his strength and vitality. Her eyes were blurred with tears, so he wasn't sure if she got the message, so he whispered, in a voice that no-one else could possibly hear, but which
she could, as clearly as if he'd spoken out loud to her, "Lois, I'm okay. I'll explain it all later, but for now, trust me -- please, partner?"
Her eyes went wide and she began to blink the tears out of them. Clark hated to "abandon" her just then, but he had work to do... and a life to save -- his own. So he released her and moved slightly to one side; then, to the astonishment of everyone nearby, not least Capone and his gang -- and Lois, who watched him with huge, unbelieving and yet joyous eyes -- he stood tall and straight... and took off his glasses.
"You know," he said ruefully, looking down at his powder-burnt shirt and tie as he put the glasses in a pocket and smoothed back his hair, "Clark is really going to hate me. I mean, this was a brand new shirt and a tie his mother gave him..."
The room was almost completely silent now, and everyone in it, with the exception of Clark, seemed frozen, as though they couldn't work out what to do, how to react now that the sound and fury of the last few seconds had been so ineffective.
"...and this trigger-happy
idiot..." Clark went on, reaching out almost absently to grab Barrow's gun and crush it. "...has ruined them
both!" As he spat out the last word, he slammed a fist into the gunman's face, sending him flying backwards to crash into a wall and sink to the ground, completely unconscious.
The other gang members shook off their temporary paralysis at that and started to go for their weapons, but had barely begun to move when Clark stunned them a second time by wrenching open the ruined shirt to reveal that famous shield. Lois, unable to look away from this seeming miracle, saw that, too, and her eyes got even larger, if that were possible. Then he spun in place and Clark Kent disappeared, to be replaced by the incredible figure of Superman!
The gang half-froze in stunned incomprehension at the display of super-speed, and that was all the Man of Steel needed. The imposing form became a purplish blur and, in less time than it takes to tell, Capone, Dillinger, Bonnie Parker and the rest of the gang were disarmed, rounded up and bound with a variety of ropes and cables that Georgie had apparently kept out back for maintenance uses -- or, possibly, for more sinister purposes. Not that that mattered, because right now they were employed to immobilise the invaders who had brought bloodshed to a "peaceful" evening's gambling -- and who had almost (
only almost, Superman hoped) destroyed Clark Kent's life.
Capone and Parker glowered at their captor and the watching casino patrons, but said nothing after their first attempt to bluster, intimidate and bribe their way out of their predicament was met with a forbidding glare, a raised eyebrow and a silent but unmistakable message to have a look at their fellow gangsters. Barrow and Dillinger were silent and slumped against their bonds for a very good reason -- they were out cold -- and the subtext was clear:
Shut up or be
shut up! There was more to it than just that, at least as far as Dillinger was concerned, but Superman wasn't going to give the mobsters any ideas; he'd taught the man a little lesson about keeping his hands to himself, and that was that.
Parker was quicker on the uptake, or perhaps she simply realised that there was no way they were going to get away this time, and resigned herself to captivity -- and to spending her remaining time before the cops arrived enjoying the sight of the guy in the tights rather than wasting it in a futile attempt to escape. Capone, by contrast, looked as though he couldn't believe that this was happening, but he had no more idea of how to deal with the Man of Steel than did his underlings, so he remained silent, sullen and disbelieving.
The rest of the crowd surrounding the small tableau of hero and captured villains began to realise that the show was over... and also that maybe they didn't want to be found in a casino of dubious legality -- or to be interviewed, and especially not to have their names taken -- by the cops or the press, or, for that matter, Superman. And where
he was, the others were sure to be soon, and they were probably on their way already... A slow, but inexorable movement of bodies towards the exit began, widening the empty space around the man in the cape and the bound crooks -- with one exception.
Superman turned away from the "parcel of rogues" he'd just tied up (though his super-senses remained on the alert in case any of them tried something) to face the blank stare of his partner. Lois just looked at him, and he felt a flash of concern because, behind her instinctive reporter's poker face, she looked utterly dumbfounded; more than that, she looked as though she had no idea what to do, what to think, what to feel... about
anything. Perhaps only he could have told that from looking at her, but he could tell: for once in her life, Lois Lane was at a complete loss.
Oh, boy, he thought,
This is not
good. He'd expected something like this, but not to such an extent. And he needed her... well, he
always needed her; that was like saying he needed to breathe. Right now, though, he needed her for something specific -- to back up his story; and to do that convincingly, she needed to be acting like her usual self rather than the flabbergasted woman that was staring at him.
Okay, first things first, he thought.
Let's get Capone and co. put away... then I-- we
(I hope) can deal with this... identity crisis!"Lois..." he said gently but firmly, "May I use your cellphone?"
It took her a moment or two to comprehend what he was saying, but it got through to her consciousness eventually, as became evident when she sort of...
twitched, and then quickly rummaged through her purse and silently passed him the phone.
"Thank you," he said softly before punching in a familiar number -- Metropolis Police Headquarters; specifically, the direct line to a certain detective's desk.
*****
And so it begins... 
Phil
