Well, I’ve finally gotten everything straightened out. 
Thanks everyone for your patience and continued interest. This part is a bit shorter (I believe) than the others, but don’t worry, part six *is* on the way. 
It’d been a few days since Clark had last visited the Kents. His first time seeing them alone a few weeks ago, he’d been a little worried about going, despite Lois’ reassurances, but they’d welcomed him with open arms. And since then, they’d insisted he come to dinner at least once a week. That had warmed his heart like nothing else. He really felt loved. They made sure he knew he was loved for who *he* was, not just in place of their absent son. Being with them wasn’t quite the same as having his parents, but he’d found that it was a *really* good substitute. Now, back at work, he couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off his face. But that was okay, he was supposed to be happy in love and engaged to a beautiful woman.
He stared over at the woman in question. For the last few weeks, he’d been digging around and talking to Clark’s sources. He’d found something! Mindy Church, a seemingly vacuous blonde, was becoming a little more active in the underground community. Clark had read over his counterpart’s notes on the subject and was appalled, but not too surprised to find that he’d suspected the grieving widow to be party to a number of crimes. Not the least of which was trying to kill Clark. That fact had obviously not been published, but it was good that to know what he was dealing with.
So, after putting some feelers out, he’d found that Mindy Church may be trying to start up this Intergang now that it seemed Superman wasn’t coming back. Mindy Church, it seemed, was quite a pro at covering her tracks. This was going to require a bit of digging. Real investigative work! And who knew, maybe even a little bit of surreptitious super help. He smiled to himself. There were definitely a few perks to this secret identity thing.
“Clark.”
Her voice cut into his thoughts from across the way. He watched as she rose and headed towards him.
“Clark, what are you smiling about? You look like you’re going to burst.”
He wanted to tell her. In fact, he wanted her help on this one. He wanted it to be Lane and Kent, a real partnership. And the only one he could realistically expect from her. But he hadn’t organized his research yet. He didn’t want to look like some green reporter in the eyes of the great Lois Lane.
“Well, are you going to tell me?”
Apparently his smile had been contagious because she was smiling too. And she looked beautiful.
“Yeah, let’s take a conference room though, this could be big.”
***
Clark watched her with uncertainty as he told her what he knew. As he concluded his story, the smile that came over Lois’ face was indescribable. The way her eyes danced caused his heart to do a little flip at the sight.
"Clark! This is great! Just what we need, a hot story to sink our teeth into. And to think, Clark and I had given up on Mindy Church! We thought she’d…"
At the mention of *his* name, the one he’d never be, his heart dropped a little altitude and he stopped hearing her voice. But the fact that he had discovered something that *he* hadn’t found made him feel a little smug. And why shouldn’t it? Just because he didn’t have the perfect life that this other Clark did, didn’t mean that he wasn’t as intelligent. He wasn’t particularly comfortable with his resentment towards his counterpart, but he couldn’t help it. He was jealous. Plain and simple. This Clark had things he would never have. Thirty long years of happy memories with his parents. He still *had* his parents. He had a secret identity so that his life hadn’t turned into a three-ring circus.
And he had Lois.
So he resented this man. The man that, had they met, he probably would have liked to know. They could have been friends. Brothers even. Aside from the New Kryptonians he’d just learned of (and still wasn’t certain if they existed in his universe), Clark had always been alone in his uniqueness. No one else knew the freedom of flying under your own power. No one else knew the loneliness of knowing you were the last of your kind. So alien. So alone. Wouldn’t it have been nice to sit down and talk with his counterpart? Had their powers developed the same? Had Clark felt the sheer joy and freedom when he’d discovered he could fly? Had he felt alone and alienated when he’d discovered just how different he’d been from his friends? Had he decided to live his life trying to be as normal as possible? Had his parents had the same accident? Had *he* been fast enough to save them?
Yeah, Clark decided it would’ve been nice to share the joys of their uniqueness and the agony of their alienness. But he was pretty sure that would never happen. Besides, it was easier to begrudge someone you knew you’d never meet. And if by chance they did meet, if Clark came back before H.G. Wells? Would he be able to set aside his feelings and connect with him? He was sure that Clark would have his own reservations when he learned of the role he’d been playing. Clark wouldn’t reproach his counterpart for those feelings at all. He imagined he’d feel the same way.
Even without the confusion that would arise if his counterpart returned to find him here, Clark was struggling with his feelings. And he felt that *she* was the source of all this malaise. Lois. The one they shared, but not really.
She could never share her heart with him. Not when Clark had taken it with him to New Krypton. He tortured himself daily with this, trying to live in the moment and pretend that she was his, only to feel guilty and hopeless when he remembered that she’d never feel that way about him. That whenever he made it back, *if* he made it back to his own universe, that his Lois wouldn’t be there. This Lois would have her Clark again – that’s how it worked in this universe – and he’d be alone again. Back to the same old routine, but with a whole new heartache to endure. Right now, he was simply getting a taste of just how good he could never have it.
***
He watched her as she studied the research he’d gathered so far on Mindy Church. They were at Clark’s apartment. She’d said it would be more comfortable and he’d agreed. She looked so determined, so focused. She was excited about this new lead. He smiled to himself. He was responsible for that. This was his story lead. Now it was theirs. Partners.
He imagined what it was like between *him* and her. This was probably how their partnership went, all day at work together, and late nights at one or the other’s – mostly Clark’s – apartment. Had they worked this well together from the beginning? No, Lois had said they’d fought a lot in the early days. But Clark had been patient with her, earning her trust and respect. And earning a place in her heart as well.
Had it been love at first sight for Clark too? He knew he really shouldn’t call it that, but that’s what it felt like, and he had to have a name for what tortured him. Had Clark felt alone and desperate when Lois hadn’t returned his feelings right away? Well, even if he had, *he* hadn’t had to live with the knowledge that she could *never* be his. *That* Clark had never known the pain and despair of knowing he couldn’t have her. He’d never felt that heartache of knowing that someone he loved was in love with someone else. In comparison, it’d been easy for *him*. He’d probably been able to look to the future and see hope. Must have been nice to have that luxury, knowing that all he had to do was bide his time until she realized that she loved him too. Clark could bide all the time in the world - in any universe - and never have that. Why did his future have to look so miserable? And why did he have to be here, leagues away from ordinary, with the exact double of the woman whom he could never have?
"Clark?" She touched his arm.
No pretending. He couldn’t pretend. He couldn’t pretend that this was a loving caress. Unfortunately, he also couldn’t pretend that there wasn’t a little spark of electricity when she touched him. He couldn’t pretend that there was no chemistry between them. He tensed and shut his eyes. No. No. No.
"Clark? Are you okay? Are you hearing a cry for help?"
Good excuse. He’d go with that one. "Yeah…uh…but the police are on their way now."
"Good." She smiled awkwardly. "I’m sorry you couldn’t go."
"It’s okay." The look she was giving him was full of concern, sympathy, and a little bit of something else. Something that he desperately wanted to explore even though his conscience was telling him otherwise. "I’m used to it." Yeah, used to it. All those emotions warring within him. Unfortunately, his desire was starting to overpower his integrity.
***
Something tickled at the back of her mind, she could always tell when Clark was lying and it seemed like he was lying now. But she wasn’t sure what he’d have to hide from her. She shook the feeling and was overwhelmed by the one that took its place when she looked at Clark. Desire. Working with him like this brought back memories of the times she used to come over and stay late into the night, working with Clark on a story…or not working. She looked back at Clark. He was still staring at her. Oh, God, this was far too easy to pretend that he was her Clark. He had the same body, the same eyes, the same look of intensity when he was staring at her. Like he wanted to kiss her.
Maybe it *was* Clark and this had all just been a terrible nightmare. She searched his eyes for clues and found only Clark’s need, his love for her. Maybe this was a dream. Of course, that was it! She’d had plenty of dreams of Clark lately. Erotic dreams. All these sensations running through her, they felt too brilliant to be real. And besides, Clark had been nothing but a gentleman. He’d never be leaning towards her, his lips parting. She closed the distance between them and sighed into his mouth. Oh yeah, this was definitely a dream. And one she was going to enjoy.
She moved closer to him, leaning into his strong frame as he rediscovered her lips. A moan escaped his lips and she devoured it, delving her tongue into his mouth. Her arms snaked around his neck and his hands came up to cup her face. She couldn’t get enough of him. He was home! Clark was home. And right now he was doing the most wonderful things to her. The sensations searing through her were different this time. Better, more intense. After so long without him, it was like coming home again.
She pushed him to lie down on the couch and straddled his hips. She lowered herself to capture his lips again. Needing to feel closer, needing to touch him, she unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands ran along his smooth hard muscles and he groaned. She smiled against his lips and kissed her way to his earlobe.
"Oh God, Lois."
"Oh, Clark! I’m so glad you’re home."
His hands stopped abruptly where they’d been caressing her back. Something was wrong. They’d never stopped in her dreams. This wasn’t a… Before the thought could finish in her head, she found herself sitting on the couch alone, bereft from the loss of both her dream and the warmth of his body.
"Oh my God, Lois. I…please forgive me. I’m so sorry…I thought…I wasn’t thinking…"
She looked up at him, still stunned. He was pacing and running his hands through his hair. Somehow he’d lost his glasses and his shirt was hanging open, revealing a very familiar hard, sculpted chest. At that moment, he’d never looked more like Clark. "I…" she swallowed hard, "I think I should go."
"Lois, I’m so sorry. Please believe…I didn’t mean for this to happen."
"I…uh…I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow."
Lois barely remembered to grab her purse as she rushed for the door. She had to get out of here. Slamming the door securely behind her, she finally breathed. The cold night air hit her, erasing the last of the heat she’d felt moments ago. Oh, God. What had she done?
***
He watched the door slam shut. His heart was still racing. Oh, God. What had he done? She was practically a married woman. He’d almost thought this was another one of his dreams. But that was no excuse. He needed to be more disciplined. Where was his self-restraint? How could he have let this happen? She’d probably never talk to him again. How could she ever trust him now?
He’d betrayed her trust. And over the past few weeks, he’d learned that with Lois Lane, trust was not something she gave easily. Aside from his delusions that he might have been brought here to fill Clark’s void permanently, Clark had truly come to see Lois as a friend. Someone he could talk to about everything and anything, with the exception of his feelings for her. She understood him like no one else ever had, not even his parents. True, his parents hadn’t gotten the chance to know the complex and hopeless man he’d become, but even still, he wasn’t sure that they would have understood him like she did.
Lois knew everything about him, his past, his present, and the dismal future that awaited him back home. She empathized with him. She’d known his pain, when he’d recounted the tragic night of his parents’ death and the helplessness he’d felt. When he’d mourned the loss of her counterpart and divulged the horrors he’d seen when he’d looked for her, she understood. *Her* soulmate was gone as well. She’d seen some of the hardships when she’d been in the Congo herself. And while she hadn’t experienced the worst of what he’d witnessed, she’d often comforted her Clark after catastrophic disasters and rescues gone wrong. They both had the same feeling of apprehension and fear that their futures were destined to be bleak. They shared so much, yet they were so far apart.
And now, after what he’d done, they were even further apart.
***
When Lois got home, she had the urge to write in her journal. But she couldn’t. Not if she planned on letting Clark read it someday. He couldn’t know about this. It would kill him. If he ever came home alive. Lois sat on her bed and brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. She buried her head in her hands. Oh, God. How had she let that happen?
She tried to feel guilty, immoral for what she’d done to Clark. *Her* Clark. While she did feel guilty, she couldn’t convince herself that what she’d done or felt was wrong. She could still feel him against her, his lips overwhelming her with his passion. Her mind told her it’d been wrong. Very wrong. But her body kept trying to convince her that it was only right. Her body didn’t know the difference, that the man it wanted was *not* her fiancé.
She’d never missed having sex before. She’d never craved it like she did now. True, her hormones were out of whack because of her pregnancy and probably contributing greatly to the problem, but it wasn’t just sex that she was craving. It was that connection, that melding together of two souls. The feeling that she’d ever only felt and handful of times. With Clark.
Blaming herself wasn’t really fair. Anyone would be confused in this situation, she guessed. Though she couldn’t help but wonder what this connection she felt with Clark was about. Was it just because she was a Lois and he was a Clark. Was that all that was needed for a cosmic match? Did it matter that he wasn’t *hers*? Had Clark ever really been hers to begin with? Maybe souls were shared between universes. The other Lois and who knew how many others including herself were really just one soul, mated with all the Clark Kents in existence. Was that why she felt so connected to this Clark? Or was she just comforted by the fact that he looked and acted so much like her own. She stared over at her nightstand at a picture of her and Clark. The faces were blurry and distorted. She whimpered as the tears rolled down her cheeks.
Had H.G. Wells known? Was he playing with the world like one cosmic jigsaw puzzle, finding missing pieces in different universes so he could have his precious picture of Utopia? She didn’t think he’d be that cruel, but now she didn’t know anymore. She didn’t know anything. What if Wells never came back? What if Clark was never destined to come back and Wells had just been righting two wrongs? Her heart ached unbearably. Curling up under the covers, she tried in vain to drive away the cold that had leached into her soul.
***
tbc…
