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It was a typical Saturday in the lives of Lois, Clark and eight-
month-old Junior. Lois was at her weekly DOTJOD Anonymous
meeting and Clark and Junior were taking a walk in the park when
it happened. Superman was needed and Clark didn't have the time
to drop Junior off anywhere. There was no time. So he hugged
Junior tight, ducked behind a try and spun into the Suit. When
he came out from behind the tree, he was alone.'

He quickly flew into action and saved the flock of geese that
were about to meet their doom over the Metropolis Airport. When
he spun back into his civilian clothes, Junior was gone. He spun
several times, but no Junior. Finally, he decided to get Lois.

Clark wished he could get lost in his Superman activities - the
way he normally did. But he also realized that it was dangerous
for him to answer any cries for help in his current state. He
knew he wasn't in control at the moment. The stress of the past
few weeks - ever since Lois had accepted Luthor's proposal -
combined with the lack of sleep he'd had as he'd searched for
the evidence against Luthor had definitely taken its toll on
him. And now, tonight, having to admit defeat, had pushed him
frighteningly close to the edge of sanity. His usual solution
for these times was a trip to see Lois, but now... Lois was the
problem.

Lois was marrying Lex Luthor at eleven o'clock tomorrow morning
and there was nothing Clark could do to stop it. Actually, that
wasn't exactly true. There was one thing he could do. He could
go to her as Superman. The problem was that there was no future
in that. But at this point, he was almost beyond caring. It
would be hard enough living without Lois if he knew she would
be happy with someone else. But Clark knew Luthor. He knew it
was only a matter of time before Luthor hurt Lois. How could he
stand by and allow that to happen?

It was past midnight before Clark made a decision. He could no
longer tell if it was the right thing to do, but he couldn't
seem to do otherwise. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going
to say, and even less sure that this would work, but if he
didn't at least try, how could he live with himself?

Then she was pulled back and the man he only vaguely knew was
shaking him and saying stridently. "Out of the way, Dr Ducos.
You're always far too considerate of his feelings. He's only a
good-for- nothing layabout. Wake up, specimen! It's time for
another treatment. Your final treatment."

The man in the bed didn't like the sound of that, yet as the
male doctor gripped his shoulders, he noticed the doctor wink --
and he didn't think it was an involuntary action. No, he did it
again! Specimen, for that was the only name he knew was his,
wasn't quite sure he understood what a wink meant, but somewhere
underneath his perplexity, he did feel reassured.

Dr Ducos interjected herself between him and the other doctor.
"There's no need for name calling," she threw over her shoulder.
"Let's try to make this as easy as possible."

Good! The man allowed himself to relax further as woman took
over again. He was familiar with this procedure, yet his feeling
of comfort fled as she beckoned Teo forward and he noticed the
syringe on the tray that Teo held. His eyes fixated on the
needle. Surely after all this time he'd be more used to having
injections, but there was something slightly different about
this particular hypodermic needle -- it glowed faintly green.

But some time ago all of that started to change. And the unblinking glare of the spotlight had begun to show some cracks in Superman's persona. There was a seam in his cape, one reporter had noted once, that hadn't been there before. He must carry something, then. A phone, a pager, a watch, maybe?

It had been a pager. That had started with her first pregnancy. STAR labs had invented it - the signal could reach him anywhere. And Martha had sewn a nearly invisible pocket for it. Nearly invisible.

As far as observations went, it wasn't momentous. It was just the small start, the drip. That one day was a steady trickle, that the next day was a gentle flow, that some day would be a river... Nothing too far out of bounds or too explosive. Just one thing that followed the next thing, which served to make Superman less mysterious, more knowable.

You'll have to forgive me for not knowing this sooner, but I was fooled. You see, falling in love with you wasn't like I expected falling in love to be. I always thought that it would be a noisy affair, introduced by music and fireworks, flashing lights and blaring sirens. Instead, I learned that falling in love is quiet and gentle. It's warm and enveloping, a pair of deep brown eyes pulling you in so softly that before you are even aware, it's wrapped you in a tight hug. Falling in love isn't falling at all. It's floating. It's flying. And only after you've been lifted so high that the Earth is but a distant blue memory do you realize how easy it was.

And now, here she stood this morning, literally on the doorstep
of discovery. Was Clark the 'Guardian Angel'? She had to
know. Reaching out cautiously, she put her hand on the
doorknob, but again drew it back. For some reason, she felt she
should knock first. She knocked quickly, the loud sound echoing
off the hallway walls. "Clark?" She could still hear his
breathing.

"Clark? Wake up. We need to talk." She knocked on the door
again, longer and harder than last time. Still no change in his
breathing. "CLARK! Wake up!" She reached down and turned the
knob and shoved the door open.

"Clark Kent, I want to--to--" Lois stood motionless. She
couldn't believe what she was seeing. There, a good three feet
above the bed, floated a sleeping Clark Kent. He was bare from
the waist up, and he was wearing dark colored pants of some
kind. He had mud smudges on his face and a thin layer of grime
over his chest and arms. He was sound asleep, rising and
falling with each breath.

"Oh my God." Lois walked quietly around him, peering under him
as if searching for something that might be holding him in the
air. She started to reach out and touch him to see if he was
real, but pulled her hand back. What if it woke him up?

"Proof. I need proof," she mumbled to herself as she backed from
the room and then ran to her bedroom. She couldn't find her purse
there, so she raced back down the hallway, casting a quick glance
in Clark's room as she went by. He was still asleep and
floating. She had needed proof that Clark was the 'Angel,' and
boy did she have it now!

"So, Lois, what do you want for Christmas?" Lucy asked, throwing
a blanket onto the couch, getting ready to settle in for the
night.

Lois was on her laptop, deeply engrossed in... something...
probably a boring something.

"A new car," Lois said, distractedly, not looking up.

"Actually, I was thinking a suggestion maybe under twenty-
thousand dollars," Lucy said. "To be honest, under ten dollars
would be ideal," she added to herself.

"You have to get him out!" Lois gasped, disregarding his
inquiry. She pulled back and grasped his arms, looking
beseechingly up into his face. "They'll torture him--you have to
save--" she choked. "--him! I know I used to think I was in love
with you, but I've realized that it's him that I love. He's been
through so much, and he's borne it so well, pulling himself
together to make something of his life, overcoming his awful,
awful background, and now he's in there and he'll never be able
to take it ... what they'll do to him ... you have to get him
out!" She sobbed.

"Who?" said Superman grimly, paler than Lois had ever seen him.

"Clark! They have him! You have to get him out!"

"Get *who* out??"

"Clark! You have to get him out!"

"Lois," he whispered, drawing her away from the prostrate
captives. "You can't call me--"

But even her reckless action on that occasion paled in
comparison to what she'd done today! What had she been
thinking?? She had voluntarily moved into the apartment of the
strongest man in the world--a man who she knew had problems with
his temper. A man--no, an *alien*--who had nothing to fear from
any penalty society could impose on him. She had no defenses
against him--even a gun would offer no protection against him,
and as for her knife--! Laughable!

She thought of calling her bodyguard service, but--what would
she say to them: "Hi, I've just moved in with a man who scares
me to death and I want you to protect me from him."

Right.

Lois shuddered. How could she have put herself into this
situation? Was there any excuse for it?

Of course there was ... there had to be!

She tried desperately to find justification for her actions,
hoping to take comfort from finding a reason for having believed
she would be safe.

Well ... Clark had been acting so ... *civilized* lately that
maybe she could be excused for thinking it was safe ...

"The man's an unsophisticated rube with a schoolboy crush
on you. Be kind, and don't encourage him."

"People have a tendency to underestimate Clark. I've been
guilty of it myself. Can I get you anything else, Lex?
More coffee?"

Lex leaned across the table and took her hand. "There is
one more thing I'd like..."

All at once, the light flickered and went out, leaving them in total darkness. Clark heard something rustle, and then a faint click. He shielded his eyes against the sudden light. Lini was holding up his cigarette lighter, and after his eyes had recovered enough for him to look directly at it, Clark could see that the flame was dancing unsteadily. The breeze drifting through here was definitely stronger.

Suddenly, Lois gave an exclamation of exasperation. He stopped. "What's the matter?"

"I'm an idiot!" she said. "Put me down a second, Superman."

This had to be a momentous occasion, he thought. You didn't hear Lois Lane call herself an idiot more than once in a lifetime.

Dear Lois,
Since you are reading this, then I know that we have met.
I was just going to write you and let you know that I would
be leaving and wouldn't be coming back for a long time.
But somehow it seemed too impersonal. You always told me
that if you ran into me in the street, we would never
become friends. I decided to put that to the test.

If we have become friends again tonight, then you will now
be in possession of my coat and this letter. I knew you
would never agree to meet me, even though you may never
hear from me again. So I decided to take on a `secret
identity' so you wouldn't be self-conscious. Now you know
that we could be friends no matter what. It also proves to
you that you don't have to stand behind those barriers
you've erected for yourself.

Don't be afraid to spread your wings and soar. You can do
anything you set your mind to, I can feel it from the words
you have written to me these past few years.

This will be my last letter to you for quite some time. I
have volunteered for some duty which will isolate me from
normal society for a long while. Take care of yourself,
and don't be afraid to show other people the girl I know
I'll see tonight.

As Always,
Your Friend,

Clark Jerome Kent

"Guess what?"

He took an instinctive step backwards, though he knew that was
ridiculous.

<No reason to be alarmed. No point jumping to conclusions. Only a
question.>

"What?" He shot a quick glance behind her, at what she had been
working on. Checking for designs to take over the world, a blue
print for running the city, the flow chart outlining the fall of
her enemies. He saw only...contracts, surveys...largely innocent
looking.

< A story, then. See?>

"I bought the farm today," she stated in a rush, waving the
papers he'd been discreetly deciphering under his nose. "Bought
the whole thing- lock, stock, and barrel. Or...well...more like
derelict sheds, abandoned barn, and...uh...horseshoes."

She was waiting for his response. Her body language sending him
frantic signals to understand, to be happy, enthused...

And he wanted to. He really did, but...

"I give up," he said with an apologetic shrug. "Pretend I just
flew in from a typhoon and I have no idea what you're talking
about."

"I bought your farm, Clark. The Kent place. In Smallville."

"You...bought it? As in...bought it?"

"Yeah." In face of his bewildered silence, her smile dimmed
somewhat, along with some of her energy, her confidence.

He took the papers from her hand and pulled her to sit on the
sofa.

"I...don't understand," he faltered. "Why, Lois?"

"Look, Clark, I'm honestly not trying to make you mad or anything. I'm just trying to figure out what those government goons were after and why they came to the Daily Planet looking for you and me."

"Like I said, I have no clue." Clark shifted on the bench, unable to pull his gaze away from Lois's face.

Lois pursed her lips and looked thoughtfully at him. Several minutes passed before she said, "Got it!"

"Got what?" he asked nervously. The glint in her eyes made him feel decidedly nervous.

She smiled sweetly at him. "I'll tell you what, Clark. Since I'm such a nice person, I'll let you tell me."

He spread his hands in a gesture of confusion. "Lois, I meant it when I said I have no idea what you are talking about."

"All right, Farmboy. Don't say that I didn't give you the chance to tell me yourself."

"Tell you what?" he persisted.

Rolling her eyes again, she replied, "Tell me why those agents wanted to know what we know about Superman."

Over the sound of the fire spreading through what was left
of Mayson's car, he heard sirens approaching.

Lois pulled back from him and fiercely swiped at the tears
on her face. She reached out and pulled his jacket shut.
He barely caught what she said over the roar of the flames
and the wail of the fire engine. "We don't want anyone
else to see that." And she turned to greet the officials
that were arriving on the scene.