Table of Contents


From Part 2:



“Forget it, Lois. It doesn’t matter.” His tone was clipped. “I have to go now. So, unless you want to be stranded here...”

She wasn’t happy about that. The frustrated look she gave him made that clear. Lois Lane never liked it when she couldn’t get all the answers.

But, while she’d have argued with Clark, there wasn’t a lot she could say to Superman. She sighed and said, “If you have to.” Her tone made it clear that she wasn’t satisfied. She had a lot more to say.

Well, she could say it to herself. In the privacy of her empty apartment.

“Come on.” He stepped closer to her, then bent and lifted her into his arms.

This would be the final time he’d fly with her, other than if he had to rescue her. From now on, Superman was definitely staying well away from Lois Lane.


*********

Now read on...


Being taken home, like an unwanted parcel, was the very last thing she wanted. But what choice did she have? Superman had spoken, and his word was final.

He made clear exactly how final it was, too, by conducting the journey in complete silence. He didn’t even look at her. And less than ten minutes after they’d left Cortina he was setting her down in her living-room. She hadn’t even regained her balance fully before she heard the whoosh of his departure.

She collapsed onto the sofa. Had they really only been away less than two hours? It seemed as if half a lifetime had passed in that time.

She’d never known Superman like this before. Anger had permeated everything he’d done, everything he’d said tonight.

Anger which seemed to be directed at her. Specifically at her.

But why? What had she done?

And what right had he to be angry with her? To speak to her as he had? To accuse her of...

Once they’d talked, after Pakistan, he’d been insulting. Offensive. Almost as if he’d intended, wanted, to hurt her. He’d chosen words meant to wound.

Shallow.

Blind.

Uncaring.

Stupid.

Couldn’t see what was right under her nose.

Anger flared again. How dared he?

He hadn’t even let her defend herself, not properly; how could she defend herself when she hadn’t even understood what he was accusing her of?

It was all so unlike Superman, too. She’d never seen him like that before. Oh, she’d seen him angry, but only with criminals whose actions had endangered the lives of others. Never with people he... liked.

Never with her.

Clark, now... Clark could lose his temper, and the results weren’t pretty when he did. Though that was very rare. Clark was one of the most placid, even-tempered, patient people she knew. Yet even his temper had limits, and when he was pushed beyond those limits...

Though, even then, his anger was usually justified.

This, tonight, with Superman... It was so out of character. And so unexpected.

It all seemed to revolve around her claim that she knew him. And somehow Clark was in the mix too. Superman seemed... annoyed about what she’d done to Clark. No, not annoyed... angry, yes, but there’d been hurt in there too. Hadn’t there? In that diatribe he’d given her about how she’d treated Clark, he’d definitely sounded hurt.

Clark was a friend of his. She knew that. And obviously Clark had told his buddy Superman all about his private conversation with her earlier. That hurt. She’d never have told anyone about it. Yet Clark had gone off and blabbed...

Yes, he’d been hurt. She’d seen that for herself; the look on his face when she’d told him that she only loved him as a friend had sent a dart stabbing through her. She’d been as kind as she knew how, but causing him pain had been... unavoidable.

So he’d gone off and told Superman how she’d hurt him.

Though... asking him to find Superman for her had definitely been tactless. She shouldn’t have done that. Maybe it wasn’t so surprising that the two of them had bitched about her, after all.

Okay, so maybe that explained Superman’s anger. He was defending his friend. What still made no sense at all was the other thing he’d said...

You said you’d still love me even if I were an ordinary man... You were lying. Because I am an ordinary man, and you don’t.

An ordinary man? What the heck had he meant by that?

Was he trying to say that he wasn’t special or anything? That despite all the abilities he had he was just an ordinary guy, and he hated being treated as some sort of go-

No. No, that wasn’t what he’d meant at all.

There was no point kidding herself. He was right. She really didn’t know Superman one bit. Because what he’d told her was momentous, and she’d never had a clue.

He had another life. One where he didn’t wear Spandex or save the world. A life as an... ordinary man.

And she knew him in that life.

And she didn’t love him.


*********

The apartment seemed empty tonight. And bleak.

Considering that there was hardly ever more than just him there, that didn’t really make sense.

And yet... he noticed the lack of someone else there. Someone who would never be there again.

It was for the best. As long as he could remember that.

Tonight had been a disaster, from start to finish. He should never have gone over there. He should have ignored the summons, instead of thinking that he could go, tell her what he thought of her and then leave again.

Nothing had worked out as he’d planned. She’d taken Pakistan... well, not precisely in her stride, but much better than he’d expected. It had shaken her, but hadn’t scared her off. In fact, she’d actually seemed to understand. Once again, she’d shown him that there was a purpose to what he did.

And then he’d just lost all reason, all sense, all sanity. He’d had a very narrow escape. It could so easily have been so much worse.

He walked across to the window and stood gazing out into the night sky. Metropolis: the city that never slept. The city he’d fallen in love with from the moment he’d arrived. The city he’d made his home, and had never intended to leave.

Now... now, there seemed few reasons to stay.

He had no job. The Daily Planet was dead, with no hope of resurrection as long as Luthor owned it. The people he’d worked with, become friends with, were scattered to the four winds.

And Lois was... lost. To him, anyway. After tonight, he couldn’t see her again. Not as Clark or as Superman.

The Lois he’d seen today wasn’t a Lois he wanted to know, anyway. She wasn’t the Lois he’d come to know over the past year. Wasn’t the Lois he’d fallen in love with.

That Lois wasn’t shallow. Wasn’t cruel. She’d cared about him. She’d been his friend. Now... Now, she was different. Brittle, distant, not the woman he’d known and come to love. Luthor’s influence.

It didn’t matter, anyway. She wasn’t part of his life any more.

All he had to do now was decide what his life was.

And where to live it.

After all -

The door. A knock. Loud and insistent.

It was after midnight! Who - ?

Stupid question. There was only one person it could be.

To answer or not to answer? It was late. He could just pretend to be in bed. Asleep. The apartment was in darkness, after all. He hadn’t bothered to put any lights on when he’d got home after flying his patrol. She’d give up and go home soon enough if he didn’t answer.

Though... this was Lois... He wouldn’t put it past her to break in. It wouldn’t be the first time.

There was no point in avoiding it. He’d have to confront her at some point; she’d make sure of it. It might as well be now, and then he could get it over with. A quick exchange - not even a conversation - and he’d have her on her way within minutes.

He strode to the door and pulled it open.

“Hi, Clark.” She started moving forward immediately, taking her welcome for granted. As always. Not for Lois hovering on the doorstep, waiting to be invited in.

She was still wearing his sweatshirt. It felt... wrong that she was wearing it. Intimate, somehow, when he’d already decided to cut all contact. When she’d already severed what they’d had between them by rejecting him.

He should ask for it back. Except... she probably wasn’t wearing anything underneath it...

No. Not going there.

“Lois.” He looked pointedly at his watch. “It’s very late...”

“Not too late. I hope, anyway.” She lifted her gaze to his face. She seemed... serious. Agitated in some way, impatient, and also maybe a bit worried. What was going on?

“Well, I was going to bed.” He wouldn’t give her an opening. She could say what she’d come to say, if she wanted, but she’d have to make it brief. He’d had more than enough of heart-to-hearts with Lois Lane for one lifetime.

“This is important, Clark.” Now, she was twisting her fingers, playing with her watch-strap. “We didn’t finish our conversation from earlier.”

What? “It felt pretty finished to me, Lois. You told me you didn’t love me and asked me to find Superman for you. What more did you want to say?”

“Not that conversation.” And now her brown eyes were gazing directly into his.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what other conversation you mean.”

“The one in Italy. The one I only just understood.”


*********

His shock was visible. He reeled backwards a little, and his face blanched.

He’d really thought she couldn’t have worked it out? God, he really did think she was stupid. He’d practically spelt it out for her, given her the letters one by one. Okay, it had taken her far, far longer to put it together than it should have. But then, who on earth would ever imagine that the guy they worked with daily - used to work with - and their best friend was really Superman?

It was one hell of a leap of logic.

But it had all come together with that final penny dropping. If Superman had another identity - a life as an ordinary man - and she didn’t love him in that guise, then he had to be someone she knew.

And, really, there was only one person it could’ve been.

Once she’d mentally rearranged Superman and come up with Clark, too, so much else made perfect sense. His anger over her rejection of Clark. His fury and disbelief that she knew him and that she’d love him even if he were an ordinary man.

Clark sighed suddenly. “I guess there’s no point saying I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“None at all.” She studied him. It was so obvious that he didn’t want her here - but then, she’d expected that. His anger, his sudden, desperate need to get rid of her, his abrupt disappearance from her apartment, had all made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want to be anywhere near her.

And, despite her own anger at the things he’d accused her of, she could understand it.

Well, some of the things. After all, some of them were true.

“I know you didn’t want to talk any more. But I can’t just leave it... the way we did.” She grimaced. He really wasn’t being very welcoming at all. He was still standing at the top of the steps, just inside his front door. She’d gone down a couple of steps when she’d first arrived, only to hesitate when he hadn’t followed her.

“Look, Lois...” He dug his hands deep into his pockets. “If you knew I didn’t want to talk, then why did you come?”

God. This was bad. She’d really destroyed any feelings he had for her, hadn’t she? He hated her. Didn’t want to be anywhere near her.

In the face of his coldness, his bitterness... the way he’d just closed himself off from her... she quailed. Almost gave up and went home. After all, she deserved it. She’d treated him appallingly and, although he’d been nasty in return, it had been almost in reflex. Anger talking. Anger justified by the way she’d treated him. And so out of character, too - which told her, all the more, how upset he’d been.

But she couldn’t give up. This was too important. Clark was too important. And, even if he could never bring himself to be her friend again, she couldn’t bear to have him hate her.

Plus, once he’d had a chance to calm down, to think about things, he’d realise that she knew the truth - and he’d worry. Even if he wouldn’t let her do anything else tonight, at least she could assure him that his secret was safe.

“I had to come, Clark. I couldn’t leave it... the way we did.”

“There’s nothing more to say, Lois.” He leaned against the wall, looking weary. “We said it all back there. It’s over. Go home. Please.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. Not...” But his expression was closed off. She’d really made him hate her tonight. What could she do in the face of such hostility, such bitterness, from the man who’d once been her best friend? He didn’t want her here. Didn’t want to talk to her. The fact that she wanted to talk to him... well, did she really have any right to override his wishes like that?

Probably not. She’d done enough, after all. For tonight, anyway. Maybe he’d be willing to listen tomorrow. Or in a few days’ time. Clark rarely stayed angry for long. He’d let her talk to him in a day or two - unless she’d really managed to turn every feeling he’d ever had for her into hate, of course. Then... well, she didn’t know what would happen then.

“All right. If you insist. But there’s just a couple of things I have to say. If you still want me to go after... then I will.”

His sigh accepted the inevitability of her intent. “Go on, then.” Get on with it. Don’t waste any more of his time; what he wasn’t saying came across louder than words.

“Right. The first thing is... I’m not going to marry Lex. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

“And that concerns me how?” He sounded bored, completely uninterested. But she’d seen the flicker of relief on his face.

“You told me he’s dirty. I know I never listened before - and I didn’t even want to listen tonight, and I should have. Well, I’m listening now. If you tell me he is, then I believe you.” She shrugged faintly. “Anyway, I don’t love him. Never did.”

“So why were you even thinking of it?” Emotion from him, at last; his tone was actually incredulous. And he was looking at her, instead of at some point on the wall beyond her.

She met his gaze. “I wasn’t, not really. It was just... oh, it doesn’t matter now.” It didn’t. It would be a confused explanation, one she wasn’t even sure she understood herself, and he didn’t want her here. He certainly didn’t want to hear this.

“It matters.” The tone was curt. But the words... weren’t. But now he was looking at the wall again.

She couldn’t look at him as she told him this. It was too... oh, stupid, teenage-romance stuff. Not the sort of thing a mature, intelligent investigative reporter would do - but then, she hadn’t been very intelligent lately. As he’d told her only too bluntly tonight.

Hands wrapped in the hem of the sweatshirt she was wearing - his sweatshirt - she stared at the floor. Saw the knots in the wood, the lines of the grain, without really taking it all in. “I... He proposed, Clark, and it was like something out of a fairy-tale. He’d taken me to Paris. In his private plane. I... have you ever been swept off your feet?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “Stupid question. When you can fly - I mean, who could sweep you off your feet?”

“You’d be surprised, Lois.” The words were muttered; had she even heard him correctly? But his whole posture didn’t invite questions; positively repelled them, in fact.

“I... my parents’ marriage was a disaster-zone. I think you knew that, right? I guess I’ve always fantasised about the fairy-tale. You know, handsome prince sweeping me off my feet and me living happily ever after with him. Not that there are many princes around, really. I mean, all the guys I met had... flaws. You know? I couldn’t trust them. They betrayed me. They... just weren’t princes. And I guess that’s why I... well, why I fell for Superman. He didn’t have flaws. He was...” She swallowed, now embarrassed. Wanting to fall through the floor. “...perfect.”

Silence. Now she’d really done it, hadn’t she? Made her feelings for Superman sound like the silliest of teenage crushes instead of... Instead of the love she’d professed. The love she still felt, even with this new knowledge. The love that had grown, spread and matured, and finally encompassed the whole of the man. That had joined up with the love she’d already felt, and denied, for the other half of him. The half she’d rejected, because loving him was too impossible - too dangerous - to contemplate.

“I’m not perfect, Lois.” Again, his voice was so quiet that she barely heard him. Finally, she dared to look at him. He was watching her now, not the wall, and his eyes were sad.

Well, she was already digging her own grave; she might as well finish it. And he seemed to be in something more of a receptive mood now. “I set Superman on a pedestal, yes. I just shut my mind to the possibility that there was any more to him than what you let me see... and that was stupid of me. Blind, too. You were right there. But whatever - whoever - Superman really is, he’s - you are - amazing. Not just the things you do, but what makes you do them. No, you’re not perfect. That’s one lesson I learned tonight. Nobody is. Not even Superman. And definitely not me.”

He exhaled loudly. “You were telling me why you even considered Luthor’s proposal.” Again, he was curt, abrupt. She was getting too personal, obviously. Her relationship with him, her feelings for him, were out of bounds now: that was the message. She’d forfeited her right to have feelings for him, obviously.

That wasn’t fair. He’d made mistakes too. But it wasn’t an argument for right now.

Lex. Well... “He proposed, Clark. And... everything in my life was changing, all the constants I thought would always be there... they were just sliding away from me and I couldn’t hold onto them. The Planet. Perry. Even you. All we did was argue... I wasn’t sure where I was going. What was happening to all of us. And Lex offered me... stability. An anchor. Something to trust in. I... it wasn’t what I wanted, but maybe it was something I could live with. So I didn’t say no. Not then.”

“Not while you still thought Superman might...” The biting anger was back, and suddenly her mind flashed back to that moment in her apartment. Begging, pleading with Superman to love her, and after she’d rejected him only hours earlier... If she could only undo that. Yet she hadn’t known - couldn’t have known!

Then Clark sighed. “This is pointless. Lois, you now know why I couldn’t believe you. Let’s leave it at that. Go home.” He didn’t sound angry now; just very, very weary.

She had to accept his wishes. Even if there was so much more she needed to say - even if there was so much he didn’t understand. Like how unfair it was of him to expect her to have known stuff she couldn’t possibly have known.

“I’ll go.” She reached for the doorknob. “But there’s one more thing... It’s important,” she added as he made an impatient gesture. “You have to know... Your secret’s safe with me. I’ll never tell anyone. I’ll take it to the grave.”

Then she opened the door and stepped through. Said a silent goodbye to the best friendship she’d ever had... to the man she loved more than she’d ever loved anyone in her life before.

It was over. And it was - mostly - her own fault.


*********

...to be concluded - I hope! - in Part 4.


Just a fly-by! *waves*