The Fact of the Matter, part 2 /2
After wallowing her way to San Francisco, Lois Lane teetered off what, in her expert opinion, was a very lovely plane. A tad under the influence of what she suspected was cheap California red - her lamentable experience with Lex Luthor had at least made her more discerning on that topic - she trailed across the tarmac to the airport. The plan was to get her stuff, buy a newspaper, and then decide what to do next.
Hopefully.
She stood for a moment, letting the ocean air dance around her, then lifted her head and giggled as a sudden gust of wind whipped her long dark hair across her cheek. She did not move, inhaling deeply, gasping at the fresh air, letting it tease her soul.
Maybe here in San Francisco, she could do better. Not make mistakes, not screw up, not do dumb things.
Maybe here she could forget about Clark Kent. Their shared laughter in those magical moments when their souls connected and for a moment no one else existed in the newsroom or anywhere else for that matter. Forget about the depths in his dark eyes and the enticing hardness of his chest beneath her hand as she touched him. She had touched him a lot, she realized now, and she flushed.
No wonder he'd thought that by telling her he loved her, he could forestall her acceptance of Lex's proposal. But had he thought so little of her that he figured she could be dissuaded by an emotional trick rather than solid fact? Still, at that point, he'd already warned her about Luthor and she'd tuned him out. Of course, if he'd offered her one tiny piece of 'take it to the bank' evidence she would've taken him more seriously.
Wouldn't she?
Forget him. She could do that. Would have to do that. She took a deep breath, trying to fight the hollowness in her heart.
Forget Superman, too. How could she have been so silly to think he cared? She thought scornfully. Well, she could live without him - he'd been a fantasy, and someday, when her head was just a bit less buzzy than it was right now, she'd try to figure out what her infatuation with a super-powered hero had been all about anyway.
And then dark eyes meeting her own. Laughing. Like he knew her, had always known her. Clark, she whispered softly, and she looked unseeing toward the end of the runway. Once more, she grabbed at the fresh ocean air, then squared her shoulders, adjusted her back-pack and strode towards the airport, catching up to the stragglers from the Metropolis flight.
Time for her to grow up and forget about love, whatever that word meant.
Teen Girl, her companion on the plane, was trailing the group, chattering, cell phone attached to her ear, oblivious to those around her. Whether it was because of her distraction, or Lois's, the two collided.
"Sorry!" They both spoke at once. Then Teen Girl giggled and snapped her cell closed. "My dad's going to be late, but it's okay, he's just caught in traffic because his new wife was having her hair done across town and they had to redo it, her hair I mean, because she didn't like it so he had to like wait for her so she could be here to meet me too, but you know, I don't think she wants to be here and her hair was probably good."
"I'm sure she does." Lois caught the suspicious look on the girl's face, suddenly understanding what lay beneath her babble. The girl was anxious. Lois smiled reassuringly. "How could she not want to meet you?"
"She thinks I'll be in the way."
"Why would she think that?"
The girl smiled, her anxiety evaporating like water on hot pavement. "Because I'm gonna be. It's either her or me, and no way it's gonna be me."
Lois fell in step beside her. "What?"
"Like this is my dad's fourrrth marriage. And that's not counting all the practice runs in between. So how serious is that?"
"Ah..."
"Me and Jase'll make short work of her."
"Jase?"
"My half-brother - Dad's number two."
"Got it."
"Like number four is totally bimbo-land - like centuries younger than Dad and no body parts untouched by big-bucks doctors." She giggled. "Jase found Dad's little blue booster pills and substituted estrogen supplements."
Lois's eyes widened. Wow. She could learn stuff from this kid, she thought as they strode towards the luggage carousel. They came to a halt, and standing side by side, eyes synchronized and glued to the chute at the opposite end of the conveyer belt, they watched for their bags to tumble out.
"So I'm taking it you don't like Step-Mom."
"That's not the point." The girl shrugged. "She's in the way."
"What if they're in love?"
"Like. No. Way." Teen Girl snorted, then peered curiously at Lois, as though she were a member of some strange cult. "Love is for fairy tales and prom night."
"Just asking," Lois mumbled, feeling like she was at the bottom of Darwin's scale, with no hope of making it up, even a notch.
"Like it's really all about hormones ... and maybe real estate," she said, her words laced with the rock-solid wisdom of her years. "Ask my Mom."
"Ah..." Lois was sure she could counter-argue if only her head was just a little less ... whatever. Surely there was a case to be made for love? Okay, so maybe not in her own personal, real life, day-to-day experience. And god knows she hadn't been "in love" with Lex.
So what exactly had she been in with Lex, then? That was an uncomfortable question.
"Here's my bag. Perfect!" Teen Girl reached forward to grab the handle of a high-end designer suitcase, hefted it to the floor, then glanced at Lois. "Great talking to you." Then, with the assurance of an experienced traveller, long red hair a banner streaming behind her slender body, she strode away.
Lois watched her for a second, then turned her attention back to the carousel, scanning its cargo in vain, vowing that the next time she bought luggage it would not be black.
Maybe Teen Girl was right. Given that Lois had been so sure about her feelings for Superman and then had decided on Clark didn't speak well of her understanding of love. Besides, just because she thought that what she had felt for them was love certainly didn't mean they thought that was what had been going on too.
I mean, remember Claude, she thought. You really nailed that one.
She blew out a deep breath. Look at it from their points of view, she told herself, as her eyes, trance-like, followed the circular flow of bags, none of which were hers, bumping around the circuit.
True, Superman had always been around to help her out of tight spots - but he had been there for lots of others too. So that didn't prove a whole lot.
But he'd said she was special to him!
Yeah, and then followed it with how she'd been the first person to interview him. Interview! How special was that? All that did was put her one up on Barbara Walters.
Besides, Superman was different from them, not just physically, but probably also emotionally, she speculated. A true superman who didn't need other people, who loved mankind but had no personal emotional bond with any particular man or woman. He lived above them, aloof from their petty concerns, without personal attachments.
She frowned, humbled by the thought - and yet - some image that she couldn't quite pinpoint was telling her that this assessment was not quite right either. That she was missing something.
Her mouth attempted a smile. Maybe all that had really happened was that Superman was just not especially attracted to her, in particular, and not that he wasn't capable of being attracted to anyone at all. He probably had a whole secret life that everyone was unaware of.
Plus, he'd probably assumed she knew what she was doing when she agreed to marry Lex. After all, most of Metropolis seemed to think she had to have known what Lex was. So why wouldn't Superman? She was a big girl. So he hadn't abandoned her to a murderer, then, just assumed she had no difficulty with what Lex was. Which meant... he must have thought she was amoral! She glared at the bags passing in front of her.
As for Clark - she knew how he regarded their relationship. They were a great team, "productive" as the suits upstairs liked to say. Colleagues. I want us to be friends, he'd said.
He'd never actually asked her out on a date, so what did that tell her? He'd dated Cat, hadn't he? Had been thick with Toni Taylor. When Clark said she had to have known he was in love with her, she'd been dismayed but had accepted what he'd said because hadn't there had been a few ... signs? Nope, fact of the matter was she'd misread those so-called signs! Well, she wasn't the first woman who'd made a bad decision - no make that decisions - about men.
Clark... whispering her name, calling her.
She was thinking way too much about all this, going over the same old ground again and again. And now she was maybe even hearing voices! Get a grip, she told herself.
Where was her damn luggage anyway?
Looking around her, she noticed that the cluster of people waiting had thinned considerably and only a few pieces of luggage remained. Soon those were claimed. Then there they were - a cluster of forlorn people left staring without hope at an empty conveyor belt.
A well-groomed woman of a certain age was the first to speak. "Well, it looks like we all have the same problem."
"I don't need this."
"Who does?" a tired looking man snapped back.
"I suggest we all go together to get this cleared up." Without waiting to see if any one would follow, the woman who had first spoken set off across the vast baggage area to the bank of airline counters which was just dimly perceptible off in the distance.
The group followed.
"They can't do this - they can't lose all my stuff!" Angry muttering from an old man.
"Tell me about it. So begins my new start." This from a neatly dressed man chasing forty.
"On the run, eh?"
"No, not me. Sometimes you need to start over, go somewhere new."
"That's running away. And take it from me, it doesn't fix things," the old man said.
God, that's what she was doing. She was running away!
No, she was not.
Yes, she was. She was running. Running from a city she loved, with its staccato energy and endless, enticing streets, each with a different story. Running from the Daily Planet, her true home and her pride. Running from Clark Kent. From herself.
Having arrived in front of the appropriate counter, their self-appointed advocate began talking with amazing patience to the one and only representative on duty at that very early hour. Her calmness paid off; they actually got some information. Their luggage was still sitting in Metropolis. It had never been loaded.
Simultaneously, several of them started to jabber, their words ranging from resigned to annoyed. Except Lois. She smiled.
This was a sign. Of course, no way was Lois Lane superstitious, but sometimes things happen, and you think it's bad news, but when you consider it carefully you understand that it's really not.
The fact of the matter was she wasn't meant to leave Metropolis. She'd grown up there; it had shaped her as surely as had her parents' DNA. It was her city and she belonged to it.
And she suspected she would really never be able to run away from Clark Kent, either. She carried him with her, in her heart, in her soul, and so there was no point in fleeing.
In the last few months, she'd fallen into a trap she'd thought she'd by-passed: she'd let herself be defined by the men around her, something she'd fought against as she'd grown up. But it was a trap older than time, and without noticing she'd let herself been defined by powerful men. Perry White's protégé. Superman's girlfriend. At least so the tabloids had called her, but she'd accepted the label and come to think of herself that way.
Then Lex.
She was tougher than that; she understood that now. She was on her own, and she was an adult. What defined her was Metropolis and the Daily Planet - her city and her paper - it was what she did and where she belonged. Now it was time to face what she had done. And to prove that once more she could be the best.
Besides, Clark would probably need her ... wouldn't he? It would be hard working with him, maybe the hardest thing she had ever done, but she would have to ignore her feelings for him. He didn't really know Metropolis the way she did; it was her turf. He was an outsider, still learning the city and its rhythms, but his instincts were good - no make that great, she qualified, as she reminded herself that he'd called it right about Lex Luthor. Still, she knew bits of stuff that a guy from Whereverville couldn't know. She could be his bridge - with her as a partner, he would no longer be an outsider.
Besides, he'd stuck by her, in his own bizarre way, during the Lex mess, and she owed him.
So she made up her mind.
After she and her fellow travelers had given their names to the airline representative, Lois walked to the bank of phones on the far wall.
"Perry?" ... "Yes, I know what time it is." ... "I sent you a letter..."
Then she shouldered her backpack and booked a flight back home.
the end.
[[This story is a prequel of sorts. If you want to know what happens next, it's in a story I wrote a couple of years ago, "Yesterday, Upon the Stair".
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