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Part 5/11
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Sleep is not happening for me.
I miss my home. It's not that the condo isn't nice. It's cozy enough but it was intended more for a weekend fling than a nowhere-else-to-go hideout. The bed smells faintly of someone else's perfume. I'm too tired to change the sheets but not so tired that the scent doesn't irritate me. I can't fall asleep though. With my eyes closed I see my apartment again. Why make such a mess? What were they looking for?
Why try to kill us?
And then, for at least the thousandth time today, I remember with a jolt that Clark is Superman.
I know it's true – I've seen the evidence with my own eyes. He changed into the Suit and flew off right in front of me. My best friend is the Man of Steel. It's just too weird.
This is all just some surreal, bizarre, bad dream. Any minute now I'm going to wake up and my life will be normal again.
I open my eyes. I'm not in my bed. I'm hiding in a mini-condo on the marina to stay alive. I feel so lost. Nothing in my life is the same tonight. In a single day I lost my apartment, my novel, six years of notes… and my best friend.
I guess I haven't really lost my best friend. He's just not the person I thought he was. I don't know which is harder to accept – that Clark is Superman or that he's been lying to me all this time. Yes, he's tried to tell me. The point is that he didn't until today. And now that he has told me, I've been an absolute jerk about the entire thing.
Sudden tears sting my eyes and I can feel my throat closing off. There's no good direction for my thoughts to go. Instead, they zoom back and forth like a pinball. Clark, my apartment, years of work stolen, Clark, my apartment. Clark… I've been so rotten to him today. How many times since I met him have I acted irrationally and he still continues to be gentle and good-natured with me? With shame I recall how our first date ended. How I slammed the door in his face. Any one else would have written me off.
But not Clark.
"Clark," I whisper, wondering if he can hear me. Is he even back yet? "I'm sorry…." My breath hitches and I blink hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. "Can you hear me? Clark?"
I wait, my ears straining to hear… what? What did I think he would do?
<snick>
I sit up. Was that the door or am I driving myself crazy?
"Clark? Is that you?"
The frosted glass of the door shimmers as it opens. Then my nerves kick in. What the hell am I going to say? My hand is shaking as I reach over to turn on the bedside light.
"Did you call me?" Clark asks as he steps into the room. He's in gray sweatpants and a dark sleeveless shirt. His hair is mussed up - I've dragged him out of sleep. As horrid as I've been to him today, he still came when I called. If only he wasn't so damn nice. It brings tears to my eyes all over again.
"Hey, no, Lois, it's okay…." In an instant he's kneeling next to the bed. His hand cradles my face, his thumb brushing my tears away.
"I wish you weren't so nice to me." I will the tears to stop but it's not working.
"What?" He looks genuinely puzzled.
"I'm sorry, Clark. I'm sorry for what I said at my apartment. I didn't mean it. I've just felt so out of control and scared today. I've said and done a lot of stuff I never usually would. I just…"
"I know," he murmurs, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I never should have lashed out at you like that. It's just that nothing is what I thought it was today, you know?"
"I do, I know that. It's been a long day."
"Yes," I snuffle. "That's what I told Perry."
"It's going to be okay." He rises and sits on the edge of the bed. Then he touches my cheek. "I promise, I won't let anyone hurt you."
I give him a watery smile. "I know." As Clark or Superman, I've always known that.
"Clark…?" I hesitate, uncertain how to explain myself.
"Yes?" His voice is soft and reassuring. Oddly enough that makes what I want to say both easier and more difficult.
I take a deep breath. I owe him at least this much. "I… I'm still not used to the idea that you're Superman, but I'm getting there. And part of the reason I was so awful to you today is because I feel like an idiot for never figuring it out. It was easier to be angry with you instead of myself."
"Lois, I've never thought you were an idiot. Believe me, it's been exhausting trying to stay one step ahead of everyone, but especially you. I really have wanted to tell you but I was worried…"
"That I would act exactly like I did today?"
"Well, there were a few extenuating circumstances, but yeah."
"You know me so well." He smiles, but it disappears quickly after I say, "And I don't know you at all."
"No, Lois, that's just it. You *do* know me. There was just one thing that you didn't know. But the stuff that really matters, who I am inside, you already knew that."
I sniffle. Clark reaches over and picks up the box of tissues on the nightstand and holds it out to me.
"Thanks." I take one and blow my nose.
"Sure." He puts the box back.
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
He looks surprised but he nods. "Okay."
"How do you do it? Fly, I mean."
"How do I fly?" He blinks. I guess this isn't a question he was expecting.
"I finally have the chance for a real one-on-one, completely off-the-record, only to satisfy my own curiosity, conversation with Superman. I can ask you the questions I would ask Clark, but could never work up the nerve to ask Superman. So tell me, Clark, how do you do it?"
He looks at his hands as he considers the question. After a few moments he shrugs. "I don't know, that's like asking how you walk, you know? Walking isn't something you put a lot of thought into."
"Oh."
He sees I'm disappointed with his answer. "I have to think about it a little. I mean, I put my hand up," he raises his right arm. "And then I just kinda push up…" He floats a few inches off the bed. "Once I'm going, it's not hard but I do have to…" He floats back onto the bed. "I have to let go of gravity, if that makes sense."
"Sort of."
"Anything else you always wanted to know but were afraid to ask?"
I let out a choked laugh. "Actually, some of those questions got answered when you told me you were Superman."
"Like what?"
"Like where Superman goes when he's not flying around. If he eats. If he sleeps. If he has a home, friends, a life."
"If the Suit comes off?" he teases.
I blush, remembering the time he told me Superman was in the shower at his apartment and I blurted out that inappropriate question. To cover my embarrassment I shove his shoulder. "Yeah, stuff like that."
He catches my hand, holding it in his own. His finger traces over the bruise the handcuff left. My skin tingles at his light touch. "Can I ask you a personal question?"
"Sure." Is it his touch or the hesitancy in his voice that makes me shiver?
"When all this is over and we have our lives back, will you go out with me again?"
"Go out with you?" I repeat, uncertain if I heard him right. "You mean you still want date me? After the way I acted today?"
"Lois, there's no one in the world I'd rather be with."
My heart stutters. "I, um, I… yes. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with."
"And if I have to leave suddenly you won't take it personally?"
"No," I squeeze his hand. "I won't take it personally."
"I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry that I did." He squeezes my hand back and leans forward to place a light kiss on my cheek. I turn my head so that he catches the corner of my mouth instead. He freezes in surprise so I kiss him directly on the lips. After a moment's hesitation he returns the kiss.
It's the first thing about him all day that's exactly the same.
Then he breaks the kiss and stands up. "You'll be alright now?"
Disappointment floods through me at the realization that he's going back out to the couch. "You could sleep in here, you know. I trust you." The words come out in a rush.
"Lois," his voice has gone husky. "Don't take this the wrong way, there's nothing I'd like more than sharing a bed with you. But it's been a long day and we're both feeling vulnerable." He gives me a regretful smile.
"So all that super-resolve you seem to have is just an illusion?"
"As far as you're concerned? Definitely."
"Oh." My voice has gone small as my imagination goes into hyperdrive.
"Good night." He turns to leave.
I watch him walk across the room, taking in the sight of his bare arms and broad shoulders. I remember how good he looked the last time we stayed here, how I saw his silhouette through the door. How in the hell did I never realize that Clark's considerable physique was just like Superman's?
I think again about the way he kept himself so distant as Superman and the difference in the way he's kissed me as Clark. But even kissing me as Clark I sensed that he was holding back. Was it because he wanted me to know about Superman first? Or because he didn't trust himself?
What would it take to push him over the edge of that control?
<><><>
I wake up to the sound of running water. There's a moment of confusion as I try to place the source. The shower? Someone's in the shower? I open my eyes to an unfamiliar room and sit up abruptly. Where the heck am I?
Yesterday comes back in sharp focus. Clark lasering the handcuff off. The warehouse bomb. My apartment broken into. All my notes and work gone. Clark going back to the next room to sleep… It must be Clark in the shower. The Suit definitely comes off.
The water turns off and, a moment later, Clark opens the bathroom door. He's fully dressed, though his hair is still wet. He stops when he sees me, an amused expression spreading across his face.
"Hi," I say, feeling unaccountably shy.
"Hi." He gestures behind him. "The bathroom's free."
"Do I look that bad? Smell that bad? What's that supposed to mean?"
His grin widens and he shakes his head. "I'll go get us some breakfast while you get ready. Is there anything in particular you'd like?"
Now I'm feeling really paranoid. "Um, whatever sounds good to you is fine with me."
He leaves and I rush into the bathroom. When I look into the mirror I let out a little shriek. My hair is beyond tousled. My eyes are red and puffy - an entire day of crying will do that to you. There are still traces of mascara underneath my eyes. I'm horrified that he saw me like this.
After a shower and the most rudimentary of hair styling I come out to find Clark sitting on the couch and leafing through a stack of papers.
"Jimmy came by while you were in the shower," Clark says. "I've gone through the articles we wrote and made some notes." He holds up a cup of coffee. "Why don't you eat and I'll summarize?"
I take the cup and sit next to him on the couch. "What's in the box?" I ask, reaching to grab the white pastry box sitting on the coffee table in front of him.
"Pain au chocolate." He hands the box to me.
I take a bite and moan appreciatively. "Mmmm, where did you get these from?"
He smiles and shakes his head. "I'm not going to tell you all my secrets."
"Then tell me what's in your notes." I take another bite, closing my eyes to savor it. When I open them again Clark makes a show of looking at the notes he's holding. But I caught him - he was watching me. "Your notes?" I prompt, secretly thrilled that I might have the same power over him that he exerts over me.
"Lou Falzone was our source for the initial story."
"Lou Falzone," I repeat, unable to place the name.
"You remember Toni Taylor?" he asks.
"She took over Metros and went to jail for masterminding the Toasters. You were dating her." I blow on my coffee, waiting for him to come to the point.
"I wasn't exactly dating her…" He shakes his head and then apparently decides it's not worth the argument. "You remember Lou from the Metro Club? He was Toni's second-in-command. After the Metros fell apart, Intergang stepped in to fill the void. Some of the Metros were absorbed into Intergang, including Lou Falzone."
I nod and take a cautious sip. It burns my tongue so I set the cup down.
"Lou went on to be a low-level gangster in Intergang. He was trying to climb the corporate ladder, so to speak, and had an axe to grind against Delaney."
"He was using us."
"Sure, but there was a story in it. Lou told us that Delaney was skimming profits and laundering the money through a pawn shop in the West River area."
"Right." This all sounds vaguely familiar to me. "Didn't we sit outside that pawn shop for days to keep track of who was coming and going?"
"Yep. And every morning at eight o'clock Delaney would go inside and come back out with a bank deposit bag. But, and there was no way to tell you this at the time, he always carried more money in than he took back out."
"Hmph." I blow on the coffee some more to cover my irritation. "Like that's helpful to know now. Besides, it was only after I went inside and talked to Larry that we caught a break."
"Ah," Clark takes on a faraway look. "I don't need notes to remember that. You wore that trashy outfit…"
"Trashy?"
"Oh definitely. It was trashy, but the good kind of trashy."
"There's a good kind of trashy?"
"When you're wearing it?" He gives me a lecherous wink. "All trashy is good."
To cover my rising discomfort I take a gulp of coffee, choking on it as I realize that it's still too hot.
Clark pats my back. "You okay?"
"Yes," I wheeze. "It was Larry who ratted him out. He told me he wasn't getting a fair share of the profits."
"I don't know," Clark tries for deadpan but I can see the smirk. "If you'd interrogated me dressed like that I might have confessed to being Superman a lot sooner."
I ignore him, feeling suddenly intimidated. Innuendo with Clark was easy. Innuendo with Superman is just… a little frightening.
"So we wrote the first article which only implied that someone in Intergang was skimming profits. We didn't name Delaney or the pawn shop." I take another bite of pastry, trying to get my thoughts back on task.
"Right. It wasn't a big article and it was buried pretty deep in the paper. But the next day we heard from Lou again. He was worried that the story was too vague so we told him to get us something more concrete. He gave us the account ledgers that showed that Delaney was taking in more money in protection than he was depositing in Intergang's account. After we wrote about that, Delaney disappeared." Clark stops, staring at my mouth.
"What?" I ask around a mouthful of pastry.
He points to the corner of his mouth. "You have some chocolate…"
"Oh." I swallow and then lick the corner of my mouth. "Did I get it?"
He's still staring at my mouth. After a moment his face reddens and he looks down at the notepad in his hand.
I remember what he said last night about his lack of resolve around me. I'm suddenly very aware that we're completely alone in this condo. There's no phone to interrupt, no co-workers to wander past, no neighbors to come borrow a cup of sugar.
"We did another article, after Delaney disappeared," I search my memory, but it's difficult to do when Clark's leg is only a few inches from mine. I can feel the heat from his body and it ratchets my awareness of him proportionally. If only he wasn't such a good kisser, I wouldn't have this problem.
Where was I? "Umm… After Delaney disappeared and the accounting scandal moved to the front page it came out that about two million dollars were missing. Maybe Delaney arranged his own death so he could come back for the money later?"
"But that still doesn't explain why he'd want to kill us now." Clark keeps darting glances at my mouth as he talks.
"True." I watch his hands, turning a pen over and over.
"Let's look at it from another angle," Clark drops the pen onto the coffee table and stands up, pacing the room as he talks. "What if E was Delaney's partner? Lou said he thought there was another guy in on this."
"Larry from the pawn shop? He left town after the shop closed." I feel relieved that he's no longer sitting next to me. And disappointed.
"Not Larry. This was someone in the upper levels of Intergang. Maybe they think we've figured out who they are."
"But why would they think that? We haven't written anything about Delaney in months."
"I don't know." Clark stops pacing. He looks out the front window, his back to me.
It's raining outside, a gray drizzle that doesn't make going anywhere look appealing. It's the perfect kind of day for curling up in bed with a thick book. Until we track down E, though, I won't really have a bed to curl up in. I stand up, mentally girding myself for battle.
"Let's go find Lou. Maybe he knows who Delaney's partner was."
"Wait," Clark turns and strides purposefully over to me. My breath catches as his hand covers my cheek. I wait, heart thudding, thinking that he's about to kiss me. Instead his thumb brushes over the corner of my mouth. "You still have chocolate..."
As his hand moves away I think 'two can play that game!' I grab his hand and draw it back to my mouth, licking the chocolate off his thumb before letting go. He goes absolutely still, his mouth parted in astonishment. For a moment we just look at each other and I think the room is about to spontaneously combust.
I lean in close enough that I'm almost kissing him. "I'm just testing your resolve. It's… one of those things I always wanted to know but was afraid to ask."
"And what happens when you push it too far?"
I move even closer so that my lips brush his as I murmur, "You tell me."
I can feel his smile against my lips. "I'd rather show you." His mouth opens against mine, his tongue sliding across my lower lip. His arms go around me, pulling me solidly against him. Oh my god, this is even better than I remembered. He tastes like coffee and chocolate, my own mocha Clark.
Then, suddenly, he steps back. "Let's go talk to Lou."
Lou? Lou who? His breathing is just as ragged as mine and he can stand there and talk about Lou? Then I realize he's just making a point. It's going to take more than a little flirting and a kiss to shatter his self-control.
"Okay," I say as if nothing has happened. "Let's go talk to Lou."
As we leave the condo I realize that a gauntlet has just been thrown. Game on, Kent.
Game on.
