Story TOCChapter 9Lois closed her eyes and thought about how she had woken up this morning, warm and loved and secure in his arms. How she'd almost felt like they were floating. How she’d had some vague sense of how every morning could be like this, if only she was brave enough to let him all the way in. How he had feathered a kiss into her hair thinking she was still asleep. And how completely wonderful it felt to have her legs entwined with his. It was fresh and uncharted territory, but it had felt like the most natural thing in the world to wake up with him like that. They'd been so close. So close. And now, the bomb. She couldn’t die without him knowing.
Suddenly, she heard a crash—a whoosh and a blur of red and blue appeared in the dimly lit tunnel and then disappeared again. Within seconds, the bomb was disabled, she was untied, and for the moment, she was alone, her heart racing, thoughts of Clark still fresh in her mind.
“Oh my god,” she said to no one.
She presumed he had apprehended Gretchen. And she assumed Superman would return once Gretchen was handed over to the police. And she was right. A familiar whoosh-thud landed behind her. Her heart instinctively skipped a beat on his arrival. But before she was even fully turned around, he was yelling at her.
“Lois, what were you
thinking? You KNEW you were in danger! I almost didn’t find you. I
almost didn’t get here in time—do you know how close you were to—you were very nearly killed! You
promised me you would STAY put!”
She was shaking almost violently, the tears still rolling down her face, even more so because she had never seen his wild-eyed panic quite so pronounced or out of control. He had never yelled at her, not like this. He looked terror-stricken, his face raw with emotion.
“I know. I know I did, Clark, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I thought they had kidnapped you and Nigel was going to kill you and I...
She froze.
“...Clark?”
She looked up at him slowly. Stared at him, puzzling out the face before her for a moment. And all at once, the kaleidoscope of these two men she had known so intimately slid together cleanly, effortlessly, leaving the one man she had woken tangled up with this morning standing before her in a red and blue costume with a billowy cape.
He stared back at her, shocked into silence. And suddenly it was clear as day.
“Yes, Lois,” he managed, his angry tone suddenly soft and apologetic. Oh yes, they were back on an even playing field now.
She was still staring at him, stunned and wordless with her heart in her stomach, when a voice interrupted the thick silence between them, and they both turned toward the voice.
“Superman! How kind of you to join us,” Lex bellowed with mock-amiability as he entered across the tunnel from them, his voice echoing off the walls. He looked at Lois, “So sorry I’m late, my dear, I had to take care of cleaning up a few...loose ends.”
“Nigel?” Lois asked, already knowing the answer.
“Well, yes, he was very good to me, but I was starting to get the feeling he planned to double-cross me. And we can’t have that, can we?” Lex said, a devilish twinkle in his eye.
“He also killed Ramin,” Superman said to Lois, his jaw twitching. Just as it had earlier, in the conference room, she realized. God, he looked like he was about to combust from the stress of this moment.
“Ah, yes, poor Ramin. He tried to prove his loyalty to me, but alas he could not be trusted. And now, here we all are,” he sang into the sewers, as if a grand and glorious party was about to get underway.
Superman scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, instinctively stepping to stand in front of her. Lois looked at him with wide eyes, and it felt like the world had slowed around her while her mind swirled. Lex was still talking but sounded so distant. The S on the cape stared at her, and she forced her mind to process that this was Clark. Just Clark, her partner who had sparred with her over crosswords the night before, her best friend who had gently dabbed her forehead with a cool cloth. Her almost-first date, who, just twelve hours before, had promised to take her for Chinese—wait, or was it...to China?—for their first date.
Her brow furrowed, stitching this new truth together in her mind. The mind-blowing dumplings. The fortune was always in Mandarin.
Oh, Clark. He'd said he was going to tell her everything. He had wanted her to know. Her heart squeezed with a rush of tenderness for this man, for the superhero who at once seemed distant and yet drawn to her in a way that had always confused her. For the man who brought her coffee every morning, and cradled her when she was sick, and feathered hesitant kisses in her hair.
That look on his face before he dashed off to return a video. The haunted weariness in his eyes and the heaviness his shoulders sometimes carried upon his return.
“
Does he have anyone, Clark?” “He does.” “I’m already involved with you, Lois.” His heart had always been hers. Always.
And he'd waited. So patiently. Her heart and breath hitched, her head spinning, almost unaware that Lex was still there and still threatening.
He had wanted her to know. Suddenly, everything felt upside down and it took her a second too long to notice Lex was now brandishing a gun. Clark remained in front of her, protecting her. She watched his left hand, the one that had covered hers while she slept, as it reflexively clenched and unclenched at his side.
And as she watched him approaching Luthor, her stomach dropped, and everything, all her senses, snapped violently back into focus.
“You know guns can’t hurt me, Luthor.”
“Superman, it’s a trap! He has—”
“Now, Lois, don’t interrupt,” Luthor tsked at her and then turned his attention back to Clark. “Well, yes, of course I know that. But unfortunately for you, I also know your weakness. Well, both of your weaknesses. Stop right there, or I’ll shoot her.”
Clark stopped instantly, clearly not wanting to provoke him even though his body still shielded her from any threat of being shot. But just then, a cage dropped sharply—so quickly—over him, the glowing bars separating him from her and illuminating the sewer in a sickly vibrant, neon green. Lois watched in horror as Supe—Clark—crumpled to the ground in a heap inside the cage.
Oh god, she was too late. The clang of the cage as it hit the sewer floor echoed in her ears, the cage—the mysterious cage—no more than three feet in front of her now with Clark writhing in pain within it. “Oh my god,” Lois whispered. “Oh my god, Lex.” Her voice rose in volume and pitch, her horror reverberating throughout the tunnels. “Stop it...stop it! Turn it off!”
He ignored her. Of course he did. “Remember this, Superman? I’m sure you’re kicking yourself for walking into this trap twice.”
What did he mean twice? “Gretchen, whom I presume you just took to jail, was ever so helpful in designing this brilliant contraption the first time. She’s the one who figured out that kryptonite can be liquified when boiled at extremely high temperatures. Fascinating place, your home planet.”
Some desperate part of her hoped that there was a flaw in his plan, a chink in his armor. If Gretchen had been involved, she could hope...
Lois watched as Lex circled the cage with his hands behind his back, still quite uncharacteristically ignoring her. “Gretchen saved it from Lex Tower after I died. Now, this time, we made a few modifications. The last cage, it turned out, was a little too big.” Lex paused to shrug, as if it had been some ill-fitted suit needing retailoring. “So Gretchen made it a bit smaller, more poisonous to you, so as to make you sicker faster. You see, the last one enabled you to escape just before I came down to finish you off, which was, as you can imagine, very disappointing. That, combined with Lois’ momentary insanity in rejecting me, and the police...well, I did what I had to do. Now, I admit I overreacted in jumping from the building, but I like to win. I’ve never taken disappointment well.”
In a futile attempt to expose a weakness in the bars, Clark threw his body against the cage, and collapsed in a heap, wincing as the pain attacked him from all sides. “What do you want, Luthor?” he managed to spit out, and Lois couldn't hear anything but Clark—in excruciating pain.
Lex continued, his audience quite literally captive. “Ah, that’s very simple. I want Lois. Well, and I want you dead. I want Lois, and I want you dead,” he pronounced as plainly as if he were ordering a sandwich and a side of fries.
“And so do you, I presume. Want Lois. So I thought, what better way to kill Superman than to trap him in a cage with Lois there? She will never leave you. Though she’s very feisty now, isn’t she? And she would...well, she'd rightly choose me, assuming she had the proper mindset in place. It appears her love for me has faded, but that is a mere inconvenience."
Lois’ heart clenched painfully. This was all her fault.
Lex continued, still—for all his psychopathic want of her—ignoring her. “She is the only common ground we have, you see. You love her. And I love her. But I can’t have her when you’re in the picture, because she loves you, as much as I refuse to believe she would ever actually marry an alien from another planet. She’s far too smart for that. Too sophisticated.”
Lois knew they were insults from an insane megalomaniac, but they stung. She again recalled their conversation from the night before, when they were doing the crossword.
“I don’t think of him that way.” Suddenly, she saw with clear understanding how much he needed to hear those words; how very alone Clark must have felt all those years, hiding who he was, unable to love anyone fully—even her—for fear of being rejected. He had been so vulnerable with her. Her eyes burned as they filled with tears. She needed to get them out of this.
“You’re wrong, Lex,” she blurted out. “I’m not in love with Superman. He’s...just a friend. He’s always been just a friend.” She made her way around the cage, glancing at Clark but hoping to hide her true feelings, lest Lex read her face somehow.
Clark’s pained eyes met hers, before he doubled over again in agony.
“Well, that’s good news for me, isn’t it? But Superman still protects you, and I believe, for all his misguided overtures, loves you, and that just won’t do. He must be handled, and that’s that. Now, may I offer you a drink?” Lex turned on his heels and strode toward that bookcase, the ridiculously battered bookcase that no doubt had wine on it worth more than a week’s salary.
Her whole body was tense, a sick knot in her stomach as her eyes darted from Lex to Clark, who was curled tightly into a ball in the middle of the small cage. She eyed Lex again, who was arrogantly busying himself with choosing a bottle of wine, as though all the murdering had made him thirsty for a $500 glass of merlot. As he was selecting wine glasses from the upper shelf and putting them on a small table, Lois took her chance and rushed to the bars of the cage, crouching on the ground and trying in vain to reach for Clark’s hand.
“Oh god, Clark,” she whispered. “I...I’ve never seen you like this. You have to fight. Don’t die on me, Clark. You can’t. I...love you,” she whispered. “I’ve loved you for such a long time. You need to stay with me...I...I don’t know what I would do.” She bit back the threatening tears.
“Hurts...Lois. It hurts...”
“I know. I know it does, Clark. I’m so sorry, I—shh,” she warned, vigilant as she eyed Lex working the corkscrew on the bottle. She took her voice to the faintest whisper. “Clark, I need you to play along. He’s—”
The second she sensed Lex moving, she was up and a distance away from the cage again, hoping desperately that Clark had been lucid enough to hear and understand her.
“We have some things to sort out,” Lex started saying as he uncorked the wine and started pouring two glasses, as if he’d had her undivided attention the whole time, as if she’d accepted his offer for a drink. “But you can learn to love me again, you’ll see.” He turned around and looked at her, both wine glasses in hand. “More than you could ever love an alien from another planet. Admit it, Lois, you’ve always been attracted to me. Superman has always just been an interference; a dazzling distraction, keeping you from seeing all that I can offer you. So, I’ve put him in the cage again. And this time, he won’t escape. “Wine, Lois?” he said, offering her the second glass like he wasn’t holding the world’s superhero hostage.
As if he wasn't trying to kill Clark.
She swallowed hard and bit back her vitriol, shaking her head mutely. She needed to lure Lex in. But first she needed to understand when Lex had used the cage before, and how Clark had managed to escape.
“Ah, well, suit yourself,” he said, shrugging and putting the glass back on the table, then he strolled back toward the cage, his own glass in hand.
“What does he mean,
again, Superman?” She quickly swept her tears from her cheeks, forcing herself to gather her composure.
“Ah! You never told her?” Lex leaned his over and cocked his head upside down to meet Superman’s eyes. “I thought surely you would have,” he said, righting himself again and swirling his wine glass before taking a sip.
Lois needed his attention off Clark, needed to fool him. Thinking quickly, she said, “We...grew apart after you died, Superman and I. I always blamed him for not saving you. When I...when I saw you fall, I wished I could take back what I said at the altar.”
“Well, I’m so sorry to have put you through all that, my dear, but do let this be a lesson to you not to take my love for granted,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face.
His words sent a chill down her spine, but she nodded anyway. “You’re right, Lex. I’m so sorry. What did...” She paused, swallowing thickly as she worked to feign adoring interest. “You said you trapped Superman before?” she asked in a tone that implied he must have been awfully clever to have pulled off such a feat.
“Allow me to enlighten you!” His eyes gleamed, eager to tell of his brilliance of how he’d lured the so-called hero and trapped him. Then he explained why he’d done so, “Lois, my dear, I couldn’t very well have him making trouble for us during our wedding or in our new life together. He knew too much, plus it was very plain to see that he was as taken with you as I was.”
She nodded, smiling at Lex, though it made her stomach turn to do so.
“And perhaps, you with him?” He lifted half an eyebrow at her but didn’t wait for an answer. “So, I had Gretchen—Dr. Kelly—make me this cage. She’s very brilliant, very useful. A bit too in love with me I fear, but ah, well, who can blame her? Alas. The plan you see, was to dispose of Superman the day we married. That, obviously, didn’t come to pass.”
Lois bit her tongue, telling herself that silence was better than asking, too eagerly, how Superman had escaped that first time.
Thankfully, Lex seemed equally eager to know. “Do tell, Superman. I’ve been
dying to know how you did it—if you'll excuse the expression.”
Clark looked up at him and said through gritted teeth, “Sheer will. I could never let her marry a monster like you.”
It was almost too much to bear, seeing Clark like this. Knowing he had been in this cage before, suffering alone, while she had been upstairs wondering where he was, wondering why her best friend hadn't come to support her in marrying this evil man. She had been so blind. She forced back fresh tears. Oh, they had so much to talk about. He couldn’t die. She couldn’t let him die. This wasn’t getting her anywhere with Lex; she needed to try a different tactic.
“Superman,” she started, the beginnings of a plea that would take every ounce of acting skill she possessed. “Lex isn’t a monster. Just because he’s powerful in a different way than you are, it doesn’t make him a monster.”
Clark only groaned in response, a wince on what she could see of his features. She prayed again that, if he could hear her now, that he’d heard her urgent whispers earlier, her reassurances.
What had Gretchen called him? Lois continued, “He’s...cunning. And brilliant. And magnetic. And knows what he wants and goes after it. He doesn’t let anyone get in his way.” She stepped closer to Lex.
“Ah, see, there you are, my Lois.”
“That's more than I can say for you, Superman,” Lois said, biting back the bile that threatened. “What, a couple of nights of dancing on air without so much as a kiss goodnight to speak of? And you wonder why I didn’t fall straight into your arms.” Her own heart ached at the sound of her words, the cut in her tone.
She turned away from Superman and towards Lex, addressing him directly now. “I didn’t realize you had...done all those things for me, Lex. For us,” she said, forcing a wide smile instead of a grimace. “You’re right, I didn’t really see you before. I took for granted all the ways you cared about me. I believe I could...” She stepped closer, impelling every ounce of sultry and seduction she could manage into her voice. “I could learn to love you again, Lex. I had forgotten. Forgotten how alive and loved you make me feel,” she said, staring right into the monster’s eyes, willing herself not to blink wrong. “So loved and...sexy...important. You spoiled me, Lex.”
“Lois, don’t,” Superman called weakly. “What are you doing?”
“You took me to Italy for dinner, Lex. Remember that conversation we had on the plane, the one about true love?”
Luthor’s face registered surprise, but delight. She began walking toward him slowly, holding his gaze, willing her eyes to tantalize him.
“Vaguely,” he admitted.
“You said love isn’t something you think. It’s something you feel. I forgot how you made me feel,” she said, regarding him like he was a magnificent prize as she reached to—reverently, she hoped—run her hand over his chest and to his shoulder.
“I’ve always been yours, Lois,” he said.
“There’s always been something...so irresistible about you, Lex. I had almost forgotten,” she said slowly, thoughtfully, as if this was all dawning on her at once instead of the revulsion and self-loathing she was feeling for not having realized sooner.
“There you are, my darling,” he smiled. Had he always pursed his mouth into such a wicked smile?
“Lex, would it be okay if I...kissed you?”
Her heart tore at the sound of Clark’s wail from behind her. But she couldn’t react. She needed to completely disarm Lex.
“Well, of course, my darling. I’m yours. I will always be yours.”
Lois reached up and cupped his face, looking into his deep, dark eyes, eyes that still burned with so much desire for her. The eyes of a monster. She brought her face to his, and just as his eyes slid closed in anticipation of her lips, she kneed him in the groin. He doubled over in pain and she grabbed the gun.
Lex recovered swiftly and lunged for her, knocking the gun out of her hand, sending it skidding across the floor.
“Lois!” Superman cried.
Lex chased after the gun as she approached him from behind. In a flash, her taekwondo had completely immobilized him, and on her last kick, he stumbled backward into an old, empty cistern full of rats and debris, hitting his head on the way down. She stared into the pit. He appeared to be breathing, but unconscious.
She rushed over to the cage, where Clark was still curled up into a ball, barely conscious himself. “Now, how do I get you out of this? There isn’t a door,” she said frantically. His eyes were closed. He looked so sick.
“He...has...the button.”
Oh. The button. It was still in his pocket, and now he was lying unconscious...in a pit of rats. Dammit.
Only for you, Clark, she thought as she ran back to the pit and hoisted herself inside, pulling the button from Luthor’s pocket and hitting it as fast as she could. The cage turned off and rose back into the ceiling, a metal panel sliding back into place to cover it. She climbed back out with minimal rat interaction, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that any minute, one was about to crawl up her leg.
Clark was still lying there on the ground. He hadn’t moved when the cage was lifted. “Cla—Superman, oh my god. Oh my god,” she pulled his head into her lap, tenderly smoothing her hands over his forehead and cheeks. “Are you going to be okay?”
He was curled into himself, grimacing, but seemed soothed by her touch. “Eventually...I think...sun will help.”
“Clark, listen to me,” she whispered. “We have to hide you until we can get you changed. Superman can’t risk being seen like this. I need you to try to get up.”
“I...can’t, Lois.”
“Yes, you can, Clark. You can. I’ll help you.”
She pulled him up to standing and slung his limp arm over her shoulders. Gosh, he was incredibly heavy; it was like propping up a refrigerator. They struggled down the tunnel a little ways until she saw a door on her left, cracked open. Inside was a bed. Perfect.
“This must be where Luthor was sleeping,” she said, helping him collapse onto the bed before locking the door. The exertion of getting to the room had completely taxed him.
“Lois, I need...to get this off,” he said, gesturing to the suit. “I think...I think it has kryptonite on it.”
Lois nodded. “We will get you changed. Then we’ll tell them you—Clark—got into an altercation with Lex.”
“Where...was Superman?” he asked, exhaling with a wince.
“He...had to return a video?” she teased, smoothing her hands over his forehead, his cheeks again, reassuring herself that he was alive; he was safe.
His eyes cracked open through heavy lids to look at her, his pale lips slowly curling into a faint smile.
She thought quickly.
“We...we could say he never came back after he took care of Gretchen, thinking everything was stable here?”
He nodded; it wasn’t a perfect cover story, but she could see he was too weak to argue. He laid on the bed, motionless.
“But I’m not sure what to do about the cage,” she said. “You are the only one who could move something that size without anyone knowing, and you can’t be anywhere near it.”
“We...might need to tell Henderson...”
Lois froze. “Tell him what, Clark? That you’re...”
The voices were growing louder; it sounded like they were tending to Lex.
“Clark? We need to hurry, Lex should keep them busy for the moment, but they’ll find us in here eventually once they start poking around.”
Clark was barely conscious, exhausted from the exertion of walking to the room. She ruffled his hair into its normal Clark style, then cradled his face in her hands, stroking his cheeks again gently. “Clark, can you hear me?”
He nodded.
“Where do you keep your...change of clothes?”
“It’s...complicated. I don’t have them with me right now,” he mumbled.
Lois nodded, scanning the small room. There was a brass hook on a wall where a few suits were hung; they would never fit Clark’s broad frame. She spotted a box of clothes in a messy heap in the corner under the bed. She recognized it as Luthor’s costume from when he was disguised as the elderly man. She retrieved the box and set it next to Clark on the bed.
“I think this will work,” she said, pulling the trench coat out along with a button-down shirt. “Do you at least have your glasses?”
“Cape,” he said, rolling to his side and gesturing to the top of the underside of his cape. “I always carry a spare pair.”
She found a tiny pocket with an invisible zipper in the cape where the glasses were stored. “Someday you’re going to have to let me watch how you do all this,” she quipped, gesturing vaguely to the suit and his body, trying to make him smile.
“At super speed? Or...slow?” he said, cocking an eyebrow in as suggestive a manner as he could muster.
“Slow,” she smiled. His sense of humor was returning. That was a good sign.
“I was going to tell you. Then take you to China. Mind-blowing dumplings are in China,” he mumbled.
“I know,” she said through hot tears. “You still can.”
“It will be a few days. Last time. Three days,” he mumbled.
She thought back to her nightmarish wedding day, and Clark, who had held her in the limousine, and come back to her apartment with her, and sat with her in silence while she numbly watched whatever movies he chose for her. While she curled up in a ball on the sofa and refused to eat. How he had helped her come through the shock, and while at one point she remembered commenting that he looked ill, she barely registered how sick he really must have been. She thought she remembered him saying he was getting over a cold.
There was so much to process. Now was not the time.
“Okay, now, Clark, I can...help you a little bit, but at some point you might want to try to do this yourself...”
“‘Kay.”
She began to pull the suit off, first removing his boots. Then she found the hidden zipper in the back and unzipped him, stopping at his waist, and helping him pull the suit from his arms.
“Okay, Clark. I’m going to turn around, because...I’m just not sure we are quite...well, ready for that yet. But if you can’t manage to get those off, then, well, that’s okay, I can help you, I would just feel bad if...”
“I...thought you said we were past the ‘leave something to the imagination’ stage of our relationship,” he teased weakly, casting her a lopsided smile.
She laughed.
“I think I can...manage it,” he said.
This was weird—good weird, but weird—bantering with Superman the way she always did with Clark. As well as she’d thought she’d known Superman compared to the rest of the world, she admitted he’d never completely let her in. And yet...he had. It was Clark looking up at her in that smitten way he did when she babbled. It was Clark teasing her and making her knees weak with that 1000-watt smile. Well, maybe 500-watt right now. But he was still Clark...half-naked Clark.
She turned to face the wall, trying to ignore the flush of warmth and desire coursing through her. The man was so sick. This was no time for thoughts like that.
After a few moments, she heard him flop back against the pillow, breathing hard from the exertion of taking off the rest of the suit, and say, “Okay. I think I need help with the rest.”
She turned around and saw him in just his boxer briefs, splayed back out on the bed, and a bolt of heat shot through her at the sight of him.
Not now, she told her traitorous body. The calvary would be here any minute now—Clark had to have gotten a message to Henderson when he took Gretchen in. She had to focus. With the suit now fully off, she took a spare shirt and wrapped it around the balled-up spandex and the boots and quickly took it out of the room, glancing nervously in the direction of the rest of the lair—they were almost out of time. She went the opposite direction, further down the tunnel, and found a dark corner, far from Clark and tucked it there—she’d have to come back later and figure out a way to dispose of it...
As she hurried back to the room, to Clark, she heard the sound of footsteps echoing down from the opposite direction, along with shouts from what must be the SWAT team. They were too late, but she was grateful all the same that there would be several large and highly trained people to collect Lex and bring him in.
She closed the door behind her and went back to Clark’s side, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. “Now it’s my turn to take care of you,” she said as she pulled him up gently, just enough to help him put his arms into the dress shirt.
He smiled weakly again, his eyes closed. “I like you taking care of me,” he said, reflecting back her words from the night before.
Her eyes were tearing up again. This sweet, gentle man. Her Clark.
“Are you mad?” he asked, his voice low and full of gravelly remorse.
She shook her head, her hands looking slightly blurry in front of her as she did the buttons on his shirt. “No, I’m not mad.”
His mouth turned up again at that.
“Did you mean it?” he said, leaning back onto the pillow with his eyes closed.
She reached up to stroke his cheek again, gently, reassuringly. “Mean what?”
“You love me? You love...me—Clark?”
She nodded, a warm tear slipping down her cheek. “For a long time.”
“Me too.”
“I know,” she said, in an almost whisper.
“Perry’s office. Day one. Done for,” he replied.
Lois inhaled sharply, her heart squeezing in her chest. And though they surely only had a minute or so before the calvary discovered this room, she needed in that moment to touch him. She reached for his hand, then brought it up to brush a kiss against his knuckles. And then she lifted it just a touch further, holding his hand up to cup her cheek so she could feel the warmth of his skin against her own.
“We have a lot to talk about, Clark. But for now, we need to get you out of here, put you in your bed, and you’re going to let me nurse you back to health.”
His eyes flew open at that, and he gave her a wicked grin. “I look forward to that,” he said. “Let’s get me out of here.”
She grinned back at him and hurried to get him into the trench coat. Then she helped him all the way upright, settling him into the chair next to the bed. She gave him a once-over. He was looking decidedly more Clark-like...an uncharacteristically sick Clark, but he passed muster, she decided. She opened the door quietly and slipped back into the main part of the tunnel system.
She ran her hand up her arm to brush off a nervous chill as she made her way back to where the investigation was already underway.
Across the corridor, she could clearly see Inspector Henderson and a handful of other investigators combing the premises. Luthor was being loaded onto a stretcher; he still appeared to be unconscious. Henderson was watching the paramedics work and circling the pit for clues.
“Henderson!” Lois half-whispered.
Inspector Henderson spun around. “Lois?”
“We need to talk to you,” she said, summoning him down the hall. Henderson quickly made his way over to her, and they walked together wordlessly to the small bedroom.
He shut the door behind him and locked it, seeming to instinctively understand privacy was a concern. “Are you guys okay?”
Lois nodded. “We’re fine. Luthor tried to kill us—and Superman. He had a cage, one that made Superman powerless. But Clark and I managed to free him, and when I was defending myself, Luthor fell into that pit with the rats in it. He hit his head on the way down.”
“Taekwondo, Lois?” Henderson said with a wry smile, then eyed Clark. “Clark, you look terrible; the paramedics are here, why don’t you—”
“I’ll be all right, Henderson. I just took a few punches from Luthor, but nothing’s broken,” he said, with as much energy as he could muster.
He turned his attention back to Lois, who was clearly in a better state to fill him in. “Tell me about this cage. Where is it? How did it render Superman powerless?”
Lois felt her chest tighten, the blood in her veins running ice cold. All at once it hit her, the magnitude of what it meant for Clark to share this secret with her. She understood with fresh clarity why it had taken him so long to tell her; she was his partner, even his best friend, but this secret bound them together for life. She wondered if he worried that the great burden of protecting his secret was almost too much for him to put on anyone. Even though—in both guises—he always, always protected her.
And yet he had wanted to tell her. He’d known it was time for him to share everything with her. What this meant, she couldn’t quite process. But she felt a rush of love and desperation, a fierce need to protect him at all costs. A sick feeling slithered its way back into her stomach; she really didn’t want to tell Henderson anything.
“Henderson...” Lois hesitated, and he gave her a slight nod, a serious stare—and she knew he understood whatever she was about to say required a great deal of trust. “We trust you, and we know Superman trusts you more than any other law enforcement he works with, so we hope we are making the right decision on his behalf. Because now we need you to help us protect him, too.” She was biting back hot tears again, fighting off a rush of emotion. She needed to seem composed and professional; Superman was just a friend.
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully and darted between them. Lois could tell he was puzzling something out in his mind.
His eyes softened, and Henderson began slowly, “Guys, I have a vested interest in protecting Superman too. He does a lot of good for this city, and for my department. I don’t want any more of these lunatics out trying to kill him either. Whatever it is, I can promise you it stays in this room.”
Lois looked at Clark, and his eyes told her she should proceed. “There’s a trapdoor in the ceiling near the pit. Inside is a cage made of kryptonite.”
Henderson’s eyes grew wide. “Kryptonite? I thought—”
Lois shook her head. “It’s real, Henderson.”
“The only people who know are in this room, and Dr. Klein at S.T.A.R. Labs. He’s Superman’s personal physician,” Clark interjected. Lois’ eyebrows raised at that. Superman had a personal physician? Who was Dr. Klein?
“So...I assume it didn’t kill him if he isn’t here.”
“Lois managed to disarm Luthor, and I freed Superman from the cage,” Clark said. “He needed to get as far away from the cage as possible, and he didn’t want to risk anyone seeing him vulnerable.”
Lois looked at Clark with worry. He still looked so pale, his lips almost the color of his skin, but the fact that he was able muster the energy to talk normally was a good sign. He seemed to be improving faster now that the suit was off.
Henderson nodded. “That’s understandable. So what can I do to help?”
“We need you to help us dispose of the cage,” Lois said. “Get it to Dr. Klein at S.T.A.R. Labs. Superman will fill him in. It looks like a regular cage; it doesn’t glow green until the cage is activated, so hopefully that will be easy to cover up.”
Henderson nodded again. “You got it. I know Dr. Klein; I’ll call him now and take care of it.” He looked at Clark again with a furrowed brow. “Why don’t you two go home and get some rest? You in particular look like you need it,” he said to Clark, meeting his eyes directly. “Thanks for bagging Luthor for me. I’ll get your official statements tomorrow, but I have what I need for now.”
Lois released a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding and gave the inspector a grateful smile, reaching down to squeeze Clark’s hand as Henderson turned to leave. Her heart was racing. The reality of being involved with Superman was far more intense than her fantasies had ever cared to imagine.
He turned around again and looked at them both, eyeing their joined hands, then sizing up Clark again in the slightly too-small trench coat. “And guys?”
“Yes?” Clark replied.
“Next time you see Superman, tell him I hope he’s back on his feet again soon,” he said, his eyes lingering as they found Clark’s. “I’m on his team.”
Henderson headed for the door, but turned back. “I’ll, uh, let them know to clear this room last...give you a few minutes to get up and head out. See you tomorrow.” And with another nod of his head, he left the room.
Alone again, for a few minutes anyway, the silence stretched between them. Lois blew out another deep breath, trying to rid herself of the tension of sharing such sensitive information, of suddenly being responsible for a secret like Clark’s. She looked back at Clark, and then moved to sit down on the bed facing him.
His face broke into a wide, megawatt smile, magically back to 1000 again, though he couldn’t have recovered that much in the last few minutes. Still, her heart leapt at the sight of it, and she half-wondered if that smile was one of his superpowers. The relief she felt was mixed with this newly familiar sensation of belonging and an inexplicable need to touch him. And so she leaned in, pulling his face gently toward hers, and kissed him tenderly on the lips, lingering for just a moment.
She could almost feel the electricity sparking between them again as she pulled back, regarding his face anew—part superhero, part her partner, but somehow all Clark.
His smile looked a bit wistful now, though. "What's wrong?" she asked, stroking her thumb over his cheek as he so often did to her.
“It’s just...that...wasn’t at all how I imagined our first kiss. Oh god, that came out wrong! I mean...I just...”
She let out a breathy laugh. “I think I know what you mean,” she said, letting her thumb trace across his lips before dropping her hand slowly to take hold of his hand in both of hers. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
“On our date?” he asked, hope and desire brimming in his voice.
“Yeah, on our date.” She nodded. “But for now...well, things have been pretty...intense...the last 24 hours...”
“Getting kidnapped and dangling above the jaws of death? Yeah, that's pretty intense.” He squeezed her hand and smiled somewhat sadly.
“I meant...between us. Intense between us...” she hesitated, all at once a little unsure. “You had to have felt it too...”
He let out a whoosh of breath. “God, yes. The number of times I wanted to just kiss you senseless...”
“Why didn't you?” she asked, her pulse and her breath both quickening at the intensity of his response, the timber of his voice, the heat of desire in his gaze.
“You were sick, Lois...”
“So it wasn’t because I was too unsightly to look at, disgusting in my vomitus state?”
“Are you kidding me?” he whispered hoarsely. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
The threadiness of his voice and the way his eyes seemed to hold a hunger just for the sight of her...sent shocks of desire through her whole body. How this man could make her feel like this without even touching her...was a mystery, but one that didn't need solving as long as he kept doing whatever it was he was doing.
They needed to move, to get out of here, but she was having trouble doing anything but getting lost in his eyes. There was the comfort of familiarity but also a thrilling new intimacy, a passion she knew somehow had always been there, though he hadn’t dared to show her before now.
Her pulse still racing, skittering throughout her body as her eyes flitted down to his lips. Had she really so recklessly squandered their first kiss? She swallowed thickly. “We...we could call that our almost-first kiss?”
“Huh?” His brow creased and he quirked a bit of a smile at her, his exhaustion starting to show through again.
“The kiss...I, uh...it wasn’t what you wan—I mean, imagined, so...we could call that our almost-first kiss. Kinda like a test run.”
His grin grew, and she watched as some of his exhaustion seemed to disappear again as he drifted closer to her. “So that would mean...”
He was close now, the warmth of his breath on her lips, and her body flushed with heat as the seconds stretched between them. “This would be...”
“Our first kiss,” he whispered, his lips just barely touching hers.
“Make it good, farmboy,” she said, smiling against his lips even as he captured hers.
The world fell away, and all she could feel was the way his mouth moved against hers, his lips and tongue seeking, touching, caressing with such passion and fervor that she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. Tenderness mixed with a fierce longing as he somehow managed to deepen the kiss, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks and thread through her hair. She gave back with equal desire and put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. That sense of belonging filled her again, and it almost seemed like he was getting stronger, regaining his strength through their kisses.
When he finally pulled away, they were both breathless. He pulled her into a tight hug against his chest, and she felt the steady, strong beat of an otherworldly heart that was so human, and had always been hers. She sat back just a little, letting her hands stay on his broad shoulders, needing to still touch him, needing an anchor to keep herself upright even though she wasn’t the one who’d been severely weakened by kryptonite. She regarded him carefully, her heart spilling over from the flood of emotions and desire. His coloring had improved; his cheeks were flushed, and he was sitting taller, bearing an air of confidence again. His eyes were alive, dark and beautiful and admiring. He was drinking in the sight of her as if she was somehow healing his soul just by being there. Had she really...?
Her heart at once felt more vulnerable and more whole than it had ever been. She was full of awe for this man who served as the world’s beacon of hope, arbiter of truth and justice; a man who drew strength from the sun, and also from loving her. The thought that the world’s hero, the extraordinary, ordinary man in front of her had picked her...loved her...needed her...was terrifying and thrilling all at once. It wasn’t just guarding his secret, keeping him safe—he’d very readily, oh so hopefully, handed her his heart, asking her to protect him, accept him...and simply love him.
And she did. She loved him so very much, more than she thought was even possible to love someone. As she focused back on his eyes, his beautiful face, she saw him grinning just slightly, for the intensity of the moment still sat with him too. He really couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
“What?” She blushed furiously, heat rising in her cheeks. “What are you looking at?”
“You,” he rasped. “Always you.”
The End
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