Okay, I realize I'm posting twice in one day, but *pretend* this is tomorrow morning's post (for those of you still up).
I was afraid I would be too busy to post in the morning, so I thought I'd go ahead and do it now.
Thanks again for all the encouraging fdk!
Table of Contents **********
From Part Two: **********
And yet, when she had refused his proposal, it hadn’t hurt him as badly as he thought it would. He’d actually felt slightly relieved. How was that possible? How could he feel like that...if it were true love?
Clark yawned and his thoughts turned back to Lois Lane. He had fought them all night, kept himself focused on Mayson. Now, after what had happened, he welcomed them. He quickly fell off to sleep, and his daydreams turned swiftly into another vision.
**********
PART THREE: **********
Lois was there in front of him again, pacing anxiously, and this time they were inside his apartment. He glanced around the room. Inside his apartment? How could that be? He looked back at her. She stopped pacing and turned around slowly to face him. Her face showed the anguish that she was feeling. She was upset. Why? She came closer to him. Her mouth parted and she began to speak, her words full of emotion. She was saying that she was sick of it and that the only reason to hide is because we’re scared. Scared of what, he wondered? She continued on, answering his question, we’re scared of the fact that we’re partners...best friends...and, this. And all of the sudden she was kissing him, deeply, passionately.
Clark sat up in bed in a panic. She knew him. She had been looking at him and had said those words to him...and, she had *kissed* him! But that was impossible! Neither of them knew the other. They had just met! Was his mind just making this up? Because he had been thinking about her all day and had gone to see her? Clark grabbed his tablet and began writing furiously.
After a few minutes he calmed down and glanced at the drawing still sitting on his nightstand. He grabbed it and worked on it some more, filling in more details.
Why was this happening? He felt so confused. He needed some fresh air. Clark got out of bed and spun into his suit. He’d make a few passes over the city and check on things. That would help clear his mind.
**********
Clark landed on his balcony, not feeling any better than when he’d left. He went inside his apartment and spun out of his suit. He was on his way to the kitchen for a glass of water when he heard a voice, a voice that almost brought him to his knees.
“So this is what you’ve been hiding.”
He spun around searching the room, and his eyes found the figure of Mayson sitting quietly in the shadows, on his bed.
“Mayson! I...”
“Why, Clark? Why didn’t you tell me? You knew how I felt about Superman, you let me say all those things to you and you never said anything. You proposed to me! You proposed to me before you even told me who you really are!”
“I was afraid to...”
“No, I’m not finished,” she told him, rising from the bed. She was holding something in her hand, but he couldn’t see what it was. “You knew that I thought you were hiding something from me. You knew that and yet you proposed to me anyway. How could you think I would accept your proposal when I thought you were hiding something? How could you put me in that position?” she collapsed back down onto the bed, tears streaming down her face.
He walked over to her and she held up a hand to stop him. He had never seen her this upset before. “I came here tonight to tell you that I had made my decision. The most important decision of my life. I couldn’t figure out where you were at this time of night, so I let myself in and waited for you to come back. But when you do come back, I find that the man I love is not who I thought he was at all...and,” she paused opening her hand and letting a piece of paper fall to the floor, “I find this.”
Clark didn’t need to look at the paper to realize it was his drawing of Lois Lane.
“Mayson, I can explain.”
“No, Clark, you can’t. Not right now. I think we need to take a few days apart to think about this and sort through things. I need some time to come to terms with this, with you,” she said, gesturing at him and around the room. “And then, when things have calmed down, we can talk about that.” She pointed towards the drawing.
She stood up and walked to his front door. “I’ll call you,” she said back over her shoulder, and then she walked out the door.
Clark sat down on his bed. He felt empty, broken, and alone. More alone than he had ever felt. He glanced down at the paper lying on the floor. He needed to see this woman again. He needed to figure this out before it consumed everyone and everything in his life. He needed to put it behind him so he could move on.
Mayson wanted time? He’d give it to her. He had enough unused vacation time that he could afford to take some time, too. It was time for some extended sightseeing in New York.
**********
Clark hung up the phone in his hotel room. That about covered it, he guessed. His parents knew what was going on, and he’d left a message for Mayson at work. He knew she had said she would call him when she was ready; he just didn’t want her to call him and him not be there. His message said for her to page him if and when she was ready to talk.
Clark looked at his watch. Showtime. He walked the short distance from his hotel to the Daily Bugle building, going over what he was going to say in his head. At first, he thought it might be better to hide the fact that he worked for the Daily Planet. After all, she used to work there and she might find it weird or suspicious or something. But he’d thought about it and realized, if she was any kind of reporter, she could figure out who he was in a heartbeat if she wanted to. Better to just be honest with her up front.
He went inside the building admiring its architecture and modern design. It was nice, but not as nice as the Planet. Of course his judgment was probably biased.
After looking at a wall plaque that showed what departments were on what floors, he rode the elevator up to the top floor. As he stepped off he felt the familiar energy that existed on a newsroom floor. Everyone running around busy, phones ringing, people shouting orders; he felt at home instantly.
He glanced around the room finding Lois Lane sitting at her desk, engrossed in something she was typing. He walked up and sat down next to her, unobserved.
“Wow! I can’t believe you’re able to type so fast with that bruised shoulder,” he remarked, smiling at her.
She turned towards him tearing her eyes from her screen, and she did a double take. “Kent?”
“Clark. Hi, Lois. Nice to see you again.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“Well, I told you I was in town to take in some sights. I’m taking in the sights.”
“Really? You know I’ve always considered the Daily Bugle to be one of the main attractions of New York,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Maybe not to the average tourist, but certainly to a fellow journalist.”
“You’re a reporter?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows in appraisal of him.
“Yeah, I work for a little paper in Metropolis, the Daily Planet, ever heard of it?”
A shadow seemed to cross her face when he said that. “Oh really? Yeah I think I’ve heard of them before,” she said guardedly. “So what do you want, Ken...Clark?
“A tour. I wanted to see the inner workings of another major newspaper, and who better to show me than one of its top reporters. A woman whose face is plastered all over billboards and bus stations around town?” he asked her playfully.
Clark couldn’t be sure but he thought her face might have briefly turned a shade of pink.
“I’ll, of course, offer to buy you lunch to make up for the trouble,” he told her, keeping his fingers crossed.
“Lunch huh? Well, why not, it’s been a slow news day today,” she said, standing up.
“Do you need to finish what you were working on?”
She definitely blushed this time. “Oh that, no, it’s fine. Just jotting some ideas down for a novel I’d been thinking about doing. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
**********
“I actually used to work for the Planet,” Lois told him as she took another small bite of her chocolate cake.
“I have to be honest with you. I knew that when we met yesterday, when you told me your name. Do you mind if I ask why you left?”
Lois made a show of looking at her watch, which Clark noted she wore on the wrong arm. Interesting. “Wow!” she exclaimed. “It’s getting late. I really need to get back to work. Maybe we can talk about that another time.”
Clark glanced down at his watch. Yes, it was getting late, but he hated to see her leave. He must have struck a nerve with that last question. Way to go Clark, being too pushy.
They’d spent most of the morning, lunch, and part of the afternoon talking, and laughing. They had mostly swapped war stories about the articles they’d written, but it had been really nice.
“So you’re saying you might like to try this again?” he asked her hesitantly.
“Well I didn’t exactly mean it that way, but yeah, why not. You know where you can find me if you have the sudden urge to tour our building again,” she smiled at him. He was amazed at the feelings that her small smile elicited in him.
“Here, let me give you the number to my hotel room. I’m staying just down the street from the Bugle at the Continental New Yorker. I’ll be in town for a few more days, if you get bored maybe we can hook up.” He wrote the number down on a paper napkin for her and handed it to her.
“Thanks, Clark.”
He walked her out to the sidewalk and hailed a cab for her. He opened the door and waited for her to get in.
“That was really nice. Thank you, Lois. I hope I see you around.”
“Me too.” She flashed him a smile. He closed her door and the cab took off. Part of him desperately wanted to follow her back to the Bugle. What was wrong with him? He was beginning to act like a stalker. He took off on foot and headed back to his hotel.
**********
He was kissing Lois and she was kissing him back passionately. He moved their bodies, still lip-locked, over to a bed in the room they were in. Clark lay her down on the bed, repeatedly kissing her hard and deeply. Lois began tearing at his clothes, pulling his shirt back and off his shoulders. Oh god, how was this possible? What was happening? Then she began fumbling with the zipper on his pants. He gave himself over to her. He could think of nothing else to do but respond. He began groping at the dress jacket she was wearing, pulling it back and slipping his hands underneath the shell inside it, feeling the soft skin it concealed. Oh, he wanted her. He felt a pulsating feeling deep down. No, not a pulsating feeling more of a vibration.
Clark woke up and felt his pants pocket. His beeper was going off. He fumbled the thing around in his hands, blinking his eyes, trying to make out the number. He immediately felt guilty. It was Mayson. She was trying to reach him, and here he had lain, dreaming of making love to another woman.
He glanced at the clock by the bed, seven-fifteen. After he’d gotten back from his extended lunch with Lois, he had decided to take a nap to escape his boredom. He had hoped he might see Lois in his dreams again, but he hadn’t quite counted on that dream. Clark got up and began packing his things back into his suitcase. It was time to go home. He had only been here for one day but he’d seen enough. It was time to choose, the fantasy or his real life. It wasn’t fair to Mayson. He would fly home to her and beg her to forgive him for his stupidity.
He grabbed his suitcase and things and headed towards the door. As he reached out for the handle there was a knock. He leaned over the peephole and looked out. It was Lois! What was she doing here? Well, he *had* told her where he was staying and had invited her to look him up. He had expected her to call, though, and he hadn’t expected that it would be tonight.
He set his stuff back down, took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Lois! What are you doing here?”
“Clark, can I come in?” she asked him. Actually, after the dream he’d just had, he felt a little uncomfortable with her coming in, but before he could voice his objection, she pushed past him and sat down on the bed.
“Sure. Why not?” he said belatedly.
“I need to talk to you, and I couldn’t say what I wanted to say back at the restaurant. It wasn’t private enough.” Clark wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the direction this was headed.
“Well, I’d say this is about as private as it gets. What’s wrong?”
“Okay. How do I say this? I don’t want you to think I’m insane or anything...”
“Trust me, Lois, I wouldn’t think that. Just say it.” No, it was much more likely that she’d think he was the insane one before this was all said and done.
“All right, here goes. Did you come here, to New York, looking for me? I mean I just find it highly suspect that we just happened to bump into each other yesterday out on the street and that we both work for newspapers, you working for one that I used to work for. And then you show up at the Bugle the next day asking me to lunch. It’s just all a little too weird for me especially with all those strange dreams I’ve been having lately, and you seem to be a very nice man but...”
“Whoa, Lois, slow down,” he told her. Man she could really get wound up once she got going. He’d never heard so much babbling. “Did you say you’ve been having strange dreams lately?”
“Did I say that? Whoops, I thought I was just *thinking* that part,” she said, sounding embarrassed.
“What kind of dreams?” he pressed her further.
She shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Umm, I don’t know if I can talk to you about them, they’re kind of private.”
“Would it make you feel better to know that I’ve been having strange dreams also? For the past three days to be exact.”
“Really? No, that doesn’t exactly make me feel better. This is so weird. So, wait a minute. I’m right then. You did come here looking for me, didn’t you? You dreamt about me, didn’t you?” she asked him pointedly.
“What makes you say that?” he asked back. “Did you dream about me?”
They both sat there in stubborn silence for a few seconds and finally Clark broke down. “Yes, I dreamt about you.”
“I did too. Dream about you, I mean. What does this mean, Clark? Why is this happening?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I keep having these memories of things that never happened to me. The lines between real life and these weird dreams are beginning to blur. Sometimes I have trouble remembering what’s real and what’s imagined. But it seems like it’s only been the past few days that it’s been happening.”
“Me too,” she confirmed. “I thought I was losing my mind. I recognized you yesterday when you bumped into me, but of course I wasn’t about to say anything then.”
“How many dreams had you had up to that point?” Clark asked her.
“Just one, but then last night I had another one.”
“Can I ask what they were about?”
She blushed and looked at him shyly. “They were about us.”
Clark started to question her further but his pager went off again. He had laid it down on the table, and now it was vibrating and rattling across the surface. He didn’t make a move to get it; he knew who it was.
“Aren’t you going to check that?” she asked him.
“No, I know who it is. She’s already paged me once.”
“She? Your wife?”
Clark paused. He didn’t want to get too deeply into his relationship with Mayson right now. “No, I’m not married. She’s a friend of mine, her name’s Mayson.”
Lois’ face visibly paled. “Mayson...? A woman about our age, kinda cute? Blonde wavy hair about shoulder length?” she asked him.
How could she know that? “Yes, as a matter a fact, do you know her?”
“No, not actually. I do, but only from my dreams. Clark, she’s dead. Or at least in my dream, she died, I watched her.”
“How did she die?” Clark asked her, holding his breath.
“In an explosion, someone put a bomb in her car,” she said, her voice wavering. “What’s going on here? I don’t understand any of this.” Tears were beginning to form in her eyes.
Clark couldn’t help himself, he went to her and sat down beside her, embracing her. “It’s okay. Shhhh. We’ll figure this out together, I promise.” He hardly knew this woman and yet this felt so right, so natural. Every part of his body was crying out for him to kiss her, hold her.
He slowly released her from his grip and looked into her eyes. “Tell me what you saw, in your dream.”
“Did you save her?” she asked him intently.
“Yes. I saved her. We are *very* good friends. I had walked her to her car the night of the car bombing. She put the key in the door and unlocked it, which I guess is what triggered the timer on the bomb. I called her away from the car to, um, tell her goodnight one more time, and as she was walking towards me, the bomb went off. We were both thrown to the ground. She had a few cuts and bruises but was fine otherwise. Now, tell me what you saw,” he insisted.
“No, Clark, I don’t think...”
“Please. I need to know.”
“Well, my dream was centered around us. We were walking through a city, Metropolis I think. It was all just images and feelings, I couldn’t hear anything that was being said, but we stopped and we drew closer to one another. Then you kissed me. A long, passionate kiss, and when you broke away I kissed you back. Then for some reason you took off running. I chased after you but I couldn’t catch you. I heard an explosion and when I found you, you were knelt down over the body of Mayson; her car was on fire. This was the only point I heard anything in the dream. You were saying her name, Mayson, over and over. She was cut up and bleeding; her body was limp. I knew without asking that she was dead. That was the point that I woke up from the dream, in a cold sweat,” she finished and placed a shaky hand on top of his.
Clark resisted the urge to take her in his arms again and hold her. He’d always known that he’d saved Mayson’s life that night, without Mayson even knowing it was Superman; but the reality of it hadn’t hit home until just now. Even as his mind was trying to comprehend all of this, he realized that he *remembered* what she had just told him. He remembered Mayson dying in his arms, and yet, at the same time, he remembered saving her. He remembered both. This was almost too much for him to comprehend.
“Was that your first dream?” he finally managed to ask her.
“Yes.”
“What happened in your other dream? The one from last night.”
“I was inside an apartment that I’ve never been in before, but you were there, so I figured it was your apartment. I was telling you that we were just afraid, and you asked me what we were afraid of. I said of being partners and friends, and then...then I kissed you! Why would I do that, Clark? How could we be partners? Or friends? I don’t even know you.”
“I don’t know, Lois. I don’t know how any of this is possible, but I had that same dream, only from my point of view. That can’t be just a coincidence.”
“Really? You had the same dream? How many dreams have you had?”
“Several. In fact, I had another one just now when I took a nap on the sofa.”
“What have they been about?”
“Well, the first one was just a bunch of images, really. Images of you, and a house. It seemed like you were in trouble, but I can’t remember very well now.” Should he tell her she was yelling for Superman? No, that wasn’t really relevant, was it? “I figured out who you were in my second dream. I was at the Planet. Perry was congratulating you for something, and I saw your name plate on your desk. Then last night I had the same dream you did.”
“What about the one you just had?”
“Um, I’d really rather not tell you about that one,” he said, feeling his face flush slightly at the memory.
“Too bad. It might be important so spit it out,” she commanded him, once again getting that *take charge* tone in her voice that he’d heard yesterday when he bumped into her. There was such force in that voice that it couldn’t be ignored.
He sighed. “We were kissing and touching and I think we were going to make love but I woke up before...” he said, his flush deepening.
“Really? Was the dream very detailed?”
“Uh, pretty detailed,” he said, flushing again.
She didn’t press him further. It seemed to Clark that her face was slightly flushed as well. “Okay. Well that settles it then. I’ll come by first thing in the morning before I go to work and check on you. We can compare notes if either of us dreams again.”
Clark’s brain told him that now was the time. Now was the time to tell her about Mayson. To tell her that as much as he wanted to know what was happening, why it was happening, that he just couldn’t do this. He needed to go back home to Mayson. It wasn’t fair to her. But his heart was singing a different tune. His heart was telling him that he *needed* to figure this out. That this was important, that *she* was important. So he walked her to the door and told her goodnight, instead. And he lay down on his bed in both shame and anticipation and waited for the dream to come.
**********
When the dream came, it was much like the first one, in that it was jumbled up, and there were just a lot of different scenes in different places; but the one thing that remained consistent throughout was that he kept changing into Superman in front of Lois. Time and again he saw himself, either first as Clark spinning into Superman, or as Superman changing back into his regular clothes. And each time, Lois was present. Then there were images of him kissing her as Superman, touching her as Superman, and of them floating together under the light of a full moon.
Clark woke up slowly this time, hanging on to the dream images as long as he could, savoring them. So she knew, or rather in whatever place or time he was dreaming about she knew, that he was Superman; and she loved him for it. She wasn’t frightened by it or intimidated. Even in those fleeting images he could feel her deep love for him, both as Clark and as Superman.
Lois would be coming by, to ask him what he had dreamed. What should he tell her? He hadn’t ever told anyone he was Superman, hadn’t even had the nerve to tell Mayson. She had found out on her own. Mayson! Oh no! He hadn’t called her back after her pages last night.
Clark rushed to the phone, picked it up and began to dial her number. Then he looked at the clock. It was the middle of the night. What would he say to her? He hated to wake her up. He hung up the phone and dialed her work number instead. He waited for her voice mail to answer and then left her a message.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back last night. Uh, Superman’s been very busy. I realized what time it was and decided I didn’t want to wake you, so I called here instead to leave you this message. I hope you’re able to forgive me for the things that have happened. I hope I’m able to forgive myself. But I’m not coming home. Not just yet. I have some things I still need to figure out. I hope you understand. I’ll talk to you later, and...I love you. Goodbye, Mayson.”
Clark hung up the phone and felt an emptiness in the pit of his stomach. His feelings were conflicted and left him feeling confused. He did love Mayson, but he felt love for Lois as well, and not a new love. A love that had been fed and nurtured, that had grown over time. A love that had been tested by fire. How was that possible for a woman that he’d barely even known for a day?
Clark knew that he should just wait for Lois to come by in the morning. That he should try to go back to sleep or do something to keep him busy until she got there. But he didn’t want to. His mind was racing. There was no way he was going back to sleep, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything but his need to see Lois again.
He knew approximately where she lived from their conversation yesterday at lunch. He could find her. He would find her. Out of habit, he started to spin into his suit when he realized that the window of his hotel room didn’t open. He’d have to leave the normal way and find a place to change outside.
**********
To Be Continued...
