Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic The Many Shades of Heroes 2/9 (Buffy Crossover)

The Many Shades of True Heroes
by
L. Mouse

Chapter 2/9

* * * * * *

"So Slayers are magically enhanced superheroes," Clark said, and then sipped at his cup of coffee. He'd listened to Giles' explanation with quiet interest; his questions had been intelligent, and he didn't seem surprised by much of what they'd told him. Granted, he'd gotten the Cliff Notes version of Slayer History, but Buffy was impressed by his calm attention.

"Pretty much, though I'm not wearing spandex tights when I go slay Vampires," Buffy said, with a laugh. "I guess you could call us that."

Willow's snicker of amusement made Buffy grin back. Willow said, "Hey, the demons might die laughing if you wore tights!"

Buffy groaned. "Only if I didn't die of humiliation first."

Clark smiled slightly. His eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. The man had a sense of humor that she had quickly come to appreciate. "I dunno, Buffy, you'd look good in all black -- maybe with a pair of fangs and a stake embroidered on the chest. And a cape. A good superhero costume must have a cape."

Buffy pointed a finger at him, "That's just wrong and it's so not happening. Besides, we try to be discrete. People would notice if I ran around in a spandex costume."

"True," he said, with an open grin now. "That's generally the point of a costume." Buffy grinned back; it was almost impossible not to like a man with a smile like that. Or mistrust him. She'd initially had some qualms about telling their story to a reporter -- but Willow had pointed out he was a long way from home, and his paper didn't even exist here. They'd have him gone before he would have a chance to write and sell a freelance story and in the meantime life would be much easier if they didn't have to hide things from him.

"So," Giles said, "What's your story?"

"Like I said, I'm a reporter," Clark said. Now there was a flash of -- Fear? In his brown eyes. Buffy didn't miss that. "That's pretty much my life. I've got a wife back home, and good friends, and a mother and father."

"You're remarkably calm about this for 'just a reporter'," Giles said, with friendly steel in his voice. "Willow thinks you're something more than human."

Yep, Buffy thought, that was fear in those brown eyes. He'd gone a couple shades paler. "R-really. I'm just a man. I'm not surprised by this because my world's just as weird as this one. -- Do you have Superman here?"

"Superman?" Buffy said, in confusion.

"A man who wears red and blue and flies through the sky under his own power, doing good deeds?"

"Um, no, not that I've ever noticed." Buffy shrugged. "Do you have vampires in your world?"

He shook his head. "Nope, not that I've ever noticed. -- Anyway, Superman's only one of lots of weird things in my world. I've written plenty of articles about strange stuff, and seen more things that I couldn't write about for fear someone might get hurt," Clark shrugged. Buffy relaxed a bit at his casual mention of not putting everything into a story; he apparently had some common sense to go with his brains and stunning good looks. "I've been involved too many times in weird and scary and threatening situations. As problems go, this isn't even in the top ten."

"Well, then, you just haven't been here long enough," Lois shouted from her computer in her living room, having evidently overheard his brief speech. "Give us time and we'll show you weird!"

"I was actually hoping to get home in a hurry. M-my friends are probably worried about me, and I've got an assignment due." He glanced at Lois as he said this. Buffy glanced at his ring, and frowned. Her Slayer intuition was telling her that there was a considerable amount that he wasn't saying.

Willow nodded agreement. "Giles? Got any suggestions for the safest way to send him back?"

Giles pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was silent in thought for a minute. "Can you sketch out the runes they were using?"

"Sure. Lois, got a pencil around here somewhere?" Willow asked.

"Here," Lois chucked the pencil at them and turned back to her book.

"Paper too?" Willow said.

Lois grumbled something that sounded rude and pulled several pieces out of her printer's paper tray. "Sure you guys can't get a hotel room or something? I'm on deadline here."

"Sorry, everything's booked up because of that political convention downtown," Willow said, apologetically. "We'll be quiet."

*And*, Buffy thought sourly, *This apartment is rented on the council's dime. Most Slayers share apartments anyway. She's only got a private apartment because she's the only Slayer in town.*

Clark muttered, "Some things never change."

"What doesn't change?" Giles asked, curiously, as Willow sketched.

"I know Lois in my universe," he admitted, with a grin that lit his eyes up. He looked at her again. "She is something else."

Buffy frowned. Surely not -- surely, this nice man ... and Mad Dog Lane? She glanced at his wedding ring. The Slayer who'd managed to piss off every Watcher they sent her so thoroughly that after six Watchers, including Andrew who was nearly impervious to insults, and after a year's trying, they'd given up and let her work solo?

Willow looked up sharply. Clearly, something similar had gone through her head at Clark's pronouncement. "There's two of them? Gods forbid we ever get them together in the same place; that might be a critical mass."

"Very funny!" Lois said, from her computer, without turning to face them.

"Many more than just two," Clark shrugged. "There are a multitude of parallel universes, each one a little different from all the others. I've actually -- well, this isn't the first time something like this has happened to me. I've met my counterparts in other dimensions before."

*Which explains why he's not having a major wig-out now,* Buffy realized.

Willow said, "Actually, I've met my counterpart from another dimension also. Umm, not such a good meeting. She was scary."

Clark said, "She couldn't have been that bad. She's you."

"She wasn't. She was a vampire." Willow said, with distaste.

"That's horrible!" Clark said, aghast at the idea. Buffy noted the real horror in his eyes. She was building a mental picture of a decent, honorable man, someone trustworthy, from his comments and reactions. Her Slayer intuition was chiming in with a warm and fuzzy assessment as well. Well, Willow had said that he was supposed to be a force of great good. Nothing especially surprising there.

Willow changed the subject. "How'd you get home before?"

"Science. Which isn't going to work here unless we can find the appropriate mad scientist with machine to transport me through space and time. But I have it on good authority that I do get home because I've met someone from my future." He shrugged. "We'll figure something out."

"Here, Giles, this is what they used. And I made these," Willow had made a quick sketch of both sets of runes, "changes."

Giles cleaned his glasses with his handkerchief then peered at the sketch. "Quick thinking, Willow. I never would have come up with that idea. This is a rather simple spell, but they would have used an Orb of Kritik to get things going, in addition to the book they took."

"I didn't see any orb or book," Willow frowned. "Do we need one to send him back?"

"The spell would have consumed the orb and the book, and yes, we do, if we want to get him to the proper plane of existence in one piece ... the orb is the hard part, I'll make some calls and see if we can get one. The book's the easy part; I've got a copy of the same book in my library in Cleveland. I'll have it Fedexed here. It's a common book." Giles stood up and walked onto the balcony; they'd already established that Lois' apartment had lousy cel phone reception inside.

Clark frowned when Giles took his phone out, looked over his glasses at it, then seemed to dismiss it. He said lightly, "One thing I'd like to do before I go home is find the other me."

Willow paused, then said, with some concern, "Clark, you might not like what you find."

Clark nodded agreement. "I know. But the other me needs to know some things."

He fiddled with his watch for a moment, winding it. Buffy said, "You might freak the other you out."

"I seriously doubt it," Clark said, with a grin. "Surprise him, maybe. If his life's anything like mine, though, his freak-out factor is pretty high."

"His life may be nothing like yours," Willow pointed out.

"True." Clark said. "Still. I'd like to find him."

Buffy was also hesitant about the idea. It wasn't that she was worried about surprising the other Clark Kent; he'd get over the shock eventually. It was the fact that they'd disclosed their secret to this Clark Kent under the assumption that he would be leaving eventually. What if he told the other Clark Kent, who may also be something other than Human? There was no guarantee he'd be a good guy.

Clark said, mildy, as if reading her mind, "Don't worry. I'm not so naive as to assume that the other Clark will be a Boy Scout like me. I won't tell him your secrets. That's your choice to do. Though if he is anything like me, you might find him a useful ally."

"What are you?" Willow said, frustrated by Clark's evasions. She knew very well that he was hiding something.

Buffy saw the same fear in the man's eyes. He stared at Willow, clearly trying to figure out how to answer a direct question. Without lying, Buffy suspected. Whatever he was, sharing his secrets wigged him out greatly. She shook her head, "Clark, you can trust us."

"I'm just a man," Clark said, finally, and fell silent. The look on his face was mulish. He'd clearly decided not to share whatever he was hiding.

Lois interjected, from her computer, "'Just a man' my *** . You're not human and we know it."

"Do I look like an alien?" Clark said, tone somewhat desperate.

Buffy blinked at him. He'd said alien, not demon. Which counted as a major clue; anyone she knew would have said, 'do I look like a demon?' She'd frankly been expecting to hear that he was a demon, and he was keeping the secret because he didn't want to get slain by two Slayers. "I don't know. I haven't met many aliens. You tell me what an alien looks like."

"I -- I need to get some air. Excuse me, ladies," Clark stood up, and headed for the door at almost a run.

"Oh, hell," Lois stood up from her computer and hurried after him. "Clark, wait. Don't mind them; they're being rude."

"Rude?" Buffy muttered under her breath. "I'll give her rude."

Clark stopped, hand on the door.

"I ... ladies, please. There's things I can't talk about and that I have no intention of telling you. Please, just give it a rest." He paused for a moment, hand on the doorknob, then he added, "Besides, this isn't my world and I'm not sure they're my secrets to tell. But I promise you, I'm no monster; I'm just a man."

Lois said. "They'll drop the subject. Right, Buffy?"

"Yeah, I guess," Buffy said, in a small voice. She didn't like being rebuked by Lois, but Lois was actually right. Clark's voice had held the strained irritation of a man who was trying to be polite but was stretched nearly to his limits.

Lois said shortly, "I'm hungry. I'm going to get something to eat. Does anyone else want to come?"

Giles waved from the balcony. "Go without me. I'm not hungry."

"I will," Clark said, "And -- uh, I should probably find a hotel room."

Lois pursed her lips together in a frown. She stared at the Buffy and Willow then with apparently reluctance, she said, "You can stay here, I guess."

"Oh, no -- I don't want to impose or make you uncomfortable," Clark said, diffidently. He held the door open for Lois as they walked out.

"Don't worry about it. They," Lois jerked her thumb over her shoulder at Buffy and Willow, "Are crashing here anyway. The more the merrier."

Buffy rolled her eyes at Willow, communicating her opinion of Lois' attitude. She resolved to tell Willow later about her analogy between Lois and blowfishes.

"You don't sound happy about the company." Clark observed, quietly.

"I'm on deadline on my book," Lois's voice tone and expression were frustrated. "I figured they'd be gone in the morning. Now they're staying over."

Annoyed at Lois' attitude, Buffy spoke up, "There isn't a free hotel room in the city, Lois, because of that political convention. We can fly out of here in a few days with Clark, when the next flight to Cleveland has available seats, but until then, we have to rely on your hospitality. Would you like us to sleep on park benches? "

"If I could finish my novel by deadline, yes," Lois grumbled.

Clark, to Buffy's amusement, laughed at Lois. "Some things never change. I'm sure you'll get your book out and the publisher will love it."

"You haven't even read anything by me. You're not even from this universe. How the hell would you know if my publisher will love it?" Lois demanded, irritably, as they waited for the elevator. Buffy was mildly surprised that she hadn't taken his head off for laughing at her.

"The Lois in my world has won three Kerths," Clark informed her, with a grin.

Lois Lane mumbled something unintelligible as Clark held the elevator door open for all three women.

* * * * *

Clark walked with his hands in his pockets behind the women, contemplating his unexpected companions. Lois wasn't even bothering to be nice, Buffy had clearly been biting back acerbic comments of her own, and Willow had been dead quiet. Only hunger had was drawing them together for a meal.

Buffy was a born leader; that was quite obvious. Clark watched the woman as she walked a few strides ahead of him. She carried herself with authority and strength beyond her years; he thought she was in her late twenties. She also had delightfully snarky sense of humor that had cropped up a few times when she was talking about past opponents.

She was someone used to commanding others and fighting secret wars. He'd realized that simply from the brief history he'd been given.

Giles said Slayers had unusual strength and coordination and rapid healing abilities, a certain amount of invulnerability to injuries, plus better than normal intuition. He'd also alluded to mystical gifts that nobody fully understood. These weren't Kryptonian level abilities, by any definition, but Buffy had given him a good hard shove and he'd been impressed by that. Her strength was definitely way above normal.

Willow, the witch, was an enigma. She was quiet, but when she spoke, Buffy listened. She also claimed her powers were magic, though Clark figured at a certain level of ability, the difference between science and magic was academic. His own powers could be considered magic by certain definitions. He certainly couldn't completely explain them using known physics.

And then there was Lois.

She was a Lois who was somehow hurting far more than his Lois ever had. Those dark eyes were full of anger and this Lois was older, harder, more contemptuous of life. He saw no sign of her sister or others in her family -- not even a photograph -- and he was afraid to ask. There were no photographs of friends or family in her apartment. It was obvious that this world's Clark had never found her. When he contemplated a life without Lois, and the obvious pain this world's Lois was in, his heart hurt for both of them. They needed each other; he knew that with a deep conviction. He and Lois were soulmates, regardless of the universe they were in...

She'd never known the family that was the Planet, either. What little of her history that he'd put together based on offhand comments from the others seemed to indicate that she'd dropped out of college, had bounced from bad job to bad job, and now made a living writing supernatural thrillers. The Watcher's Council paid for her apartment; they paid for housing, weapons, and medical expenses for all of the Slayers. The books paid for everything else for her.

Willow had done something about three years previously which had made every Potential manifest as a Slayer and Lois had evidently been one of the Potentials. However, Lois hadn't been identified until about eighteen months ago -- and had promptly pissed off most of Buffy's people who had tried to work with her.

Somehow, that didn't surprise him. Lois under the best of circumstances was hard to work with; he knew that all too well. But her attitude worried him, because it was obvious they dealt with some pretty serious trouble, and Buffy had told him the life expectancy on a Slayer was typically short. They lived heroic but very hard lives. Lois needed allies -- she needed Superman, maybe more than the Lois in his world did. Darn it, where was this world's Clark, anyway?

It had been 1996 in his universe. He contemplated his surroundings as they walked down the street, well aware that he'd was somewhere in the future as well as thrown into another dimension. The cars were sleeker, rounder. Every single one of his companions had a cel phone, and the cel phones were a third the size of the ones he was used to. The one he'd seen Giles open had a color display. The internet was mentioned multiple times in casual conversation, and he saw domain names everywhere -- billboards, advertisements, corporate logos. Google was mentioned in the context of doing research on sending him home -- Giles had confessed to not knowing a particular rune, and needing a book to find it, and Willow had said, "I'll just Google it. I'm sure it's on the internet somewhere." -- what was a Google?

Lois' desktop computer had been much smaller, and it had a large, sleek color screen -- not a monitor, but a two inch thick panel. She also had a very large TV that hung on her living room wall like something out of a science fiction movie, and he'd caught a passing reference to a movie recorded on a DVD. What was a DVD?

Fashions were markedly different; it seemed the 70's had made a comeback and the 80's were being hinted at.

"What year is this?" He asked, catching up with Buffy.

"2006," she replied. "Why?"

"Ten years?" He said, a little surprised. "Feels like it should have been longer. I guess Lois doesn't look that much older."

Buffy made a politely curious noise.

"It was 1996 in my universe. I suppose it's not important, just interesting." He walked with his hands in his pockets, looking around with interest.

"Make sure Willow knows," Buffy said. Willow had gone ahead of them, and was walking with quick steps in the lead. "She'll need to make sure to put you back in the same time."

"Yeah. It would upset my friends if I was gone ten years." Lois! He thought, suddenly scared at the thought that he wouldn't get back to the same time. Would she wait ten years for him? Did he want her to wait that long, alone? He hadn't thought about the implications before. He wasn't sure what was worse, the idea of Lois being alone for ten years or of returning home to find Lois in a relationship with someone else because they'd assumed him dead.

For that matter he'd disappeared in mid keystroke from his desk at the Daily Planet. He was more than a little curious about how Lois was explaining his sudden absence.

Buffy said, "Don't worry. Willow's the best there is. She'll figure it out."

"Where's she going?" Clark asked, watching in surprise as Willow, several paces ahead of them, turned down a dark and rancid smelling alley.

"It's her turn at bait," Buffy said, with a smile. She slowed down, then stopped a few feet from the mouth of the alley, leaning against the wall. Lois was glaring at her.

Buffy raised an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"I patrol these alleys every night. This is my home turf. You think there are ..."

"Vampires here?" Buffy cut in. "Smart ones, wary ones, probably. I've had the same problem at times. They figure out what you look like and they're harder to catch."

"I thought we were going for dinner," Clark said, confused.

"We are." Buffy shrugged.

Lois said grimly, and with something that sounded like frustration, "Killing vampires is our sacred chosen duty, yadda yadda. Therefore, pizza comes second."

"Has anyone ever tried to ... work with ... vampires?" Clark said. "Give them an alternative to murder and mayhem? Maybe they're just killing people because they're hungry."

Buffy started to shake her head; Clark suspected her response would have been polite. Lois just hooted a laugh. "Work with them? Without exception, they're evil, Clark. You can't trust them!"

Buffy's sigh sounded very weary to Clark's ears. "Lois is right, Clark. Mostly, anyway."

"Mostly?" He said.

"Pretty much always." He thought she was, if not lying, at least obfuscating the truth. She tossed her hair back and looked up at him. For a moment, he saw something change in her eyes, but he couldn't identify the emotion because it was gone so quickly. She said, "They kill people because they like to."

"I can't believe that. Not a whole race of monsters. Maybe some are, but there have to be exceptions." He shook his head in denial. It felt wrong to condemn to death an entire race because some of them were violent monsters.

Lois patted him on the chest as she walked past him to peer down the alley. With a smirk, she said, "You'll learn different, if you're here long enough."

Willow's scream made both Slayers launch into action. "Told you so!" Buffy shouted at Lois as they bolted around the corner.

Clark brought up the rear, reluctantly. He really didn't want to see this -- but he couldn't let the women risk their life without helping them. Particularly Lois.

Willow had screamed, but, he discovered, she was far from defenseless. They came around a corner in the alley just in time to see a vampire poof into dust. Three others surrounded her -- they whipped around in surprise as the Slayers arrived.

"Shit! It's the Slayer!" One shouted. "Let's get out of ..."

Clark didn't even see Buffy move, but suddenly, she was blocking the vampire's escape. Lois neatly stepped up behind them, a stake in hand, as Buffy said, "Didn't your mother ever teach you it's rude to attack and run?"

One of the vampires answered with a snarl and lunged at her. The second went for Lois, and the third charged at him, teeth bared in a rictus of rage. He ducked away, caught the vampire by its -- her -- wrists, and shoved it against the wall face-first. He held her there from behind, careful not to exert too much strength. The vampire was strong, and she was spitting curses at him.

He looked back in time to see Buffy and Lois busy with the slayage of the other two vampires.

He leaned forward and said in his meanest voice, "I'm going to let you go. I don't agree with what they're doing. But you will seriously regret it if touch another human -- another sentient being -- again. Do you understand?"

The vampire shut up. She peered back at him. Blue eyes, blond hair, high cheekbones -- she was model pretty. And very young. He wished he could simply take her to the police but what would the police do here? If they didn't know about vampires, that would be putting the cops in danger. If they did know about vampires, they might kill her, or worse -- Giles' explanation of their world last night had included allusions to government experiments on vampires.

"Do you understand what I am saying? I want you to start a new life. No more killing people. Promise me you'll do that and I'll let you go."

She nodded, and in a voice that tore at his heart -- she didn't look much older than sixteen or seventeen -- she begged, "Don't kill me! Please!"

"Go," he released her. She bolted. He figured he'd find her later and discuss the matter with her; he would try to find her alternatives to her current life.

He glanced back at the others in time to see Lois slay her opponent. He winced. There had to be a better way. Vampires were clearly sentient beings and that meant they could be reasoned with.

Buffy was still fighting with her vampire. Despite his misgivings about her claimed calling he couldn't help but be impressed. Her opponent had a good seventy five pounds and twelve inches of height on her and she was clobbering him. He started to go intervene -- and he was not looking forward to Buffy's reaction -- when a motion caught his attention.

A man stood in the shadows of a Dumpster. If not for Clark's superhuman vision, he never would have seen him. He was watching the fight with interest. The man was thin, perhaps a bit too thin. Wavy brown hair was pulled back in a pony tail. Very fair skin. Black jeans, work boots, and a black shirt. Clark paused, unsure if this man was a friend, a foe, or just a curious spectator.

The man's eyes met his. The man's eyebrows rose -- Clark noted one eyebrow was scarred. He knew Clark had seen him and was surprised. The man turned, and ducked between two buildings in a hurry.

Buffy dusted the last vampire with a flourish and a witty remark that he didn't quite catch. Something about a party. He frowned in innate disapproval of joking about killing things, even monsters.

"What?" Lois said, from beside him. "Did you see something?"

He realized he was staring after the man. Something about him bugged Clark; he couldn't put a finger on it. He said, "A man was there. Watching us."

"Where?" Buffy joined him.

"He was in the shadows. I just saw him for a second." Clark shrugged.

"What did he look like?" Buffy asked.

"Wavy brown hair -- he had it pulled back in a pony tail with a silver clasp. Down past his shoulders. Wore all black. Very fair skinned. You girls would probably think he was good looking." Clark said.

Buffy said, "Doesn't sound like anyone I know. Probably just curious about the fight. What happened to the other vampire?"

"She got away," Clark said, with his fingers crossed. He didn't feel like having a discussion about the nature of vampires with Buffy just yet; he wanted to prove his theories first. He got the impression he'd be here for awhile until they gathered the materials needed to send him home.

* * * * *

Dinner was somewhat strained, though he managed to make casual conversation with Willow and Buffy over pepperoni pizza. He found out that Buffy did an amazing ditzy blond act, and she did it often enough that he thought it was something of a cover for her nocturnal activities. Who would suspect a bubbly Valley girl of being anything other than a cute airhead?

Or maybe it wasn't entirely an act. As she relaxed a bit in his presence more of the ditz appeared. Maybe this was the real Buffy. She was, truthfully, a bit hard to figure.

Willow was friendly to both him and Lois -- he suspected she was innately friendly. She was someone who cared about what others thought. A nice woman, overall, though he'd seen her slay a vampire without even hesitating in the fight earlier.

Lois was prickly and silent, though Willow occasionally got a polite response out of her. She also kept glancing his way with curiosity that he didn't entirely feel comfortable with. This was Lois, just not his Lois, though somewhere out there he hoped there was a Clark for her. He didn't want her attracted to him; it would only lead to trouble. He did hope she'd count him as a friend before they left. This was going to be a fine balancing act.

He was on his fourth slice of pizza when a distant scream caught his attention. He didn't even think about his reaction; he simply stood up and said, "I've got to use the men's room. I'll be right back, ladies."

It only took a second to spin into the Suit in the alley behind the pizza place. He was airborne in a heartbeat, zooming between skyscrapers and down an alley, following a trail of terrified screams. He was almost on top of the attack when he realized the person screaming was a man. Despite the speed of his rescue the screams cut off as he came around the corner.

He only had a heartbeat to see that a vampire was crouched over a man. The man was slumped against a wall, not moving.

Clark barreled into the vampire and knocked her flying. Horrified, he pinned her down with one hand and stared at the man's face. Blood poured in a crimson cascade down the young man's chest. His breath bubbled in his throat. And he looked achingly, alarmingly, familiar.

"Jimmy?" Clark breathed. A Jimmy who was ten years older, but definitely and indisputably *Jimmy.*

He stared down at the vampire in his hands. He had to do it. He had to kill it. Then he had to take Jimmy to the hospital, immediately.

The vampire stared up at him. The monstrous face disappeared and he realized that this was the vampire he'd let go earlier. She was young, just a girl ... she was crying, great tears of terror. He couldn't do it.

He froze, unable to let her go to kill someone else, unable to go to Jimmy -- and paralyzed with the knowledge that this was his fault. Buffy had told him vampires were monsters; he'd not believed it and now Jimmy was laying in a pool of his own blood, throat torn out, and it was his fault.

"Are you going to kill that vampire or not?" A voice said, richly accented British, above him. He looked up, startled, as a man dropped off a fire escape next to him. It was the pony tailed stranger from earlier.

"My ... Jimmy ..." Clark couldn't quite form words. He couldn't think. He realized he was gaping like an utter fool.

The man gave him a disgusted look and stripped out of his black t-shirt. He wadded it against Jimmy's throat then said, "Bloody hell. Where's Buffy?"

"Back ... at the restaurant ... I think." Clark said.

"This guy needs to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. You think you can fly him there? I saw you land." The man sighed. He offered, "I'll deal with Tootsie there."

"Uh, yeah," Clark shoved the vampire at the man, who caught her neatly, produced a stake seemingly from thin air, and dusted her, all in one smooth move. Clark's stomach churned at what he'd just done. He'd caused the creature's death by giving her to the man. And his stomach rolled more at what his previous actions had caused.

Clark grabbed Jimmy up -- this world's Jimmy, not his Jimmy, but the difference was academic -- and leaped skyward. Jimmy's body was cold against his, and blood soaked through the t-shirt and covered his hands. It took him barely ten seconds to get Jimmy to the closest hospital and deposit him on a stretcher in the hotel's emergency room. Ten more seconds to explain to a very startled nurse that Jimmy had been bitten by "something." Ten more seconds to return to the alley.

The man was walking away, thumbs in his jeans pocket, bare chest very pale in the dark of the alley. He was rail thin and his chest bore burn scars. Clark landed next to him and said, shortly, "Who are you?"

"Nobody important." The man shrugged. His lips quirked up in a mocking smile. "Who are you, Spandex Man?"

"They call me Superman."

"I imagine Buffy does, at any rate," the man said, with a snort of amusement. "She always knew how to pick them. Still, you're probably an improvement over Peaches. And the Immortal. And Soldier Boy."

"I'm not," Clark said. "I'm not in any kind of relationship with Miss Summers."

He was suddenly nauseated by the realization that if Jimmy died it was his fault. He barely heard the man as he continued to speak, "What sort of demon are you, anyway? I've never heard of anything like you."

"I'm not a demon," he said, dimly. His pizza was threatening to come back up in reaction to what he'd caused. "I'm from another planet."

The man's eyebrows went up. "Explains your fashion sense, anyway. Well, chum, I've got to be going. See you around."

Clark could have followed him between two buildings if he'd wanted to, but he didn't. He didn't know what to do, frankly; had he been home, he'd have called his parents, or Lois, and spilled his grief and guilt in their laps. But he wasn't home. He was desperately alone here.

* * * * *

Clark didn't sleep much that night after returning to Lois' apartment; he woke after a very brief nap on the couch and spent most of the night sitting on Lois' balcony, staring out at a city that was achingly familiar yet painfully not his own. The skyline was almost the same. The rules were very different.

He sat watching a sunrise on a world not his own and he mulled over his encounter with the stranger. The man had obviously known a great deal about monsters and demons in this world because he'd commented that he'd never seen anything like Clark. Who -- or, in this world, *what,* was he? He couldn't ask Buffy without giving away his rescue.

With a sudden and belated cold stab of fear he realized that the stranger *knew who he was.* Or, at least, he knew that Clark and Superman were one and the same. Because he'd assumed that Superman was in a relationship with Buffy (and why had he assumed that?) and he'd never seen Superman with Buffy. He'd only seen Clark with Buffy.

How in the world had he figured that out? Clark had never had anyone figure the secret out like that.

And was Jimmy going to be okay?

Clark had resisted the urge to return to the hospital as himself or as Superman. This world didn't have a Superman and his appearance as Superman would generate more questions than he was currently willing to answer. Appearing as himself would be inexplicable given that Jimmy didn't know him in this universe -- unless, by some miracle, Jimmy and this world's Clark did know each other. And if people here assumed he was the other Clark that could cause a different sent of complications.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, under his glasses, then took them off to wipe away smudges. When the balcony door slid open next to him he reacted with instinct, jamming the glasses back onto his nose and leaping to his feet.

Buffy blinked at his sudden movement. She was dressed in flannel pajamas and only looked half awake, though he noted she'd reacted to his motion with a defensive crouch. This was a woman who'd fought hard and long much of her life. She straightened and relaxed when he merely stood looking at her. "Good morning."

"Uh. Morning." He failed to see what was good about it.

"Willow's making breakfast. Are you hungry?" Buffy yawned.

He wasn't, but he'd eat to be polite. "Yeah, sure."

"You've been out here all night. Are you okay?" She sounded concerned.

"I ... this isn't my world. I'm needed at home." he confessed.

She gave him a sympathetic look. "We're going to hit some shops around town for some of the supplies we need to send you home. They're cheaper here than in Cleveland; something about less demand for things away from a Hellmouth. Do you want to come?"

He nodded, and followed her into the apartment. Lois was awake, barely, staring moodily at the enormous TV hanging on her wall. Willow was making pancakes. Giles was reading a paper.

He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the kitchen counter. Without thinking, he made Lois a cup also, and set it down beside her. She looked up at him, surprised, "What's this?"

"You look beat. You were up until about two AM working on your novel." He calculated she'd had about four hours of sleep.

"You were up all night too," she pointed out.

"I slept a couple of hours. Homesick, mostly," he shrugged.

She sipped the coffee, and gave him an approving smile. "The other Lois takes her coffee the same way?"

He nodded.

"What's she like?"

He grinned, he couldn't help it. Lois' eyes narrowed; clearly, that grin had given something away. He said, "We've been friends for years."

"More than friends." She glanced at the ring on his finger.

"Friends first. Married, later," he admitted. He hadn't wanted to, it could complicate things, but she'd asked. And he couldn't lie to her -- couldn't lie to either of them -- anymore. That inevitably complicated things even more than telling the truth.

"I'm not her," she said, shortly, and he sensed her defenses coming up. She set the coffee down.

"No. You're not." He sipped his coffee and spoke carefully, not wanting to spook her. "I miss her; I cannot wait to return home to her. She's the center of my world."

"I hope she knows how lucky she is," Lois said, relaxing.

"I'm incredibly lucky to have her." Clark said, softly.

Lois said with a short and bitter laugh, "Then she's definitely not me!"

By implication, she was saying that nobody would be lucky to have *her.* Clark winced and put his hand out instinctively, covering Lois' fingers on the table. "Don't say that. There's someone out there for you too."

"Bah. I've never bought the whole soulmate-for-everyone crap. I've got a nasty temper, an arrogant streak, and a bad attitude. A man would have to be a saint to live with me." Lois pulled her hand free from his, and stood up, discussion evidently at an end. She walked into her living room where she changed the TV channel to LNN.

"... Olsen, owner of Olsen Publishing, is in stable condition after an apparent attack by some kind of wild animal. Doctors are not certain if he'll make it. A mystery surrounds his arrival at the hospital; a strange man, wearing a blue costume, delivered him to the emergency room as you can see in this video ..."

Clark stood up, fists balling, thinking *he's stable,* as the news story switched to grainy surveillance camera footage. Superman charged through the doors, dropped Jimmy on a stretcher, and ran out again.

"Jimmy's my editor ..." Lois said, sitting down hard on the couch. "Oh, God. I wonder what he tangled with?"

"Vampire, probably. Who's the guy in the tights?" Buffy asked.

Lois picked up a remote labeled "TIVO" and, to Clark's surprise, rewound and then froze the image of Superman on the screen. "Nobody I know."

"Lousy fashion sense," Buffy snorted, to Clark's chagrin. "He looks like a clown in that outfit, or a nine year old who's mother made the costume for Halloween."

"Ah, he hardly looks like a nine year old, Buffy," Lois said, a ghost of a smile touching her lips.

"True." Buffy paused the image. "He's definitely all male."

Willow said lightly, "Down girl. Down."

Buffy said, "Buffy see hot male demon. Buffy want hot male demon."

Willow swatted her friend on the arm. "Cut it out. You're scaring me."

"Wonder if he's the one who hurt Jimmy?" Lois sounded dangerous when she said that. "Jimmy's one of the few decent people in this city. He's just an ordinary guy. I'm going to kill whoever or whatever hurt him. Slowly. Painfully ..."

"I doubt Superman was the culprit," Clark said, finding his voice.

"*Superman*?" Lois said, incredulously. "That's the Superman you mentioned?"

"Yeah. That's him." Clark spoke very carefully. He was treading on thin ice here; these people were smart, they were used to dealing with the unnatural and superhuman, and he was scared they were going to figure out who or what he was. The excrement would hit the fan if they found out he'd lied to them about Superman. When he found the other Clark things might get even more interesting.

"Arrogant bastard, to go by that handle," Lois growled.

Clark didn't think now was the time for humor, given Lois' revelation that she knew Jimmy -- and probably knew him fairly well. But he said mildly, "Superman didn't name himself. My Lois named him because he didn't have a name and they needed to call him something in the paper. The costume's deliberately bright; he's actually a pretty humble guy. He just wanted something really noticeable for the costume so people wouldn't associate Superman with him in real life."

Lois snorted. "I can't believe I'd call anyone Superman."

He shrugged and said, "Do you want to go visit Olsen?"

Lois swallowed hard. When she looked at him her eyes were suspiciously bright. "I'm not family. I don't think they'd let me in."

"So sneak in," he said, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world to do. His Lois wouldn't even have hesitated. "Besides, Jimmy in my world doesn't have any family."

"You know him?" She said, surprised. "And no, he doesn't have any family here, either. He hasn't spoken to his father in years; his mother died when he was a kid. Only child."

"Yeah," Clark said. Guilt threatened to swallow him whole. "We're good friends in my world. You should go."

"So tell me about this Superman," Buffy said, conversationally, as she watched the tape play through again on about the third rewind. At some point she'd claimed the remote from Lois.

"He's from the planet Krypton," Clark said, promptly. This was safe territory. "He's got superhuman speed -- he can break the sound barrier in flight -- and is pretty much invulnerable to injuries. His body's much denser than human ...

*Let's not tell anyone in this world about Kryptonite. With any luck the only person in this world who will know about that is Clark himself when I find him.*

He gave a brief, wholly accurate, and clinical description of Superman's abilities. Buffy listened quietly, but her joking demeanor quickly faded and he sensed she was extremely unhappy. Giles, behind her, was looking a bit constipated. Willow was frowning. When he was done, it was Willow who spoke first.

"What about magic?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, wary.

"Can he be harmed by magic?" Willow asked, bluntly. The four of them exchanged glances.

"Superman," Clark said, very distinctly and carefully, "Is a force of good."

"Yes, and what you just described is a man with the powers of a God. Power corrupts, Clark," Buffy scowled at the screen and replayed the brief image again. "The last time I went up against a God I got killed and a bunch of people got hurt."

Willow agreed with an exceedingly grim tone in her voice. "I know all too well how corrupting power like that can be. It's addicting, worse than any chemical drug out there. Will magic hurt him?"

"I honestly have no idea," Clark admitted. "But I don't think it's going to be an issue, except, maybe, if Superman comes up against black magic of some kind. He'll be on your side."

*One hopes,* Clark thought, quietly, to himself. He still hadn't found the other Clark.

He realized Buffy had said something a little odd with belated curiosity. "Killed you?"

"Her name was Glory," Buffy said, giving Clark a look that seared. He'd seen unexpected pain in those eyes, and soul-deep wounds which had not and might never fully heal. "The powers you describe are remarkably similar to what she had. I ... they brought me back. From heaven. Later. Because they needed me. But yeah, she killed me. I'm not afraid of death again, but I am terrified of a force that powerful loose in the world."

Clark said with as much assurance as he could muster in his voice, "Superman will *not* be a villain, Buffy. He'll be an ally. You'll see."

"It would have been nice to have someone like that on your side when you were fighting Glory, Lois." Lois pointed out, with some optimism in her voice.

Buffy said shortly, and with something that sounded like exasperation, "Clark, I hope you're right. I don't need another Big Bad in my life right now."

* * * * *

Elsewhere in the city, Bobby Bigmouth looked up as a woman entered his restaurant. His brows rose in surprise at her appearance. She was tall, thin, and, well, blue. She had blue highlights in her hair, blue eyes -- and not in any normal shade of blue, those had to be contacts -- and some sort of armored body suit as well. It was a rusty red color though he didn't think it was metal. It looked like the carapace on a beetle.

She walked right up to him and said shortly, "I understand you know things."

"Sometimes. But there's a price." He grinned at her.

With lightning speed she reached over the counter, grabbed him by the lapels, and yanked him airborne. He found himself suspended in the air at arm's length. Belatedly, he realized she wasn't human -- probably one of those demons he tried hard to avoid. Demons were trouble. He only dealt with humans if he could help it.

"Hey, easy!" He protested.

"I'm looking for a Key."

"I know a bunch of good locksmiths. I can get you any key you want! Special deal for a pretty lady. I'll get it for you free. Just ... put ... me down...." His heart was pounding wildly in his chest.

"Not a mortal Key, you insignificant gnat," she tossed him casually to the ground and stood towering over him. Bobby was aware that most of the restaurant's patrons were hastily leaving. "I seek a Key to open doors between time and space. I understand you know things. Where is a Key such as this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, lady. Now, if you want to know who's going to win tonight's boxing match between Gonzales and Albert the Giant, I can tell you that. The match is rigged, I tell you, rigged ..."

"Pah. Useless man." She kicked him with so much force that he flew backwards into the wall. He *heard* his ribs crunch and his arm snap. Pain. Agony. Oblivion.

The blue-haired woman stood motionless in the middle of the restaurant for several minutes before walking to the door. The door said "Pull." She pushed at it. When it failed to open, she tore it off its hinges, casually tossed it aside, and walked without concern for a block before she suddenly and unexpectedly morphed into a rail-thin and somewhat mousy human woman.

"I will find more on the internet," she said, grimly. "I must find a Key to open the portals to what was. What is now is most unsatisfactory."