This is my own version of an alternate beginning for Lois and Clark. You can call that an elseworld story. I'm almost a little surprised that I wrote one. I'm usually not to keen on elseworld stories. So this one is apart from a change in Clark's history mostly dealing with the familiar characters.
Disclaimers as usual...I don't own these characters and I don't plan on earning money with them.
Special thanks to my beta-reader 
LaraMoon who send that back to me so fast that I'm still very impressed. Secret Fears
Clark Kent enjoyed one of those rare moments between sleep and wakefulness. It was the time when he wasn’t really asleep but also hadn’t woken up yet. These brief, little, precious minutes were full of the loveliest dreams. This place was too narrow for grief and sorrow. He didn’t need to worry about belonging or being different. These few seconds or minutes were all his. Since he didn’t know when he had to leave this refuge or when he would have the chance to come back to it again, he drank in as much of it as possible.
Right now he dreamt of finally finding his destination, or to be more precise - about having found it. The woman he searched for didn’t have a face yet. She was more a presence than a real being. Had he been awake, Clark would have sadly dismissed the thought of ever finding the woman to love in this rough world. He had almost lost hope of falling in love with the perfect girl. It just wasn’t possible, not for someone like him. Who would accept him the way he was? Who wouldn’t be afraid of him? Was there anyone he could trust with the truth?
But that wasn’t important right now, because in his dreams his lips were captured in a wonderful kiss. Soft hands were trailing down his chest, stroking it and lips were placing kisses on it. He was aware of every movement of these silky hands and something landed on his stomach, making him gasp.
Clark opened his eyes, wide-awake now. He was welcomed with a warm, beautiful smile.
“Good morning, pumpkin,” he murmured, his voice still a little drowsy, and smiled back into dark brown eyes.
“Good morning, daddy.” Becca replied, hugging Clark, who embraced the little girl.
“I told you not to call me dad, Rebecca,” Clark admonished her playfully.
“I didn’t call you dad, I said daddy,” she protested.
“Rebecca!”
“Okay, I won’t do it again…daddy!” Becca promised.
It was a game between them that they played almost each morning. The little seven-year-old whirlwind didn’t get tired of it. It had started when Clark had tried to convince her that she should call him Clark instead of daddy, because he wasn’t really her father. Becca knew that, but she refused to obey him in this case. She had started to make it a morning ritual between them, instead. Calling her Rebecca was a vital part of it. Clark almost never called her Rebecca. When he did it and it wasn’t playful, she knew at once that she had done something bad.
“Come here, you!” he turned her around so that she was lying on her back and started to tickle her. Becca giggled and tried to struggle free under Clark’s soft grip. Clark laughed and released her. “How about breakfast?”
“Sounds good,” she replied.
Clark got up and walked over to the kitchen, while Becca cuddled into his still warm pillows. The new apartment was spacious. They had just moved in the day before and it was still full of brown boxes with an enormous amount of things. Most of them were Becca’s as Clark claimed. Becca on the other hand insisted stubbornly that nearly all of them belonged to Clark. So they hadn’t agreed yet as to who was going to unpack them.
Clark had never been happier with an apartment. It was bright and after Clark had renovated, it was also very homey. There was a bathroom and the living room and bedroom were separated. A spiral staircase let to another room Rebecca had chosen as hers. It was barely believable that of all places he had found a flat in Metropolis that offered Becca a room of her own. Most of the time she had had her bed within his room. It had been okay for her, but now that she was growing older, he felt that she needed her privacy. And there was another room they both didn’t really know how to use.
In the kitchen Clark started preparing breakfast. He fried eggs and made coffee for himself and milk for Becca. He placed jam and bread on the table – all made the good old-fashioned way. He liked to see things develop and if he had time, he didn’t use super-powers. So it took some time till everything was ready. When Clark sat down at the table, Becca came to join him.
“Isn’t there something that you miss?” she asked sadly.
“Oh, yes, the coffee. It’s so much better in Europe.” Clark sighed.
“Daddy, I’m serious!” Becca complained.
“I’m serious, too, pumpkin,” Clark replied with a boyish grin. “Oh, Becky, I know how much you hate to travel constantly. I know it’s my fault. But you’ll find friends here in no time, I promise, honey. And I’ll really do my best that this won’t happen again so soon here in Metropolis. It’s a huge city. One more freak doesn’t actually count, does he?”
“You’re not a freak, daddy,” Becca stated firmly. “Just why do you have to do these things all the time. I thought you could control them.”
“Why did I have to have this nice little chat with the mother of that girl you’ve bullied on that playground back in Plymouth?” Clark returned the question.
“Because I couldn’t stand there and watch while she was hurting the baby-boy!”
Clark grinned at her words inwardly. The “baby-boy” had been five years old and barely younger than Becca.
“And I can’t stand there and watch when people around me are in trouble and I know I can help,” Clark explained.
“I know, daddy. It’s just…” she hesitated briefly, unsure what to say. “I want to stay somewhere for more than half a year.”
Clark winced. That had been his mother’s words and Becca was repeating them. It added to his bad conscience.
“There are a lot advantages in the USA. Your grandparents are far closer and we can fly there over the weekends.” Clark hadn’t dared to take Becca on a real quick flight, so they had needed hours to get from Europe to the USA. It hadn’t been possible to visit his parents for such a short time as only the weekend. Becca’s smile was small and hardly visible, even for Clark. “I promise you that we won’t move again so fast.” He only hoped that he would able to keep his promise. It wasn’t exactly the first time that he had made it and each time they had arrived at a new place, he had failed to grant Becca her greatest wish of finally finding a home.
“What are we going to do today, daddy?” Becca asked curiously.
“I have an interview with the Daily Planet’s editor-in-chief.” Clark replied and tried to hide that he was worrying about that. He was short on money since he had rented the apartment. The landlord had asked for deposit and there wasn’t much left for the two of them. He really hoped that he was getting that job. He was only eating breakfast with Rebecca to show her that everything was all right when it wasn’t. He only hoped that his little act worked and Becca didn’t notice anything until he was earning enough money for both of them.
“And what about me?” she wanted to know. He could hear her disappointment, because she might have expected him to take her out somewhere. Clark really wished that he could do that instead of leaving her alone. Well, she wouldn’t be exactly alone.
“Don’t you remember, honey? Grandma and Grandpa wanted to spend a few days in Metropolis. They will come over soon and take you to whatever you want to see in the big city.” A smile appeared on her face. As much as Becca loved days with Clark, she adored her grandparents. Days with them were equally special. Her mood lightened up and she had that air of expectation around her.
“That’s going to be great!” she exulted enthusiastically.
* * *
An hour later, Clark was on his way to the Daily Planet and he was sick to his stomach. Had he ever been so nervous? His future literally depended on this job and neither his parents nor Becca knew that. Normally he would have told his parents about his problems. But Clark could clearly remember his mother’s speech when he had decided to be Becca’s father. She had told him that it was risky and not easy to integrate in his life. Not only because he was young, he was also different. It had been about the first time that his mother had brought that argument. Usually she avoided making him feel like anything but her beloved son. They had been right in many ways and Clark had been aware of the problems. Nonetheless, he had decided to go down the rocky way and raise Becca himself like he had promised her mother.
His parents respected that and of course understood that a young father and nice grandparents might be a better choice for Becca than old parents and a frequently traveling brother. It had been a difficult problem and of course there wasn’t a simple solution to it. In the end they had agreed to grant Becca’s mother her last wish and let Clark be the father.
But Clark hated to admit that he was suffering from the downsides of the decision. He loved Becca like she actually was his daughter. He didn’t want to miss a single day with her. But he truly hated not being able to offer her a completely stable life. So far he hadn’t gotten into trouble with the authorities though that was a constant fear in his life. When Becca had been orphaned, the youth welfare office had respected the mother’s last will. Clark had had to undergo a psychological examination. When they had found that he was mature enough to take the responsibility, they had gritted their teeth and agreed to leave the little girl with Clark. They had frequently checked on Becca and hadn’t found a reason to take her away from him so far. But how long would that work?
Clark wanted to send Becca to school now. He had been her teacher at home before and her progress had been good. Becca could read, write and calculate. She knew things about history and nature. They had visited a lot of things during their classes. One of the reasons for home schooling had been that he was afraid Becca would let his secret slip unintentionally. But she had understood how important it was to keep it and he wanted to give her the opportunity to make friends. When she was in school he would be able to earn more money. That had been difficult at times.
Clark looked up and saw the majestic symbol of the Daily Planet. His heart began to beat even faster, if that was possible. It thundered in his ears and he felt his knees grow weak. The globe was the symbol of all his hopes and it seemed to call him. Walking over to the building caused a strange feeling of coming home in him. But that didn’t make him feel better at all; he just became more and more nervous. A home he didn’t know wasn’t comforting him. When he reached the big entrance his trembling hands wandered over to the handles and he opened the door. His hesitation was only brief before he swallowed hard and gathered all his courage to make the first step into the building.
His gut screamed to run away and to escape the stress of the interview that lay before him. But consciously he knew it was important that he went on and ignored his anxiety. Clark stepped over to the elevators and waited for the lift to arrive. With a couple of people he entered the elevator and as the doors closed he noticed that this was the point of no return. The first halt was the floor where the newsroom was situated. When the elevator reached it, Clark stepped out.
The newsroom was busy. A few dozen people were running around or were frantically typing stories into their computers. Others were calling people, chatting with them on the phone. It was loud and crowded, obviously chaotic and strangely organized at the same time. Maybe it was comparable with a bee hive. The bees seemed to be flying around without destination, but that was only the shallow view of it. They were highly organized and so was the Daily Planet. The queen bee, which was male in this case, sat in the center of interest. The office of the editor-in-chief was across the room. From there, Mr. White saw and heard everything.
Clark stepped down the ramp and was on the same level with the newsroom now. He walked through the reporters and felt very exposed though only some of them were really watching him. It was somehow like the dream where he went to school naked. But Clark tried to blind out his uneasiness and walked over to Mr. White’s office. Searching for his last amount of courage, he lifted his hand and knocked.
“Yes?” the voice of an obviously stressed man replied.
Clark opened the door a little. “Mr. White? I’m Clark Kent. I have an appointment for an interview with you,” he said shyly. His mouth was dry.
“Kent?” Mr. White repeated and kept silent for a moment as if he was trying to remember the name. “Yeah, I know. Professor Carlton called me. He told me a lot of good things about you. Okay, so come in Mr. Kent.”
Clark opened the door a little further and stepped into the office. There were some pictures of Elvis and the desk looked as if its owner was a really busy man. Clark closed the door behind him and went over to the editor-in-chief. He shook his hand and took a seat as Mr. White invited him to do so.
“What was the last paper you worked for?” Mr. White started the interview.
“The Devon Chronicle,” Clark replied.
“I see…” Mr. White said, not hiding a certain disappointment. Clark assumed that it was because he hadn’t written for the London Times. “And before that?”
Clark decided that it was the easiest to hand Mr. White his portfolio with a few examples of his work. Mr. White took it and began to skim through the articles.
“Smallville Press…Borneo Gazette…” he murmured and looked at the other articles silently. “There’s not a single famous newspaper within there.” Mr. White shook his head sadly. “And the articles…the mating ritual of a gecko? As much as I’d like to help you Mr. Kent, the Daily Planet needs reporters with more experience. They should be able to deal with affairs of international interest. With…” Mr. White didn’t manage to finish his sentence. A young man stormed into the office.
“Chief, I’ve fixed your toaster!” he announced.
“Jimmy!” Mr. White barked. “Not now.”
“But…,” Jimmy tried again.
“I told you to return later!” Perry impatiently waved at Jimmy to leave. Right behind him a young woman entered the office.
For a brief moment time stood still. She was obviously furious, incredible and awesome. Her beauty was earth shattering, making Clark’s jaw drop instantly as he saw her. She was telling Mr. White something and it had to be an argument. But Clark didn’t hear the words; he just saw the movements of her delicate lips. Her gestures were strong enough to involve her whole body. Her eyes were like dark brown honey and they gleamed with an intense fire. She had the single most amazing heart beat he had ever heard. This woman had an air of courage and determination around her that fascinated Clark just as much as her outer appearance. He knew at once that he wanted to get acquainted with her. He wouldn’t give up until he knew the secrets under her surface. And a vague inkling told him that he would be totally addicted to her before he even got that knowledge.
When time went on, the lady vanished out of the office and left a very bemused Clark Kent. After what seemed like ages he used all his willpower to close his mouth and to return his attention to Mr. White. The editor-in-chief was still working through the articles.
“Well, they’re good writing, Mr. Kent. It seems that you’ve traveled a lot.”
Clark nodded. ”I know that I don’t have much experience with big newspapers and politics. But if you give me a chance, I promise you to work hard and do my best. You wouldn’t be disappointed.” He added in a low voice.
Clark so much needed this job, but he didn’t feel like begging for it. His heart was again beating rapidly. Or was it still beating rapidly? Clark wouldn’t have been able to tell. All he knew was that he prayed silently. He didn’t want to return home unemployed. He had held a lot of jobs during the past years and it hadn’t always been writing for newspapers. Clark knew that he would find something, but Metropolis was expensive and he would have to have a lot of jobs to offer Becca the life she deserved. Since junior high all he had wanted to be was a journalist. It was important for both Becca and himself that he got this job. The Daily Planet was for him what Mount Everest was for Reinhold Messner. The only difference was that Messner had already climbed to the top.
“I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you, Mr. Kent. You can’t expect me to give someone with almost no references a job at one of the world’s most important newspapers.” Perry devastated all Clark’s hopes. “I hope, you understand. I’m sorry, Mr. Kent.”
Weakly, Clark shook the editor’s hand. Inwardly he screamed that he didn’t understand and that he thought Mr. White was a damn snob. He was disappointed and furious and Clark knew that this could turn out into something horrible. He mumbled a good-bye and left the office, straightly heading for the elevators to escape the Planet. An incredible weight seemed to press him down to the floor. It was something that was even too heavy for him to carry. How was he going to explain this to Becca and his parents?
But that wasn’t exactly the problem. They would understand, because not every interview could be successful. They would encourage him to try again by the Metropolis Star or any other newspaper. Neither of them understood the real meaning of this. Clark Kent was on his way to lose the constant battle that he had led since he had taken over responsibility for Becca. It was the first time in years that he quarreled with fate. Why had Lily asked so much of him? Why had she trusted him with Becca? Clark was running out of luck and he was going to disappoint his parents. He would lose Becca. The worst pain of all was disappointing her. She loved him unconditionally. What had she told him this morning? *You’re not a freak, daddy* Clark winced at the memory. He hadn’t told her, but her words had meant the world to him. In fact, he hadn’t even noticed that himself, then. But now he was awfully aware of it.
To distract himself from the misery that had washed over him, Clark allowed himself a last look at that beautiful woman. He heard her heart beat which sent pleasant shivers through his spine. She was still furious about something and this time she told the young man, whom Mr. White had called Jimmy. Clark listened and noticed that her voice was soft and warm underneath the anger.
“Do you believe it? Perry has assigned me that touchy-feely theater story. What’s the news on that? Theaters are closed every day. That’s not going to win me a Kerth. I’m an investigative reporter, I’m not writing gossip.” She looked over to another woman that was dressed as if she was constantly hunting down men. The face of the fascinating beauty conveyed contempt.
“Hey, Lois. Calm down a bit and please don’t bite my head off. It’s not my fault. And if I were you, I would rather write that piece than get into trouble with Perry,“ Jimmy replied.
Lois shook her head. “I’m not going to write this piece. Let Perry do the table dance or whatever.” She went away from Jimmy and returned to her desk. Clark watched her leave.
“Don’t even think about it!” someone said. Clark returned to the present, startled. He looked into Jimmy’s young, smiling face.
“Think of what?” Clark asked and shook hands with Jimmy.
“Lois Lane. I don’t recall anyone of the staff members asking her out and being able to tell the story. She doesn’t date with other reporters.” Jimmy explained. “I’m Jimmy Olsen.”
“Clark Kent. Well, unfortunately I’m not a staff member,” Clark replied.
“Oh, I hope that’s not my fault, “Jimmy said sympathetically and as Clark shook his head, he continued. “ Anyway, that won’t help either. Rumors are that she doesn’t date at all. At least Cat constantly claims that.”
“What’s that theater story about?” Clark inquired.
“You heard?” Jimmy asked surprised.
“In Mr. White’s office,” Clark said quickly. That was a lie. He hadn’t heard a word of the argument in the editor’s office. But he could hardly tell Jimmy that. However, he had convinced the younger man. Jimmy told him what he wanted to know. When Clark left the office after their little chat, his mind was a little less depressed. He had a plan.
