This section is a lot longer than previous parts I've posted. It technically includes parts 40 (The End) and 41 (The Epilogue). There's a natural break about ten pages in, at the end, but I really wanted you all to be able to read the epilogue right after finishing the story - so I decided to post it all as one part.
Thank you all for all of the comments and encouragement you've given me as I wrote and posted this - particularly for the ones I lost after the crash. As I said in the reposted FDK folder, those comments were wonderfully eloquent, and I wish I'd saved them.
And many, many, many thanks go to LabRat, who has BR'd this entire story for me. We think I've beat her record for the longest story
- my master copy is 1.9MB.
---
From part 39:
“Perry –“ she began, unsure what she wanted to say.
He held up his hand, and she fell silent. “Why don’t you kids take off?” he asked them blandly. “This looks good. I’ll send it on, and then I’ll get outta here too.”
She and Clark looked at each other, then at Perry. “Um…” she began, but he waved her words away.
“Go on, you two. Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He picked up his phone, punched in an extension, and returned his attention to their story. “Harry. I’ve got the new lead story – it’s a go. I’m sending it down to you now. Get those presses running…”-----
The Girl Next Door, part 40:
<Are you all right, Lois?> They’d opted to walk back to Clark’s place, knowing that they could fly if they changed their minds, but happy for now to just amble along together.
It was pretty late – or maybe a better term was that it was pretty early, since it was now well after midnight. It was the time of night where, even in a city as big as Metropolis, the streets were almost deserted.
So they didn’t really have to worry that someone might overhear them.
They were using telepathy anyway – mostly, simply because they could. Having made the breakthrough, they were finding that they could turn the telepathy on and off without any more effort than it took to speak. And it felt… more intimate, somehow, to be conversing this way in an otherwise silent night.
<I’m okay, Clark.>
He glanced down at her as they walked along, and she felt compelled to repeat it. <Seriously, Clark - I’m fine.> She paused for a moment, considering. <I feel…> She felt pretty good, actually. She looked up at him with a slight smile. <I feel good.>
He smiled down at her, covering the hand she had tucked into his arm with his own free hand. <And so you should - you just saved a whole convention’s worth of people.> He stopped, turning to face her. As her hand left his arm to rest on his chest, he framed her face with his hands and kissed her, gently and sweetly. “And you saved me,” he whispered, his breath brushing her lips.
She moved in to him, hugging him close for a moment, and felt his arms go tightly around her. She rested her head against his chest, his heartbeat strong and steady under her ear. “I’m glad you’re okay, Clark…” she said softly.
They stood that way for a few moments, and then she pulled back to look up at him. “Thank you for listening to me. For… for taking me seriously tonight, Clark.”
He looked back at her solemnly. “You’re welcome, Lois. I…” He sighed, shaking his head ruefully. “My first – and second – instincts were to just zoom in there and save the day. It’s what I – what Superman usually does. But you made me stop and… and really *think*. Stop and assess the situation in a way I’m just not used to doing.”
He took her hand again, tucking it into his bent arm before covering it with his own, and they resumed walking. “You *really* made me think, Lois,” he repeated, looking down at her again, and she watched the emotions play over his face. “Normally…”
He trailed off, and they walked along in silence for a few moments.
When he continued, his words were inside her head again, as if they were easier to express un-echoed in the stillness of the night. <Normally, Superman just sizes up the situation at a glance, then swoops in and… saves the day. Puts out the fire with his breath, or disarms the criminals, or stops the crime… Normally, there is no need to assess the risks to Superman – to myself.>
He stopped walking again suddenly, drawing her abruptly into his arms and holding her tightly against him. She could feel his heart beating against hers. He dropped his head, resting his cheek alongside hers, and his thoughts spilled raggedly into her mind. <And then, with you in danger, Lois…> He made a noise in his throat, a mute sound of distress, and seemed unable to go on.
She pressed even closer against him, one hand coming up to stroke into his hair and the other arm tightly around him. <I’m okay, Clark. And I was just as worried for you.>
Something in the tone of her thoughts seemed to help him regain some composure, because he loosened his grasp enough to allow her to look up at him.
<With you in danger, Lois,> he repeated, <I hardly wanted to even take the time for a first assessment.> His thoughts were like stones, each one heavy with the anguish he’d felt. <Superman almost lost it for a few moments, Lois – and that would have put us in more danger.>
He cupped her face again, staring into her eyes, and she looked straight into his soul. <So it is I who should be thanking you, Lois – for saving me from rashly putting you in further danger. For saving me – us - from myself. You were the true superhero here tonight, Lois.>
She gave a choked laugh that was one step away from tears. <I was so scared, Clark.> She sent the words like a whisper into his mind.
He dropped his forehead against hers for a moment, a moment that was broken by the sound of a taxicab swishing past on the otherwise empty street.
It recalled them to the night around them. He offered her his arm again, and she tucked her hand into its former spot as they resumed walking. <I know you were scared, Lois… But no more scared than I.>
She nodded. She’d felt his fear tonight.
<I was…> she started, and paused to marshal her thoughts.
He put his free hand over hers again in a warm caress, and she was able to continue. <I’ve been scared a lot in my life, you know, what with… Well, with all the powers, for instance, and no one to talk to – no one to help me figure it all out. But… well… I always had to get past that… to just get on with… whatever, you know?> She looked up at him again. <…If there’s a way to be scared but to… not have time to be scared, at the same time…> She sighed. <I’m not sure I can explain it,>
He drew his arm from hers and draped it over her shoulders, tucking her against his side. <You’re doing just fine, Lois.>
She slipped her own arm around his waist, under his tuxedo jacket where he was warm and solid. <But… tonight, I was more scared than I think I’ve ever been, Clark. I’ve usually been able to make quick decisions when I’m working on a story… quick decisions if my investigation takes me somewhere dangerous - like… like with the fire alarm on the space shuttle. And even when…> She hesitated.
He tightened his arm in a half hug, and she went on. <Even when Claude attacked me. I wasn’t… well, not… afraid – not like this. I knew that he couldn’t really hurt me - although I was thinking I’d have to expose my secret. Fortunately, Perry and Eduardo showed up in time. But tonight…> She drew in a deep breath, remembering. <…tonight was different.>
The breath hitched as she exhaled.
<I was afraid for… for the people I care about. Perry. Alice. Jimmy.> Her thoughts softened to the merest whisper of a touch inside his head. <And for you, Clark. I was… so afraid for you. I’d already seen what that green rock did to you. I was afraid it might… kill you. Or... that he would, as soon as you were vulnerable. And that…> She stopped, unable to go on.
He tipped his cheek to rest it on her head for a moment, slowing almost to a halt. <I know, love,> his thoughts washed over her gently. <I felt it. I felt what you were feeling.>
<I wasn’t really afraid for me,> she continued. <Not much, anyway… although I knew if Trask opened that box, I’d be affected. But even if I was affected, I was… anonymous. You know? He didn’t know about me.>
She looked up at him, and when he nodded, she continued, <But you – you were his target, Clark. He intended to kill you as soon as that stuff made you vulnerable. You’d have had no chance. And if he had opened that box, I’d have been unable to help you. To help anyone.>
<Not with super help, anyway,> he interjected. <You still would have come up with something, I think.> He paused for a beat. <In fact, you *did* come up with something else, Lois. You called 911, an extremely risky move under the circumstances, but the way you did it was very clever – and very effective.>
She hadn’t thought of that.
She considered it for a moment. <Maybe.> She smiled tentatively up at him. <I think… I guess you’re right. I did manage to call 911, didn’t I?>
They had reached his building, and he stopped on the doorstep and turned to face her, taking both of her hands in his and bringing them to his lips. He kissed the backs of her fingers before bringing their joined hands to rest over his heart. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her palms.
“Do you really understand what you did tonight, Lois?” he asked very softly. “*You* saved all those people. You saved me. And you did it using your super powers, like I do every time I put on the suit. But you also used… *you*, Lois. You, who you are – your brain, your wits. Your courage, your heart.” The last was breathed onto her lips as he kissed her almost reverently, still holding her hands against his heart.
“Superman would have crashed in at super speed, gambling that he could get that box,” he continued. “But you – not I - saw the danger in that approach.” He smiled ruefully. “Yes, we worked together, ultimately - but you were the one who figured out what would be safe, how I would react, what you had to do as far as preventing me from coming in… and you had the idea for melting the box. So instead of a ‘helper’ to my Superman – giving me a convenient excuse to get away and go be Superman – you’re the one who actually solved this crisis. Not me. Not Superman.”
She stared up at him as they stood just outside the door in the still night, digesting his words. “Yes,” she said finally. “I think… I think I understand now, Clark.” She stopped speaking, gazing up at him, searching his face, and saw everything he felt shining back at her. “I think I understand what you’ve been trying to tell me,” she said after a moment. “What you’ve been trying to tell me for a while now.”
“About who you are?” he asked softly. “That you’re already a superhero?”
“Yes. You said… that I already chose to do this, when I decided I would grow up to fight dragons. You said it wasn’t just super powers… and it wasn’t just words as a reporter. That it was me; my brain, my abilities – all of them, super and not.”
“And do you believe that now?”
She smiled softly at him. “Yes. I think… I think this was the last little bit of growing up I needed to do, Clark. The last little bit of growing into… me.”
And he had helped, with his support, his friendship, and his love. She’d been so lucky to find him. She smiled at that thought. And he thought that *he* was the lucky one. She stretched up and kissed him, trying to convey everything she felt.
He loosed her hands to slide his arms around her, pulling her against him as he responded to her kiss. She wreathed her arms around his neck, kissing him back freely and equally, deepening the kiss and shivering deliciously when he willingly followed her lead.
Eventually, she tipped her head against him, catching her breath as he rested his cheek on her hair, also breathing heavily. After a few moments, he seemed to recall that they were still standing on the doorstep of his building, and he pulled away from her and opened the door, ushering her inside.
They made their way slowly to the elevator, hand in hand but without speaking. When the doors closed behind them, she stepped forward into his arms, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him.
He kissed her back, and he did it so well that they didn’t notice that they’d arrived at the roof until the elevator doors slid closed again. Laughing, Clark hit the ‘door open’ button and they stepped out, then headed for his front door.
Once they were inside his apartment, he closed the door and turned to look at her, both of them still standing on the landing at the top of the short flight of steps down into the main room.
“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” he asked her seriously.
She smiled softly and shook her head. “Mad Dog Lane?”
He shook his head solemnly. “I see a woman, not only grown up and capable, respected at what she does, but a woman fulfilled as well. Able to use all of her unique talents – those of brain and of body – and self-confident with it. An equal to Superman, Lois. And an equal to me, Clark.” He smiled sweetly at her. “I saw you like this long ago, but now –“
He turned her gently so that they both faced the mirror on the wall near the door, and stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. She looked back at him out of the mirror.
“I see someone who finally believes it, too,” he finished simply.
---
“Will you stay here tonight?” he asked quietly. They were lying stretched out together on the couch. Lois lay tucked into the space between him and the back of the couch, her head resting on his chest as she listened to the steady beat of his heart, his arms wrapped around her.
She lifted her head to look at him. “Clark…”
“Not…” He hastened to reassure her. “I didn’t mean… Not for anything… Well, just to sleep, Lois. I’m… I just want you close tonight. Seeing you trapped in that madman’s presence… You can have my bed, and I’ll sleep here on the couch…” He trailed off when she laid a finger across his lips.
“Clark,” she said again, fighting a smile. It must be a Kryptonian thing, babbling, because he was as good at it as she was. Better, maybe.
“What I was going to say,” she continued, “was that it isn’t night anymore.” She nodded toward the windows, where the thin light of early dawn could be seen. Looking back at him, she let her smile have full rein. “So, yes, I’d like to spend Mr. Stern’s day of relaxation here with you, but couldn’t we just sort of… hang out here where we are right now? I kinda like it…”
By the time she finished speaking, he was grinning up at her and placing small kisses on her finger where it still rested on his lips.
She stroked across his lower lip and up along his jaw before threading her fingers into his hair. She felt him shiver against her as her fingers stroked through the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
“You’re a very persuasive woman, Ms. Lane,” he said in a dark and smoky voice, and tugged her farther up his chest until he could reach her lips.
---
She said softly, “When I think of all the time we wasted slogging through Dr Platt’s notes… Between us, we could have sped through them.” They were still lying on the couch together; she had her head on his chest again, listening to his heartbeat. It was a sound she would never tire of hearing.
Now she lifted her head, folded her arms on his chest and propped her chin on them, and smiled up at him.
“Oh, I don’t know…” He smiled back down at her, and brushed her hair gently behind one ear. “I don’t think the time was wasted. We got to know each other over those notes.” He tugged her upward until her mouth was within reach and kissed her.
She laughed softly. “If you say you fell in love with me over those notes…”
“Nope,” he said with utter sincerity. “I was already in love with you by then, Lois. I told you once before – I think I fell in love with you the moment I first saw you.”
She pulled back to look at him, propping herself on one elbow as she lay between him and the back of the couch. He *had* said that before, but she hadn’t thought he’d really meant it literally. “But I wasn’t very nice to you, Clark.”
“Lois…” He looked into her eyes. “You were… like a small island I saw once, in the middle of the Amazon River. It was like a sparkling jewel, all lush and green and just teeming with life - in the middle of that wide, brown, muddy water. Beautiful, intriguing, but so, so isolated. So unreachable by ordinary means, because it was in one of the deepest and widest parts of the river, where there are very strong currents.”
He lifted one hand and stroked a finger softly down her cheek. “That was how I saw you. So isolated and alone, but so, so appealing… And I knew I wanted to get to know you better. To find a raft, build a bridge - to somehow reach you. Because almost immediately upon meeting you, I could see flashes of who you really were behind those protective walls… And I loved what I saw.”
Moved, she was unable to speak. With a tremulous smile, she leaned forward and kissed him sweetly.
They traded several soft kisses before he pulled away slightly. “Of course, it didn’t hurt that you’re an incredibly beautiful woman,” he added with a grin.
She giggled, and suddenly he was kissing her again. And this time there was nothing light or teasing about it.
And as she kissed him back, she realized what was different about this kiss.
It was her – and the changes he’d wrought in her. There was no more hesitation. No more holding back. She’d faced the possibility that she could lose him - really lose him, to death. She’d been reminded that neither she nor he were immortal.
And having faced that, the risks of offering him her heart paled in comparison.
And he was offering her the gift of his love, freely given - not as a favor bestowed on her. His love was without conditions. And it was worth the risk of loss; she was finally free – gloriously free – to give her own love completely back to him. It was the kind of love that compelled her to make a commitment to him, that drove her to seek her future with this man.
To pledge herself to him.
To this man.
Clark.
She could trust him.
With her life, and with her love.
With her heart.
She shifted again, pushing herself upright and sitting back on her heels alongside him in the narrow confines of the couch, to face him. “Clark…”
He looked so good lying there, smiling up at her. She lost herself in simply admiring him for a few moments. She could have lost him tonight. If he’d rushed in despite her warnings… If Trask had opened that box…
His smile had faded as he gazed back at her, watching her emotions chase each other across her face. He, too, shifted so that he was sitting up, facing her.
“Lois?”
“Clark…” Her voice, husky with all she was feeling, was barely above a whisper. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” He searched her face. “I *love* you, Lois,” he repeated, and it sounded like a vow.
She smiled at him. “I know.” She reached out, and he grasped her hand firmly in his. “I do know it, Clark,” she repeated.
She tightened her grip on his hand, and he meshed their fingers together. She raised their joined hands, palm to palm, and pressed them against her heart. It was time to tell him what she’d learned. What she knew; what she wanted.
She took a deep breath. “Clark… Will you marry me?”
He stared at her for a millisecond before she saw the wonder and joy *bloom* across his face.
“*Yes*.” He smiled at her, a smile of such blinding love that she felt herself lose touch with gravity at the power of it. And even as she left the couch, even before her super reflexes could engage, he was on his feet and lifting her to twirl her around.
As she laughed down at him, hands on his shoulders, he laughed back up at her. “Yes! Yes. YesYesYes!”
Finally, he stopped, letting her slide slowly down his body. She shivered at the feeling of him against her, and when she was standing on her own feet in front of him she kept her arms linked around his neck in case her legs wouldn’t support her. Hands at her waist, he gazed down at her soberly, searching her eyes. “Are you sure, Lois? Really sure?”
And she smiled back at him with all her love shining from her eyes, and then laughed with joy as his feet helplessly left the floor, lifting both of them into the air. “Yes,” she said simply, and then had nothing else to say for quite some time.
---
The End
EPILOGUE:
-----
Lois woke slowly, only gradually aware that she was alone in the bed.
“Clark?” she mumbled.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he said in gentle amusement, and she opened her eyes to see him setting two mugs of coffee on the table beside the bed.
As she scootched into a sitting position, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, leaned forward to pick up one of the mugs and hand it to her, then kissed her slowly and sweetly over it as the fragrant steam wafted up around them. She didn’t need the coffee to start her day, of course – the caffeine didn’t affect either of them. But this simple ritual was an appealing way to wake up, and the kisses were the best part of it.
The coffee was wonderful, but Clark’s kisses were absolutely habit-forming.
She leaned against him, and they sat quietly together, sipping coffee, not talking – just content to be close to each other, listening to each other’s heartbeats as the city came awake around them.
They’d been married only a couple of months, but those months had been wonderful. That night at the convention center had been a turning point for her – for them. That night, she’d finally let go of her insecurities - let go of them all, and had felt free to love him unreservedly.
And ever since, it had been… like their unconstrained flight, the carefree and joyful dance in and among the clouds that night in the Kansas twilight.
This life dance – the joyful rhythm of their time together - was just as exciting, with its own swoops and dips and rolls, just as glorious as they rode the currents of their days.
Just as breathtaking; just as quiet.
Just as laughter-filled and just as solemn.
And their other dance – their dance in the night – it was just as exhilarating, the connection between them strong and deep and true. She hadn’t known how it could be - moving as one, slow and intense - full of passion and heat, soaring toward rapture without flight. They were two souls perfectly in tandem - two as one, their minds as entangled as their bodies. Clark with her and her with Clark, grounded only in their bodies - their minds and hearts and souls in flight.
She was recalled from her musing as he stirred finally, dropping another light kiss on her mouth, before leaning down toward the end of the bed and picking up a folded newspaper he must have brought into the bedroom with him. Opening it, he laid it in her lap, and she saw that the story they’d submitted the previous night had been allotted the entire upper half of the front page.
“Good morning, Kinetic,” he said softly, and she grinned at him.
CITY’S NEWEST SUPERHERO blared at her in big letters; underneath it, in smaller letters, was Metropolis: Meet Kinetic, Your Newest Superhero, by Lois Lane and Clark Kent.
Last night had been Kinetic’s first appearance in Metropolis - although it wasn’t actually the first time she’d appeared as Kinetic.
For the past month or two, she had been doing small rescues - in the disguise - in places where cameras and media were not readily available.
Testing it all out.
Practicing, in a way.
Learning.
Testing it out, this move from actions unseen and subtle to those which were overt and colorful.
Practicing changing – from regular clothing to the suit, and then from the suit back to regular clothing.
Practicing assessing each rescue situation – with Clark high and unseen in the clouds, but ready to lend a hand or a suggestion if she needed it.
And learning how effortless it all was, after all.
Learning that the ability to quickly and accurately assess a rescue situation came as easily to her, the superhero, as it did when she, the reporter, was assessing a story.
And learning that once she made that jump from reporter to superhero, it was actually no jump at all. That it was merely a lateral move to tap into another natural talent.
If she’d needed any more reassurance to utterly and truly let go of any lingering insecurities, she had it in the ease in which she donned Kinetic’s persona.
And that was the best part - practicing her whole persona. She’d had quite a bit of fun with that.
After some discussion and a couple of sessions in a secluded mountain meadow with Clark, she’d begun taking off and landing with her arms out slightly from her sides, palms down and fingers splayed.
Clark had chuckled when she’d demonstrated it, but she’d grinned right back at him.
“It looks like I’m pushing air, doesn’t it?” She’d assumed a lecturing pose, hands behind her back as she’d paced on empty air. “Well, I’m a tactile telekinetic, you know… I fly by displacing air.”
She’d begun a rambling dissertation on nothing as he’d hovered nearby, arms crossed in Superman’s classic pose, one eyebrow up as she went on and on, making it up as she went.
After listening to her tossing about random nonsense phrases like “…If we take the coefficient of Q minus entropy…” and “…factor in the tangent of X squared over pi” and “…approximate the curve as a straight-line” for several minutes, he’d finally growled and pounced on her. And then they’d chased each other all over the meadow, laughing uproariously, until finally collapsing together in the long grasses, where he’d kissed her until they were both genuinely breathless.
They’d shown up for dinner in Smallville only a little late, hand in hand, and Martha had shaken her head indulgently and instructed them to brush the grass out of their hair.
Once Kinetic began appearing, even though the rescues were in some of the most remote corners of the world, the word began getting out. Slowly, because at first, the only photos of her were distant and blurry – hardly better than no photos at all - and because the witness accounts were from those whose first language was not English.
There had been no interviews yet, no close-up photos – just the growing rumors of her existence.
That was how she’d wanted it at first, while she kept Clark’s expertise on tap and grew into the role. But finally, it was time to let the world see.
And so, the previous night, Kinetic had appeared in Metropolis.
Her debut was no small thing – a commuter train had derailed when a switch failed to close on the main tracks that led north out of the city. The train, full to capacity on this Metropolis-to-Gotham route, had just reached full speed as it left Metropolis city limits, and the momentum with which the engine hit the open switch had driven almost every car off the tracks. Because the train had also been carrying some freight – chemical transports among them – the risk of fire among the crumpled, tipped, and broken cars had been very real.
Clark – Superman – had been battling a huge forest fire in Colorado, one that had threatened the dense outer suburbs of a city large enough that containing the fire required a miracle – or super help. He’d been shown prominently on LNN, subduing the flames with his ice breath, but the fire was so large and it burned so hot that quenching it was very slow going even for Superman.
So the first frantic reports of the train disaster had repeated, over and over, how devastating this accident would be, how high the cost in lost lives, because Superman was unavailable to help.
When the news broke, with live footage from the LNN helicopter hovering overhead as the cameraman panned over the scene of the derailment, Lois had not hesitated.
Leaving the Planet had been almost anticlimactic.
As the news anchors had excitedly narrated the scene, she’d simply stood and strode up the ramp without speaking, did the usual pause-do-I-take-the-elevators thing on the landing, then ducked through the stairwell door. She could have even skipped that pause at the top of the ramp; Edmunds and Jenner and Peters, hurriedly preparing to head for the scene, had ben making enough of a racket that they were drawing all eyes, and no one had paid her the slightest attention.
Indeed, she’d probably have commanded more attention if she’d stayed in the newsroom. Lois Lane did not ignore major news stories. Everybody knew that. And even though the consensus was that marriage had mellowed her, that same consensus readily admitted that Mad Dog Lane was by no means diluted – just… better. In a slightly-less-intimidating sort of way.
As she’d hit the Planet’s roof, she’d given Clark a quick telepathic explanation of what was happening.
She’d received his wholehearted encouragement, and an assurance that he would be back as soon as he could – as Clark, unless she needed him as Superman.
And he had, in fact, with excellent timing, returned from his own super activities in time to put in an appearance – as Clark – at the scene.
It was a bit surreal – Superman in reverse, with her changing out of her disguise and joining him, instead of the other way around. With her, not Clark, pretending to have been getting witness accounts at the fringes of the crowd.
Finally, they called in the story to the Planet, stopping in at the newsroom shortly after that to edit it, and then went home to their own private celebration of Kinetic’s debut.
And now here it was – front-page news.
“Ready to get going?” Clark asked now.
She nodded. “Let me get a quick shower.” Unselfconsciously, she rose and headed toward the bathroom, tossing over her shoulder, “…It should be an interesting morning.”
Clark, watching her appreciatively, laughed. “I suspect you’re right.”
She stepped through the bathroom door, poured on the speed, and joined him in the kitchen, fully dressed and ready to go, three minutes later.
---
Lois and Clark arrived at the Planet to find a buzz of excitement similar to that which had occurred after Superman’s first appearance.
As they exited the elevator and moved toward the top of the ramp, they heard Perry’s bellow from a knot of people at the four priority workstations under the bank of television screens, near the big central desk. “News, people! Get me news!”
After Superman’s first appearance, Perry had had a police artist sitting at one of those same workstations, sketching the superhero from a semi-coherent description by an excited Jenner. It was entirely possible that the same man was here today, too, sketching Kinetic.
There’d also been people from Layout - and Production - working on several different mock-ups of the front page, even though that was usually done at the end of the day, after deadline, when those departments had received all of the material intended for the day’s edition. At a quick glance, it looked like Perry had brought in people from the Layout and Production departments again today, too.
Lois grinned at Clark as they headed down the ramp. <Shades of Superman’s debut, huh?>
He laughed softly as they turned toward their desks. Perry hadn’t noticed them yet, so there was time to put away their things before joining the crowd.
Lois dumped her purse in her bottom drawer and straightened up as Jimmy appeared from the direction of the supply room, his arms full of paper and boxes of pencils most likely intended for the people at the priority workstations. “Man, isn’t it exciting, you guys?” he exclaimed, stopping at their desks. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “LNN’s been showing the rescue over and over.”
“Morning, Jim,” Clark said, simultaneously with Lois’s “Good morning, Jimmy.”
“Yeah.” Barely acknowledging their greeting, Jimmy continued, “Did you guys see it? Did you see her?” He almost dropped his armload of supplies as he waved a hand at the bank of television screens, where a replay of the rescue was currently showing. “It’s just – she’s just so… so awesome!” He sighed happily. “It’s like…” He shook his head. “Man, I can’t explain it, guys, but she’s just… I mean, isn’t she just awesome?” he repeated, dumping everything on Clark’s desk where it backed up to Lois’s.
“Jimmy…” she began.
“D’ya think Superman knows her?” Jimmy babbled on, attention riveted on the screen. “I heard he was somewhere in France or Utah or somewhere, saving somebody, or something like that, when she… So maybe he doesn’t, but… Well, I mean, you guys know Superman, so if he knows her… Well, d’ya think maybe he could introduce her to…”
He trailed off, gazing adoringly at the images on the screen. Kinetic was hovering over a tipped train car, carefully peeling back the metal on one side, as the rescue personnel stood ready to step in once the car was open.
<Oh, boy…> Lois glanced at Clark, rolling her eyes. <*France* or Utah? Clark, that forest fire was *all* *over* the news.>
He grinned at her. <Welcome to the Superhero fan club, sweetheart.>
She grinned back and stuck her tongue out at him.
Jimmy was still talking. “I mean, she’s just… awesome, man…” He seemed unable to come up with any other adjective. “Did you guys see when she… Oh, man, and then when… And that outfit -” He whistled, sketching parallel vertical curves in the air as he continued, “Wow! Is she in good shape, or what?”
Lois willed herself not to blush, glancing under her eyelashes at Clark, who was laughing softly. <He’s certainly right about that, sweetheart. Kinetic’s got a great body.>
<Hush, Clark.> But she was grinning, too.
“Yeah, she’s something, huh?” Adam said, pausing beside them on his way from somewhere with a stack of files. “Hey, do you guys think she’s related to Superman?”
Lois opened her mouth to reply, but Jimmy was already answering. “Nah, Lois and Clark got to interview her, remember? She says she’s tele- …uh, tele-something. Not… well, Superman’s from another planet, isn’t he? But she’s… What was it that she has?” he asked, turning to Lois and Clark.
Clark glanced at Lois. He was trying to maintain a serious expression, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. <Jimmy makes it sound like a disease.> “She’s a tactile telekinetic,” he told the young man dryly.
“I think that’s where the name came from,” Lois added equally dryly. She, on the other hand, was grinning openly. <Apparently it’s a disease that’s socially acceptable to young men.>
Clark turned away with a sudden coughing spell.
“Huh?” Jimmy blinked at her. “Oh, yeah, I guess… But anyway…”
“What’s that – telekinesis - got to do with whether she’s related to Superman or not?” Adam demanded.
“Well, see…” Jimmy began, but was interrupted by Diane, another of the sportswriters, who paused beside them.
“No, they’re not related,” she said authoritatively. “I read in the National Enquirer that they’re dating.”
Lois choked. That hit awfully close to home.
<Clark…?>
Lois looked worriedly at Clark, but Jimmy was already protesting, “Man, you can’t believe anything you read in there, Diane.”
Clark shook his head very slightly, acknowledging her unspoken question. <I think it’s okay, Lois. We knew there’d be a certain amount of speculation about Superman and Kinetic.>
“Yeah, I don’t think they’ve even met,” Adam was saying. “LNN said that she said she’s only just arrived –“
If LNN had said that, they were quoting Lois and Clark’s own story.
“What, you don’t think she’d date just *anybody*, do you?” Diane was arguing.
“Of course not,” Adam said. “But she’s not dating Superman. Didn’t you read the newspaper today, Diane? She just got here. She said she’s not Superman’s partner.”
“I’m talking about dating, Adam, not… not saving-the-world superhero partners -” Diane began scathingly.
Adam interrupted her. “Hey, look at that! They’ve got some new video!” Both young men turned to look, as did Diane and Lois and Clark.
“Hey, turn that up!” Adam called across the room, and one of the people standing near the televisions reached up and turned up the sound.
Adam began to drift toward the TV, trailed by Diane, who was still arguing, “Even if they aren’t dating right now, it’s obvious that they’re perfect for each other…”
Lois looked back at Clark with a conspiratorial grin. <Well, she’s got that right, at least.>
Clark winked at her. <Yep. I’d say Kinetic is perfect for Superman.>
“This was taken from the roof of an office building near the scene of the derailment,” one of the LNN anchors said, drawing their attention back to the TV screen.
A grainy, obviously amateur video, showing much the same thing as LNN’s own clips, was playing on the TV. “This is the dramatic appearance and rescue of scores of rail commuters by what appears to be the city’s newest superhero, Kinetic Girl,” the LNN anchor’s voice said as the camera shakily followed the black and pink form.
Lois choked, turning it into a cough at the last moment. “What –“ she began indignantly.
<Lois…> Clark began warningly.
“What did they just call her?” she demanded. <Kinetic *Girl*, Clark?>
Jimmy looked at her curiously. “Uh… you guys talked to her,” he said. “Didn’t your article say that she said her name is Kinetic Girl…?” He trailed off, looking back at the TV screen.
“I think it’s just Kinetic, Jim,” Clark said mildly as Lois growled under her breath.
“Yeah…” Jimmy said, obviously distracted by the short video, which LNN was replaying again as the anchor kept talking about the rescue. “..that’s what I said. Kinetic Girl.” He sighed almost dreamily. “She’s just great, isn’t she? Do you think she’s single?” Without waiting for a reply, he, too, drifted toward the TVs, leaving his forgotten armload of supplies where he’d dumped it on Clark’s desk.
“Kinetic *Girl*?” Lois repeated again, this time aloud, but in a low and dangerous voice that probably only Clark could hear.
<Lois…>
Perry’s bellow rang out again. “Awright, people! News! I want news!”
He shook a handful of newspapers - some of their competitors’ current editions - in emphasis. “I want our headlines to be bigger and better than our competition’s!” He flapped the papers again for emphasis. “Bigger! Better! This is the Daily Planet, folks, not the Hoboken Gazette!”
Grinning, Lois raised an eyebrow at Clark, who grinned back. Perry in full news-hunt-mode was a one-man show.
“Now let’s get out there and get stories!” Perry continued. “And pictures! Pictures *and* stories! This newspaper is on the leading edge for Superman stories – so let’s get out there and make it happen with Kinetic Girl, too!”
Lois whirled to look at Clark, who looked startled, before she turned back to stare at Perry.
“Jimmy!” Perry had barely paused for breath before zeroing in on his next target. “Where’s those pencils and paper, son?”
<Lois…>
She took a deep breath. <Even Perry, that bum! And he knows who Kinetic really is, Clark! I’m sure of it!> She clenched her fists and took a step toward the group still gathered at the central desk.
“Lois!” Clark suddenly exclaimed loudly, startling her. “Bobby!” Before she could react, he’d grabbed her hand and was towing her rapidly up the ramp in a very credible imitation of Mad Dog Lane, still talking. “…Bigmouth! Bobby Bigmouth!”
<Clark…>
“Lois! Clark!” Perry bellowed, catching sight of them, and Clark waved a hand dismissively at him in another uncannily Mad Dog Lane gesture.
“Later, Perry! Lois and I have…” He waved a hand again, apparently feeling that was enough of an explanation for their editor, who snorted but didn’t challenge him.
<Clark…>
“C’mon, Lois! Now! We’re late, and you know Bobby won’t wait for very long,” Clark continued loudly, not stopping, either literally or for breath.
<*Clark* - >
He tugged her through the stairwell door. As it shut behind her, she finally dug in her heels. He stopped and turned back to her, clearly expecting an explosion.
Instead, she leaned against the wall and began to laugh.
Clark blinked at her in confusion.
“Kinetic *Girl*,” she gasped between gales of laugher. “Kinetic *Girl*!”
Glancing worriedly at the stairwell door as if expecting someone to burst through it at any time, Clark turned back to her. “Lois…”
When she only laughed harder, shaking her head, he scooped her up in his arms and zipped up the stairs to the roof.
She looped an arm around his neck and let him carry her, leaning her head on his shoulder, still laughing. When he stopped on the roof and the door had closed behind them, he looked down at her worriedly, still holding her in his arms.
“Lois, are you okay?”
She smiled sweetly at him, still chuckling, then took her arm from around his neck, bringing her other hand up to frame his face, and kissed him. “You can set me down, Clark,” she told him, still grinning. “I’m not going to attack anyone.”
He relinquished her slowly, letting her slide down his body and hugging her gently to him before releasing her. “I wasn’t sure…” he began.
She stayed close to him, linking her arms loosely around his waist, and he tightened his own arms around her again. “Yeah, it took me a minute there,” she admitted. “I really had to bite my tongue…”
She pulled back to look up at him. “And you, you bum. You didn’t think I’d control myself.” She swatted him playfully.
He laughed, bringing his hands up, pretending to ward her off. “Hey, I wasn’t sure…” he protested.
She laughed again, shaking her head. “All that time and effort by all those women, all those years, for equality - and when it comes down to it…” She giggled helplessly, not needing to finish the sentence. “So now here I am, the city’s newest superhero… doer of great deeds…” She grinned up at him. “And I’ll forever be known as Kinetic *Girl*.”
He laughed, too, and tugged her gently back against him. She went gladly.
“Lois Lane,” he whispered, enclosing her in his arms, his mouth by her ear. She shivered deliciously.
He raised his head, dropping a kiss on her hair. “Mad Dog Lane.” She snuggled in tighter against him.
He slid one hand up to cradle her jaw, his thumb brushing gently against the corner of her mouth. “Dragon slayer,” he breathed.
She shivered again, parting her lips. His mouth drew closer to hers, and she caught her breath in anticipation.
“Kinetic.” He said it with a slow smile, drawing one from her in return, his mouth a hairsbreadth from hers. With a moan, she closed the distance between them.
“Kinetic *Girl*,” he murmured against her lips in the briefest of caresses.
He lifted his mouth and pulled back far enough to gaze into her eyes, smiling again slowly when she made a brief sound of protest at the loss of his lips against hers.
“Whatever you’re called by the rest of the world, you’re still Lois, my beloved, to me,” he said softly, and kissed her again, and this time it was everything she’d come to know in his kisses – love and laughter, homecoming, the sweetness that was Clark - and passion, pure and deep and true.
---
The End (Again)
