Not Your Average Joe
By Samik
"Einhorne and Finkle. Finkle and Einhorne . . ." Lois watched Ace Ventura battle photographs while Clark snored quietly at her side. She found the movie less entertaining than the first time she'd seen it, but since it was her pick, she had decided to watch to the end.
It had been tradition with them the last couple of months, alternating picking movies for "Friday Night In." After a month of drama's and chick-flicks, Lois had been ready for a change. Clark simply smiled when she showed up at his door with a pizza and a copy of "Ace Ventura: Pet Detective."
But Clark had long since stopped paying attention to the movie. With his arm draped over the back of the couch, his head lolled back as he dozed. Lois contemplated how peaceful he looked asleep like that, and made no move to wake him. She was just as content to watch Clark sleep as she was to watch the movie on the television.
The thought to commit a comedic prank in lieu of the comedy they were supposed to be watching skirted across Lois's mind: shaving cream in his hands or a light touch of make-up on his face... But curious Lois replaced mischievous Lois rather rapidly. She had never seen Clark without his glasses. Maybe it was something in the back of her mind coupled with the movie with an antagonist of dual identity that spurred this bout of curiosity, Lois didn’t know. She justified the thought in her mind thinking he could not possibly be comfortable with his glasses pressed into the side of his face as they were.
He shifted, but did not awaken when she removed the glasses from his face. He looked so powerfully innocent. In passing, she thought there was something familiar about the power she saw in his face, but dismissed it and returned her attentions to the television.
Lois stood to rewind the tape when the movie ended, shifting the couch cushions enough to wake Clark from his doze.
"Good-evening, sleepy-head.” He grinned slightly and yawned. Lois watched him stretch, running his hand back through his hair as he sat straight on the couch. She stared at him, rooted to the spot, sudden recognition and understanding for her fleeting thought and curiosity written on her face.
Clark's still sleepy eyes focused on Lois's nonmoving form. "What is it?" he asked suddenly awake. "I didn’t grow a third eye, did I?” His joke was lost on Lois. Slowly he became aware that something was missing from his being. He found the offending object clenched in Lois's left hand, and understood what transpired.
"Lois," he coaxed, "say something." She was still staring at him stoically, trying to reconcile in her mind the two men she'd previously held in highest regard.
"I can't believe you... you...” Closing her eyes, she tried desperately to regain hold of the memories rushing through her consciousness. "I can't believe it was all you," she said softly. For a moment, Clark thought he stood a chance of getting through Lois finding out about him unscathed. Then she opened her eyes.
Lois was seething. She paced in front of his coffee table muttering to herself. "You lying son-of-a-lame-ass-excuse-making-cheese-of-the-month-club . . . oh, my . . ." She stopped and faced him. He was sitting apprehensively in the middle of the couch, his arms resting on his knees. "You infuriate me, Clark Kent! I can't believe you!" She threw her hands up in exasperation.
"Lois, I'-"
"Don't, Clark." He moved to approach her.
"But-" He tried again. A sharp wave of her hand sent him sinking back into the couch.
"I don't want to hear it, Clark." Resuming her pacing, she continued, arms folded across her chest. "I can't believe this. I can't believe in the year that I've known you that I never saw it. I can't believe some of the things you said to me." There was fire in her eyes. "I can't believe you lied to me. You," she said pointedly, "the one person in the world I could trust. I don't know how I'm ever going to be able to trust you again." She sank quietly to the floor wrapping her arms around her legs her forehead resting on her knees.
He could tell she didn’t say all she was thinking. For this he was grateful. But the irritation with not being able to complete a sentence led him to pounce.
"And you've never lied to-" Lois's head snapped up.
"Don't even bring my past transgressions into this, Kent," she spat. "This is not about me. You were supposed to be my best friend. I don't know who you are anymore." She stared at the lines in her blue jeans.
"You know who I am, Lois. I'm the same person I was bef-"
"No! You're not! There are things I've said to you . . . in either persona . . ." She trailed off, obviously embarrassed by memories of conversations between herself and Clark regarding Superman, or between herself and Superman regarding Clark.
There was silence while Clark contemplated attempting to speak once more. He hesitated, for fear of being cut off once again. His mouth opened and closed a few times with the intent of saying something before he was actually able to get anything out. At this point, he wasn’t any more happy about the situation than Lois was.
"You know," he began cautiously, leaning forward on his knees, "we're not going to get anywhere if you don't let me say anything." He waited before continuing, looking to see if her posture would give him an indication of what she was feeling. He couldn’t read her. She sat there in the middle of his floor, eyes closed, projecting no emotion whatsoever. "When you're ready to have a conversation - a two sided conversation - let me know."
Clark felt almost helpless to rectify the situation. She didn't want to hear him at all. He rose dejectedly and went the kitchen, busily occupying himself with the task of making tea.
Opening her eyes, Lois sighed heavily. She listened to Clark move expertly around his kitchen. She heard him talking to himself, muttering something about how to make her understand that the secret wasn't solely his, that in his entire thirty years he'd never told anyone, that all he wanted to have a life, a home, friends, and still help people when they need helping.
She knew that he muttered loud enough for her to hear on purpose. His not so non-descript grumblings served their purpose.
Lois then realized that she was less angry at him than she originally thought. She didn't understand why he continually lied to her, but even she kept secrets from him. Swallowing her pride, Lois joined Clark in the kitchen.
He eyed her, bracing himself for another round with an angry Lois. She sat sideways in a chair at the table, motioning that he take the seat opposite her. He followed her direction nervously, but calmed when she finally addressed him.
"Why, Clark?" she asked softly.
"'Why,' what, Lois?" he asked cautiously. "Why did I become Superman? Why did I keep it from you? Why . . . ?"
"Either. Or. Both."
He sighed. "You're not going to run off on me right now, are you?" she asked when he didn't answer right away.
"No, Lois,” he answered a little more tersely than intended. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Why, then, Clark?” Her composure made him more nervous. He had never seen her collected when she was angry.
“How mad are you?” He was staring at his hands.
“You wanted me to listen to you, Clark. I’m hear ready to listen. It would probably be prudent of you to start talking,” she said matter-of-factly.
“You created Superman, Lois.” She raised an eyebrow. “That day outside the Planet, with the guy in the manhole… I wanted to help people. My origins have afforded me with these . . . abilities. I can’t not help. You showed me that I could do that and maintain a normal lifestyle.” He hoped he was working himself back into her good graces. Or at least, her better graces.
“I always wanted to lead a normal life, be your average Joe. I didn’t tell you because I’ve never told anyone in my life. Dad drilled it into my head when I was young that if someone found out about me, they’d dissect me like a frog. Now, I know that they can’t, but sometimes fears from your childhood come back to haunt you as an adult.” His words were spilling all over themselves. Lois listened quietly.
“After the thing with Jason Trask it just got more complicated.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Believe me, Lois, when I tell you I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, but between work and Superman and everything else there was never a ‘right’ time. And breaking old habit is hard. There are other reasons, but none of them seem all that important right now.”
“What did you mean earlier when you said that it’s not just your secret to tell?” Clark noticed she seemed genuinely interested, no shadow of the anger and resentment of no more than a half an hour before visible.
“So you heard that?” It was a rhetorical question. He knew she had. “This is my parents’ secret too, not just mine. If another rogue government agency like Bureau 39 were to find out about me, they’d come after my parents for harboring an illegal alien or something. And that’s alien in the traditional sense, not as in someone from another country.” He was more reserved now than before. “I can’t let anything happen to them. All they did was love me and accept me for what I am.”
“Who you are, Clark.” He eyed her quizzically. “You’re not a ‘what.’”
“I’m not human, Lois!” He stood abruptly, leaning forward on the palms of his hands. “I think that would classify me as a what.”
“Whatever happened to that tea?” She intentionally changed the subject in effort to calm him a little. He retrieved it from the counter, his eyes glowing red before he set a mug down in front of her. “You’re rather handy to have around, aren’t you?” she asked lightheartedly.
“I thought you were angry.” It was more a question than a statement. He set his mug down and pulled his chair back to the table.
“I was angry, but I’m not anymore. There are a lot of things that I don’t understand about you, but I realized I know the Clark you show to the world, and the Superman you show to the world. I want to know you, the Clark that your parents know.” She tilted her head to the side, trying to make him meet her eyes. “Hey,” she said, “look at me.” Reluctantly he complied.
She took his larger hand in her small one. “You’re never going to be an ‘average Joe,’ Clark, and that’s what makes you special.”
Fin.
Disclaimer: Ace Ventura Pet Detective is copyright 1995 Warner Bros. Entertainment. Lois Land and Clark Kent are property of Warner Bros., December 3rd Productions, and DC Comics. No infringement intended.
