Table of Contents
From Part 28:“That sounds kind of... egotistical, wouldn’t you say, Ms Lane?” he murmured, with a half-smile.
“Perhaps. But just ask any of these people here what they think,” she suggested. “Or better still, Jenny’s parents. I think Superman describes you and what you can do pretty well.”
“If you insist,” he said, still smiling. “Is that all you need? Because I think I’m needed over there...” He gestured to a small group several yards away. He was pretty sure that the emergency services were managing without him, but it gave him an excuse to end the interview.
“Okay. But I’ll be watching you, Superman!” Lois said cheerfully, moving away and going to interview some of the bystanders.
He was well aware of that. And, Clark thought, he liked the idea.
He liked it a
lot.
*********
Now read on...It was a good thing that she’d known Clark as himself first, Lois thought as she watched the new Superhero at work. If she’d met him first as Superman, or whatever he would have called himself, she’d have been in complete awe of him.
He was so completely in control of the situation, at the same time both commanding and compassionate. He was self-assured and confident, and everyone around rushed to do his bidding, deferred to him for advice and expected him to find solutions. They treated him as if he was miracle-worker and commander-in-chief combined.
There was no way that Lois could have contemplated having such a... a
god as a boyfriend. Oh, she could imagine having a crush on him, sure; but as for imagining a relationship of equals... no way.
But as she knew he was Clark, she had no concerns there. Clark, for all that he might be from another planet, was more human than anyone else she knew. He was kind, thoughtful, caring and had vulnerabilities. He wasn’t some super-confident being to whom she could never aspire to be an equal. He was... Clark. Her partner. Her friend.
And her boyfriend.
Her boyfriend: a man from another planet who could do amazing,
incredible things. He could lift heavy objects as if they weighed nothing. He could see through solid objects. He could set things on fire with his eyes... and put the fires out with his breath. He could see and hear things at huge distances. And he could
fly.
He was the best thing that had ever happened to the world, Lois thought as she watched him. He wanted to do good: to save lives, prevent disasters, to help out where he was needed. Incredible abilities combined with a strong ethical streak - possibly inculcated by his parents - and a powerful sense of compassion.
He was also the best thing that had ever happened to her. And she intended to hang onto him. This was one man Lucy wouldn’t be able to accuse her of scaring off!
She carried on interviewing victims of the crash and emergency workers, keeping half an eye on Clark as she did so. This was going to be a great story, and she was right on the spot
and she had eyewitness accounts and photographs. There was no way that anyone was going to be able to say that ‘Superman’ couldn’t possibly exist. His debut would be the talk of the city - if not all of America - for some time. And the credit for the story - the exclusive - would all be hers and Clark’s.
They were very fortunate, of course, that none of the local TV companies or networks had sent anyone to the scene. Of course, traffic accidents happened all the time, although a pile-up such as this was bad even for Metropolis. But all it would have taken was for someone to get on the phone to LNN and tell them about the incredible flying man who was at the scene; an outside broadcast van would have been sent immediately, assuming the person who took the call even halfway believed what he was hearing.
Now, if she and Clark could get straight to the Planet once they were finished here, they could have the story ready for the morning edition, together with photographs. Of course, it would have made it into the public domain before that; she was resigned to that being the case. People would call the TV and radio news and talk programmes with their stories. The emergency workers would certainly be including references to Superman in their reports. His existence would be old news by morning - but the Planet would be the only media outlet with photographs, an interview, and a
name.
Clark seemed to be indicating his intention to hand over to the emergency services and leave. Lois took a couple of photographs of him being shaken by the hand by the director of operations, and then of him lifting into the sky again, before slipping away to go back to the ramp where they’d landed earlier. She hoped he intended to meet her there - if he didn’t, she’d have a heck of a time getting back to the Planet.
He was there waiting for her, still dressed in the costume, of course, and looking exhilarated.
“We did it! It worked!” he exclaimed. “They just... accepted me as I was. They let me help. And no-one called the police or the National Guard!”
“What did I tell you?” she retorted, then threw her arms around him. “You were magnificent!”
He hugged her back, blushing. “Thanks. But we better get out of here, just in case...”
“Yeah.” Lois glanced around anxiously, but they were still alone.
“Uh... where are my clothes?” he asked, his awkward, almost embarrassed expression at odds with the splendid Superhero costume.
“I have them.” She handed her backpack to him. “Just be careful of my camera, okay? If you damage that, I don’t care who you are, you’re dead.”
That made him grin. “I wouldn’t dare!” As he rummaged in the pack, he added, “And don’t think I didn’t notice you running around taking photographs. And interviewing people! You’re always prepared for a story, aren’t you?”
“Of course! How do you think I won all those Kerths? Never miss a story opportunity, that’s what makes you successful.”
He extracted his clothes and handed the backpack to her, looking ruefully at his shirt and jeans. “I’ve got to figure out a way to do this. I can’t just strip off each time I’m needed. And if you’re not with me, where do I leave my clothes?”
“I guess we didn’t think of that,” Lois said thoughtfully. And he was right: it was a problem. Well, more of a minor detail, unless he had to leave his clothes somewhere unsafe and someone found them and recognised them as what Clark Kent had been wearing.
And then she was distracted by a virtual whirlwind in front of her. It stopped within seconds, though, leaving Clark standing in front of her dressed as he had been earlier, and wearing his glasses.
“Well, that sort of worked,” he said with a grin.
“What... did you... just do?” she asked, dumbfounded by what she’d just seen - or almost seen.
“I spun,” he said proudly. “Fast, so you couldn’t see what I was doing. And while I was spinning, I got dressed. And I think I know what I can do with my clothes now, too.”
“What?” she demanded eagerly.
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” he said with an exaggerated leer. “Come on - let’s get to the Planet!”
********
Whirlwind-Lois rushed into action as soon as they reached the Planet. First, they stopped off at the darkroom, where she handed in her camera with dire threats of eternal torture for anyone who dared present her with anything less than perfect prints. Then, once on the newsroom floor, she went to the night editor and ordered him to call Perry in.
“Whatever you’ve got, I can handle it,” the editor protested, clearly offended at being told - not asked - to call in his boss.
Deciding to stay out of this discussion, Clark leaned casually against the door-frame and watched Mad Dog Lane in action.
“Forget it, Samuels. This one needs Perry. And he’d want to know why you haven’t called him in.”
“What’s it about?” Samuels demanded, holding his ground. At Lois’s stubborn look, he added, “You know I won’t phone up Perry White just on your say-so. I need to be able to tell him what this is about. And you know darned well he’d have my hide if I called him up without knowing what it’s about and whether it justifies him coming in!”
“Okay,” she conceded. “Did you hear about that pile-up on the Luthor Freeway?”
“That? Come on, Lane, that’s not major news! There’s a traffic pile-up every other week! Besides, the TV news will have talked it to death by the time the morning edition hits the streets. If anyone’s interested in the first place.”
“Then you don’t know what happened,” Lois said triumphantly. “What if we were to tell you that a flying man appeared from nowhere, put out all the fires and ripped open cars like sardine cans to rescue trapped victims?”
Samuels gave her a scathing look. “I’d start dialling the funny farm. Lane, what do you think I am?”
“Only someone who’s got the biggest story of the year under his nose and is about to pass it up!” Lois retorted, her tone indicating exactly what she thought of the hapless night editor.
“Oh? I thought that was the downfall of Lex Luthor!” Samuels observed.
“This is bigger. Look, have you been listening to any news tonight?”
“I’ve been editing a newspaper!” Samuels pointed out.
“Okay. Clark - ” Lois directed a look at him. “Turn on the TVs, okay? LNN should do, unless they’re still shell-shocked from their boss’s exposure as a murderer.”
Clark went out into the newsroom and hit the switch; a second later, an excitable voice filled the room.
“...I tell you, I saw him! He wore a blue and red suit - with a
cape, for god’s sake - and he was flying! He ripped open that car - ” Clark could see the picture now; it seemed that LNN had belatedly managed to get an outside broadcast team to the site. The Mustang whose roof he’d pulled off to free its driver was shown on the screen. “ - as if it was made of paper. He was incredible!”
The reporter’s voice took over from the bystander. “And this report is echoed by just about every bystander I’ve spoken to, Howard, so unless they’ve all suffered from a collective hallucination I don’t think they’re making it up. And the police confirmed the sighting,” she was saying.
“What do they think he - it - was?” Howard, back in the studio, asked.
“Nobody knows, although there’s a rumour that he told someone he was from another planet.”
“Wait a minute,” Howard protested. “You’re telling me that there’s an
alien in Metropolis? A little green man from Mars?”
“Well, from what eyewitnesses have told me, he’s more like a big white man from Hunk of the week!” the reporter responded. Then, winding up her report, she concluded, “This is Linda Montoya, reporting from the Lex Luthor Freeway on what could be the most amazing alien sighting ever seen on Earth... or the biggest hoax.”
“That’s what you’re talking about?” Samuels said, sounding stunned.
“Yes,” Lois said, only semi-patiently. “We have an eyewitness account, plus interviews with victims, photographs of him in action *and* an interview with Superman himself.”
“Superman?” Now Samuels was scathing.
Lois shrugged. “See what you think when you see the photographs.”
The night editor shook his head slowly, slumping into a nearby chair. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I? This can’t be happening.”
“It’s happening, all right,” Clark said, feeling that he should at least back Lois up.
“Look, you know what? I don’t want to know. Just wake me up when it’s all over, okay?”
“So I can call Perry?” Lois persisted.
“If you insist. I mean, this is just a crazy dream, right? So even if Perry chews me out for not doing my job, it can’t affect my record, can it?”
But Clark could see that Lois was no longer listening to Samuels. She had grabbed a phone and was feverishly dialling. Yep, this was Mad Dog Lane at work, all right...
And he loved it.
**********
Convincing Perry that the Superman story was genuine was somewhat easier; he’d seen the LNN report and had heard a paramedic who’d been at the scene interviewed on the radio on his way in.
“So what’s going on, you two? I hope you’re going to tell me that you got the inside scoop on this flying man!” he barked as soon as he came out of the elevator.
“That’s exactly what we’ve got for you,” Lois said triumphantly. “And I know you never do it any more, but you
have to hold the front page for this one.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said thoughtfully. “You know how uppity the suits upstairs get about anything that puts costs up.”
“This’ll be worth it.” Lois was supremely confident, grinning at Perry in the sure knowledge that he was going to be delighted with her. “We don’t just have the story...” She paused for dramatic effect. “We have photographs and an interview!”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Get on those computers and start writing!” Perry ordered. “And let me see those photographs!”
“Can’t. The darkroom people are developing them now.”
“Okay, I’ll get onto them and tell them to get their butts in gear. And why are you two still standing here?”
Lois caught Clark’s arm. “Come on, partner. You heard him!”
Two hours later, they were ready to go to press. Perry had selected a blown-up colour photograph of Superman hovering over several mangled cars for the front page, but on the inside pages were several smaller pictures of the superhero in action. The photos had come out very well, Lois thought, especially considering that she wasn’t a photographer by profession; she’d managed to portray the sheer majesty of Superman combined with the awe in the expressions of those watching. The banner headline on the front page was “Superman!” with, in smaller bold text underneath, “He flies, he blows out fires, he can bend steel with his bare hands. Is he really from another planet?”.
The byline on the story was Lane and Kent, and it had truly been a joint effort. Clark had been inclined to underplay what he’d done, which Lois had refused to allow; on the other hand, he had been of much more help in explaining exactly the situation he’d faced at the accident scene and how he’d had to deal with it - although they’d deliberately kept some of the details vague, just in case anyone wondered how they knew so much.
Superman’s debut had been thoroughly chronicled, Lois felt by the time they were finished. Perry was delighted with their eyewitness account, and even more so with the photographs; by the time she and Clark were packing up, he was waxing lyrically about increased circulation figures and stock values. At the same point, he was debating aloud as to whether it was possible to get radio ads aired in time to boost sales of the morning edition still further.
“You two did a good job,” he said finally, when Lois told him they were leaving. “But you know as well as I do that today’s headline is tomorrow’s tramp’s bed. So I want you to get out there and find this guy! I want to know who he is, what his real name is, what’s his agenda - what he eats for breakfast! First thing tomorrow, you’re on it, okay?” The command was barked out gruffly.
“You got it, Perry,” Lois said smartly, nudging Clark in the ribs to ensure that he echoed her agreement. He did, clearly reluctantly, but as they entered the elevator he looked disquieted.
“I’m not sure I like this.” He leaned against the elevator wall, hands thrust deep into his jeans pockets.
“What? Perry setting us on a hunt for Superman?” Lois shrugged. “You knew that would happen. Come on, Clark, you’re a reporter! Every media organisation in the country will be trying to hunt him down.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered.
The elevator stopped at the ground floor. Lois hooked her arm through Clark’s and dragged him with her out of the car. “Look, they’re not going to find him, are they? So what’s the problem?”
“They might,” Clark answered glumly, holding the front door open so that she could precede him onto the street.
“Not a chance! Look, we’re the only ones who know the truth,” she said in an undertone. “And we’re not going to tell anyone. And we have the added advantage that we can throw people off the scent if we like. You know - have Superman say something in an ‘interview’ - ” She crooked the fingers of her free hand to indicate quotes. “ - which means no-one would even think of looking for a secret identity. Don’t be so worried, Clark!”
“I guess you’re right.” He freed his arm from her grasp, wrapping it around her shoulders instead. “I should stop obsessing about it.”
“It can’t be easy,” Lois acknowledged. “You’ve been afraid of exposure most of your life.”
“True. But,” he added, clearly making an effort to smile, “now I’ve got a great disguise, and an even better support network.” The mini-hug he gave her made it clear that she was included in that network.
“Hey, what are friends for?” she said lightly, but she knew she was blushing.
“Friends?” He paused, giving her a quizzical look. “I thought we were more than friends?”
Lois caught her breath. The illumination provided by a nearby street light allowed her to see his face, and the way he was looking at her made her feel weak at the knees. She’d thought earlier that he might be in love with her, but in a way she’d had that thought without any consideration of what it actually meant.
The way he was looking at her told her exactly what it meant.
Clark was looking at her as if she was the most precious thing in the world. His gaze held a combination of awe, wonder, desire, longing and admiration. And possession, too; she was his woman, and he wanted her to know it. Even if there was a degree of uncertainty there, too.
She moved closer to him. “Yes, I think you could definitely say we’re more than friends,” she told him, her voice husky. “But being friends is important too.”
“Definitely,” he agreed, and his voice was gravelly too. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Lois. Even though we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks... I’ve never felt so comfortable with anyone.”
She moved closer still. “Me too, Clark... I like having you as my friend.”
He smiled, a slow, dizzying smile. “And I like having you as mine.” His head dipped, and his lips claimed hers.
The kiss was long and slow and completely wonderful. Lois wrapped her arms around Clark, uncaring that they were in the street in the middle of Metropolis; the whole world could see them kissing for all she cared. The only thing that mattered was being in Clark’s arms.
Too soon, and yet it was after a long time, he raised his head and smiled dazedly down at her. “I should have followed my instincts and kissed you the very first time we met,” he murmured softly.
“What? When you found out that I was a woman?”
But he shook his head. “Nope. The moment I was introduced to Larry Long, I felt this crazy, unbelievable desire to haul him into my arms and kiss him senseless.” He gave her a rueful grin. “Can you imagine how that felt?”
“Well, since I found myself having X-rated fantasies about a man I thought was a worthless criminal, yeah, I can!” Lois confessed.
Clark blinked, then grinned at her. “X-rated, hmmm? So exactly what were you imagining, Lois? Anything you’d want to... try out, perhaps?”
She felt herself blushing, but laughed. “Don’t push your luck, Kent!”
He laughed in response, and then offered her his arm again. “Come on. Let’s get you home. After all, looks like we have a busy day tomorrow!”
Lois snuggled up to him, and was rewarded with his arm around her shoulders instead. “Going home sounds like a great idea,” she said, in a teasing tone. She had every intention of ensuring that Clark stayed for at least an hour of kissing and cuddling.
But he, it seemed, had other ideas. “I won’t come in, Lois,” he said, his tone regretful. “I’d like to, but I’m thinking maybe Superman - if you really insist on that name! - should be seen out and about a little. And I want to keep an eye on Hewitt Dock - you know there’ve been attacks there over the last few days.”
“You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” Lois said, feeling a combination of admiration and amusement. She couldn’t help feeling a sense of satisfaction at the same time: after all, Superman was in a way her creation. She was the one who had inspired Clark to create a hero-style persona for himself.
She supposed she could forgo the kisses in a good cause. Just as long as he made up for it another time - and as long as that was soon.
Clark walked with her to her apartment building, then insisted on accompanying her up to her door. She smiled coyly up at him as she slid the first key into its lock. “You can’t walk all the way up here and then say you don’t want to come in! Twenty minutes - I’ll make coffee. Or not, if you prefer.” She grinned.
He looked tempted, but then shook his head. “Thanks all the same, Lois, but I really should get going. Tell you what, though,” he added. “How about I take a rain-check on that coffee? I could come by later, if you like. Maybe in a couple of hours or so?”
Lois gave him a slow, sweet smile. “I’ll hold you to that, Kent.”
His answering smile was broad and full of promise. “I’ll be here.” Tipping up her chin with his fingertips, he lowered his head and took her lips in another kiss.
This was too brief, Lois thought as Clark pulled away a couple of minutes later. She wanted to drag him inside her apartment and lock the doors... but that wouldn’t do her much good, she realised, since he could just jump out of the window and fly away anyway.
“Okay, if you’re insisting on leaving, get going,” she told him, pushing lightly against his chest. He caught her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing her fingers.
“See you later,” he promised, before walking back down the corridor.
Lois let herself into her apartment, deciding to spend an hour or so checking out the news on TV and radio to see what was being said about Superman. Closing the door behind her, she began to fasten the various bolts.
And then a hand slid around her face and clamped itself over her lips.
She froze.
Who could it be? Obviously someone to whom five deadbolts presented no difficulty whatsoever. So it wasn’t a petty burglar. And, if it was someone who harboured a grudge against her, he - she was sure that it was a man - was very determined. And skilled.
And probably going to kill her, she acknowledged. Criminals didn’t just break in and make their presence known in this manner if all they wanted to do was yell obscenities at her.
He hadn’t spoken yet. That was the most unnerving thing of all.
Time to take aggressive action. Lois bent from the waist, then twisted her body and kicked out behind, aiming for her assailant’s vulnerable spots. But he was martial arts-trained too, because he took evasive action and in seconds had her flat on her front on the floor, his knee pressed against her lower spine and one arm twisted painfully behind her back.
“Who are you?” she demanded. “What do you want?”
“Oh, you do disappoint me, Ms Lane. I would have thought that an award-winning investigative reporter like you would have already worked all of that out. I suppose you’re just not as good as you think you are,” the man behind her, pinning her to the floor, drawled.
And she knew that voice.
Lex Luthor was out of prison somehow, and he’d come looking for revenge.
And he was currently holding a gun to her head.
**********
...tbc
