Ficathon - Be My Friend, Lover
By coolgirl
Part 1
Here’s a Top Copy rewrite for bellarata. The story is set after the infamous Kryptonite Kiss causes Clark to resort to nuclear treatment to survive. In my story, however, Clark doesn’t regain his superpowers immediately. Lois tries to give him some much required TLC, but ends some getting something more. 
I thought including Diana Stride would make the entire concept of the holiday theme vanish in a disgusting puff of green-kryptonite smoke, so no A-Plot.
What if Lois Lane thought that Superman AKA Clark Kent needed her only as a friend?
A Valentine’s Day story.
Many thanks to Darth Michael for beta-ing this story for me.
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February 14th, 3:15 AMA soft groan from the queen-sized bed in her dark bedroom caught Lois’ attention.
“Clark?” she whispered, getting up from the window seat where she’d been sitting for the past three hours pretending to work on her laptop because she couldn’t sleep. Setting her laptop carelessly on a cushioned chair by the window, she walked towards the bed and sat on it, beside its lone, sick occupant.
“Clark?” she murmured again, bending her head to pay more attention to her friend’s drowsy mutterings.
“Water,” Clark mumbled feebly, immediately sending Lois into a flurry of action as she switched on the night-lamp, lifted his head to her lap, and poured some water from the jug on the bedside table into a glass. Lifting the glass and tilting it to place the brim on his mouth, she gently urged him to swallow. “Here…”
“Thanks,” Clark smiled sleepily a couple of sips later, making Lois’ heart ache and feel as though she never wanted to leave his side.
It didn’t matter anymore whether he was normal or super-powered, whether he wore his work-clothes or
the suit, whether he could somersault in the air or walk on the ground, at this moment, here, he was hers. Her Clark.
But, for how long?
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Two days before, at the Daily Planet The newsroom was bustling with activity. Her colleagues were all busy, either typing their story up or watching the news-bulletin on LNN. Every now and then the elevator dinged and someone either stepped out of it or got into it. The half-dozen television sets, which were tuned to relay different channels, blared on at the background. A cleaning-woman was mopping up the floor busily where someone had spilled coffee, and a delivery boy who appeared to have emerged from out of nowhere nearly slipped as he tried to avoid bumping into her. A couple of young, skimpily-clad fashion columnists, both of whom Jimmy had promised to go out with, stood beside his table challenging him to decide which one he wanted.
Lois watched the young man’s ashen face and smiled at his predicament. It seemed Jimmy had finally gotten caught on his two-timing prank. She’d warned him repeatedly, but Jimmy, being Jimmy, had wanted to have a little fun. Nope, strike that, he’d wanted to have a *lot* of fun. No wonder he never got a proper date.
Giving him a gloating ‘I told you so’ look, Lois turned away to her partner.
“Clark? We should be off to meet the source,” she reminded her partner and best friend. She suspected she had deeper feelings for him but wasn’t sure if she should act on them. She watched as Clark rose from his seat, tucking his notepad into his coat pocket but then he slumped back down, clutching his head in his hands.
“What’s wrong?” Lois asked, rushing to his side.
“Headache…”
“Oh! I thought you looked a little pale when you arrived… do you need aspirin?” Lois asked, rummaging through her bag for the medicine.
Clark shook his head. “No… not aspirin. Won’t work on me. Listen, you go meet the source, Lois. I’ll type the article for the sidebar out and mail it to Perry. And then I’ll probably head back home… I’m not well,” he said wincingly, the pain evident in his voice.
“Aren’t you gonna see a doctor?” Lois asked softly. She stepped forward to place the back of her hand on his forehead and then exclaimed, “Clark! You’re burning up. You better go home right now… the sidebar can wait.”
Clark hesitated briefly, but then nodded. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand on the table for support and tried to lift himself up off the chair. Lois watched him with anxiety as he swayed unsteadily for a moment, but then relaxed as he smiled to assure her that he could make the short distance to Perry’s office on his own. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she walked towards the elevator.
As she waited for the elevator car to come up, Lois thought of how different Clark was from the other men she knew. She had been blind and not seen what a wonderful man he was. Remembering their almost date, she wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t been sick. Would they have kissed? Or cuddled while watching a movie? Or… made love?
Shucks! Where had
that thought come from?
She
did not think about making love to Clark Kent!
Okay… probably just once. Or twice. Or a hundred times.
No!
Besides, nobody made love on their first date. It was just her imaginations running wild. Clark would never think of that on a first date.
Lois thought of how Clark had taken care of her when she’d been sick after eating that take-away food from Ralph’s Pagoda. He hadn’t run out to meet their source alone while she’d been puking in the bathroom. He’d stayed with her all night, rubbing her belly soothingly and placing a warm cloth on it to relieve her pain.
The moment that thought entered her, Lois realized how selfish she was being. She was putting work before her relationship with Clark again. They were on the verge of something novel and sweet, and had shared an almost-date just a week back, toasting their friendship… and yet here she was, turning her back on her friend-who-might-be-more when he might need her.
Ignoring the loud ding that indicated the arrival of the elevator car, Lois turned around and walked back. It was more than just guilt or the need to reciprocate that drove her back, she realized belatedly. It was concern for the well-being of someone she cared about a lot. Someone she might be in love with. And, she realized further, she’d never felt this way about anybody.
A moment later, a concerned Lois walked back towards Perry’s office. She was a bit surprised to see the blinds closed – Perry never did that unless he was discussing something highly confidential. But, she thought, if Clark was in there, then so could she be.
Throwing open the door to Perry’s room, Lois entered without invitation.
“Perry? I just came to say you ought to give Clark a couple of days off. In fact, I’d appreciate if– What’s wrong?” she stopped in mid-sentence.
Her gaze settled on Clark, and then on Perry, who was looking more than a little agitated at her sudden appearance.
“Lois, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?”
“Yes, but…”
Perry waved her away impatiently. “Clark has already asked me… in fact, I just decided to give him some time off,” he said, looking pointedly at Clark. “But he doesn’t want to accept a sick-leave, it seems…”
Lois knew she’d just been dismissed by Perry and was contemplating silently if she should stay, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to leave.
“Chief, I can be back tomor–” Clark interrupted, but his words halted as he was hit by a sudden spell of dizziness and his head whirled. Lois automatically took a step forward as if to reach him, but stopped in time. She didn’t want the men to realize that she was still in the room.
“Son, are you okay?” Perry had walked around the table towards him and his face was etched with something more than just concern for an ordinary employee with an ordinary headache. He helped Clark to the sofa on the other side of the office.
A moment later, Clark nodded weakly. Lois sighed in relief, but staggered as he took a deep breath and let it out with such a force that the picture and the tinted windows on the opposite wall rattled and an expensive vase staggered so dangerously that for a moment she thought it was going to topple off the table and crash. Phew! That was one huge breath. How did he do it?
Clark squirmed as if he’d been cornered when Perry sat beside him on a chair. Lois sensed his unease from the way he kept running his hand over his forehead. And why was Perry staring at him like that?
“Son, I know what I’m talking about… and that a couple of days won’t cure you of getting exposed to
the rock,” Perry said cryptically, in a low voice that barely reached Lois. It felt as though what he was talking was meant for Clark’s ears only. Lois frowned as she strained to hear more without catching attention. The chief’s words didn’t make much sense to her.
Rock?
The Rock? They weren’t talking about
the wrestler, were they? Or was it the brand-name of a medicine?
It was then that Lois realized Perry knew more about Clark than he let on. His strange disappearances and subsequent reappearances – sometimes looking haggard and yet sometimes looking rejuvenated – it all suddenly made sense to her. Everything fell into place. Clark Kent was under some powerful medication. The discovery sent her mind reeling. Oh God, was Clark seriously ill? Why hadn’t she known, when it seemed Perry did?
In her shock, she missed half of what Perry was saying.
“–think of Metropolis, son… Think. What would happen to the world without you?” Perry advised gently.
‘The
world ?’ Lois thought incredulously. Why would it affect the city or the world if it didn’t have Clark Kent in it?
She turned to Clark for some kind of explanation from him, to see his reaction. She’d just opened her mouth to ask him when she saw him rise slowly with surprise and alarm engraved deeply on his face.
Lois took a step back.
Clark looked flabbergasted and… why, he actually looked devastated!
There was a momentary silence in the room where Lois found herself staring stupidly at the two men from the doorway. She was no longer part of their conversation. She might as well have been a wall, judging from the way the men were waging a silent war, and that irked Lois to no end. She wasn’t used to being ignored, but she still remained a silent spectator.
“You
know,” Clark stated finally, in a calm voice that belied the tension in the room.
“Ever since Clyde Barrow walked back from the other side,” Perry clarified. “I’ve told you I’m not the chief here just because I can yodel,” Perry muttered with the air of a man who didn’t like being underestimated. Then he smiled and continued gently, like a father to his son, “And Clark, before you ask… I know the importance of the burden you have been carrying on your shoulders, and you don’t have to worry about people getting it out of me. I’m trustworthy.”
“I know, and it’s not about trust, Chief… it’s just… I haven’t ever told anyone…” Clark said, panting for breath and collapsing back into his seat as though the entire situation was too much for his nerves. “I… don’t know what to say,” he finally said, looking lost.
“It’s alright, Son. As I was saying, you best see a doctor right now because we all need you completely recovered. I don’t want to write you another obituary with these hands.” Perry tried to joke, but his eyes betrayed the pain that he’d felt when Clark had been reported to have been killed by the Al Capone gang.
“Yes, Sir,” Clark bowed his head to accede to the older man’s wishes and pushed his chair back to stand. Lois knew the exact moment when he noticed her, still standing by the door. He eyed her warily, absently rubbed his aching forehead. She knew he was wondering how much she’d heard and what her reaction would be. Lois pursed her lips and jutted her chin out defiantly.
Perry, too, turned to Lois and stood still for a moment, before recovering enough to say, “Ah Lois, you’re still here?”
“I couldn’t help it,” she said with a scowl that was due to being treated insignificantly. She still wasn’t sure what was wrong with her best-friend and why she hadn’t been told before, and that made her want to hit either or both of the men in the room hard.
“I suppose you heard all of it?”
Lois nodded slowly, seething inside and clenching her fingers.
“Well… as you know, Clark’s ill and I want you to extend any help that he needs over the next few days,” Perry ordered her, trying to act casually. “In fact, you can accompany Clark to the hospital if he wants…”
“Wait a minute!” Lois broke in through gritted teeth. “That’s all you’re gonna tell me? You’re saying I have no right to know more if Clark’s ill or in danger… I’m his
friend!”
She glared at Clark as though she wanted to kill him, but he wasn’t listening or even looking at her. He had that funny expression pasted on his face, which meant he was going to bolt from the room any moment now. “Oh no, you don’t! Clark Kent, if you leave now–”
“Chief… Lois… it’s Diana Stride,” he said in an urgent tone, his breath rattling feverishly.
“What? How do–” Lois asked sharply, but Clark held up a hand to forestall her.
“She’s here looking for me. She’s dangerous, Chief. I think she suspects that I am… you know… I also think she’s placed some sort of tracer on me, to track me… I need to go,” he finished desperately.
“Oh! In that case, please feel free to use the window,” Perry said, smiling. “And I’ll take care of dear Diana.”
Clark placed a feverish hand on the small of Lois’ back to guide her towards the window.
“I’m not moving out of here unless I know what’s goin–” Lois protested, but her words died on her lips as she watched the pain etched on Clark’s face.
“I need your help…”
Oh dear! He really was sick, Lois thought, biting her lip in concern. “Clark, I’m your friend. Of course I’ll help–”
“I think I might have enough energy to
fly us to the hospital, but later… if the doctor asks you to make some serious decisions and I’m not strong enough, please believe that I trust you to make the correct choice.”
“I… I,” Lois stuttered, alarmed by his grave tone and serious expression as she tried to digest what he’d just said. What decisions did he mean? She wanted to ask but hesitated. She’d have to wait and wring out explanations later when he was well enough to handle a kick in his butt from her boot. She’d oblige for now, though she couldn’t fathom how they were going to get out through the
window unless…
Why, of course! Clark was going to contact Superman! That’s what he meant by flying to the hospital. And this time she’d get to see how he did it.
Excited, Lois walked to the window that overlooked the road, intending to draw up the blinds and await Superman but Clark called out, making her halt in her tracks. His voice was different – stronger than Clark’s, yet familiar enough – almost like... Lois turned around in time to watch a blur of red and blue. When it stopped, Superman stood before her.
“And while you are there at the hospital,” he said, staring hard at her to make his point, “please call me Superman.”
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February 14th, 3:45 AM Lois was no longer in the same shocked state that she’d been during that short, unsteady flight to Metropolis General Hospital. She’d found that Clark relied more on her judgment than his own as his body had slowly succumbed to the poison within him. She’d caught on quickly that he’d been infected by kryptonite –
the rock – and that it had been slowly eating up his cells.
Initially, she hadn’t been able to accept that Clark and Superman were the same person. And once her mind had found its way around the *little* fact that she’d been lied to for the past couple of years, she’d been so busy worrying over his health that she’d forgotten to be mad. But every time she’d called him ‘Superman’ in front of the doctors, her heart had screamed that it was ‘Clark’, her best friend, lying there, powerless and helpless.
When she’d called them, Clark’s parents had wanted to come, but to the world it wasn’t Clark Kent who was sick; it was Superman. And their presence at the hospital would have seemed odd. So the worried, older couple had stayed back and Lois had called them regularly to keep them updated about their son’s condition. When the doctors had suggested the nuclear treatment, she’d called them again for their approval. They had been her rock during the entire ordeal, just as she’d probably been theirs.
When Clark had whispered her name hoarsely as he’d been carried away to the nuclear reactor, she’d almost broken down and cried – almost, but not quite. Because she’d known that she had to be strong for him – he needed a friend, not a clingy, weeping woman in his arms.
Lois had pondered a lot over the past couple of days. It had been very difficult for Clark; it hadn’t been as easy as using a letter-opener to get rid of a kryptonite bullet latched in his shoulder for her either. He’d needed her assistance for every little thing – from using the bathroom to eating his food. He’d been so exhausted that he’d spent most of the first day on his return from the hospital sleeping. She wondered if he even remembered the soft kiss she’d placed on his forehead or the way she’d cuddled him for most of that night because she’d felt that he slept better that way.
He’d been a bit better yesterday, had attended to his personal care by himself. Still, when he’d slept, he’d held her hand throughout the night while she’d sat on a chair beside the bed, combing an errant lock of hair back from his forehead.
Today, he’d improved much – so much that he’d taken a quick shower and hadn’t needed her help when he had eaten every bit of the diet the doctor had prescribed. Nor had he needed her to sit beside him when he’d gone to sleep, late in the evening.
The doctor had told her that even though the kryptonite that had been poisoning his system had been successfully destroyed by the nuclear exposure, his powers might not be restored for a while. She’d been secretly – guiltily – glad that she’d get to spend some time with him. But at the rate he was improving, he’d probably regain his powers by tomorrow, and then just fly away… from her apartment and her life.
It was a selfish thought, she knew, but she couldn’t help feeling that way. She ached to be the one woman in his life, for him to need her as much as she needed him. And they hadn’t even officially dated yet.
Lois rolled her eyes at that sarcastic notion. She was his best friend. They didn’t have to date each other for her to love him!
Wait a minute! She didn’t
love him… or did she?
Okay, she loved Superman, but so what? Everybody loved Superman.
‘You love Clark Kent, too,’ a tiny voice from her heart taunted her.
Damn!
With an adorable mixture of handsomeness and clumsiness, he’d been somebody who always fought with her and yet when required, fought for her. He made mistakes, but was man enough to admit them. He was the only one who’d stood up to her as easily as he stood by her; the only man whom she called every night just to hear his voice before going to sleep... He had sneaked into her heart like a thief without meaning to, and she’d fallen for him without wanting to.
Damn!
That sounded just like love.
She loved Clark Kent. Hell, she’d even gotten over her Superman fantasies to be with Clark!
But, he’d never believe her now.
He’d think that she loved him for being able to fly, and he’d be hurt by her shallowness.
Guilt and shame washed over her as she recalled how she’d thrown herself at him whenever he’d been in the blue suit and treated him like dirt when he wasn’t. All the while, he’d just pretended to be a normal man with short-sightedness, who wore a loose-fitting, geeky outfit to distract everybody from his secret, and had probably taken up this job as a reporter so he could keep track of any major news or issues that would require his intervention. She hadn’t known that, but that wasn’t an excuse; she *had* behaved appallingly.
But since then, she’d genuinely started liking him. They’d had wonderful working-chemistry and the physical attraction – the spark that she’d openly acknowledged only when he was in the suit – had been there since the beginning. She’d woken up from her sleep on countless nights drenched in sweat and yearning for him. Sometimes Superman would fly her to the moon in her dreams, but in others, a charming, bespectacled lover would take her past the moon and the stars… to heaven.
It was Clark Kent.
Her Clark Kent. That was how she’d started referring to him in her mind, nourishing an infinitesimally tiny, unacknowledged hope that they may grow from friends to more.
But, not anymore.
It had all seemed possible when she had known him as her best friend, with human needs and limitations. But… he wasn’t just that anymore, was he? He was
Superman, for heaven’s sake. Her hero, the flawless man whom she worshipped; he was perfection with a human form – gentle, caring, beautiful, talented, honest... and Lord, he could fly!
How could she measure up to that, even if he believed her?
Lois sniffed as she felt the despair of a drowning sailor as huge waves of hopelessness lashed at her.
Maybe it was all for the best…
He’d been a great friend to her. He’d saved her life countless times, not to mention that if he hadn’t saved her from a disastrous wedding, she’d have now been the trophy-wife of a criminal.
Now it was her turn to be that friend. Because, that was all she could ever hope to be. She’d bury all the romantic feelings for him, because if he ever knew the truth, she’d lose him. And that was the worst thing that could ever happen to her – worse than death.
Friendship.
That was the reason he was here – in her apartment rather than being in his own with Diana Stride investigating him without his knowledge. That was the reason she’d searched for the secret compartment where he hid his blue suits and packed them off to Perry’s for safekeeping. It had been a stroke of luck that she’d found the tracer he’d mentioned on the suit he’d been wearing and destroyed it immediately. So, even if Diana Stride put two and two together from Clark Kent’s absence at the Daily Planet and decided to track him, Lois had made sure that that old witch wouldn’t find any evidence that Superman was, in fact, Clark Kent.
All that had been a piece of cake – tackling criminals was something she did on a regular basis. What she found difficult was to stop loving him. As he grew stronger and stronger by each passing hour, Lois felt as if her time with her fantasy was coming to an end and anytime now she’d be doused in the cold water called ‘reality’.
She’d no longer be able to touch him as freely as she’d done when he was sick. Her kisses, her caresses would be mistaken. She had to practice hiding her true feelings from him and assure him that she still thought of him only as a friend. If she were lucky, it would probably become easier with time…
A soft snore from the man occupying her thoughts brought her back to the present.
Lois fought the urge to touch him, to place her lips on his forehead and kiss his aches away. One last time…
Oh God, she hadn’t thought it was going to be this difficult… She had to stop loving him, she told herself again. It was just sympathy that she felt for him right now… the undeniable urge to take care of him, to hold him until he was better, to love him... like a friend. It wasn’t love. Not love. Not love. Not love.
Maybe, if she repeated that to herself a thousand times a day, she’d start believing it.
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TBC------------------------
I did some research and found out that Top Copy was aired on Feb 19, 1995, five days after Valentine's Day. I thought I'd just have to advance the date by one week to fit my story. I hope nobody minds that one teeny-weeny tampering.
After all, IMHO, Valentine's Day is one great 'holiday'! 
