Oh, oh. This was not good. She knew this hadn’t happened before. She had said something wrong, and now she was going to have to explain it to one very concerned young Clark Kent. <No, to *Superman!* Remember that!>
She saw almost at once where he was taking her. Her apartment. Ah, yes. Just the place for Superman to have a private conversation with Lois Lane. Her living room window was open, and Superman carried her through it and deposited her—not as gently as he might have, she couldn’t help noticing—on her old white loveseat. Then, rather than inquiring after her welfare, or making a quick exit out her window, he did something very un-Superman-like. Something very Clark-like, in fact. He paced. About every two turns he would look at her, open his mouth as if about to speak, close it again, and continue pacing. Finally, after half a dozen turns about her very small living room, he stopped directly in front of her.
Kneeling on the floor in front of where she sat with her feet tucked under her, he placed both hands on the front of the sofa seat, one on either side of her, effectively, if unconsciously, trapping her where she sat. And he began to plead.
“Lois, that’s twice this week that you have called me ‘Clark’ when I’m dressed like this. I don’t know how you found out, or what your intentions are, but I am begging you: please don’t print what you know.”
“Superman, I don’t know what you mean. I don’t know anything beyond what you’ve told me in interviews, and you know I wouldn’t print anything without clearing it with you first.”
In answer, he reached behind his back and pulled out a battered wallet. When he placed it carefully in her lap, it was open to a photograph of Jonathan and Martha. “Please, Lois, if not for my sake, then for theirs.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Superman. And what are you doing with a picture of Clark Kent’s parents?”
She saw her mistake when his face went pale.
“How do you know what Clark Kent’s parents look like? Have you been investigating them as well?” His voice was shaking, but he took a breath and got himself under control.
He rolled his eyes heavenward and heaved a sigh. “Lois, you know I have superhuman hearing. I can hear your heartbeat. Did you know that? And, God help me, I can pick your particular heartbeat out in a crowded room. I know that you have been lying, to me and to a lot of other people, for the last few days—ever since the ceremony with the Deputy Mayor and Lex Luthor. I know that you have been anxious when you should have been calm and calm when you should have been surprised. I know that you have reacted to Clark Kent’s presence in the same way that you have Superman’s. And I know that you are lying to me now.
"So, I’m asking you again, please, tell me what you know, how you know it, whether anyone else knows, and what you intend to do about it.”
The gig was up. How had she ever imagined that she could fool this man? But she still had her family, her children, her future to protect. Should she come clean with him now? Wasn’t it already too late to save the timeline? Maybe, but maybe not. Maybe she could give him just enough to satisfy him now and it wouldn’t change too much. She still had a shot at preserving her future, only now, she was going to need his help to do it.
Gently, tenderly, she reached for his hands and pulled him to sit beside her on that damned uncomfortable loveseat. Still holding his hands in hers, she turned to face him, took a deep breath, and began.
“Clark, you’re right.” She felt him flinch, but she tightened her grip on his hands and went on. “I do know who you are. But please believe me when I say that I have absolutely no intention of publishing your identity. I can’t tell you how I know.”
“Lois,” he began, but she interrupted him.
“Clark, please. I know you are desperate to protect your secret. I know you fear for your family. And your privacy. I promise, I would never do anything to endanger your folks, or to expose your secret. But I have secrets of my own, and my family is in just as much danger as yours if my secret gets out, even to you. So, I’m asking you to trust me. I can’t tell you how I know, but I can assure you that no one else knows and that your secret is safe with me.”
He hesitated, not truly satisfied with her answer, but in the end he seemed to realize that he didn’t have another option. Reluctantly, he nodded his acquiescence.
“All right, Lois. I don’t like it, but I don’t see that I have much choice. What do we do now? Can we just pretend that you don’t know? That this conversation never happened?”
”Not only can we, Clark, we must. For my family’s sake, we have to pretend that Lois Lane has no clue that her greenhorn work colleague and her hero in a cape are one and the same man.”
“Why…” he began, but she cut him off again.
“Please, Clark, I can’t say any more than I have. I only hope I haven’t said too much already.”
Finally he nodded. “All right, Lois. I’ll play along for now. But I still don’t like it.”
That was probably as good as she was going to get, so it would have to do. She stood up, drawing him with her by one hand before letting him go and heading for her front door. “Come on then, partner, we’ve got a story to write.” As she began working her way down the row of locks, she turned back to add, “You might want to change first.”
*****
Lois was as good as her word. For the next few days, she behaved exactly as if Clark Kent and Superman were two separate people. Or, at least, she never treated Clark Kent as if he were Superman. Clark hadn’t seen her as Superman since that cryptic conversation in her apartment. If he wasn’t still watching her closely, he might have come to doubt that conversation ever took place.
As it was, he was sure that he was the only person who caught the subtle changes in her heart rate when she talked about Superman: “I don’t even know if Superman gambles,” and—he still didn’t know why this was such a touchy subject—marriage. Or maybe it was partnership. She’d been giving Perry White her best arguments about why a partnership between Lois Lane and Clark Kent would never work. “Partnership is like marriage…” she’d said, and her pulse gave a little jump. But afterwards, when he was teasing her and reassuring her that it wouldn’t be that bad, she had countered that it would, but he could tell that she didn’t believe her own line. Why was she pretending to be adamantly opposed to this partnership when he could tell that her prediction of doom was a lie?
He was relieved to see that her well-known admiration of Superman didn’t stop her from arguing with Clark just as strongly as ever. She obviously got a kick out of putting him in his place in their debate over the Mason-Rodriguez fight. And she egged him on to get in the ring with Tommy Garrison. But then she was genuinely concerned when it looked like they might actually come to blows. To everyone else it looked like she was concerned for Clark’s safety. But she could have been just as concerned for Garrison’s safety, or at least for Clark’s secret. And she was right; Clark had to control his temper or he could easily hurt someone, or at least give himself away.
On their way out of Mencken’s Gym they ran into Sam Lane. That was a very strange conversation. Both Lois and Dr. Lane were obviously uncomfortable. It seemed as though neither of them knew how to act around the other. Clark remembered the remark Lois had made in her apartment, “I have secrets of my own, and my family is in just as much danger as yours if my secret gets out.” Did her secret have something to do with Dr. Lane? Was the doctor in some kind of danger?
Part of him wanted to press her for more information; he wanted to help. But another part of him remembered that whatever Lois was hiding involved Clark as well, and he just wasn’t sure he could trust her. After all, she had recognized the photo of Clark’s parents, which meant she had probably been doing some serious investigation of Clark Kent. He supposed she might have seen it by accident at some point, but he couldn’t be sure. And, in any case, she had somehow found out The Secret. He wasn’t ready to trust her, at least not completely, and since he couldn’t offer his own trust to her, he didn’t feel he could ask her to confide her secrets to him.
If Clark was waffling over whether to risk a more open stance with Lois, a chance remark from Jimmy Olsen helped him make up his mind. Clark was on his way back to his desk with a cup of coffee one afternoon when Jimmy asked, “Hey CK, any luck on that source Lois is trying to track down?”
“What source?”
“You know, that HGW she keeps advertising for?”
“HGW?”
“Never mind.” Jimmy seemed to realize that Clark wasn’t in on this loop, and he tried to back out, but Clark wasn’t about to let him off the hook.
“What do you mean by advertising?” Clark fixed Jimmy with his most authoritative Superman gaze. It lost something through the glasses, but it was good enough for Jimmy Olsen.
“Umm, well, it probably isn’t anything important. It’s just that Nancy—the cute redhead in classifieds?—mentioned that Lois has a running personal ad: ‘LLK needs to talk to HGW.’ Nancy only asked me about it because she was wondering why it was ‘LLK’ instead of just ‘LL’. So, I figured LLK was a new code name for Lane and Kent.”
“Oh! That source! Nope, we haven’t heard back yet, but it was a long shot anyway. Nothing for you to worry about,” Clark lied.
“Okay, well, like I said, it was no big deal. I’ll catch you later, CK.”
Normally, Clark would think nothing of Lois contacting sources on her own. But this time, with the big deal Perry had made of teaming them up together, and his own worry about what Lois was hiding and what she planned to do with his secret…well, he might be a little paranoid, but it just didn’t feel right. He wondered whether he should risk upsetting the apple cart by asking Lois about her ad.
As luck would have it, Lois took the decision out of his hands. As the last stragglers were leaving the office that evening, Lois approached Clark’s desk.
”Hey, partner, it’s getting late and we’ve still got a ways to go here. How about you rustle us up some Chinese take-out and we move this party into the conference room?” Her request sounded casual, but her heart was pounding.
“Dinner sounds great, but how about eating at that new Mexican place down the street? They’re pretty quick, and we’d still have plenty of time to finish up here afterwards.”
Lois leaned in and spoke for his ears only. “Actually, I’m expecting a phone call here, but I really need to talk with you first. Privately.”
“Oh. I see.” Or he hoped he would see. If she was finally ready to confide in him. She sure seemed nervous about it. “I’ll be back with the food in two shakes.”
When Clark returned with half a dozen steaming bamboo containers, he found Lois pacing nervously around the conference room table. A few files and computer print-outs were strewn haphazardly on the table, but Clark knew they were just for show. Lois Lane had something on her mind, and it was making her more anxious than Clark had ever seen her before. Clark had just bitten into a dumpling when Lois finally stopped pacing and faced him, both of her hands planted on the table and her eyes meeting his with a direct gaze.
“There’s a serious flaw in my plan, and I need your help deciding what to do about it.”
