Well, this was awkward.
The young people hadn’t been alone together since before this entire episode began. And now they needed to make possibly the most life-altering decision of their lives. A decision that would both impact them each individually and determine the course of their future relationship and family. Which was especially odd given that, up until the day of The Switch, they hadn’t really had much of a relationship to begin with.
“Lois,” “CJ,” they both began at the same time. Each giving the other a sheepish smile, Lois nodded to CJ to go first.
“First off, please, while it’s just the two of us here, I’d rather you call me ‘Clark.’ That’s the name I’ve always gone by.”
“Sure.”
They were both quiet for a moment, neither knowing at all how to begin. Before the silence could grow strained, Clark asked, “Do you mind if we don’t talk just yet? I think we could both use a few minutes to just think first.”
“Sure.” Lois wondered if that was all she was capable of saying any more, but Clark didn’t seem to mind.
Clark started to sit in one of the armchairs, then seemed surprised to realize that he was still wearing the Superman suit. “Excuse me,” he said quietly, and in a blur of color he was dressed in his jeans again. Even that spin-change thing seemed subdued, if such a thing were possible.
Clark sat in the wingback chair that Mr. Wells had occupied earlier. It gave him the illusion of solitude. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair, his forehead leaned on his clasped hands. Lois wandered over to the tank and watched the fish swim. They were different fish from the ones she used to have. That was to be expected after ten years, she thought vaguely. The room was silent, save for the indistinct murmer of voices leaking through the closed kitchen door.
After about ten minutes, Clark rose from his seat and meandered slowly around the room, his eyes sliding over the books and photographs on the shelves. He came to a stop in front of the same family snapshot that had sent Lois running up the stairs the night before. They looked so happy—Clark, Lois, Sam, Jon, and little Lara. Carefully, he reached out and grasped the picture, bringing it close for a better look. He was suddenly aware of Lois’s presence as she gazed past his shoulder at the photo. Her tone was gentle, which surprised him at first.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Her words lacked any sense of accusation or challenge. It was a simple, honest question. It deserved a simple, honest answer.
“It’s what I’ve always wanted. A normal life, a family. Until Lo told me, I wasn’t even sure I could have kids.”
“You could have it, you know. All we have to do is let Mr. Wells take us back before any of this happened. We won’t remember a thing. We’ll go about our lives just like they did, and in ten years, voila! Here we’ll be.” The option wasn’t her first choice, and she certainly wouldn’t have let the older Clark just railroad her into it as he had tried to do, but she knew she wasn’t the only one who would have to live with the consequences of whatever decision they came to, and she needed to find out what this Clark, her Clark, really wanted.
They were both still staring at that happy family. Was that what he wanted? To lose everything he’d learned over the last few weeks, everything he’d become, in exchange for the guarantee of the happy ending? It might seem the obvious choice—it certainly had to his older self—and there was no guarantee that he could ever have that happy ending any other way. This Lois Lane had barely tolerated him only recently, and he had no idea how she’d react to him now. He wasn’t even certain how he felt about her, let alone how she might feel about him. Of course she did know that he was Superman now. But that just brought up another complication. If they went back, erased everything that had happened since the switch, their relationship could develop gradually, as is must have done before. But it just didn’t sit right.
“It feels like cheating.” He was almost surprised to hear himself voice the thought aloud.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Going back, living out some pre-ordained future. It would feel like winning with loaded dice.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” she argued. “It wouldn’t feel any different for us than it did for them. Because we wouldn’t know anything about it. We’d just think we were living it all for the first time. We’d become them.”
“It feels different now,” he insisted. “And now is when we have to choose.”
They were both silent for another minute or two, just absorbing that idea. Her next question surprised him.
“Is it true?”
He turned his head toward her and tried to think what she might mean by that. “What, that I’m Superman? You saw for yourself, Lois. Of course it’s true.”
“No, not that. I know you’re Superman,” she said almost dismissively. “Is it true what Clark told me?”
“What did he tell you?” He turned his whole body to face her now, setting the photo back on the shelf. Whatever she was talking about, it was important and it required his undivided attention.
She lowered her eyes. It cost her a lot to ask, to display her vulnerability in front of him, but the answer could be the determining factor in this discussion. She needed to know. “Is it true that you fell for me the first time you saw me? That it was because of me that you stayed in Metropolis?” She raised her eyes to meet his. Her voice became steadier and her last question was almost a challenge. “Is it true that you loved me from the beginning?”
After all his own pining after Lois Lane Kent, after all his soul-searching, trying to identify his own feelings for this Lois Lane, all it took was the audacity of that question, the sheer bravery of asking it point-blank, and he had his answer.
“Yes.” What else could he say? It was the simple truth. And, for the first time since they had met, this seemed the time for truth between them.
“But you love Her more.” So this was it; all the cards on the table. It might make things simpler if he lied, but he knew what this woman had risked by even asking, and he couldn’t repay her with anything less than complete honesty.
“I thought so, for a time. I don’t any more.”
“Really? What changed your mind?” She wasn’t going to take his word for it. The older Clark had been right; she wasn’t going to settle for being a stand-in. Nor should she.
Clark led Lois to the sofa and took a seat next to her. Not too close, but closer than they had been during the earlier discussion with Clark and Lane. He turned his body to face her. He barely understood his own thoughts on this topic, but he owed her his best effort at putting them into words.
“Just now, when we were having our little thinking break,” he began, “one of the things I thought about was *why* she seemed different than you. It isn’t because she’s older, more experienced. I mean, she knew a lot of things from having been through them before, but that’s not what attracted me to her. I think the reason I liked her so much is because she let me. I still think there are things she didn’t show me, but mostly she was her real self with me. No walls, no games. And I was myself with her. I don’t think she’s a fundamentally different person from you. I’m sure she’s learned some things over the years, but then, so has He. But I don’t believe that people radically change their personalities as they grow up. I just think she doesn’t hide who she really is from me. She’s my friend.”
“So you figure if I were my real self with you, you would love me just as much?”
“That’s what I think, yeah. I know I’m attracted to you.” Both of them blushed at that direct admission. “But we don’t know each other very well. I don’t want to pressure you, either. I have a feeling it took Her a while to open up to Him. And vice-versa.”
And, he had something he needed to confess. “I haven’t been fair to you, Lois.” She raised a questioning eyebrow. “Before all this began, I mean. I saw something about you, something that drew me in and made me want to know everything about you. But I only got glimpses of who you really were. You’re very good at hiding it. I should know; I’m probably the world’s expert at hiding who I am. But I was a hypocrite. I’d been trying to get you to trust me, to let me see the real you, and all the time I’d been hiding my real self from you. That’s not fair. I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing until Lo showed me what it’s like to really be myself with someone. Other than my parents, that is. Maybe that’s part of why I don’t really want to go back to where we were. It was really great to have a friend who knew me for all of who I am. I don’t want to go back to hiding. Not from you.
Lois looked thoughtful for a moment, mulling over all that he had told her. Finally, she said in a quiet voice, “Clark was real with me. That’s what made me love him, I think.”
“It wasn’t because you found out he was Superman?” Maybe it wasn’t a fair question, but he really didn’t want to start out competing with his own creation. He needed to know where he stood with her. <See, Clark,> he thought, <there’s more than one way to be jealous of yourself.>
A day ago Lois would have been offended at the very question. But Clark wasn’t the only one who had been thinking about what made their older counterparts so appealing. She had asked herself the same thing. Her feelings for Clark Kent had changed so much in such a short time. Why? When she had thought she was married to Clark Kent, had she only accepted it, only let herself start to love him back, because he was her hero in disguise?
“No. I didn’t find out Clark was Superman until late last night. We didn’t even know I had travelled through time. We thought I *was* Her. I thought I had amnesia and had lost ten years of memories. And I didn’t even tell him that part until we’d already spent all evening together. So for hours he was just being himself. Because he thought I already knew him. And, you know what, Clark? Clark Kent being his real self is a pretty great guy.”
“You’re not disappointed, then?” Clark ventured. He was starting to feel a little more hopeful, but he still needed some reassurance on the Superman front.
Lois gave a little frown of confusion. “Disappointed? That you’re a great guy? Why would I be disappointed? Embarrassed is more like it. I can’t believe how awful I was to you, all the while mooning over Superman.”
“That’s what I mean, Lois. You’re not disappointed that Superman is really just me? You had this perfect heroic image to adore, but it turns out the man behind the curtain is really just your greenhorn colleague.”
She shook her head at him. “Not the man behind the curtain, Clark. Superman is not just a mirage like the Wizard, and you’re no humbug. You’re the man *inside* the Suit. All those wonderful things that Superman does, *you* are the man who’s really doing them, Clark. You just don’t get the credit for it.”
Six weeks ago, Clark might have argued that point. He might have insisted that Superman was what he could *do,* Clark Kent was who he *was.* But his weeks of sharing the superhero burden with Lois Lane Kent had shown him that the two parts of his public life couldn’t be so neatly separated in private. Even though he’d been Clark Kent longer, the things that Superman said and did, and the things he saw and heard, shaped his soul just as much as his civilian life. The amazing part was that she saw it too. This truth that had taken him weeks to learn, this Lois had picked up in a day.
“You really get it. You really see what it’s like to be me.” If he sounded surprised, it was because he was. He’d enjoyed that level of understanding from Lo for weeks, but he’d never expected it from his own Lois Lane. He’d underestimated her. He realized that her brilliant intuition, this ability to make amazing leaps of understanding, was something he hadn’t seen as much of from his older friend. She hadn’t needed it, since she had been through the same events before. But it was shining through full-force in this younger Lois. He was starting to remember why he’d loved her at first sight.
Lois rolled her eyes and teased, “What did you expect? I was married to you for a whole day.”
She had meant it to lighten the mood, but her remark had the opposite effect. A sudden awareness enveloped the pair. They just stared at each other, both of them speechless and feeling almost trapped by the weight of the other’s knowledge. How did you make a first impression on someone who already knew what you’d be like in ten years? How did you negotiate a new relationship with your future spouse?
In unison, Lois and Clark each shook their heads as if coming out of a trance. Clark spoke up first. “We can’t do this to ourselves. If we’re going to go back to November, knowing everything we know now, we’ve got to get it straight in our heads that we’re not Them.”
Lois gave a determined little nod. “You’re right. I mean, that’s the whole point, right? If we wanted to be them, we’d go back to October 8 or something. The whole point of keeping our memories is that we want to be us, to be free to make our own choices and chart our own future. We don’t even know if we’ll end up together. Just because they did, it doesn’t mean we have to, right? I mean, it’s not like we’re going to fly off to Vegas and get married tomorrow, is it?”
Oh, no. She couldn’t believe she’d actually said that. She’d let her mouth run away from her brain again. One hand covering her mouth, Lois took a hesitant peek, not even daring to guess how Clark would react to that little slip. To her surprise, he was smiling.
“No, we’re not. But I hope we’re not going to go back to the way we used to treat each other, either.” He said it almost tentatively, as if he weren’t certain of her reaction.
“No, we’re not,” she agreed emphatically. “We’re not going backward at all. Let’s just try to forget about Them and just be…us. Going forward.”
“You got it, partner.” Clark held out his right hand with a smile. He seemed to be shaking hands a lot today.
Lois reached to shake Clark’s hand. Both of them felt the spark that jumped between them at the physical contact. Oh, yeah, there was *something* there. But it needed time—time for the two of them to get used to each other and probably some space away from their older selves as well. But, each of them thought privately, it had to be a good sign.
“Partner?” Lois questioned.
“Oh, that’s right. You weren’t there. Perry’s teamed us up as more or less regular work partners. Lo protested at first, but I think she was just trying to stay in character. Our writing styles work pretty well together.”
“Yeah, I saw that. I read a lot of Their joint pieces when I was at the Planet yesterday.”
Relieved that Lois wasn’t going to argue the point and glad for the opportunity to end the intense exchange they had just been through and return the conversation to more predictable ground, Clark began to fill Lois in on all the things she had missed in the last six weeks.
