Well, I hadn't planned on writing this up since Female Hawk did such a nice job of it. I thought hers was more creative than this one. But, since she and Dragon asked so nicely, and since Shadow so enjoys seeing Clark tortured, I was thinking something along these lines:
There is something about a last day that heightens the senses. The very knowledge that this is the last time lends an uncanny significance to the most mundane act. That awareness runs like an internal narrator in the back of your mind. “This is the last time I’ll wake up in this room. This is the last time I’ll buy my morning coffee from Justin on this corner. This is my last time walking through the revolving doors of the Planet lobby.”
Clark had had many last days over the years. His last day at the elementary school, the junior high, the high school, Midwest U. Senior Day on the football team. He’d moved out of his parents’ house and four college dorm rooms.
Later, he’d had days that he hadn’t known were the last until they were almost over. Days that were only the last in retrospect. The last day in Tibet, in Nepal, in Borneo, in Australia. Those were days that ended in a hastily packed suitcase and a quick flight back to Smallville to regroup.
But this last day was different. It wasn’t a joyfully anticipated rite of passage. It wasn’t a bittersweet end to a season that had run its course. It wasn’t even a forced flight to preserve his secret. The secret was safe, thanks to Superman.
No, this last day was entirely his own choice. This was the last day that, for the first time in his life, would mark Clark Kent as a quitter. Clark called for the elevator. As he waited for it to carry him to the newsroom that had become so familiar to him in the last few weeks, Clark was assaulted with a stream of unwanted memories, as if his own mind was reminding him why he couldn’t stay.
The three of them. It was always the three of them. Ever since that very first story when Clark had flown out of that hangar with Jim and Lois tucked under each arm.
It was Jim and Lois and Clark landing in the mud puddle. Jim and Lois and Clark trapped in Trask’s plane, Clark diving after the pair when Trask threw them out. Jim and Lois working late when Clark wandered in, dejected and discouraged after that early story on the drive-by shooter.
“Whatever he can’t do, it doesn’t matter,” Lois had said. “It’s the idea of Superman. Someone to believe in. Someone to build a few hopes around.”
“Yeah, CK,” Jim had chimed in. “Whatever he can do, that’s enough.”
The three of them arguing over the existence of an invisible man, babysitting Alan Morris and sipping tea on Clark’s balcony. The three of them undercover at the Metro Club, Lois singing ‘I’ve Got a Crush on You’ straight to Jim as he sat in the audience, nursing the non-alcoholic drink that Clark has slipped him to keep him sober on the job. People around the newsroom were starting to call Clark the Third Amigo. He felt more like the third wheel.
The times when it wasn’t the three of them were worse. When the legwork had been done and it was time to write the story, Jim would take off for the darkroom, leaving Lois and Clark alone.
Clark had tried to put on a brave face. He’d tried to meet Lois’s gruff manner with his own snappy comebacks.
“Watch it, farmboy. Not even my husband edits my copy,” she’d told him.
“Your husband isn’t a writer,” he’d shot back.
“Neither are you,” she’d responded, giving his chest a slap. She meant it in fun, but to Clark it was torture.
But Perry White wanted him on the team, and, given what a chance Perry had taken by hiring him, he couldn’t refuse. Not that Lois was all that keen on the idea either.
“Partners?” He could hear Lois arguing with Perry in his memory.
“You and Kent. The experience of a battle-scarred veteran paired with the hunger of a fresh exciting new talent.”
“I’m not so scarred and he’s not so exciting.”
“Your tenacity, his tact. Trust me, the two of you, there’s chemistry there. It’ll make for better stories.”
“But Perry, partnership is like marriage, and I’ve already got a partner.”
“No, Lois. Partnership is not entirely like marriage. You’re right that they both take work.”
“Yes, and they both take patience, understanding, a willingness to be supportive.”
“I know. Fake it. Because I’ll tell you how they’re different: unlike marriage, a partnership can have more than two members. And, also unlike marriage, it’s the boss who picks the partners. Enough said.”
And that had been the end of that. Or rather the beginning. But it had to end. Clark couldn’t take one more day of working beside Jim Olsen and Lois Lane.
The soft ‘ping’ of the elevator doors brought him out of his reverie. Clark stepped out onto the bullpen’s landing, conscious of the resignation letter resting in the inner pocket of his suit coat. He felt like a heel. After everything that Perry White had done for him, he hated to leave him after so short a time. But it was necessary.
When it came right down to it, Clark didn’t trust himself enough to stay. At first he had hoped that his attraction to Lois Lane would fade with time. But it only grew stronger, despite his constant reminders to himself that it was completely out of line. She was a married woman, and Clark would *not* cross that line. Not with anyone, for any reason.
Besides, Jim Olsen was his friend. He’s welcomed Clark with open arms even before he was hired. And, unlike Lois, Jim seemed delighted that Perry had added Clark to the Hottest Team. Clark had never felt the slightest hint of jealousy from Jim, never had an inkling that Jim might be uncomfortable having Clark horn in on his working relationship with his wife. It was Lois who seemed to begrudge Clark’s presence. Maybe because Lois was the writer, and therefore had to work more closely with Clark and share the credit for their joint work.
It didn’t matter now. After today, she wouldn’t have to put up with him any more. He’d move on to the next city. Superman would keep patrolling Metropolis for a few weeks, then begin spreading his activities around more. Eventually Superman might make the move along with Clark. To Gotham, Center City, San Francisco, he didn’t much care where. He’d land on his feet—he always did. But his heart would never be the same.
Probably it was that black mood which explained what happened next. As Clark made his way on automatic pilot toward the coffee area, he was brought up short by the unexpected sight of Jim Olsen and Angela Dunkirk chatting over the donut box. The discussion involved the relative merits of cake donuts versus raised, but that wasn’t what made Clark lose his temper. It was the way Jim was leaning toward Angela, touching her on her arm, smiling and laughing as if she were the most fascinating woman to ever grace the snack corner with her presence.
This was insane. Jim Olsen was the luckiest man alive, married to the most beautiful, brilliant, heart-stopping woman on the planet, and he was flirting with some young research assistant as if were picking her up at the Ace of Clubs. Clark marched straight up to the offending pair, grasped Jim Olsen by the elbow, and, without uttering a word, marched him into the conference room and closed the door behind them.
Clark released Jim’s elbow. It was only with great effort that he refrained from tossing Jim bodily across the room in the process.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Clark demanded. He couldn’t believe how out of character Jim was acting.
Jim rubbed his elbow and directed his incredulous gaze at Clark. “I *was* getting a donut and a cup of coffee. What do you think *you’re* doing hauling me in here like I’m the class clown and you’re the principal?”
“You were not getting a donut; you were *flirting* with Angela. At work. In public. Where your *wife* might walk in at any moment. Your wife who deserves better than to have her *husband* act like he’s picking up girls at some sleazy bar when by rights he should be thanking God every day that he has the amazing good fortune to be married to Lois Lane!”
“Clark, I…” Jim trailed off, a look of sudden realization dawning on his face. “Oh my God. How did I not see it before now? Of course.”
Clark was nonplussed by Jim’s sudden change of tack. “See what?”
Jim was pointing an accusatory finger at Clark. “You’re in love with her!”
“Who? Angela? Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Not Angela, Clark. Lois. You are in love with my wife.”
Afterward, Clark would realize that Jim should have sounded angrier at that moment. Instead, he sounded as if he had just discovered the last piece of a puzzle that had been eluding him. But at the moment, Clark was too miserable to notice. All he could think of was his own guilt. His righteous indignation fled and he collapsed into the nearest chair.
“I’m sorry, Jim. I didn’t mean for it to happen.” At Jim’s look of surprise, Clark hastened to add, “Not that anything happened. I would never…Jim, you have to believe me…I never…”
Finding himself at a loss for words, Clark finally reached into his pocket and handed the letter to Jim.
“Here. You can give that to Perry for me. You don’t have to worry, Jim. I’m not staying.”
As he stood to take his leave, Clark heard Jim open the letter. He couldn’t look his friend in the eye. He ran his hand through his hair and turned to make his way to the door. The door which opened before him, revealing an impatient Lois Lane with one hand on the doorknob and the other on her hip.
“Would someone like to tell me what my two partners are doing in here and why neither of them is ready to go to our interview that starts in…” she glanced at her watch…”fifteen minutes?”
“I’m sorry, Lois. I have to go.” It was all Clark could manage. As he began to steer his way around Lois to make his escape, he was stopped by Jim’s voice from behind him.
“Clark, wait.” Funny. He didn’t sound angry. “Lois,” he heard Jim say, “it’s time.”
“Time for what, Jim?”
“Time for the announcement.”
“I thought we were going to do that after the interview.”
“We were, but things have changed.” He handed Lois Clark’s letter.
She skimmed it quickly and looked quietly from Clark to Jim and back again.
Still holding Clark’s gaze, she addressed her husband. “You’re right, Jim. The Beckworth School can wait. Come on, partners.”
A befuddled Clark followed Lois and Jim into the newsroom. Pulling Lois behind him, Jim trotted half-way up the ramp and turned to face the newsroom floor.
“May I have your attention, please? Everyone?” Lois’s piercing whistle brought a sudden silence to the room and every eye turned to the pair. Jim glanced at his wife with an amused “Thank you, honey.”
“As all of you know,” Jim began, “Lois and I have been married for the last four years, since the summer we both graduated from Met U’s journalism program. What most of you don’t know is why.” He paused to give his wife’s hand an encouraging squeeze. “In April, 1989, Lois’s parents, Sam and Ellen Lane, were killed in the crash of LexAir flight 1806 in the Colorado Rockies. Lois was 21 years old, but her sister, Lucy, was only 14. Lois was terrified that Lucy would be taken from her and placed in foster care. Lois was my best friend.” Jim gave his wife a tender glance. “She still is. It was my idea that if the two of us got married, Lois would have a better chance at gaining custody of her sister. As you can guess, it worked. Lucy has been our ‘daughter’ for the last four years. This weekend, Lucy turned 18. She’s legally an adult, now, and she no longer needs us to be her parents. In fact, I think she needs Lois to stop being her mom and go back to being her sister. So, after four mostly happy…” he gave Lois a wink”…years as a family, I am pleased to announce that the Lane/Olsen marriage has been very amicably dissolved.”
“Ain’t that quick, Olsen? I thought a divorce took six months at least?” yelled Ralph from the back corner.
“A divorce, yes. But not an annulment,” Jim answered.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” added Lois with a glare in Ralph’s direction.
Not to be deterred, Ralph persisted, “Anulment? I thought you could only get one of those if the marriage hasn’t been consummated. You mean to tell me you two never…” Even Ralph could read the danger that was now emanating from Lois Lane, and the question faded into shocked silence.
“Lois is my friend, and that’s all either of us is going to say about that,” Jim finished. “Except that we are both now free agents,” he added with a grin. Lois’s answering scowl said loud and clear that, unlike her former spouse, she was not in the market for a rebound fling.
As the background hum of the newsroom returned to its normal volume, Jim strode down the ramp and handed Clark his letter. “I don’t think you’ll be needing that after all,” he remarked.
Clark’s gaze was riveted on Lois as he answered his friend, “No, I guess I won’t.”
Lois’s answer was a warning. “Don’t fall for me, farmboy. I don’t have time for it.”
But Clark wasn’t the only one who saw the look in her eyes that belied her words. Lois headed for the elevators, but before she could call them with a confident, “Come one, you two, the Beckworth School is waiting,” Jim whispered in Clark’s ear,
“Famous last words.”
