Thank you so much, everyone, for reading! I'm not able to write often, so I'm glad that you like what I was able to eke out. 
Thanks again to Carol and Jenn for beta'ing this for me!!Shooting the Breezeor Carol and Jenn are awesomeI slam the door shut behind me and toss my bag onto the desk next to the ficus before stomping into the bedroom to change, my bad mood reveling in the thuds and thunks I'm making. I am so irritated, so incensed, so _pissed off_, that I can barely think straight. I'm glad that Lucy is off on her date with Jimmy, so she's not a witness to the carnage. I throw on some comfortable clothes before stomping back out to the living room. Just as I flop onto the couch, there's a knock at the door. Grumbling to myself, I open the door to see Clark standing there with a few bags.
"I just can't believe that they're getting away with this!" I gripe, still in ranting mode. I take one of the bags and stand back to let Clark in. "They were there this morning, and boom, they're gone! They must have some great manpower if they can disappear that quickly. Ooh, if I could just get something on them..." I trail off and glance back at Clark. "What?"
He shakes his head, grinning slightly. "Nothing. Just not what I was expecting."
"Expecting?" I glance down at the bag I'm holding, and the smell finally reaches my nose, reminding me that Clark wasn't here to discuss governmental disappearing acts. "Oh, right." My stomach lets out a loud grumble, and I grin sheepishly. "Let me get some plates, and we can eat."
The next few minutes are spent gathering eating implements and dishing out the food. Sharing the containers might be okay in the office, but plates are better at home, even though I do have to wash them. We settle in, and I take a bite of chicken, closing my eyes in pleasure. "This is good. From now on, you get the takeout. The places around here just don't cut it."
Clark frowns, squirming slightly in his seat. "Lois, about that. You know this is a secret, right? You can't turn it into a big expose."
I roll my eyes. "If I've learned anything the past three days, it's the types of high-level kooks out there, and what they can do. I'm not opposed to an official interview, but I'm not going to splash 'Clark Kent is Superman' all over the front page."
Clark visibly relaxes across from me. "Thank you. I've had it drilled into my head all my life that if someone found out, I'd be dissected like a frog. I might be invulnerable now, but that wasn't always the case."
I gesture at him with my chopsticks. "So, spill. Off the record, of course. I may not tell anyone, but that doesn't mean I don't want to know."
Clark thinks for a minute, then takes a deep breath. "Well, first of all, I'm adopted. The official story is that my birth mother was my adoptive mom's teenage cousin. But the truth is, my parents were driving past Shuster's field..." I listen in amazement as Clark tells me his life story, from being found in a spaceship to growing up and gaining strange powers.
"Your parents sound amazing," I say wistfully, thinking of my own painful childhood.
"The best. I think you'd like them, especially my mom."
"Well, I don't know about that. I don't do well with parents." I grimace, thinking of my own. "So you don't know where you're from?"
"Well, I didn't until today. I found my spaceship in the warehouse today. I found a metal ball inside that told me I'm from Krypton."
"Krypton? You mean you really are from another planet?"
"It looks that way. I'm glad I'm not a Russian science experiment, but I still don't know why I was sent here."
"To seek out new life and new civilizations," I quote. Clark shoots a look at me, which I'm not sure if it's amused or frustrated. I grin back. "Sorry, just popped into my head."
"No, it's okay." He shakes his head, and I decide it's amusement. "Who knows? Maybe that ball will tell me someday."
"Maybe. So, what all can you do? I've seen fly, and you're strong. What else?"
"Well, I can see through almost anything except for lead. Heat things with my eyes, cool things with my breath, hear things a long way off, I'm very fast, and I'm invulnerable," he lists off on his fingers.
"Wow." I sit for a minute, absorbing all of this information. Boy, when Clark said he wasn't like other guys, he wasn't kidding!
"So," Clark shifted slightly. "How did you figure it out?"
"Hmm?" I pull myself out of my musings to focus on Clark's face. "It was a bunch of small things, really. Your disappearing acts, our miraculous escape from EPRAD's warehouse." 'Your great abs both in and out of the spandex,' I think to myself. "It didn't click until we were waiting in the conference room the other day."
"Oh?"
"I was staring out the window, and looked to see a paper ball hovering over the trash can. Really, Clark, you need to be more careful!"
Clark blushes slightly. "Oops."
"Oops is right. Boredom is not an excuse." I grin at him.
"Yes, ma'am!" Clark sketches off a quick salute, making me giggle.
"I think you're safe, though. I only noticed because we've spent so much time together lately. But I'd be more careful in the office."
Clark nods, and we sit quietly for a few minutes, mulling over our discussion. Or at least, I am. For all I know, Clark might be on Krypton.
"So, what *are* you planning to do with this knowledge?" Clark's question brings me out of my reverie.
"Blackmail." I say with a wicked grin.
Clark gulps. "Blackmail?"
"Sure! Food from where ever I want whenever I want, occasional peeks behind locked doors. Ooh, we don't need microphones with your hearing! Yes, I'm seeing a beautiful relationship ahead of us. We might even get a Pulitzer out of it!"
"And if I don't?"
"Well... I haven't gotten that far yet. But I'll think of something suitably evil, like..." I trail off, thinking. Some things are out because of his invulnerability. "Stealing all of your pens, getting IT to lock you out of your computer. And other more diabolical things that I can't let you know about, or you'll try to thwart me."
Clark chuckles. "Thwart?"
"Yes, thwart, you evil fiend." I poke him, grinning.
"How about I appease you with a real interview instead?"
I eye him speculatively. "You don't want the scoop yourself?"
He shakes his head. "After this week, I don't want to seem too close to Superman."
"True. I don't blame you. And you did promise it to me."
"Very true. And yes, I think the interview will appease me. For now, anyway." Of course, the Chinese did that, but I'm not going to tell him so! I grab my notebook and pen off the desk, then settle back into my seat, not letting this chance pass by. "So, Superman, if I may call you that, tell me about yourself."
We go back and forth between questions, trying to decide what will be available to the public and what should be kept private. By the end of the night, I've decided we really do work well together. Maybe I wasn't too far off when I said that this was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
I just wonder if I can get him to take me with him next time I want authentic foreign food.
