He’d done it again. Clark couldn’t believe that he’d let himself be talked into a second interview with Lois Lane. Not that he wasn’t eager to see her, but it was dangerous. There was something about that woman that made his brain lose all higher function. Well, he consoled himself as he flew toward Carter Avenue, at least this time it wasn’t technically an interview. He hadn’t actually agreed to answer any questions. No, this time it was Lois Lane who had something she wanted to tell him. And she thought she had something that belonged to Superman. What could possibly make her believe that? It was curiosity, he told himself, and courtesy, not his unhealthy fascination with Lois Lane, which brought him sailing through her open window against his better judgment.
The scene which welcomed him in the moments before Lois noticed his approach caused his newly minted hero façade to slip into a stifled smile. Lois was wearing the same business suit she’d had on that afternoon, and her hair was bobbing up and down in an adorable little rhythm in time to her pounding feet as she stomped back and forth in front of her kitchen island, her heavy steps punctuating a rhythmic chant of “Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!”
He nearly had to bite his lip to keep from grinning as she noticed his entrance and turned an endearing shade of pink. Boy, was he in deep trouble.
In deep trouble, and now caught staring wide-eyed at Lois Lane. This was not the impression he was going for when he invented Superman. He needed to say something. Something professional and….heroish. “I’m sorry. You said eight. I didn’t know I’d be interrupting you mid-rant.”
Oh, yeah, real smooth.
Lois turned an even deeper shade of red and busied herself by closing the laptop which stood open on her kitchen island. Was the computer the target of her frustration?
“No, Superman, I’m the one who should be sorry. I did say eight, and I lost track of the time.” She smoothed her skirt, and then her hair, and looked around her apartment, obviously searching for a change of subject. Finally, her restless gaze landed on her living room furniture. She gestured in that direction. “Please, won’t you sit down?”
Clark strode toward a white loveseat. He was momentarily thrown off-balance by the sudden realization that his hero suit was not designed for dignified sitting. After a brief pause, he settled for draping the cape under him and spreading the corners over his lap like a stadium blanket. He desperately hoped that he didn’t look nearly as stupid as he felt.
“Can I get you some coffee? I’ve just made a fresh pot.” At Clark’s startled look, Lois hurried to add, “If you drink coffee, that is. Do they even have coffee…wherever you come from? Probably not. I mean, why would they? And they say it’s an acquired taste. Maybe you wouldn’t even like it. It’s really good once you get used to it, though. Some of us can’t really function without it. And there’s milk and sugar to make it less bitter, if you like that…” My goodness, she was a force of nature! Clark felt he should say something before she passed out from lack of oxygen.
“Coffee would be fine. Thank you.”
“Oh.” Lois blinked. “Of course.” Lois reached two mugs down from a cupboard and opened her refrigerator. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Yes, please, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
A brief minute later Lois brought the two mugs through to the living room and seated herself, after another awkward pause, in the opposite corner of the same love seat. She took a moment to steady her nerves and faced her guest with her best professional manner.
“Thank you for coming, Superman. I know that you’re a busy man, and I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.” Ah, yes, this was finally familiar territory for Clark. Meet the Press he could do in his sleep—as Clark Kent, that is. As Superman, though, it was another story. This required caution and a clear head.
“I must admit that I don’t usually visit members of the press in their homes, Ms. Lane. But you indicated that this conversation might best be kept confidential, so I was willing to make an exception . I must warn you, however, that I am not prepared to give an interview at this time.”
“No, no, Superman,” Lois hastened to reassure him, “I wasn’t requesting an interview. Not that I wouldn’t be thrilled to have one. Me and every other reporter in the world.” She rolled her eyes and flashed him a self-deprecating smile. “No, I asked you here tonight because of what happened to me today.”
A confused half-frown creased Clark’s brow. “You want some quotes for your article about today’s rescue?” Which reminded him, “By the way, why *were* you falling from 15,000 feet up? I assume you don’t do that every day?”
“No.” Lois couldn’t help but smile. “Not if I can help it.”
Clark was trying very hard to keep a straight face with this woman, but she wasn’t making it easy. He loved her wry sense of humor, and her smile just begged to be answered with one of his own. With Herculean effort, he controlled himself.
“And I didn’t ask you here for quotes, either,” she continued. “Although if you have a minute or two before you leave, I’m sure I could use some. It’s the reason for that fall that I want to talk to you about. Actually, ‘fall’ is the wrong word. I was pushed.”
“What?!” Clark was sure his voice had just climbed up an octave, but he didn’t care . “Why? By whom? The same people who fired that missile?” What kind of people would do such a thing?
“Yeah, a nutcase named Jason Trask. Unfortunately for us, he’s a dangerous nutcase with access to military jets and who knows what else. The government doesn’t want to claim him, but he seems to consider himself a one-man task force.”
“For what task?” Clark asked.
Lois was turning red again. She ran a nervous hand through her hair, causing it to fall slowly back into place in a quite bewitching manner. “This is very embarrassing, Superman. I’d hate for you to think that this lunatic in any way represents the way the rest of us feel about you. I hope you know how much everyone appreciates everything you’ve done for us.”
‘Not everyone,’ Clark thought to himself. Lex Luthor certainly didn’t appreciate Superman’s efforts, but he refrained from saying so.
“Ms. Lane,” Clark gently prodded, “you haven’t really answered my question. What task is Mr. Trask engaged in that involves throwing reporters out of jet planes and firing missiles inside the city limits?”
“Well, it seems that Trask—he’s a Colonel, by the way—used to be part of Project Blue Book…”
“The government program to track down UFOs in the fifties?” If Lois wondered how Superman knew about Project Blue Book, she didn’t let it show .
“Yes. It disbanded in 1969, but it seems Trask never got the memo. He’s decided that you’re some kind of front runner for an alien invasion.”
Clark jumped to his feet, his hands in tights fists at his sides. “So he threw you out of a jet plane in order to draw me out? He used you as bait?!”
So much for controlling his expressions. Clark knew his impassive hero persona was in tatters by now, but he couldn’t keep the shock and anger out of his face, or his voice. How *dare* he? When Clark got his hands on that lunatic, he’d…
Lois stood and approached him cautiously . “He tried to kill you, Superman. Just like the madman who set that bomb off in the Carlin Building last week.” Her voice was gentle, full of sympathy and concern. She reached out and laid a tentative hand on his arm. “I can only imagine how you must feel.” At his questioning glance she explained, “You come here to help, and people try to kill you. It’s awful.”
Clark shook his head, dismissing the need for her concern. “That’s kind of you, Ms. Lane, but I’m pretty hard to kill. I’m more worried about you. You came within inches of losing an eye in that bombing, and within seconds of losing your life today. If I hadn’t been within hearing range…” It didn’t bear thinking about. Instead, he shot her a determined look. “I’m going to find that man and stop him. That’s a promise, Lois.”
Lois meant to say, “That’s funny. I was about to tell you the same thing.” Instead, what came out was, “You noticed me at the bombing?”
By sheer act of will, Clark refrained from blurting out, “I always notice you.” In the knick of time he changed it to, “I was concerned about civilians getting hurt. Someone was testing me, but he put a lot of other people in danger in the process .”
“Testing you?”
“Yes. The double suicide attempts to test my speed, the bomb to test my vulnerability…”
“Do you know who it was?”
“I have my suspicions. Nothing I can prove yet.”
“Yet? So you’re investigating someone?”
This was getting dangerously close to Clark Kent territory. “In a way,” he hedged. “I really can’t say anything more.”
“Will you tell me when you’re getting close? Or will you let me help? I am a trained investigator. It’s what I do. If someone’s trying to harm you, I’d gladly help bring them down.”
“That’s very kind of you, Ms. Lane. As I said, though, I really don’t have anything I can give you.”
“You’ll think about it, won’t you? Let me know if you change your mind? My window’s always open for you,” she declared with hopeful earnestness .
Whoa. Lois was sounding a little too determined for Clark’s comfort. She was starting to sound dangerously like the kind of fan who swarmed over Clark Kent at every public function and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. This was the last thing he needed—an ace reporter with a crush on Superman. It didn’t help that she was also the one person who could make him lose all composure by her mere presence. As much as he’d like to spend more time with Lois, he couldn’t afford to encourage her fascination with his alter ego. It was time to make a graceful exit while he still could.
“Ms. Lane, thank you for the information on Colonel Trask. I appreciate the warning. If you’ll excuse me, I really should be going.” Clark turned and strode as majestically as he could to the afore-mentioned window.
“Wait!” He stopped just short of the sill and turned to face her reluctantly. She was blushing again. She reached one hand toward him in silent entreaty, and her words came out in a rush, as if she were afraid that he would fly away before she could finish. “First, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I promise not to drool over you like some moony-eyed cheerleader. I just meant that…Well, it seems to me like a man in your position…you know, with so many rescues and people trying to test you and kill you and all…Well, I just thought that maybe you could use a friend. So if you ever need one, I’m here. That’s all.” Clark wasn’t sure that *was* all, but it was a good cover for her earlier comment, so he let it go.
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” Not that he’d be flying back here any time soon. Superman was supposed to be the distant, mysterious hero. He didn’t have friends. He turned again toward the window.
“Oh!” At her sudden exclamation, he turned back toward her once more. “I can’t believe I almost forgot. I have something of yours.”
“Something of mine? What makes you think so?” Clark couldn’t imagine what Lois could have mistaken for Superman’s property. He knew that, aside from the suit he was currently wearing, Superman owned nothing.
Lois gestured toward her sofa. “Please, have a seat. Your coffee’s getting cold.” She made a vague wave in the general direction of her bedroom. “I’ve got it hidden in my closet, but I’ll be right back with it.” With that, Lois disappeared through the bedroom door, leaving Clark little choice but to sit back down and wait.
“I found this earlier today . It was in a secret government warehouse, along with one of your ships. I thought you might want it back, so I took it for you.”
The object which she held out to him was a globe, about the size of a softball . Clark took it from her outstretched hand. He was opening his mouth to explain that it didn’t belong to him when he was stopped by a voice which spoke not to his ears, but directly to his mind.
“Krypton,” he repeated after the voice. As he spoke, the globe in his hands morphed from the familiar blue and green of Earth to a strange pattern of red and white that he somehow knew portrayed his long-forgotten home planet.
“I beg your pardon?” Lois’s voice reached him through the fog of overwhelming revelation. He came back to his senses and looked up at her as she dropped gracefully back into her seat, a mere arm’s length away from Clark.
“Krypton,” he repeated. “This is a map of my home planet.” She didn’t need to know that he’d just now realized that himself.
“And it showed the Earth before you touched it. So it’s some kind of navigational device for your supply ship?”
“My supply ship? Is that what you think you saw in the warehouse? How did you know it was mine?”
“It had your…” she pointed vaguely at his chest.
“Crest,” he supplied.
“Yes, your crest, on the front of the ship. And it was too small to fit a person, so I’m assuming it was bringing you provisions from…Krypton?”
Clark didn’t answer right away. He was too busy trying to assimilate the implications of what he’d just learned. He had a ship. One with his symbol on it. The one his mother copied from his baby blanket. That—along with the globe that somehow *told* him its name—meant that he wasn’t a Russian experiment after all. He had always known it was possible, but to have it confirmed…He was an alien. He wasn’t even human! And his ship was out there somewhere in the hands of a rogue government agency.
There was only one thing to be done about that. Instead of answering Lois’s question, he asked one of his own. “This warehouse, could you tell me where it is? I’d really like to get my ship back, especially if this Colonel Trask is the one keeping it.”
“That’s the trouble, Superman. The reason I was…ranting, I believe you called it…” He gave her an apologetic smile. “…when you came in was because it’s gone. I went back to the warehouse earlier this evening with Perry and the police, but it was empty. I know what I saw, but it’s gone. I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
The two of them sat in stillness for at least a minute. Clark was stunned by the sheer weight of his new knowledge . He’d been right; he really didn’t fit in, and now he knew why. He’d never belonged here in the first place. He wasn’t even from this planet. And somewhere out there was a government agent who was determined to ensure that the alien threat was eliminated. Every childhood fear of some faceless “Them” who would come and take him away to a laboratory was rearing its ugly head.
For her part, Lois was accosted by the overwhelming realization that, as powerful as he was, this man needed her help in a way that no one ever had before. He didn’t just need any friend. He needed her. She didn’t understand how other people could fail to appreciate how extraordinary and wonderful Superman was. What she did understand was that, no matter what it might cost her, she would stand by him. He needed an ally, and she was going to be it.
As Clark emerged from his fugue, he focused once more on Lois. She was staring at him, but not in the way he had feared. She wasn’t disgusted by his alienness. Nor was she infatuated in the way that she had first seemed to be that day he flew her back to the Planet from EPRAD. No, the look she was giving him now reminded him of Lana, or of his mom . She was looking through the costume to the man beneath it. Suddenly he wasn’t in such a rush to leave after all.
“Thank you,” he told her sincerely. At her questioning look, he raised the globe toward her with a little nod. “You didn’t have to give this back to me. I’m sure there are a lot of people who would love to get their hands on this.”
“I’m sure there are, but they wouldn’t get it from me.” Was there a hint of offense in her tone?
“I know that, Lois . I didn’t mean to imply that you would ever do such a thing. But not everyone shares your sense of ethics. I’m very lucky that this fell into your hands and not someone else’s. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’ve been a true friend to me tonight. And true friends are hard to find. So thank you.”
She smiled warmly in response and gave his knee a little nudge with hers. “See? I told you that already—if you need a friend, I’m always around. You didn’t think I really meant it.”
He returned her smile with one of his own. “It wasn’t that I didn’t believe you wanted to be my friend,” he explained. “I just I didn’t think someone like me could have friends.” He paused for a moment, then added in a thoughtful tone, “You’ve changed my mind tonight.”
Before the moment could grow uncomfortably intense, Clark stood to take his leave. “I should be going, Lois . Thank you again. For everything.”
“You’re welcome.” She stood to walk him to the window. “Do you think you could give me a quote or two before you go? For the ‘falling from a jet plane’ story?”
“Sure.” Clark hesitated only a moment before adding, “In fact, though it’s getting a bit late for it tonight, I think I’d like to see you again soon. Maybe Thursday morning at your office? How’d you like to have the first official interview with Superman?”
