This is the tale of Nightfall in the Alternate Universe depicted in “All the Daytime and the Nighttime.” Thanks to Dan Levine and Bryce Zabel, and of course, the pilot for parts of this.
The year of this story is 2003.
Previously in Part 5:
It was 11 p.m. when Clark pulled his car back into his garage. He wanted to do a very visible patrol of Metropolis tomorrow and needed a clean suit and a new cape. It was only 10 p.m. in Kansas, but farmers went to be early because they were up early. Clark grabbed his dirty suit and torn cape and stuffed them in a plastic bag to keep from getting muddy again and took off quickly from his convenient back patio with the obscured view.
Landing at the Farm, he pulled the key from the fake flowerpot and walked in.
After quickly fixing the coffee pot and plugging it in, he walked into the dinning room and found a note from Rita.
Hey brother:
I see you made the evening news with bells and whistles. Here is a new Suit.
Leave the dirty one and I’ll mend and wash it and leave it for you. Stop by and give us the details when we are all awake. Decided on a name yet?
Love
Rita
Hey sister:
You read my mind! Just what I needed. It was busier than I wanted, but it is a start. The Suit did well, the cape not so well. Maybe tougher fabric? Anyway, it all worked. Give you details later. Use the Farm anytime you want.
Hugs
Clark
*+*+*+*+*+*+
Part 6. A Man Who Flies Rising at 4 a.m., as was his habit at the Farm, and feeling rested after what was, for him, a good night’s sleep, he decided to practice the costume change. How could he quickly and effectively go from Clark to Heroman and back again? He couldn’t quite call himself Superman yet. It sounded cartoonish, like Batman. Maybe, like everything else in his new life, he would get used to it.
First, he put on the Suit and then put jeans and a sweatshirt over it. Well, that seemed O.K. He wasn’t as uncomfortable as he thought he might be with all that clothing on and the sweatshirt hid the cape pretty well. He guessed he was going to be wearing business suits that had a coat or else a sweatshirt all the time.
Trying a quick change at superspeed, he managed to reveal the Suit cleanly and even had his boots on, but he regarded his torn sweatshirt and jeans with dismay. There had to be a better way.
Normally a very calm fellow, he felt real frustration this time. It was just too many changes in his orderly life all at once. He wanted to help the Earth, because it was his home too, but now he would like to spend his time on other pursuits, namely being with one Lois Lane.
In a bit of a snit, he flew down the stairs in full regalia, to make some coffee. Food and liquids didn’t really affect him since he got his principle energy from the sun, but he drew comfort from the ritual of making coffee and drinking it. After filling the pot with water and coffee, he turned on the lights just to see the colors of the house better. It still looked pretty good, he thought. He noticed Rita’s CD player still by her sewing machine where she had left it and decided a little music would lighten his mood.
The song on continuous play, “Holding Out for a Hero” came on and the pot started perking. He was rather intrigued by the juxtaposition of the two sounds and started swirling his cape rather in the mode of evil villains of the old cinema and dancing about. He had learned ballroom dancing from a princess from Nigeria who was a fellow student his overseas summer in Istanbul. She had also taught him etiquette and how to mingle with the upper class.
Somewhere around the words “And he's gotta be fast, And he's gotta be fresh from the fight, I need a hero, I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light”, he executed a very fast spin in place. When he stopped, he was buck naked.
Clark stared down at himself in surprise and then looked around for his Suit. “Good thing I have no neighbors for miles,” he thought, noting the lack of curtains on the windows and bright lights on in the living room. “Oh, Rita’s gonna kill me if I’ve lost the Suit. Where did it go?”
His scientific training certainly didn’t cover this. “Maybe if I spin fast the other way, it will come back.” So he spun and stopped, still without clothes. The only thing to do was spin the same way. “Think Suit, think Suit.” He spun and stopped and he was in the Suit!
“Now if I can only do that with two outfits,” he said out loud. He zoomed back up to his bedroom and got an old pair of pajamas he didn’t really wear or like and came back down to the living room, feeling it would give him more room to maneuver.
The pot was done perking, but the music still played. He held the pajamas and spun and tried to get his mind synchronized with the spin so he could see what he was doing. Bingo! He stopped, dressed in the pajamas. He spun again, and he was back in the Suit. Walking over to the player, he turned off the music. It would be extremely silly and embarrassing to play music while he changed.
He did it once more without music and with pajamas and then decided to go for his black turtleneck, jeans and black jacket. “I’m going to be really unhappy if this doesn’t work because I really like this outfit.”
Clark heaved a sigh of relief when it did work. He rewarded himself with a cup of coffee, trying to ponder where the Suit went. As a man of science, he knew it shouldn’t be possible, but on the other hand, he shouldn’t be able to fly and lift cars either.
Now he was ready to go back to Metropolis and do his first official Patrol of the streets.
*+*+*+*+*+*+
Clark was at his desk in the FBI office shortly after he finished his patrol. His first patrol had gone quite well, he thought. There was a robbery at Johnson’s Jewelry in the uptown section of Metropolis. He had heard the local precinct respond to the silent alarm and beaten them there, catching the masked crooks with the goods and holding them for the police. After that, there had been the odd vehicle skidding on the still slick roads and that was it. He whisked by the garage with the black SUV in it and saw that it was still parked there.
Clark’s Special Agent in Charge, Bob Bernadacki, came in and handed him a multipage list of names. “This is the list of passengers from LexAir 120 that brought in that, unh, unusual cargo last night. Were you at the airport? Did you see the Man Who Flies?”
Clark put the list on his desk, then swiveled and leaned back, recalling what he had told Admiral Lane. “Yeah, I had just come back from Thanksgiving in Kansas. I saw the media circus too.”
Clark stared over at the small plaque on a stand on his desk, ‘Those that speak do not know; those who know do not speak,’ he read silently to himself. It was something he had picked up during his time in Istanbul.
Bob noticed his gaze and read the plaque. “The Wisdom of the Desert, the fourth century Verba Seniorum? I didn’t know you were into philosophy, Clark.”
Shrugging, Clark said, “Such reminders are useful in decoding human behavior.” He scanned rapidly down the list of passengers. “General Jason Trask? Why do I know that name?”
“Could it be because he’s in charge of NORAD in Cheyenne Mountain? The flight originated in Denver.”
Bob half sat on a corner of Clark’s desk and leaned over to say quietly. “So, did you see The Man that Flies? What did you think? Professionally, that is. Does he pose a threat to us?”
Appearing thoughtful, Clark said slowly, as if evaluating the situation. “I guess it would be trite to say he gave the ‘I come in peace speech’, but you heard it on LNN, I’m sure. He’s here to help he says. If he keeps helping, I’d say he’s good for his word.”
Bob, good agent that he was, looked doubtful. “Yeah, but where did he come from? Is he alone? Where has he been before? After all, he’s a full-grown adult. He had to come from somewhere. But where?”
Shrugging, Clark answered, “Your guess is as good as mine.” That was actually the truth, because Clark had no idea how he could do what he could do. He decided there needed to be a way to get more information out to the public to answer some of these questions.
*+*+*+*+*+*+
Perry White was on a furious tear that morning. He walked into the conference room for the morning meeting loaded for bear.
The assembled reporters were strung around the massive table. Perry stopped at the front of the table and slammed a newspaper down. Horror of horrors, it was the Metropolis Star with a 48 point headline “Flying Man Saves Plane.”
Below the headline was a nice picture of Clark in the Suit in front of the plane, with an article by William Fulton. Fulton was their sports reporter and must have been at the airport and seized the opportunity to get a hot story.
Perry, pointing to the byline, bellowed, “Fulton’s their sports reporter, for Elvis’ sake! And
he got a story!”
Below the fold was the follow-up story with a smaller headline “Flying Man Cleans Up Freeway Wreck,” with another story written by Susie Bernard. Perry’s finger stabbed her byline, “And she’s their society reporter. Where were we?”
The picture with Susie’s article was of a wet and muddy Clark lifting a mini-van up over his head to take it to a hospital. Small children’s frightened faces peered through the side windows. Susie must have been caught in the pile-up and had a camera handy.
Perry eyeball each reporter sitting at the table. “We got
scooped, people! By the
Metropolis Star! That yellow piece of trash journalism beat us to this story! Where was the night desk? Where was everyone last night!”
Timidly, Jimmy raised his hand. “Chief, Lois was in that wreck on the I-95 last night going to the airport to get the story. She called in early this morning from Metropolis General Hospital. She’s going to get some more tests for a concussion and then after they release her, her mother is taking her to the Lane’s home. She didn’t say when she would be in.”
Eduardo Friaz pushed a VCR tape toward Perry, “I got a recording at home last night. We can get good pictures off that.”
“But we’re behind the curve and that’s second source! We need our
own pictures and a well written article.” Perry protested. He thumped the offending newspaper again. “A man who flies... I still don't believe it!”
“But Chief, it's all over the TV!” Jimmy protested.
“Don't believe everything you see on TV, Jimmy! I'll tell you one thing though,
whoever pulled off a hoax like this...”
Just then the elevator dinged and Clark walked into the bullpen. Perry turned, saw him and bellowed, “Kent, over here.”
“Sorry I’m late, Chief.”
Perry of course knew about his other job and assumed he had been there. Hope sprang up. Perhaps he knew something from that source. He pushed the paper over to Clark. “Do you know anything about this?”
Cat Grant had sat silently during Perry’s tirade, weathering it by closely examining her fingernails. Clark stood right behind her. Cat now stared intently at the picture in front of the airplane. “Wow, good looking guy. Too bad he’s an alien. I sure wouldn’t mind interviewing
him” She did a little samba move while still seated in her chair.
Clark felt himself blush to his ear tips.
Oblivious, Cat continued, “I wonder what the “S” stands for?”
Put off by Cat’s salacious tone, Clark couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Well, when Lois writes the article on him, maybe he will say.”
Cat’s jaw dropped and Perry pounced. “Lois has an interview scheduled with him? I mean we just heard she got hurt in the pile-up.”
‘She does now,’ Clark vowed silently. “I talked to her last night,” implying that was when the interview got scheduled.
Perry continued, “Jimmy just said Lois called here earlier and her mother is taking her home once the tests are done.” Slapping the evil rival paper in satisfaction, a mollified Perry said to the group, “What the hell is this, the Betty Crocker bake off! Get back to work! We've got a newspaper to run!”
*+*+*+*+*+*+
Deep in the bowels of LexTower, there was a large conference room with more security gadgets protecting it than the NIA had around theirs. Lex Luthor was sitting shrouded in darkness on a raised dais. Seated in a semicircle facing him were his co-conspirators: Albert, Jules, and Monique. Albert was a tall, skinny Englishman with a gold-knobbed cane; Jules was young, black and very hip in sharkskin suit, African pillbox hat and shades. And Monique was the epitome of the new term for a hot lady in her forties, in other words, a cougar. Ceiling-mounted spotlights cast three pools of light on to the trio individually.
Luthor could see them very well, and they could see the lighted wall displays very well, but Luthor was in shadow, a mysterious figure with a booming voice. The wall displays were playing silent pictures of The Man Who Flies at the airport, during the cleanup of the I-95 crash, holding the perps in the jewelry store robbery for the police, rescuing a kitten from a tree for a young girl in the early morning light, and saving commuters on a ferry in the East River. Anything he had done since landing LexAir120 was looping silently on the screens on the walls of the room.
Luthor typed something onto a keyboard and the phrase "Know Thy Enemy" appeared on the screen behind him.
Luthor asked bitingly, “What do we know about The Man Who Flies?”
The trio exchanged glances. No one wanted to jump in first.
Finally, Jules took a stab. “Man, he can really jump ... for a white guy.”
“Yes, but how far? How high? Is he, for example, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound?”
Not really knowing what Luthor was after and fearing to displease him, Jules just shrugged silently.
Albert ventured in his clipped accent, “He's immensely powerful since he brought in an airplane.”
Luthor altered his tone and became almost professorial as he warmed to his topic. “Ah, yes, but how powerful? More powerful than an avalanche? More powerful than a...locomotive?”
Albert shrugged, of course not knowing an appropriate answer and not really caring. He was here for the money promised by Luthor.
Monique cut in dismissively. “He's still a man. All men are weak.”
Luthor leaned forward and observed closely as she crossed her long, elegant legs, seemingly bored. Later, perhaps, he mused to himself. He continued to lecture his employees, “Obviously, we know very little about the limits of capabilities of this person or, dare I say, creature. Therefore, I have designed a series of tests for this, this
alien. I'll need your help.”
Monique shook her head, clearly annoyed and not afraid of Luthor.
Luthor replied with forced patience. Maybe she wasn’t worth his time after all. “Yes, Monique?”
“Let me hire a couple of shooters, and I'll turn the guy into a large wet spot. Tests won't be necessary,” she said dismissively, as if it were the only solution reasonable. Albert and Jules shifted their positions away from her, clearly indicating they didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire.
Deadly quiet, Lex queried, “Monique, my dear, have you ever read Sun Tzu's 'The Art Of War'?”
“I'm waiting for the Reader's Digest version,” she replied with cool disdain.
“Sun Tzu was a general of ancient, Imperial China. He teaches us, and I'm paraphrasing of course, that 'knowledge precedes victory; confusion precedes defeat.'”
“Really? Well, an Uzi precedes a bloody mess. Even in China.”
Holding his temper, Luthor replied authoritatively, “Let's do it my way. In fact, I've a very special role planned for you during the testing.”
Antsy for action and not interested in philosophical discussions, Jules asked,
“When do we start?”
“Tomorrow morning, bright and early.”
Jules and Monique moaned softly. They weren’t early morning people. Albert was indifferent to when as long as he got paid.
*+*+*+*+*+*+
“How do you feel, Lois?” Ellen asked in a concerned voice.
“I’m fine now, Mom. I just have this little band aid on my head and my sprained arm is rewrapped and in a sling. I’m great, except for the fact it’s my right arm and I’m right handed. It makes it a little hard to type on my computer and write my stories.”
“What story is so important you have to rush back to work?”
“Superman. It’s the story of the century – no the millennium.”
Ellen gave her a confused look.
“All right, The Man Who Flies. I’ve named him Superman.”
“
You have named him? Doesn’t he have a name?”
“Not that he has told anyone, he doesn’t.”
Lois looked out the front window. “Oh, here’s Clark. He’s going to take me back to the Planet. Dad arranged for my Jeep to get towed to a shop. Heaven knows when it will be ready.”
“Well, I hope he comes to the door, like a proper young man.” Ellen was strict on polite manners. On the word, the front doorbell rang.
Smiling at her mother, Lois said, “See, he has manners.” She opened the door with her left hand. “Hi, Clark. Come on in and meet my mother.”
Ellen watched as this tall and impressively handsome man entered her home. As a military wife, she had been privileged to see many young fit and handsome men throughout her life, but this fellow was a standout. She almost felt a physical force when he smiled at her. Well, Lois sure had good taste.
Lois continued with introductions. “Mom, this is Clark Kent, my partner at the Daily Planet. Clark, this is my mother, Ellen Lane.”
At the word “partner”, Clark’s smile widened even further and he extended his hand. “Very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Lane.”
Ellen took his hand. His grip was very gentle. “Please to meet you, Clark. Thanks for taking my daughter…home?…back to work?” Ellen turned to Lois questioningly.
“Back to work,” Lois said decisively.
Raising an eyebrow, Clark turned to Lois questioningly and at her expression decided not to challenge that assertion. “We should go.” They said their farewells, and Clark escorted her out of the house with a hand on her lower back and a hold on her left arm to help her negotiate the stairs.
Clark opened the passenger door of his car for Lois, then went around to the driver’s side and slid in. He reached across her front to grab the seat belt to fasten it for her. As he pulled it around her he stared at her lips and then her eyes.
“My Mom’s watching,” she whispered.
He looked out the passenger car window and saw Mrs. Lane watching them leave, so he strapped in Lois with efficient movements and then strapped himself in and started the car. Lois gave a cheery wave with her left hand as they pulled away.
“So,” Clark said as they were out on the road. “Where do you want to go?”
Lois reached across the middle console and rested her hand on his thigh.
His voice sounded rough as he choked out, “Your apartment?” He couldn’t keep a hopeful sound out of the question.
“No. I’m really O.K., but I don’t know how I’m going to type. I guess I’ll use my recorder and decide later.”
“I’ll type it for you if you want.”
“Oh, that’s sweet of you, Clark.”
“Unless you want me to pull into the next driveway and kiss you, you’d better remove that hand of yours.”
“That sounds really good, Clark.” She left her hand where it was and began to kneed his thigh with her fingers.
Clark saw a Costmart coming up and turned rapidly into the large parking lot and went to the parking space the furthest from the door and in the back of the lot.
Clark parked the car rather abruptly and quickly unfastened his seat belt and then turned to Lois and unfastened her belt. “This is going to be difficult with the console in the middle.”
“I don’t care. I’m not made of glass. Just watch the arm is all. The shoulder is fine.”
Clark leaned over to her and gently grasped her around the shoulders and pulled her gently to him. He looked her in the eyes and then down to her mouth, then closed his eyes and closed the distance to her and kissed her gently at first and then with increasing intensity.
Lois responded eagerly, holding his right shoulder with her left hand then moving up to clasp his head and draw him tighter to her. They kissed deeply until they both began to pant. Finally Clark eased back, broke free and rested his forehead against hers. “That feels so incredibly good, Lois. I was really worried for you. Even though I saw you last night, I wanted to know you were all right today. God, what you do to me!”
“Same here, farmboy,” she murmured past her kiss reddened lips.
Clark started kissing down the side of her face, saying “Perry’s on a rampage.” She started to giggle. He pulled back and looked at her. “Hey, this is a business meeting, right, partner?”
“All funny business, you mean. O.K., partner. I’ll bite. Why is Perry on a rampage?”
“The Metropolis Star got the story of the Man Who Flies first. That’s what they are calling him now, ‘The Man Who Flies.’”
“Well, that’s an awkward name. I like Superman a lot better.”
“So do I. But maybe he won’t. Perry’s fuming because we don’t have any first hand coverage, an interview or pictures.”
“What do you suggest I do to get his attention? Hang from a flag pole on a building and yell ‘Help, Superman?’”
“Not with that arm, you won’t. Hang from a flag pole, that is. But think of this, maybe he
wants to get the word out that he’s a good guy and here to help. Logically, wouldn’t he pick the Daily Planet to give an interview to?”
“Oh, I like the way you think, buster. Yes, logically he would. But is he logical? Does he know enough about our society to make such a decision?”
Clark shrugged, “He knew enough about an airplane to get it safely on the ground. And he knew enough about human beings to go help at the pile-up and take people, in their cars, to hospitals.” Clark pulled back fully and said decisively, “I’ll escort you up to your office and then I have to go to my real job.”
Lois thought he meant the FBI and nodded. “All right. Let’s do this. I’ll see what information the Planet reporters have gathered and go from there.”
Clark refastened her seatbelt, then his and started the car. Lois put her hand on his arm, “Will I see you tonight?”
Clark put his hand on top of hers and squeezed gently. “I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee it right now.”
Lois nodded in understanding and they drove to the Planet, where Clark parked in the underground parking and saw her up to the bullpen. The staff immediately surrounded her when they noticed her arrival. They stormed her with questions. Perry stood and listened to her story and Clark quietly left by the elevator. Nobody noticed that the elevator went up.
*+*+*+*+*+*+
Clark walked out on the roof and looked around at Metropolis. His life was about to change in a large way and he needed a moment to think. He hoped he could pull this off and no one that he knew as Clark would recognize him. He didn’t think so, but he didn’t know so. And he knew he needed to slow down romancing Lois, but she was like an intoxicating drug to him. At least, that was what he thought intoxication was like since alcohol didn’t affect him.
If he was going to carry off this job of saving the Earth from Nightfall, he needed to concentrate on that for the time being. If all went well, he had the possibility of a long term relationship with Lois and that was what he wanted. His other problem with creating a whole new identity and interacting with Lois was the closer he got to her, the less he could control himself. It wasn’t so hard with Clark the pretend journalist and Clark the Special Agent, but throwing in Superman who was not supposed to know her at all tipped the scales into challenging territory.
Clark spun into the suit, checking quickly that he had done it right. He was readying himself to go face the bullpen and give Lois her interview when he looked out over the city and saw a crane lifting a giant heavy billboard in place. ‘They really should have two cranes for that job,’ he thought to himself. Working heavy equipment on a farm had given him a good feel for a common sense approach to moving large things long before his special abilities appeared.
Suddenly Clark heard the lone crane motor sputter and stop, then restart with a grinding sound. On the thought, he landed on the building opposite the billboard and saw one of the two cables snap. The operator immediately shut the motor down.
Peripherally, Clark noted that the billboard showed a family at the breakfast table with mom and dad reading the paper. The text said, “Wake Up To The Daily Planet.” Below that was the famous logo.
The crowd below froze at seeing the first cable pop. They were staring at the workmen gathered to consult on how to fix the problem. The workmen were pointing and gesturing. Suddenly, with a twang of metal fibers fraying, the remaining cable began to unravel and the workmen scattered, abandoning the crane. The crowd gasped as one and suddenly moved back further. The billboard cast a threatening shadow on the pavement below.
Clark saw a grandmother leading her two granddaughters, holding one by each hand, emerge from a storefront inside the roped off area and onto the sidewalk, into the shadow.
The crowd reacted with frantic shouts of “Look out! Above you! Get out of there! and Hurry!”
The woman looked up and saw the billboard threatening to fall and she tugged frantically at the granddaughters to get them out of the way. One of girls dropped her stuffed bear. The child wanted to go back for it, but her Grandmother couldn't let her. The girl began to cry, but Clark observed that the threesome reached the border and the safety of the crowd.
Suddenly the child broke free of the woman’s hand and ran for the bear, directly under the billboard. The cable broke three more of the wrapped strands with a loud metallic twang and was now only a single strand away from crashing to the ground.
People in the crowd held the grandmother back from running after her granddaughter as she cried out “Susie!”
Susie recovered her bear in the shadow of the billboard, but rather than running back quickly to Grandma, she paused to smooth its fur. But why was everyone yelling at her? She looked up, and her eyes grew wide.
The cable finally broke and the billboard fell. But Clark is already in the air.
People in the crowd covered their eyes and the Grandmother screamed.
Susie continued to stare upward, frozen by fear, as the shadow spread and rushed toward her. A red and blue streak came toward the crowd and materialized into the Man Who Flies. A unified gasp went up from the crowd.
Clark caught the billboard one handed, safely above Susie. He smiled at her and saw the flash of a camera as someone snapped a picture. Then he turned and grasped the billboard with both hands underneath it and propped it against the adjacent wall. He turned back to Susie and she smiled shyly and held out her bear to him. He accepted it with a smile and another picture was taken.
Susie’s Grandmother rushed over to the little group with Susie’s sister and breathlessly said, “I can’t thank you enough, young man. I was sure Susie would die. What is your name and where do you work?”
Clark thought that clearly this woman was out of touch with current events. He was formulating an answer, when a clear voice called out, “
Superman. His name is Superman.”
Surprised, he turned and saw Lois and Jimmy standing right beside the dumbfounded billboard crew. Jimmy had his camera and probably had taken at least one of the flash pictures. Clark allowed himself a small, neutral smile at Lois, since he wasn’t supposed to know her, and replied, turning back to the Grandmother. “Yes, the lady is right. My name is Superman and I work anywhere in the world that help is needed. I’m here to help.” He repeated his mantra.
Lois approached Grandma with her recorder, ready to interview the lady. “I’m Lois Lane from the Daily Planet,” identifying herself, she pointed in the direction of the Planet office building. “I work over there and we saw the commotion. May I ask your name?”
Proceeding with the interview, Lois got the story while Jimmy took more pictures. No longer the center of attention, little Susie got restless. Clark, er…
Superman, began playing with her bear, making it walk and go toward her. She eagerly accepted it back. He opened his arms, signaling he would like to pick her up and she went readily into his arms. Lifting her up, he held her on his hip like any father and began talking softly to her. Jimmy snapped more pictures.
Lois finished her interview and turned to see this strong, handsome man in a garish costume holding and talking to the child with great comfort, and the child was responding to him and laughing. “O.K. Susie, it’s time to go back to Grandma.” The little girl nodded and he put her back beside her sister.
Lois stood there, just staring. ‘Oh, oh,’ Clark thought, ‘Does she recognize me? Not this soon, I hope.’ Trying to take the attention off himself, he asked, “What happened to your arm and your head?”
Giving a small shake of her head as if to clear her thoughts, Lois replied, “I was in the car pile-up on the way to Metropolis Airport last night.”
Clark appeared to just remember. “Oh, right. I think I took you and your car to Metropolis General. How are you feeling?” He asked with polite concern and also with formality to keep some distance between them.
“I’m feeling quite well, if a little tired, thank you.”
“Would you like a lift back to work?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jimmy’s jaw drop. He really wanted to pick her up and hold her in his arms, but he knew he was treading on very dangerous ground. What if she recognized the feel of him? He would blow his cover on the first real day of work.
Her eyes were still fixed on his face. Shyly, she said, “That would be wonderful.”
Clark noticed Jimmy lifted his hand as if to ask for a ride too and let it drop when he saw the look in Lois’ eyes.
Heart beating so loud he could feel it, Clark walked the short distance to Lois, slipped his right arm behind her back so her right arm was away from his body, bent slightly and slipped his left arm under her knees, then picked her up and brought her in to his body. He heard several women in the crowd sigh. The men were transfixed. He lifted slowly up without any apparent effort. He was really trying to show the group that he was a safe person to transport them to help. Or was he kidding himself?
“You said you worked at the Daily Planet, right?” Lois nodded and said a small “yes” that he had to use his special hearing to hear. He turned in the air and accelerated gently toward the Daily Planet. He heard Jimmy start to run to get there first for the pictures.
*+*+*+*+*+*+
It was still bedlam in the bullpen with the staff trying phones, faxes and the internet bloggers to find out anything about the Man Who Flies.
Perry was thundering to the group, “As I said earlier today, I still don't believe there is a man who can fly.” Clark could hear him as he approached the window.
He headed for the large windows above the stacks because those were the only ones they could both fit through. Fortunately two were slightly open for ventilation even on this cold day. He used his hand under Lois’ knees to open it all the way so he could enter.
Just then, Perry turned toward the window and saw Superman hovering in the air, Lois in his arms.
“Great Shades of Elvis!” At his loud exclamation the bullpen went silent and everyone turned to the window.
A moment later, Superman flew Lois in through a high window and deposited her near her desk and helped her to be steady on her feet. He felt a sudden loss as he released his hold on her, but he had an image to build. Then he stood in what he was now considering to be his classic hero pose, feet spread and arms crossed across his chest.
Cat, along with several other women from the staff stared agog and moved to get closer to the couple. Cat said to the air, “I see it but I don’t believe it.”
“What? A man who flies?” Serena asked.
“No. Lois Lane, finally literally, swept off her feet. A man that perfect has to be an alien. Believe me, I know.”
“I have no doubt you do,” Serena responded somewhat acerbically.
Lois said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “
Superman, I think, considering the fact that I named you, you owe me an interview.”
A susurration of “Superman” went around the room. Even Perry was quiet, staring at the couple.
“Is that the rule?,” Superman asked with apparent amusement, not at all visibly thrown by the prospect of an interview with Mad Dog Lane.
Perry was surprised at the confidence of this newcomer. ‘More fool he,’ he thought privately.
“Well, um, no. But... I'd appreciate it. Very much.” Lois dared to put her good hand on his forearm. A sigh from the women and a gasp from the men were audible even to Lois. Lois smiled and removed her hand.
Superman made a small exit bow and began to turn in order to fly out but Lois called after him, “Wait a minute. How do I find you?”
Superman responded to the group, “I'll be around,” and then he levitated slowly, hearing more gasps, and flew back out the top window, turning and closing it down to where it was before. Hovering for a moment and looking back through the window at the group of entranced faces, he then shot straight up. After a moment a sonic boom could be heard.
A slightly out of breath Jimmy had the last word for the day’s events, “Real smooth.”
Clark took a quick circle of the Earth to wear off his excess adrenalin and calm his nerves. He would give Lois the interview tomorrow. After this afternoon, he really didn’t feel up to it emotionally. Further, he felt like the metaphoric thin ice was beginning to crack beneath his boots.
*+*+*+*+*+*+
tbc.
Artemis
