Previously: "Clark?" I whisper, scarcely believing it.
His eyes widen.
Dr. Klein continues his countdown, "--four, three--"
There's a loud screeching noise and I look up, trying to locate the source of the sound. It's somewhere outside, above this basement level room. There are panicked screams and cries ringing in my ears and then something hot slams into my back.
I sway forward, reaching out for balance. My fingers slip over the slickness of his suit as my entire body shakes and my knees give out beneath me. True to his word, he doesn't let me fall. That same pink haze fills my vision as the screams fade. My mind spins, trying to comprehend everything that just happened.
Clark's head jerks up as he now hears the commotion above us. Then he looks at me, his expression torn between relief and anxiety. I understand just how invasive and disruptive super-hearing can be, so I push away from him, righting myself on wobbly legs.
"Lois--," he starts to say.
I wave my hand to express how urgent I know those cries are. "Go!"
He's gone in an instant. <><><>
Flying Lessons 3/3
<><><>
As I leave STAR Labs, I can see that a garbage truck has collided with a bus on the far side of the plaza. Wailing sirens signal loudly that emergency vehicles are on their way. A growing crowd of people are watching Superman as he works to free the passengers trapped inside the bus. For the first time ever I can see past the flashy disguise of the superhero to the man I thought I knew.
It all makes sense now - all those suddenly-remembered appointments and urgent errands. Clark wasn't leery of commitment or restless. He was selflessly giving up little pieces of his life to help others. No matter how inconvenient the interruption, Clark is simply too nice to ignore those cries for help. Superman helps people because he's Clark, not the other way around.
I try to summon up some anger that Clark never told me, but after a day in his boots I know exactly why he wouldn't want to share his secret. I would never tell anyone something that profound and personal - especially a take-no-prisoners reporter obsessed with the flashier parts of my appearance. Until yesterday, I sort of assumed that Superman simply faded into the background and waited for the next disaster. Knowing the truth is somehow worse. He does have a life - but he has no one to go home to at night. I suppose he can visit his parents on a whim, but what does he do the rest of the time?
I already know the answer. He has a job – one that he’s damn good at doing. He sits through long and pointless meetings, edits my copy, and listens to me swoon over his alter ego. He takes me to lunch, brings me coffee, and saves my life. He's my best friend. Clark is the kind of friend who, even though he must have been shattered over losing his abilities, still took the time to teach me how to fly.
I told Clark last night that I wanted to take him flying because it was the coolest thing that had ever happened to me and I wanted someone to share it with. It’s only now that I can recognize that he taught me how to fly for the very same reason. For the first time ever there was someone he could share the experience with; someone who could relate to his unique perspective and the delicate balancing act that is his life.
An ambulance has arrived on the scene and I watch in appreciative awe as Clark gently moves an injured woman onto a stretcher. There are so many things he could do with those powers and yet he only uses them to help. Clark's strength of character is even more amazing than the fact that he could bench press that bus without breaking a sweat.
With the woman safely loaded into the ambulance, Clark looks in my direction and I'm pretty sure he sees me watching him. Is it my imagination or does he hesitate for a moment before turning to talk to the EMT? A cold shiver of dread runs through me. What if Clark is regretting my newfound knowledge? It stands to reason that, had he wanted to share, he would have told me already. How weird are things going to be between us now?
Saddened by the thought that I may have lost more than I gained in finding out his secret, I turn and walk away.
<><><>
As soon as I step out of the elevator, Perry catches sight of me and yells that he needs to see me in his office immediately. I sigh wearily and work my way across the newsroom. I know what Perry wants to talk about; I’m just not sure I’m up for the task. I don't even have the door closed before he starts in. “Do you have anything on that mystery woman yet?”
“No,” I answer, hating the lie. I sweeten my deceit by adding, “There was an accident in front of STAR Labs and Superman showed up. I was able to speak with him. He doesn’t know anything about the mystery woman either.”
Perry frowns in annoyance. “So she’s no relation?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then we’ll lead with that.” Perry frowns again and goes behind his desk to sit down. He looks up at me with deliberately exaggerated curiosity. “Anything else?”
“Nope.” I walk backwards, eager to leave. “I’ll have something for you in an hour.”
“Make it thirty minutes.” Perry shuffles through some papers on his desk, shifting his irritation from me to other matters.
<><><>
For at least the last ten minutes I've been staring at the half-truths on my computer's monitor. It feels as if the blinking cursor is mocking me with the story I can't share. My mind keeps returning to the moment when I called Superman 'Clark' and he didn't correct me. I look over at Clark's desk and wonder when he's going to return. What is he thinking, right now? Is he avoiding me? Is he disappointed with me? After all, I only spent one day with his powers before I was eager to call it quits.
In spite of my current level of anxiety and the fact that I spent the morning napping, I'm still exhausted from last night. After a couple of slow blinks, I give in to the weariness and close my eyelids. The noise of the newsroom seems to lessen a little as I slip into the blissful remembrance of hovering high above Metropolis with Clark.
I remember the sound of his heartbeat and the way it sped up as our lips met. If only I hadn't had to leave to go rescue that ungrateful woman and her dog. Shame mixes with my regret. How many times has Clark gone to help someone and I've harangued him upon his return? Part of me wishes I could see Clark right now and apologize profusely for how deeply I've misunderstood him. The rest of me fears that since he never trusted me with his secret before, he might very well wish to avoid me now.
"Lois?"
I jerk back to reality to find Perry standing by my desk. I quickly jiggle the mouse to kill off the screen saver and blurt out, "I was just reading through this once more before--."
"Send it," Perry interrupts. Gone is the brusque manner from earlier; now he's shifted to sounding paternal. "You look exhausted."
I stare at my keyboard, too drained to even try denying it.
"Go home." Perry raps his knuckles twice on my desk as if to say his decision is final and I can't appeal. "I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early."
<><><>
By the time I get home I'm far more nervous than tired. At some point I'm going to have to talk to Clark. Neither one of us can avoid the other for the rest of our lives. Well, I guess he could. He could fly away to Outer Mongolia or the Arctic or some tiny island that only he knows about. I look at my couch and remember how nice it was to fall asleep against Clark's shoulder there this morning. My breath catches in my throat as I realize just how completely Clark understood my situation - and just how much I've never understood his.
I go to the window and open it all the way. If he chances by surely he'll read that as an invitation? There's so much I want to reassure him about. I have a lot of questions, too, but I'm willing to wait until he's ready to give me the answers. Well, okay, there are a few questions I really would like him to answer as soon as possible. Starting with what he was going to tell me before Dr. Klein interrupted us.
Was he going to confess?
The more I think about it, the more consumed I am by curiosity. What was Clark about to say? What if he had been planning to tell me the truth before Dr. Klein interrupted us? Somehow that would be better, wouldn't it? It would show that he actually wanted me to know the truth. Usually, when I discover something big that someone has been hiding, my fingers itch to start typing. In this instance, with a first-hand knowledge of the life-changing stakes involved, all I can feel is intrusive. Please, Clark, give me a chance and I swear I'll prove that you can trust me.
I'm going to go crazy if I keep pacing around my apartment so I crawl out onto the fire escape and tip my head back to watch for him. After a few minutes, I sit down but continue scanning the gathering dusk above me for a glimpse of red cape. The lights of the city begin to come on and the temperature is rapidly dropping, but I don't want to go inside. If he flies by and sees me sitting out here, he'll know that I really, really want to talk to him.
Time slows to a crawl and the minutes feel like days as I sit there, growing colder but too fearful I'll miss him to go inside and grab a jacket. My attention drifts to a loose thread on the cuff of my sleeve. I pick idly at it even though I know it might ruin the shirt. And then, suddenly and without a sound, Superman lands with cat-like grace in front of me.
My breath whooshes out of me and I have to struggle against the jelly my knees have become to stand up. My voice practically squeaks as I say, "Hi… Clark." Can he hear my heartbeat? Does he know how nervous I am, right now? Is it okay to use his real name when we're alone?
“Hi.” The evening shadows hide his expression and I'm frustrated that I can't tell what he's thinking.
He must notice that I'm shivering because he gestures at the window. "Would you like to go inside?"
Disappointment, so deep and bitter that I can actually feel my soul shrinking, fills me. He's not going to ask me to fly with him. I'm embarrassed to realize that I had this all planned in my head. Clark would tell me he's always wanted to fly above Metropolis with me in his arms. And then he would pick me up and take me high above the city and we'd finish our kiss from last night. Reality is bittersweet: he's still my friend and he cares just enough to get me inside before I freeze to death.
"Sure," I agree in a choked whisper.
Inside, in full light, his super-suit seems like the garish distraction it was no doubt designed to be. I want desperately to get to the man underneath; the one who wears jeans and a t-shirt after work and couldn't pick out a coordinating tie if his life depended on it. Instead, I'm filled with disappointment for the romantic daydream that just died and tongue-tied because I don't know what to say to him anymore.
Clark looks around my apartment like it's the first time he's ever been there. Then he softly asks, "May I?" and indicates one of my sofas.
"Yeah, of course." I sit down on the opposite sofa.
"I read your story in the evening edition," he says. His right knee bounces nervously and I wonder if he's upset that I directly quoted Superman without actually speaking to him or if he's wishing he was anywhere but here.
"I'm sorry. I know I didn't actually interview you, but…."
He shakes his head. "No, no. Don't worry about it. It's basically what I would have said."
Our eyes meet for half a second and knowing who he really is feels too intense. I quickly look away. "So, uh, did they all come back? Your powers?" I glance at him in time to see him nod as he answers.
"Yes." His fingers play with the edge of his cape, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle.
"That's good," I reply automatically, just to have something to say.
"Yeah."
At this moment I wish more than anything that I could still fly so I could leave in a hurry. This is even more awkward than the end of our first date, only now I can't slam the door shut and put a mercifully quick end to it. What if he actually had wanted to take me flying? If this is cringe-inducing, imagine how much worse it could be at 2,000 feet.
"May I ask you a question?" His voice is low and, when I look over at him, his expression is deadly serious.
Foreboding ripples through me. Does he think I've told someone his secret? Does he think that I have the whole story typed up and ready to go? Whatever he's about to ask, I'm certain it's going to change our relationship forever. At this moment I would give anything to have him simply be Clark to me again. I give him a nod and brace for the worst.
Clark takes a deep breath and then asks, "How angry are you?"
I blink, trying to comprehend the question. Angry? He thinks I'm angry?
"I don't blame you," he rushes to speak before I can. "You have every right to be upset. I know you might not believe this, but I've wanted to tell you for a while now. Especially since we started dating. There just never seemed to be a good time."
I stare at him, shocked into silence that Clark actually wanted to trust me with the mother of all secrets. "You were going to tell me?"
He stands up and comes over to sit next to me. His expressive dark eyes look pleadingly into mine. "I was so ashamed yesterday, when the first thing you did was confide in me. I've owed you that same trust, Lois. I'm so sorry. Will you forgive me?"
"Clark--." Words fail me and I can feel my cheeks flushing. This close I can't help but be affected by him. In the past it was a schoolgirl's crush on Superman that made me weak-kneed in his presence. Now my mind is spinning because I know the real flesh-and-blood man beneath the suit. I've kissed those lips and been held in those arms and now he's sitting so close to me that his knee is pressed against mine.
"I owe you everything," he says earnestly and his hand takes hold of mine. His touch sings through me as I realize that everything Clark does has to be deliberately gentle. All those casual little taps and brushes from him have never once been accidental. Restrained affection has never seemed sexier than it does right now.
"You don't owe me anything," I whisper.
"You covered for me." He shakes his head in apparent wonder. "When I read your story tonight and realized that you…." His voice trails off and he clears his throat softly. "Thank you, Lois."
"You covered for me this morning," I point out. "Isn't that what partners are for?"
I swear that time stops for a moment or two. All I can do is frantically hope that he'll say 'yes'.
"Partners," he confirms with that smile of his that never fails to melt my defenses, especially at this particular moment. "And… friends?"
I can't help grinning back at him in sheer relief. "Best friends," I tell him and squeeze his hand. Our eyes meet and I'm almost hypnotized by the blatant adoration in his.
"Lois, last night…." He takes a deep breath. "You have no idea how much last night meant to me. I've wanted to take you flying, god, I can't even tell you how many times I've dreamed about that. But I wanted it to be, well, like last night. Flying, just us. No Superman, no deception. Just us."
"Just us," I whisper. My mind swims with the promise inherent in those two words. Just us. Me and Clark. "I like the sound of that."
"Would you fly with me?" That sly and familiar smile of his tugs at the corners of his mouth and I know he's about to tease me. "I promise I won't drop you."
It's the same promise I gave Clark last night to entice him to fly with me. I remember what he said, as Superman, about never having known someone well enough to tease them. I can't help but let out a little giggle as I realize that he's using an inside joke to acknowledge the secret we now share.
I pretend to consider it. "I don't know. Would you have to hold me?"
He gives me a solemn nod that's totally at odds with the twinkle in his eyes. "Yes."
My heart soars at the thought of him holding me, but being able to kid with Superman because he's my best friend is so much fun that I can't help arching one eyebrow and asking, "How close?"
Clark stands up and pulls gently on my hand so that I stand up to join him. "Close," he tells me in a low voice that sends a heated shiver through me.
My throat suddenly feels too dry to make a snappy comeback so I simply nod instead. Clark releases my hand and walks to the window. He holds the curtain back and gestures for me to go ahead of him. I climb out onto the fire escape and he follows. My entire body is thrumming with anticipation as he steps closer to me. Then the weight of his hands settles on my hips. His touch is infinitely gentle and yet faintly possessive as he whispers, "This close."
I have a moment of panic as I realize that, in less than a minute, it's just going to be the two of us, somewhere high above the city. I close my eyes and try to take a deep calming breath but I can't seem to get any air. I think of last night, of how wonderful it was to be alone with him. The sad truth is that, while I was in control last night, tonight I most definitely am not. I think about how much trust he showed me last night; how he never seemed to have even a flicker of doubt in either my ability to keep him safe or my intentions - not even when I threatened to drop him. I've flown with him before, but never under this new set of circumstances, and it's paralyzing me.
Clark must sense my hesitation because he makes me almost the same offer I gave him last night. "If you get nervous or you want to come back, just tell me, okay?"
I look up and the expression on his face takes away what little breath I've managed to take in. It's the same expression he had last night when he looked at me like I was his entire world. It's the same look of open affection that I found so hypnotic only a few minutes ago. Clark adores me. He would never hurt me. He might tease me on the ground, but I doubt he'd ever be so cavalier in mid-air. I wish I hadn't ruined the flirty mood we had going before I balked.
"Is it the way I'm holding you?" he asks. "I know I've always kind of carried you before, but I really liked it last night, being face to face like that."
"I did, too. It was more… equal." I put my arms around his waist to show him I'm willing to go now. "Take me flying, Clark."
His fingers tighten ever so slightly on my hips and he dips his head to whisper near my ear, "I've waited so long to hear you ask me that."
I close my eyes for a few seconds, letting my senses swim in how nice he smells and how giddy just being this close to him makes me feel. All at once, I'm beyond eager to have him all to myself and I look up so I can tell him to get moving. That's when I see the roof of the building across the street slipping away behind him. I'm shocked to realize that we're already flying and it's so smooth that I never even felt my feet leave the ground. I feel a momentary twinge of envy that floating was never this effortless for me.
"You're really good at this," I tell him.
He grins and his chin dips slightly in acknowledgement. "So were you," he generously tells me.
I laugh and shake my head. "Not this good."
"Practice," he says with a slight shrug that somehow brings me closer against him.
I want so badly to kiss him, but it doesn't seem like a good idea when we're still low enough that people can see us. I ask him a question instead. "Did your parents ever find out? When you jumped in the quarry? Did you get in trouble for that?"
"Yes. It took a couple of weeks for the gossip to get back to my mom, but like I said, I was a legend for it. It was inevitable that she'd find out."
"Were you grounded?"
Clark shakes his head. "Worse. I had to live with the guilt that I had devastated my parents by being so careless. They weren't upset because I could have been hurt; they'd long since figured out that I was nearly indestructible. They were worried that someone might ask too many questions. My dad was always warning me about showing off; that someday someone would try to dissect me like a frog."
I think about the wackos who have tried to do exactly that and I feel another rush of gratitude for the trust he's showing me in sharing his secret.
"I would never let anyone do that to you," I promise him.
"We'll protect each other," he says with a smile.
I grin and then look away, awed all over again when I see the twinkling sea of lights as Metropolis lies spread out beneath us. The western horizon is tinted orange and red with the sunset and above us the stars are beginning to fill the sky. I'm breathless from the beauty of the surroundings and the new understanding I have of Clark. I lay my cheek against his chest and hear the now-familiar rhythm of his heartbeat.
"Are you cold?" he asks. I can feel the rumble of his voice against my cheek.
"Maybe a little," I admit, willing to admit to anything if it means he'll keep me close against him.
I realize that I really was getting cold as he wraps his cape around me, enveloping me in warmth. One of his arms encircles me, low on my waist. His other hand rests on the middle of my back, wide and warm. One of his knees slides between mine, sending a different kind of heat through me. I feel him place a soft kiss near my ear and the warmth of his cheek warm against mine. "I still owe you dinner," he whispers. "You choose where. Anywhere you want."
Now that we're here I don't want this to end. All my fears about commitment seem utterly groundless in the face of this simple intimacy with Clark. "I don't want to leave, not just yet."
I can feel his smile against my cheek. "Me neither."
Clark's hand smoothes slowly along my spine, setting off a heated chain reaction inside me. I can feel my heart pounding and I know he must hear it. I tilt my head back to find his mouth is kissably close.
"We were interrupted last night," I tell him.
He nods. "Yes."
There's a long breathless moment while I wait for him to kiss me. He doesn't and I wonder if he's being deliberately obtuse or if there's another reason why he's not taking the hint. I decide to make it a lot more obvious. "Maybe we should finish what we started?"
His eyes darken and his voice sounds huskier as he asks, "What are we starting, Lois?"
It's comforting somehow to know that he's just as unsure as I am about what lies ahead. I touch his cheek, running my thumb lightly over his lower lip. I see him swallow reflexively and it only increases my confidence.
"Us," I tell him. "No Superman, no more deceptions. Just us."
"Us," he repeats with a smile. He keeps one arm securely around me and lifts his other hand to the back of my head as he bends to kiss me.
The first touch of his lips is soft, almost hesitant. His second kiss has no hesitation at all to it and I respond eagerly. If it were possible to float on happiness alone, I would be the one keeping us there, suspended between the stars and the city.
Just us.
<><><>
The End
My heartfelt gratitude goes out to Vicki who nudged me into resurrecting this story and finishing it. Thanks also to everyone who has read along and offered me encouragement.
