Clark took a deep breath. He wanted to know. He had to know. But in knowing, he risked his hopes being ground into the dirt. "Is there anything between you and Dan Scardino?"
Part 15
"No."
Clark hadn't been expecting such a short, direct response. Certainly, it gave him the bald answer he'd hoped for, but he felt the lack of some much-needed further detail. "No?" he questioned.
"No."
"But you're friends?"
Lois paused, but then she spoke hurriedly as if trying to negate her hesitation. "Yes."
She obviously didn't want to talk about this. The openness he had come to associate with Lois Lane was absent as she stared at him, stoically awaiting his next question. He didn't want to pry ... but he did want to know if there was any reason why he shouldn't ask her for a date. "Does Dan know there is nothing beyond friendship?" Clark asked gently.
Lois looked away, and he was startled to see the glistening evidence of tears in her eyes. "He knows," she said roughly.
So Scardino had left her broken-hearted. Clark lamented the table that separated him from Lois. He wished her hand were on top of it ... wished there was a part of her close enough for him to touch. "Tell me if it's none of my business," he said, offering her a way out.
"It's none of your business." The harshness of her words was tempered somewhat as she tried to force a smile through her still-threatening tears.
"I'm sorry," Clark said.
Lois pushed away her empty cup and stood abruptly. "Let's go and see if Ron has the snags cooking."
Clark stood too. "Snags are sausages?" he guessed, clutching at something he hoped would provide a painless exit from the subject of Dan Scardino.
Lois nodded. She shouted a farewell to Bantam in the kitchen and walked out of the Social Club.
Clark followed her across the road and back onto the little rise just inside the gates of Glenferrie Oval. During their absence, it had transformed into a hubbub of activity. On the playing area, about thirty-five men were involved in various kicking and handball drills. Walking amongst them were men Clark assumed to be coaches. He watched in silent salute to their ability to move the ball between them with such speed and precision.
About sixty people were scattered on the concrete area between the grandstand and the oval. The outfit of choice was definitely the brown-and-gold Hawthorn jumper. Many of the spectators were leaning forward, forearms perched on the hip-high wire fence as they watched training and, Clark guessed, talked about their team. Behind the goal posts, a father kicked a miniature football with two toddling boys whose enthusiasm regularly erupted into shrieks of delight.
From Ron's barbeque rose the delectable smell of cooking sausages making this seem more like a gathering of friends than a training session for a professional sports team.
"Are you watching the game tonight?" Clark asked Lois.
"Yeah," she said, her eyes not moving from the players on the ground. "North Melbourne-St Kilda. I'm expecting a slaughter."
Clark chuckled. "Literally?"
She didn't smile at his question. "No. But North should win easily."
"Would you like to take the fish and chips to my place and watch it together?" Clark asked casually.
Lois's gaze didn't shift. "Do you have Milo?"
"Yes."
"Tim Tams?"
"Yes."
She turned to face him, and his heart surged because her smile had returned. "Then I guess that's what we'll do," she said.
"Stick 'em up, Lane," came a low voice from behind Clark. "And no one'll get hurt."
Clark whirled and came face to face with a young guy - blond and tanned, dressed in a pink tee and cut-off jeans, and with a grin as wide as the Brooklyn Bridge. Lois sprang from behind Clark and she leapt into the guy's arms. He spun her around until they both had to be dizzy, and then plonked her on her feet and smacked a big kiss on her cheek.
"Seb," Lois said. "What are you doing here?"
"Dad rang and said he'd managed to hold you here with the promise of snags, so I thought I'd drop by and see how you're doing."
"I'm doing fine," Lois said, still grinning with pleasure. "How about you, Seb? How're you going in Sydney? Have they converted you to rugby yet?"
"Not much chance of that," Seb said.
Lois turned to Clark. "Seb," she said. "This is Clark. He's on exchange from the States."
Seb's handshake was firm and his blue eyes met Clark's steadily. His smile, though, was noticeably cool.
"Clark, this is Seb; he's Ron's son."
"Pleased to meet you, Clark," Seb said. He gestured to where his father was cooking the sausages. "You get the first snag, Lois," he said.
"Are you coming?"
"In a minute," Seb replied. "Go and make sure the old man doesn't burn them."
Ron looked up from the barbeque, saw them, and waved enthusiastically. Lois went over to him.
Seb turned to Clark. "How long are you here for?"
"Three months."
"I have less than a minute, so I'm going to give it to you straight," Seb said. "Lois is like family to us. You cross her, you cross all of us. Do you understand?"
Clark nodded.
"Don't forget you're going home. And don't let her forget it either."
"I have no intention of hurting her," Clark said.
Seb met him head-on with a steely blue gaze. "You'd better not." With that, he turned, and strode out of Glenferrie Oval.
Lois returned with a sausage wrapped in bread and covered in tomato ketchup. "Where's Seb?" she asked.
"He had to go."
"Typical. He's harder to pin down than a jellyfish." She took a bite of her sausage. "Go and get a snag," she said.
Clark shook his head. "No, thanks," he said, hoping Seb's appearance hadn't changed Lois's plans for the evening. "I think I'll keep some room for the fish and chips tonight."
"OK," she agreed easily and turned back to watch the training.
Clark also looked at the players on the oval, but his mind took in nothing of what they were doing.
Lois *wasn't* in a relationship with Dan Scardino.
But she might still love him, an inner voice cautioned. She might still hold hope that things could be different with Dan.
Clark's optimism deflated, but it couldn't be completely subdued. He was in Melbourne; Scardino was far away in Metropolis. And this evening, it would be him, Clark, who was with Lois.
It wasn't a date exactly.
But he'd asked, and she'd said yes.
And sometime very soon, Clark decided, he was going to ask her out. He'd had enough of tiptoeing around his feelings. He didn't want to be merely her colleague. He didn't want to be just her friend. He wanted a lot more than that. It was time to speak.
Tonight.
Tonight, he would ask her. An opportunity was sure to present itself - perhaps during half-time as they drank their Milo.
And when that opportunity came, Clark intended to take it. And he intended to ensure there was no possible ambiguity.
Regardless of what Seb or anyone else thought, it was time Lois knew how Clark felt about her.
||_||
The fish and chips were eaten, and Lois and Clark were settled on the couch with the football about to begin on the television. Unfortunately, Scardino's couch was bigger than Lois's, so there was more room to spread out.
Lois glanced in Clark's direction, smiling slightly.
He smiled back.
"Clark?" she said.
"Yes?"
She paused. "I ... ah, I feel a bit embarrassed about today."
He wondered if she was referring to her tears when he had asked her about Scardino.
"When I went on about Hawthorn," Lois clarified. "You're here for three months. Even though you're very polite and a fantastic listener, I'm sure your interest in anything here will pass quickly once you return home."
No. No, it wouldn't. Clark was sure of that. He thought again about his plans to ask her for a date and glanced at his watch. The game would start in less than five minutes. He decided to wait for half-time. "I think it is always interesting when people talk about something they love," he said.
"Maybe ... but I did go on a bit."
"You gave me the greatest insight I've had into how much football means here."
She looked surprised. "I did?"
Clark nodded. "And then later - during training - it was like a happy gathering of a big family. You seemed to know a lot of people."
"Many of the trainers - the people who help with training and on match days - have been there for years. They were there when I was a little girl hanging around because I had nowhere else to go."
"And they all called you Lois."
She smiled. "'Flinders' only came once I started working at the Herald Sun. Hawthorn was way, way before that."
"That guy who came over and talked to you? You didn't know him, did you?"
"No," Lois said. "But he barracks for Hawthorn."
She seemed to think that was sufficient explanation. And Clark figured it was. He'd listened to the conversation between Lois and the supporter who had shyly approached her. Clark had been fascinated by their immediate rapport, by how they had slipped into an easy discussion fuelled by a mountain of shared memories.
Lois stretched out her legs and placed her feet on the corner of the coffee table. "What's it like having parents who still love each other?"
Clark dragged his mind from their time at Glenferrie Oval. "Ah ... great, I suppose."
"I bet you've never thought about it."
"Not too much," he admitted.
"Fair enough," Lois said. "I guess that's all you've known."
"Did your dad move back to the States?" Clark asked. "Did he ever get back with your mom?"
"Yes and no. Yes, he did move back to the States. No, he never went back to my mother."
"Are you close to them?"
"No."
"Neither of them?"
"My mother has never forgiven me for staying here when I was ten," Lois said. "She went back to Michigan. I go and see her for Christmas some years, but it's about as much fun as having a tooth pulled."
Clark slid his arm along the top of the couch and dropped his fingers onto her shoulder. "Have you ever talked to her about Hawthorn?" he asked. "About the life you've made for yourself here?"
"I've tried," Lois said. "I've tried to explain, and I've tried to show her the game, but she is convinced I am wasting my life."
"What about your dad?" Clark asked.
"I lived with Dad until I was seventeen," Lois said. "We'd go back to the States once or twice a year to see Mom and Lucy but all it did was highlight the gulf between us. Then one year Dad planned a trip in September, but Hawthorn were in the finals, so I told him I wasn't going anywhere. We had a huge row, and he told me it was time that I grew up and got over my silly obsession with football."
Clark didn't need to be told that that hadn't ended well.
"I told him Hawthorn were not going into a finals campaign without me," Lois said. "And then I packed my bags and walked out. I went to Ron's place and stayed with him and his wife. They tried to talk me into going home and attempting to fix things with my dad, but I wouldn't. The next day, Dad came to Ron's and told me he had accepted a position in Chicago and was leaving Australia for good. He said I had two choices - I could live in Chicago with him or go back to Detroit with Mom."
"Which did you choose?"
Lois grinned. "There was no contest. I chose Hawthorn. I was just a few months off finishing school, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do - be a footy journalist. Not much chance of that happening in either Chicago or Detroit."
Clark knew he needed to tread carefully. "Do you ever regret that decision?" he asked.
Her grin faded. "No," she said. "It wasn't anything I did that caused the rift in my family. Things were broken way before then."
"But they're ..."
"My family?" Lois said wistfully. "I realise it's hard for you to understand how anyone could choose a football club over their family, and had my family been like yours, I'm sure things would have been very different. In fact, my love for Hawthorn may not have been so all-encompassing if I'd felt that ... connection ... with my family. But we didn't have it ... probably will never have it ..."
"It was a huge decision for a teenager," Clark said, hoping she would hear the respect in his voice. "To choose to stay ... to make your life here ... when everyone in your family is in another country."
"I knew what I wanted to do, but that doesn't mean I made the decision lightly," Lois said. "That night at Ron's after I'd walked out on Dad ... I thought about every possible negative outcome of staying. I worked through them one by one, and in the end, I still wanted to stay."
"What happened then?" Clark asked. "Did you live with Ron and his wife?"
"Yeah. For the next four years." Her smile broke through again. "They were the best years of my life. Hawthorn made the Grand Final eight years out of nine - and won five flags. Imagine what I'd have missed if I'd gone back with Dad. And, I was part of a family. Ron and his wife, Barb, adore each other, and having Seb for a brother was such a lot of fun. I had absolutely everything - a home, a family, and Hawthorn."
"Why did you leave them?"
"I finished uni and got a job with the Riverine Herald in Echuca. That's up on the Murray River." Lois smiled pensively. "Ron and Barb are more like my parents than my real parents."
"Do you ever go home?"
"Home?" she said. "As in Ron' and Barb's home? Or as in the States?"
"The States."
"Once a year - in summer, which is the footy off-season. I spend a few days with Dad and hear the same lecture about how I need to stop wasting my life on a no-account sport in an insignificant city. Then I go to Mom and hear the same diatribe with the added bonus of listening to every little detail about how badly Dad treated her. Sometimes, I stop-over in California and have a few awkward meetings with my sister, Lucy, and then board the plane, very, very glad to be going home."
"So this is your home?"
Lois nodded. "But it's not really about the countries. It's more about the people. I just happened to find exactly what I needed exactly when I needed it. My parents were in constant turmoil, and my home was always on the edge of self-destruction. A football team is twenty-one players who are willing to sacrifice just about everything for team success. It's about mateship and teamwork and commitment. The contrast was stark, and I gravitated towards it - and found acceptance. Possibly, if we'd stayed in Detroit, I'd have fallen in love with the Detroit ... whatever ... and I'd be writing for the ..."
Clark smiled. "I think hockey would have been your game, so you'd be a Red Wings fan. And you'd be writing for the Detroit News."
"Maybe I would," Lois said with a smile. "Uhm, the Red Wings, that's a cool name. How many flags have they won?"
"They haven't won the Stanley Cup since 1955."
Lois grimaced. "That's a longer drought than Geelong's," she said. "Perhaps it is better that I was here." She thoughtfully brushed back her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "Success is nice, but that's only a part of it."
"What's the rest?"
"Belonging. Being involved. Experiencing the joy together - and the pain."
Clark nodded his understanding. "Will you do something for me?" he asked.
"What?"
"I'd like you to think of a Hawthorn story to tell me at half-time."
"Really?"
"Yes," he said. And after you've told me your story, I'm going to ask you for a date, he silently promised both of them. "I'm sure you have hundreds of stories you could tell me."
"I do," she said.
"So which one do I get tonight?"
She craned her neck and looked around the room. "If you have tissues, you get the Crimmo story," she said.
"It's going to upset you?" Clark asked, wondering if this would be the best prelude to his invitation.
She nodded with a sad smile. "Maybe. But it's a part of our history, and if you're a part of Hawthorn, you need to know this story."
Clark deepened his contact with her shoulder. "Thanks," he said.
On the television, the siren sounded, and their attention turned to the game.
||_||
By half-time, North was six goals up in a game that, as Lois had predicted, wasn't a close contest.
Clark stood from the couch. "I'll make the Milo," he said.
"Need some help?" Lois offered as she stood and stretched.
"I can probably manage," Clark said with smile that he hoped covered his growing nervousness. "You can get out the Tim Tams."
They were both stalled in their progress to the kitchen by the short news bulletin that had replaced the football on the television. It detailed the final preparations for the Atlanta Olympics Opening Ceremony, due to start early the following morning, Australian time.
"Will you miss being in your home country when they have the Olympics?" Lois asked.
Before Clark could answer, the newsreader had moved to a newsflash. He gave the sketchy details of unconfirmed reports that a bomb had been placed in a prominent business building in Metropolis. He said it was believed that the Central Police Station had received a warning that the explosion was 'imminent'.
Lois looked to Clark, her face ashen. "Oh, no," she breathed. "How awful."
Clark's heart was hammering violently in his chest. This could *not* be happening. Not now.
Metropolis needed Superman.
But Superman was with Lois Lane, on the other side of the world, watching a game of Australian football and trying to ask her out.
And Superman had decided to stay out of the public eye.
But if there was a bomb, and it wasn't able to be safely defused, people would die. And those people trying to divert the disaster would risk their lives.
He could make the city safe.
Lois approached him, her face serious. She laid a comforting hand on his arm. "Oh, Clark," she said. "You must be worried about your friends."
"Lois," Clark said, his mind spinning, but nothing productive coming from it. "Lois ... Lois, I need you to leave."
Her concern turned to confusion. "You want me to leave now?" she asked in a small voice.
"Yes. Yes. Please. Sorry. I just ... remembered ... I have an important ... something important ... a phone call ... I need to make, and I need to do it alone."
He watched her, silently pleading for her understanding. No, that was too much to ask. But he needed her acquiescence. And he needed it now.
Lois eyed him for a moment, her face mostly showing her bewilderment, but Clark was sure he could see a little trickle of hurt filtering through her shock. "Of course," she said, and she bent low to pick up her bag.
Clark had run away from Mayson before - when Superman had been needed. He'd run off and returned later to face her wrath, but it had never felt as awful as this.
He followed Lois to the door, distraught that he couldn't even offer to walk her home. "Sorry," he said. "Sorry. See you tomorrow."
"We're at different games," she said. Then she walked through his door without a backward glance.
As soon as she was out of the door, Clark closed it. Before he could think too much about the hurt on her face, he spun into the suit and flew to Metropolis.
||_||
Clark hovered above the city. To his surprise, he felt a wave of affection, as if he had come back to somewhere that had a place in his heart.
Now, it was a city in panic. The sidewalk was filled with people running every which way. The streets were jammed with vehicles; some with drivers relentlessly sounding their horns, and others standing in silent testimony to having been abandoned by those who'd realised that escape wasn't going to be possible by car.
The subway had been closed, which meant that many of those who had come into the city that morning were now trying desperately to flee, driven by the powerful combination of uncertain knowledge and mind-numbing dread.
Clark located the bomb easily. He scanned the whole area and found three more. They were in four buildings that could be considered to be the corners of a square enclosing the central hub of Metropolis. The first one was timed to explode in twelve minutes, with the others to follow at intervals of eight minutes.
He checked for any hidden dangers. There was nothing to indicate that the bombs were linked - that the successful deactivation of the first would trigger the others.
His impulse was to simply take out the bombs - one at a time and, situation fixed, fly back to Melbourne. He stalled, remembering Lois's words when he'd tried on the football outfit. She had said that body language was crucial. Clark squared his shoulders.
<You need to believe you can do this, Clark. If you believe it, others will too.>
He heard her quiet voice inside his head.
The desire to hide was strong. He'd always felt compelled to hide. Not as Clark, but as the alien with strange powers, he had certainly wanted to hide.
<You can do this, Clark.>
Clark searched among the police officers gathered on the street. He recognised Eric. And Henderson. Without taking the time for further deliberation, Clark swooped down and dropped into the midst of the group. They startled at his sudden appearance, but their shock was quickly replaced by relief.
"Superman," Eric said, stepping forward. "Thank you for coming."
"What do you know?" Clark asked.
He saw their surprise that he was consulting with them, but though he searched their faces, he could see no evidence of fear or dismay.
"An anonymous and untraceable call came in about an hour ago," Henderson said. "It claimed that a bomb had been hidden in the Hobb's Bay Business Center."
"Only one?" Clark queried.
Alarm flooded Henderson's face. "There are more?" he gulped.
"There are four," Clark said. "The first one is in the Business Center, and it will blow in about ten minutes."
"And the other three?" Eric asked, stricken.
"Are set to explode at eight minute intervals."
"Is there anything you can do?" Henderson asked.
"I can disable the bombs," Clark said.
"Isn't that risky?" Eric asked. "Even for someone of your strength?"
"I can see through the casing," Clark said. "I can see into the bomb and then -."
"You can see *into* the bomb?" Henderson gasped.
Clark experienced a fleeting uneasiness that perhaps he had divulged too much information, but he pushed aside his doubts. He could do this. The bombs - they were easy. But interacting with people, allowing them close enough to see him properly, allowing them to hear his voice, working with them instead of alone ... that was the difficult bit. That was what he had always avoided.
But now ...
He could do this.
"I can have the first bomb here in less than a minute," Clark said.
"Disabled?"
"Completely disabled," Clark said with confidence. "If you're worried about any possible danger, I can hurl it far into space - but I think it could be helpful to your investigation if you have it as evidence."
Henderson stepped forward. "Yes," he said. "If you can guarantee there will be no danger, please bring it back here."
Clark nodded and flew to the building.
A mere fifteen seconds later, he was back with the now-benign bomb in his hand. He offered it to Henderson. Henderson didn't take it immediately; instead, he eyed Clark, suspicion rife in his expression.
"It's completely safe," Clark assured him. He held it out and waited.
With a final jerky glance between the bomb and Clark's face, Henderson reached forward and took the bomb.
Clark gave him a hesitant smile. "It won't blow," he said.
Henderson's mouth twitched - not quite a smile, but close.
Clark flew to the remaining three buildings, and brought each bomb back to Henderson. When he had handed over the final one, instead of flying away immediately, he said, "I scanned a thirty mile radius, and there is no further danger."
"Thank you, Superman," Eric said. There was no mistaking the genuine gratitude and relief in his tone. "Thank you. You have saved the lives of many people today."
From behind him, he heard a shout. "Superman! Superman!"
He turned as Mayson Drake ran to him, her blonde hair flying behind her.
"Superman," she wheezed, breathing heavily.
The urge to flee was strong.
<You need to believe you can do this, Clark. If you believe it, others will too.>
Clark straightened to his fullest height, pushed back his shoulders, and folded his arms across his chest. He eyed Mayson steadily - relieved that she wouldn't be able to hear the thumping of his heart.
"Was there a bomb planted in a city building?" Mayson said.
<You can do this, Clark.> "There were four bombs." He listed the four buildings as Mayson scribbled notes.
"Is there any danger to the people of Metropolis now?" she asked.
"No. All of the bombs have been safely defused."
"What if there are other bombs? What if you missed something?" Mayson looked up from her notes, acrimony dripping from her stony expression. If this had ever been merely an interview, it wasn't anymore; it had become an interrogation.
"I didn't miss anything," Clark said steadily. "There is no danger now."
"How can you be sure?" she challenged with ill-concealed hostility.
"I can see through walls and concrete. I am sure there are no further bombs."
"You can see *through* walls?" Mayson gasped. Shock had dispersed some of the antagonism from her moue.
Clark nodded and didn't move his gaze from her face. He could do this. He didn't have to hide. He didn't have to run away.
Mayson recovered from her surprise quickly. "Of course, it's also possible that you knew the location of the bombs because you, or one of your fellow invaders, placed them there."
"I didn't," Clark stated. "And there is only me, and I mean no harm to anyone."
Mayson had opened her mouth, already armed with her next indictment, when a tall, dark-haired man stepped up behind her. He put his hand on her shoulder, and as Mayson spun abruptly, Clark feared that the man was about to pay for his rashness. Upon seeing who it was, the irritation drained from her like water from a leaky tank. The man gave Mayson a quick smile and then turned to Clark.
"G'day, Superman," the man said. "My name's Dan Scardino. On exchange from Oz. It's good to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."
As I have you, Clark thought, noticing that Dan's hand had remained on Mayson's shoulder. "Good to meet you, Mr Scardino," Clark said coolly. His eyes swung around to include Eric and Henderson and the interested crowd that had gathered. "I'll be around," he said, by way of farewell.
Then he slowly levitated, and the gasps of the crowd rose in his wake. He took the time to do a final check of Metropolis, looking for anything that could hurt the people of his city.
He saw Mayson and Dan hurrying back to the Daily Planet office.
Perry was behind his desk.
Clark smiled, wishing he could drop in and see how the Chief was doing.
But Perry White had never spoken to Superman, and Clark Kent was supposed to be on the other side of the world.
After a final patrol, Clark flew west to Kansas.
His parents were in the barn. Clark dropped quietly and stepped inside. They both turned from their tasks and looked at him.
"Clark," his father said.
His mother took in the suit, and concern immediately etched across her face. "What happened?" she said anxiously as she crossed the barn to him.
"Someone put bombs in four buildings in Metropolis," Clark said.
"And you stopped them from exploding?" his father asked.
Clark nodded. He could see his parents' anxiety, and he put a hand on each of their shoulders. "I've just dropped in for a few moments to let you know, so you didn't find out via a news report."
"Are you sure it was wise to go to Metropolis?" Martha said. "That Drake woman has been quiet for a while but she has never retracted the allegations she spat out after the train disaster."
"I'm sure," Clark said, hearing the quiet certainty in his own voice.
His parents noticed it, too, and their attention lingered on him. "Was Mayson there?" Martha asked.
"Yes. I spoke to her."
"You *spoke* to her?"
Clark nodded. "I think the time for hiding is over. Perhaps if I allow them to see more of who I am, they will realise that I'm not a threat."
"Are you sure about this, son?" Jonathan asked.
"I'm sure," Clark repeated. "I can't let people die when I can stop them getting hurt. I can't let people use violence to hurt others when I have the power to prevent it."
"Do you know why the bombs were planted?" Jonathan asked gravely.
"No," Clark said. "And at this stage, I'm leaving the investigation to the police."
His mother's hand clutched the blue spandex on his arm. "At this stage?" she asked.
Clark could see the doubts in his mother's eyes. "Perhaps I could help them find whoever did this," he said. "I haven't decided what to do exactly, but it occurred to me that Superman could do more than just the occasional rescue."
"Clark," Jonathan said. "Clark ... the more Superman does, the greater the risk that someone will try to harm him. Or try to expose him."
Clark smiled gently at his dad. "That might be true, Dad," he said. "But I have been given these powers, and they can be used for good."
"You're not thinking of revealing the secret, are you?" Martha said in a hushed tone.
"Not to the public," Clark said.
Her eyes sought his. "But you are thinking of telling someone?"
"I haven't made any decisions yet," Clark said. "But I was with Lois when I heard about the bombs. I had to leave her - again - and I was utterly unprepared, so I gave her a bumbling excuse that means she probably thinks I'm totally untrustworthy and more than a little weird. I would rather she know the truth than she think I can't be trusted."
"Are you sure about telling her?" Jonathan asked. "Are you sure *you* can trust *her*?"
"I hope so," Clark said. He smiled at his parents, hoping to ease their fears.
His dad still looked worried. His mom, Clark noticed, looked less worried. In fact, there was the hint of a smile on her face. She squeezed his arm.
"Lois, huh?" she said with a knowing look.
"I'm in love," Clark stated simply.
His parents' faces moved in tandem from initial shock to happy smiles. "You're in love?" Martha said, joy and surprise jostling in her tone.
Clark just smiled. Their reaction didn't surprise him at all. Never before had he been so forthcoming with information about the admittedly small number of women in his life. But Lois was different. "Lois is beautiful," he said. "And determined and strong and passionate about what she believes in and loyal and gutsy and friendly and down-to-earth and ... did I mention beautiful?"
His parents' laughter rang around the barn. "I believe you did mention beautiful," his dad said.
"Twice," his mom chirped. "Last time you were here, you said she was in a relationship; I guess you got that sorted out."
Clark felt his smile drain away. "I don't know the whole story," he admitted. "But Lois has said she *isn't* with Scardino."
"Have you asked her how she feels?" Martha said. "About you?"
Clark began to think he had been somewhat premature in his announcement. But he'd felt almost euphoric after Metropolis - bringing safety to the city, conferring with Henderson, facing Mayson. It had felt so good that it had been easy to quell his usual caution. "Not yet," Clark said. "But for the first time in my life, I know exactly how I feel about a woman, and I know I want to be with her every day for the rest of my life." He smiled at both of them. "And that just feels so good."
"Have you asked her for a date?" Jonathan asked.
"I was going to," Clark said, sobering. "But I got interrupted by the newsflash about the bomb. And that's another reason why I have to tell her the truth. If I'm going to date her, she has to know the real reason why I might have to run out on her."
"Have you thought longer term?" Martha asked. "About what happens when the three months in Australia is over?"
"I don't know what will happen," Clark said. "But I do know that I can't make any decisions until I know if there is any chance that Lois wants me in her life."
He saw his mom telegraph a significant look to his dad. "Clark," she said. "We're really happy for you, but Mayson is not someone to be taken lightly. You said she doesn't stop until she gets what she wants. And Jason Trask seemed frighteningly fanatical."
Clark sighed. "I know, Mom," he said. "And I appreciate your concern, but I'm half a world away, and somehow, being with Lois just makes everything seem so much more ... simple. When I'm with her, the world, Mayson, Trask - they just don't matter that much."
His mom hugged him. "Are you going to change your clothes and come and have breakfast with us?" she asked. "Or are you going back to that girl of yours in Australia?"
"It's late there now," Clark said. "And Lois isn't my girl. Not yet."
The gleam in his mother's eyes deepened. "As soon as you've told her that you can fly her around the world in a matter of minutes, I want you to bring her home to meet us," she said.
Clark smiled, imagining landing at the farm with Lois in his arms ... Imagining his parents hurrying forward, eager to meet her. He stepped away from his parents and spun into jeans and a shirt. Then he put an arm across each of their shoulders and together, they walked back to the farm house. "I will," Clark promised. "As soon as I can, I'll bring Lois to meet you."
||_||
Glossary
My old man, the old man - my father.
