They landed in Libreville.
Originally, Clark had intended on flying back to Metropolis under his own power, but with Linda, they would have to take a plane. It was a prospect he dreaded, but he didn’t see any other way around it, not without telling her his deepest secret. They had enough secrets between them, and he simply wasn’t sure he could trust her.
He gently nudged Linda awake.
“We’re here,” he whispered gently.
Her eyes fluttered open. He could see the wear of her crying on her face and it wrenched his heart.
“Linda, do you have any sort of... passport?” he asked, realizing he would need one to buy her ticket.
She mutely shook her head, that vulnerable look was on her face again, as her eyes went wide stirring the protective streak in him.
He sighed. “Can we talk?”
Lois nodded, although she looked uncertain. He offered his hand, and was grateful when she took it and allowed him to help her from the helicopter.
“What were you doing in the Congo?” he asked as they approached the small airport.
She stared at him, “I—I can’t say.”
“You can’t or you *won’t*?” he asked, still trying to be gentle, but needing some answers. He sighed again, “Can you at least tell me how long you were there?”
“Two years,” she whispered so low, he almost needed his super-hearing to hear it.
That stopped him. <<Two years was how long Lois Lane had been gone...>>
“Where are you from?” he tried.
She shifted her eyes away from him, and settled them on some passengers from another small puddle jumper who were walking towards them.
“You’re scared to tell me,” he said.
She nodded. “It—it’s too dangerous.”
Clark guided her away from the airport and, to the fields beyond. They walked silently until it was patently clear that they were alone.
“Can you tell me now?” he coaxed gently.
She looked at him a long moment, judging him. Judging his trustworthiness, he suspected.
“Why were *you* in the Congo?” she asked suddenly, turning the tables on him. Clark recognized it as a trick he used sometimes when he was hunting down a story.
“Fair enough,” he said. “I was looking for a reporter who had gone missing.”
Her mouth dropped open, but she shut it quickly. “A reporter?” she asked weakly.
Clark ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated at his lack of success in finding even a trace of Lois Lane. “Yeah, actually, I was going to ask you,” he said, pulling out the wrinkly and worn newspaper clipping of a smiling brunette. “Her name’s---“
*~*~*~*
"Lois Lane,” she finished, feeling tears threaten once again. It had been over a year since she had even said that name...
She reached her fingers out tentatively to the picture he held. That woman seemed like a completely different person... happy and confident.
“How did you know?” he asked.
“Because... I’m her,” she admitted, her voice suddenly failing her.
“I’m Lois Lane.”
She looked up at him after her confession, her heart thumping in fearful anticipation of his response. Part of her wanted to run away, afraid of what she had become. And part of her---wanted desperately to reclaim who she had been.
“Why... why did you come looking for me... now?” she asked, barely able to believe that she mattered to anyone in the world anymore. She believed her family and friends had assumed she was dead. And she... well, she had lived in her own personal hell so that they wouldn’t be killed.
“Perry White,” Clark said simply.
Lois smiled at the name, and it was as if the sun had peeked through a cloud after a long rainstorm.
“Perry,” she said with affection. “He... he didn’t give up on me?” she asked, self-consciously playing with her long red hair.
Clark shook his head. “No, he hired me as a reporter a year ago, and I kept hearing stories about the famous Lois Lane. Perry got wind that the gunrunners were still active in the Congo, and he had some extra expense money lying around...”
“...So he sent you here on a hope that... you’d find me?”
He nodded, his eyes alight with the knowledge that he *had* found her.
“Perry’s going to be overjoyed to see you—“ he began. "He'll be planning a huge homecoming in the Planet newsroom ..." His words died away as the fear was suddenly back in Lois’ eyes, the clouds covering that glimpse of sun.
“I can’t---you can’t tell Perry. Not yet, anyway,” she said, pleading for his understanding.
“Why?” he asked.
She avoided his eyes, her arms crossed akimbo in a defensive pose, deciding how she could answer him.
“Just... can you give me a little time?” she asked, thinking of her family. She needed to somehow get home and find out if they were still safe. Then she needed to form a plan for how she could continue to protect them without them knowing she was alive. If she told them she was back, they would force her to go to the authorities, and she just didn’t trust them to protect her from the ubiquitous Boss.
Clark ran his fingers through his hair, thinking. “See, if I could call Perry, I know he could arrange to get you on a plane without a passport... But as it is...”
“I know... it’s complicated... But Clark, all the same, thank you for getting me out of there.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, and before she could stop herself, she tossed herself into his arms.
She breathed the warm comfort of him, his leather jacket mingling with the clean male scent that was Clark; it enveloped her, made her feel welcome. In his arms, she could push the demons away. She could forget that she had been forced to kill, that she had almost killed him.
Here, there was sanctuary.
Lois pulled away from his embrace and let herself drown a moment in his chocolate eyes. They seemed to be magnetic, drawing her into their gentle force field moment by moment. She wanted to kiss him, and she thought, he wanted it too.
Yet, uncertainty held them both at bay. They were on a new path now; they weren’t merely strangers who had had a one night stand anymore. The rules had shifted somehow, and they knew that whatever had happened between them was lost to that moment. They would have to find their way together, slower this time.
Lois stepped out of the embrace first. She blushed, not even certain as to why, except that feeling so exposed and yet so protected by this man simply scared her.
“Um... maybe... is there a restroom around here?” she asked, hating herself for asking about something so mundane as needing the bathroom.
“Uh, yeah, in the airport. Let’s go. While you make use of the facilities, I’ll see what I can do about getting an American home without a passport.”
*~*~*~*
Clark was on the phone with the American Embassy, but he was getting nowhere. They said they couldn’t help him if he couldn’t provide a name for the supposed American woman that needed permission to fly back to the US. He was on hold, waiting to speak to someone higher up, when he heard Lois cry out from the women’s restroom across the lobby.
It wasn’t very loud, but he had unconsciously attuned his super-hearing to her. He quickly hung up the phone and headed swiftly across to the door of the restroom. He lowered his glasses, seeing through the wall that Lois was struggling with a man who had a gun. Clark was about to rush in when he saw her work her way out of the hold with some very practiced moves. The man was stronger than she was though, and in his next move, easily knocked her down on to the floor. She hit her head on the porcelain sink on the way down, and was frighteningly still when she landed.
She was obviously knocked out, and Clark hoped that would mean the man with the gun would just leave, but instead, he aimed his pistol at her. Helpless, unconscious on the ground, the man was going to shoot her!
Clark moved faster than any human could into the bathroom, swiping the gun from the man. He used his own tie to restrain the man in a stall so Clark wouldn’t be seen when he slowed down to normal speed to help Lois.
“What the hell?” said the man from behind the stall door. He kicked the door in an effort to weaken its hold on the hinges, leaving Clark precious little time to get Lois to safety.
The man had fear in his voice as he spoke, unsure of what was going on. But he evidently felt it necessary to decry that he had lost. “She’s a marked woman. It’s only a matter of time before the Boss takes care of her,” he said with another swift kick at the door, loosening the hinges a bit more.
Clark knelt down beside Lois and quickly x-rayed her body. She seemed fine, with no broken bones, so he gently lifted her head, supporting her neck as he tried to find where she had hit the sink.
He found an ugly bump at her temple, as he gently felt the spot with his thumb. He used a little bit of his freeze breath on the spot to help with some of the bruising. She’d be knocked out for a while at least, though he didn’t think any permanent damage had been done. At least he hoped not.
Clark suddenly had an idea. It was a little risky... if she woke up while they were flying, he’d have some difficult questions to answer.
But she might be out for just enough time to get her back to Metropolis without her knowing a thing.
He decided it was a chance he was willing to take. The Embassy wasn’t going to be any help, and he really had no desire to fly commercial anyway.
Clark gently scooped her up into his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder. As he got her out of there, her beautiful, soft form cradled in his arms, he wondered what had pushed Lois Lane, Perry’s prized reporter to wield guns and keep what he assumed were dangerous secrets. From how Perry had praised her, he felt more confident about his initial instincts about her; she was vulnerable and definitely in danger. She had learned to take care of herself, yet he now had a strong desire to do that for her, to save her from believing she was the monster she thought she had become.
He carried her out of the airport, glad there were only a few people around to wonder why he was carrying a sleeping woman.
He thought of calling what passed for the police about the thug in the restroom, but he figured the goon would free himself soon enough, and he didn’t want his name linked with Lois’, so it would be harder for ‘the Boss’ to find her again.
Clark made his way to the small field where they had been talking before. He looked around one last time to see if they had been noticed.
“Lois, let’s get you home,” he whispered, taking off to the skies. “Then maybe you can tell me what really happened to you back there in the Congo.”
*~*~*~*
Lois slept the entire flight back to Metropolis, cradled in Clark’s arms. During the flight he applied a little more of his freeze breath to her bruise and x-rayed her again to make sure she was all right. He cradled her closely, so he could fly faster but not too fast. He knew that sometimes his clothes would tear if he flew too fast, and he worried that Lois could be hurt if he went at full speed. He needed her to stay asleep for the trip regardless of how fast he flew, yet he also worried that she was still out of it for the better part of the hour it took to get back to Metropolis.
He needn’t have worried though, as like a child who wakes up when the car stops moving after a long trip, Lois slowly came to when they got to his apartment. Clark laid her gently on his bed as she fitfully began to wake up.
“What... where am I?” she asked, looking around in surprise to find herself in apparently Clark’s comfy apartment.
“You have been out of it for a while,” Clark said gently. “How do you feel?”
“My head hurts, but otherwise okay,” she said, sitting up.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, searching for something to say. He had a million questions, and had been left to mull many of them over on the flight back from Africa. But he knew he had to take his time asking them.
“Something hot... not coffee though---“ she said, though seemingly uncertain.
“Tea?” he asked, heading to his kitchen.
"Yeah, thanks," she said. She rose slowly, wincing. She walked around the apartment in a daze, as if she had been dropped onto a foreign planet. Her eyes took in everything ... and then came to rest on him.
“Tea’s ready,” said Clark, sitting down on his sofa.
She sat next to him, taking the hot cup from him. “I haven’t had tea... in a long time,” she said. “Usually I’m a coffee girl. But, tea seemed to make more sense, somehow.”
They sat in companionable silence for a bit, though Lois kept looking around, seemingly puzzled.
“When did we get here?” she asked. “How did I manage to sleep the entire flight?”
“Uh, well, you slipped in the ladies room, and I had managed to pull some strings to get us on a plane. I think you were just plain exhausted, Lois.”
She seemed to accept his response and continued sipping her tea until Clark cleared his throat to speak again.
“Lois, now that we’re back in Metropolis... can you tell me more about what happened back there?” he asked.
Her face seemed to close to a blank. Clark wasn't sure if she would speak. They sat there for a long moment, the silence only broken by the gentle clinking of cups meeting saucers.
Then she started talking, very low, looking into her teacup. “I want to tell you everything, Clark. I—I’m just scared. There are people here in Metropolis who can still get to me—I don’t want to put you in danger by associating with me.” She finished with a catch in her throat, and looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I don’t remember how you got me here, and I don’t really care. I just---I want to put it all behind me, but I can’t. They’ll still come after me.”
“Lois, you can trust me. I—I can protect you,” he said.
She looked at him askance, “How, Clark? You can’t be there every minute, and besides, I—I would hate myself if anything happened to you,” she said earnestly, and he thought back to the moment she had aimed a gun at him. Again, the contradiction stirred questions.
He sighed, “But what else will you do, Lois, if you don’t let me help you?”
She stared at her cup of tea, thinking.
“Can you tell me anything? I need to know what to look out for, *who* to look out for, if you even know.”
“The Boss,” she said absently, then looked up, realizing what she had given away.
Clark remembered the man in the bathroom had mentioned this ‘Boss’ character. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know,” she said nervously. “I just know... that he’s here in Metropolis. It’s how I s—started on the story in the first place,” she stumbled, nervous to talk about it at all. Clark reached for her free hand, and urged her to look at him. “Lois, look. I know this is hard for you. I’m here to listen to you-- for you to tell me as much as you’re comfortable with.”
She sighed shakily. “Look, I’ve done some horrible things. They *made* me do some horrible things. I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me Clark, really I do. Maybe it would be better if I just leave. Pretend you don’t know me, pretend—“
He suddenly stopped her with a kiss, their teacups clinking as they struggled to set them on the table while reaching for each other. He didn’t know what made him kiss her, but she just seemed so trapped by her own fears and half-truths, that maybe if he could at least get her to acknowledge *this* between them, maybe he could get her to open up about other things as well.
She leaned into his kiss, surrendering briefly to him, and then moments later, pulled away. “I can’t rely on that, Clark,” she said sadly, indicating their attraction to each other. “Just because we shared one night of—wonderful passion, doesn’t mean you owe me anything or that you can even help me.”
He squeezed her hand gently, trying to convey his willingness to help her, no matter how crazy it seemed. “Will you let me try?”
“H-how?” she asked.
He suddenly smiled, “Why don’t we get married?“ he said through a laugh, echoing his thoughtless yet totally genuine proposal after their first night together “—I mean, *pretend* to get married. Just until you can figure out who this Boss is and we can figure out how to deal with him.”
She looked at him a moment, a wry smile on her face, “You are a strange man, Clark. You asked me to marry you after sleeping with me, and now that you know who I am, you are willing to pretend marry me to protect me... why?” she asked blankly.
He shrugged, “I don’t know. Call me altruistic,” he said lightly. “But, what else would you do? Do you have anywhere else to go? Anywhere to live?” He shook his head, seeing that she didn’t have any ready answer. “Lois, look, I don’t know a lot about you, that is true. But you don’t know a lot about me either.”
“You? Ha, I think you are an open book,” she said with a grin, ignoring his questions.
“Oh, really?” he said with a knowing smile.
“I’m pretty sure I learned all of your secrets the night we made love,” she said, her voice sultry and low.
“You think so?” he asked, enjoying knowing that she hadn’t a clue that he had flown her under his own power across the Atlantic this afternoon
She nodded, a little more confident. “All right, let’s do it,” she suddenly said. “I’ll be Linda again for a while then... and you and I will be---“
“Mr. and Mrs. Kent.” He finished for her. “Welcome home.”
