part 3
***Metropolis
He struggled with himself for what felt like ages. Lois was getting back into bed, and he needed to join her. But then what? A part of him wanted to zip straight to Smallville, wake his mom up and ask her…ask her what? How he could make Lois feel safe? Despite the measures they had taken together on her return, it was so clear he was failing her in a fundamental way. She was scared. She was beyond scared. After tonight, after their talk and their lovemaking, he had assumed that things were…reaching normal. After what he had just seen, though, Clark realized how far away normal really was.
He landed with a soft thump in the bedroom. He knew she wasn’t really asleep, just pretending to be. “I’m home, honey,” he whispered, moving to the bathroom to shower and change.
Clark lingered under the hot spray trying to get his brain to work. He’d found the marker easily. And the thick layers of tape on it, which indicated this was not a one time thing. How long had she been doing this? Was this new to Metropolis, or had she been marking herself in Smallville? He had slept next to her nightly and never noticed, so he didn’t think she had been. So was it being back here? Was it on nights that Superman left, or was it nightly, and then she just soaped it off in the morning? The water ran cold and still he made no move to get out. He needed an opening. A plan. A something. This couldn’t be ignored, but she would hate that he had seen. Hate him for seeing into the depths of her fear.
Seize the day, Kent, he reminded himself. Don’t let the time get away from you. Don’t leave this undone. She needs you; good, bad, or ugly.
He spun himself dry and into his sleep shorts. He wouldn’t rehearse this, he decided. He’d just act. Taking the pen, he taped it carefully back into place.
Clark walked towards his side of the bed with a pounding heart. Lois turned to meet him, offering him a sleepy kiss. He kissed her back, long and lovingly, and then raised her shirt up slowly, tracing the words with his fingers.
“Tell me about this, honey,” he whispered. “I want to understand.”
At his first touch she had melted against him. But when he had lifted her shirt, she had gone rigid, pulling at the hem, her skin flushing scarlet. At his question, though, the fight had left her body. Lois rolled away from him, facing the wall. And for a time he thought she wasn’t going to answer.
“I’m not crazy,” she finally pronounced in a low voice that dared him to contradict her.
“No. You’re being…careful,” he answered her. He lowered her shirt, and pulled the covers up around her, moving in to hold her.
“Don’t humor me, Clark,” she said tightly. “I know what it looks like.”
“What is it, then, Lois?” He worked to keep his tone completely neutral, just barely curious. Anything else and he knew she would bolt or simply close down.
“Insurance. Just in case. Last time I was alone, nothing to identify me. I was admitted to a hospital for a few days. I was lucky. This time I’m pregnant. I have to think about the baby, about what I would do. I can’t…marry every Clark Kent in the galaxy.”
“Are you that sure he’s coming back?”
“Yes,” she answered simply.
“Didn’t Wells tell you that he would be dealt with, honey? That there were peacekeepers assigned specifically to tracking him down?”
“He’ll come back, Clark,” she asserted.
“What can I do, Lois? Tell me. I want to help. Should we take you to see someone? Don’t look that way.” She had turned anguished eyes to meet his. “I’m thinking of someone who can help with post-traumatic stress. Someone you could level with.”
“And exactly who would that be? Do you know someone, a specialist, maybe? Someone well-versed in traumas of parallel universe travel? There is…no…one…I can level with.”
“Me, Lois. There’s me.”
He waited for an answer to that. Or just a sign that she’d heard him. Nothing.
“Can I take you back to my parent’s house?” He tried again. “You weren’t doing this in Smallville, were you? Superman can take some time off.”
“I want us to stay here,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “And I want… a gun.”
“A gun,” he repeated flatly.
“Yes, a gun. I want the means to protect myself.”
“Lois, you’re an expert at protecting yourself-” he started.
“That didn’t help me last time. In fact, it worked against me. I was too confident when I approached him. Clark, the open door was right behind me. I could have run! He flashed up that window, and I basically jumped through… I want a gun. I want to be able to…kill him.”
“You know how I feel about guns, honey.”
“I know how the guy who is bulletproof feels about guns, yes. And once upon a time I felt the same way too. But now, in this case…I don’t anymore.”
“Could you really use it, Lois?”
“In a heartbeat,” she answered quickly. Standing from the bed she gathered her robe and the quilt from the chair. “If you can’t handle that, that’s your problem. I intend to be ready, Clark. If I could figure out a way to keep cash on my person at all times, believe me I would do it. Or a credit card, driver’s license. Something to help me get started in whatever world he drops me. I’ve even thought about a money belt…” She stopped all at once.
“And…why not a money belt?” he asked, arrested by the look on her face.
“You…might feel it…think I’m…crazy.”
“Lois-” He reached for her, but she moved away.
“What if he doesn’t take me back to Metropolis? What if I have to start in another country where I don’t speak the language? What would I do then?”
She turned abruptly. “I’m sleeping downstairs.”
“No.” He was between her and the door before she could blink. “I want you next to me. Please, Lois. I should never have gone tonight without waking you. You looked so peaceful, and now with the baby….But I should never have and I won’t anymore. Stay here with me. I’ll hold you. If Tempus comes…”
“You’ll what?” she asked softly in defeat. “Give him a firm lecture? Take him to Henderson and explain who he is? What?”
“What would you have me do, Lois?”
“Kill him.”
“Lois-”
“I know what you’re going to say, Superman, and believe me; I don’t want to hear it. If you don’t want me to sleep downstairs, maybe you should just go back to your room.”
“I thought this was my room now, too. After tonight. Earlier.”
“Not anymore,” she retorted, the spirit back in her voice. “Not if you aren’t going to help me.”
“It doesn’t work that way, you know.” Clark stayed where he was, planted between Lois and the door, hating the trapped look that had come into her eyes. “You don’t invite me in when you feel like it, and then kick me back out when we disagree. We’re together, Lois. We’re having a baby. We’re getting married.”
“I never agreed to marry you.”
That stopped him for a second. He flipped the switch on the wall, bathing the room in bright light. While Clark could see her perfectly in the dark, he knew that to her he was just a shadow in the doorway.
“Say that to my face,” he ordered her plainly. “Look at me and tell me you’re not marrying me. That I’m supposed to live in the guest room according to your mood.”
“I don’t want to fight,” she said.
“We’re fighting, Lois. We’re fighting for us. You want me to agree to kill someone for you. Does that get me a wife? The chance to be a dad? If I say no, am I just your roommate and work partner and occasional lover?”
“I want a gun,” she repeated stubbornly. “And I don’t need your permission. Or your blessing,” she added after a time.
“Stalemate,” he sighed, as they faced off, Lois, holding her robe and the quilt across her chest protectively, he holding his ground by the door. “Come to bed, Lois? Let me hold you?” He reached for her, and this time she came to him immediately. Nothing decided, but that they needed each other.
“Just love me, Clark” she sighed against his chest.
That was something he could do. For both of them.
***
The following day Lois bought the gun. She showed it to him without apology, and he didn’t offer any further argument. It was done. She kept it in a box, in the drawer of her bedside table. On nights when Superman left, she took it out and kept it in easy reach. When Superman returned, it went back into the box. If she was asleep, he put it there himself.
While it bothered him that the gun seemed to give her the reassurance that living with him couldn’t, he didn’t bring it up again. Periodically he checked the marker for signs it had been used. It stayed taped in place. It seemed a shallow victory, but he counted it just the same.
He and Lois went about their lives at the Planet and in Metropolis. No more talk of killing Tempus and no more talk of getting married. They didn’t tell anyone about the baby, not yet. Each repeatedly sought to assure the other that things would be fine. Clark stayed in the bedroom that was now theirs. And for the most part, all was well.
Or as well as could be expected.
***Metropolis2
“Morning,” he greeted her.
“Hmph,” she answered, shuffling past him to the coffee maker.
He held up the pot she was looking for. “Pour you a cup?”
“What do you think?” she yawned.
“I think that you are definitely not a morning person,” he responded easily, pouring her coffee and wrapping her hands around the mug before letting go.
“You’re just now noticing?” she asked, seeming somewhat mollified by the caffeine offering.
“Just now remarking is all.” He came to sit across from her.
Slowly, ever so slowly, her eyes fully opened and focused.
“You’re Superman.” She frowned.
“You’re just now noticing?” he mimicked.
“Funny. Really, really funny. I like a superhero with a sense of humor.” She took a long sip from the mug. “Where to?” she asked after a time.
“Ribbon cutting."
She didn’t reply, just quirked the corners of her mouth into an almost smile.
“I know,” he exhaled. “But it’s for a good cause…”
“It’s your business,” she shrugged.
“It won’t take long. When I get back, since it’s our day off, maybe we could…hang out?”
“As opposed to what we usually do?” She was actually smiling at him now. The coffee had evidently performed its daily miracle.
He’d put it on to brew the instant her deep breathing had changed to a more shallow pattern, signifying for him that she‘d be awake and growling soon. She’d kill him if she knew, no doubt would consider it an intrusion on her privacy, but after just a few of months he thought of it more along the lines of justifiable eavesdropping in self-defense.
“Yeah,” he said, watching her come awake with a warm feeling. “We’ll hang out…intentionally.”
“Intentional hanging-out?” She seemed to consider it. “Does this mean we’re going steady?”
“It’s not nice to get a guy’s hopes up like that,” he grinned.
“Then go cut your ribbon,” she groused. “I’ll be here. Hey…” She stopped him as he walked to the terrace. “How do you cut the ribbon? Heat vision? Do you…blow it apart? What?”
“You want to come and see?” he challenged her.
She looked down at her robe and pajamas, and ran a hand over her hair. Taking measure, he knew, of the slept-on shape of it.
“Um. No, go ahead. A little mystery is good in a relationship.”
“Is that what we have, Lane?” he asked quietly. “A relationship?”
Her mouth worked but nothing came out.
“Too early in the morning?” he offered her a way out.
“I’m not her, Clark,” she said, so faintly into her coffee cup even he almost didn’t hear it. “And I know I look just like her. And maybe I act just like her. But I’m not her. I’m just…me.”
“Oh, Lois,” he breathed, moving back towards her.
“Go cut your ribbon!” She blanched, bolting from her chair.
“Wait!” He froze where he was, putting as much appeal as he dared in his voice.
She slowly sat back down, nervously dabbing at the coffee she’d spilled with the sleeve of her robe.
“You can’t just…start something like that, Lane, and then send me off to…to…. The ribbon can wait!” he finished in frustration. “This can’t.”
“It can. It really can,” she answered with equal energy. “I don’t mind…”
“I know who you are,” he cut her off. “I know exactly who you are, Lois Lane. And who you aren’t. There isn’t any doubt, any confusion, any blurring of the lines on my part.”
“Ok.” She nodded vigorously. “Good to know.”
“No.” He moved again, and again she popped up like a yo-yo on a string. He halted. Held up his hands to stay her, to signal his retreat. “Can we talk about this?” he pleaded. “When I get back? Say that you’ll be here. That we’ll…tackle this.”
“I’ll be here,” she parroted. “We’ll tackle this.”
“Lane,” he eyed her suspiciously. “I mean it.”
“Superman doesn’t lie,” she agreed wearily.
“With the lights out, in the pitch black, blindfolded , I swear to you, I would know the difference. There are differences, Lane, and I knew them in an instant. At some point you’re just going to have to trust me on that.”
“Superman doesn’t lie,” she repeated, this time with a bit less sadness in her voice.
“When I get back, ok?” he asked again, just to be sure.
“Ok,” she said.
“I’m coming over there to kiss you goodbye,” he warned her. “Don’t run. I’m faster.”
“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” she stammered.
“Let’s live dangerously.” He grinned, moving towards her at something just a tad under superspeed.
***Metropolis
“Doing ok?” Clark greeted her as she exited the ladies room for the countless time that morning.
“I’m alive,” she replied. “That’s…progress.”
“Why don’t you go home?” he asked again, knowing full well he sounded like a broken record. “We don’t have anything too big going on and you feel lousy. I could take you?”
“I know we aren’t getting anything done,” she agreed. “I’m on my knees in the bathroom every ten minutes, and you’re hovering by the door.”
“I hover because I care,” he teased gently, pulling her into his arms. “Maybe it’s time we told Perry? Let the cat out of the bag, so to speak.”
“I’m not ready, Clark.” She burrowed her face into his neck, breathing deeply.
“Not ready because you’re not ready,” he replied in a low voice. “Or not ready because you don’t…want this?”
“That’s a loaded question for the middle of the workplace.”
“Sorry.” He squeezed her once before letting her go. “Forget it.”
“No.” Lois looked at him steadily. “You have a right to ask, Clark.”
“I always ask, Lois. I do all of the asking,” he returned with more heat than he intended. “How else would I know anything? You’re like a vault. Everything is locked up so tight.”
“For protection,” she protested a bit loudly, drawing the eyes of some of those around them. Those who weren’t yet used to this particular aspect of the Lane-Kent team. It was common knowledge that since Lois’ return, they’d moved in together. The more time that passed, though, without word of an engagement or an elopement, the more the speculation as to the exact nature of their relationship grew. Tense stand-offs like these, more frequent now than even in their first year as partners, only further fueled the gossip engine.
“Whose protection?” he hissed, pulling her towards the conference room. “Yours or mine, Lois?”
He shut the doors behind them and jerked the blinds closed. If it was going to be a fight, and it looked like it was, he was ready.
He turned in time to see Lois sinking into one of the chairs, all the weariness and strain showing clearly in her face, now that the doors were closed and they were away from prying eyes.
He was pushing her, again, he realized. It was strange how fast his concern for her could change form into something else entirely. Something unkind. Something unlike him.
“Forget it, honey.” Clark apologized, feeling ashamed. The anger left as quickly as it had come. It always did. He moved to sit next to her. “You’re right. This is too big for work, and too much when you feel so bad.”
“Do you want the baby?” she asked, not looking up, concentrating on straightening the very straight lines of her dress.
“Yes,” he responded without hesitation.
“Even though we don’t know,” she persisted, still not looking at him.
“Even though we don’t know,” he replied firmly and a bit testily, he knew. He couldn’t seem to help himself lately. “I love you, Lois. Do me a favor. Get that through your head.”
“I love you, too,” she answered. “I want the baby...our baby.”
Clark hadn’t expected that. He’d expected either silence or shouting. Lately there wasn’t much inbetween for them. Except for at night, under the cover of darkness, under the covers of their bed. Only then were they able to share their true feeling for each other. Clark leaned towards her, turning her face up to his. Their eyes met and held for a long time.
“You know everything is going to be ok, right?” he questioned her gently.
“I’m trying to believe that,” she vowed. “I’ll go home. I’ll take the Jeep. You stay and appease Perry. We’ll tell him…later, ok? I just want a shower and some sleep, that’s all.”
“How about I check on you this afternoon? Around lunch ? If you want something, you’ll call?”
She put her arms around him and leaned against him for a time.
A moment of peace at last. An eye in the storm that always seemed in the offing. Clark let himself relax into her arms. He reminded himself to seize the moment, to savor it. They just needed to find a way to stretch these moments out. To make them less rare.
“Lois,” he whispered into her hair, “I really love you. I really want our baby. I just don’t know how to convince you. I feel so…helpless.”
“Tonight, Clark,” Lois answered timidly. “Maybe we could…talk nursery decorations?”
His smiled. “Let’s do that. Like a…normal family.”
She raised her head and gave him a small smile in return. Only then did he realize how much time had passed since he’d last seen that smile.
“That’s us. Your typical, normal family. In no way interesting.
“Oh, but we’re vastly interesting to ourselves,” he argued, and then: “It’s really going to be ok, Lois.”
For the first time in quite a while, he truly believed it.
***
When she got home from work, Tempus was waiting in the living room. Just like he had been the last time. Different living room, same evil monster. She almost walked right past him. She was hanging her coat and scowling at the bills when the voice of her nightmares spoke.
Only this time it wasn’t a dream. It was all too real.
“Tell me, Lois,” he greeted her cordially, “do you think what they say is true? That those who don’t learn from the past are doomed to repeat it?”
She froze for just a fraction of a second. One infinitesimal moment out of time. And then every system in her body sprang to full alert.
Lois bolted towards the stairs, towards the bedroom, towards the gun that she desperately hoped was still loaded. She couldn’t remember. But maybe just the sight of it would stop him long enough for…
“SUPERMAN!!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs with a desperation she could almost taste.
She made it to their room without any trouble.
<Shut the door, shut the door,> her inner voice coached coolly, well trained over the years by countless encounters with various bad guys.
Only this bad guy was unlike any other. He wasn’t hunting her because of what she’d written, what she was writing, or what she might one day write. He was hunting her solely because of who she was. And he was the one she had known she would face again one day. The one whose return she’d been steeling herself for since the first time.
The one she knew, in a hard, cold corner of her heart, she wouldn’t win against.
Lois slammed the door closed, throwing the lock with maddeningly clumsy fingers.
“SUPERMAN!!!” she yelled again, more ragged and louder still. He should be here by now.
Outside the house she could hear the traffic on the street. For a moment she contemplated jumping from the second story, flagging down a passing car. But the baby…and if she was injured, couldn’t run, then what?
The gun was right where it was supposed to be. Where Clark had left it last night after he’d returned from yet another robbery in Suicide Slum. She checked for bullets. Aimed for the door. And slowly backed into the corner of the room. She’d just wait here, stand her ground. He’d have to break the door down if he wanted her. And she’d take his head off. She would. Self-defense. She tried but failed to keep her muscles from trembling.
“I’ve got a gun,” she called loudly.
“Twentieth Century? American made?” he called conversationally from the other side.
“Come and see,” she snarled.
tbc...
