From the previous chapter...
“Lois…” He couldn’t let their dinner end like this. Then he heard the sirens. Automatically he cocked his head, triangulating and distancing. “Oh God, not now…”
“Someone needs you?” Lois asked delicately.
Clark turned back to her, his attention divided. He had to talk with her, he had to. But more sirens joined the original set. A tenement fire near Hobbs Bay – already he heard cries for Superman.
Lois didn’t wait for his confirmation. Clark saw that she had made the connection. When he got that look on his face, Clark Kent was going to run out on her with a feeble excuse. Except now she knew why.
**********************************
The fire was just as bad as he’d feared. When was Metropolis going to crack down on landlords and make them adhere to code? It wasn’t like they were asking the landlords to retrofit with expensive sprinkler systems. No, all they had to do was put in smoke detectors. Smoke detectors, for Pete’s sake. And because the landlord of this particular crowded tenement hadn’t, ten people were dead and another five were seriously burned.
After the fire, soot covered him, and the trailing end of his cape was scorched. Clark headed home, stopping two muggings in Suicide Slum on the way. “A slow night,” he muttered. He averaged six to ten crimes foiled every night in the slum.
He landed in his apartment bedroom and stepped into the living room. Lois lay curled up asleep on the couch, one of his mother’s colorful quilts draped over her. She’d kicked off her shoes and they lay sprawled on the floor.
Pointedly, she hadn’t cleaned up the dinner dishes. She usually did that when he cooked. The pots and pans still sat on the stove, the half-full plates on the tabletop. At dinner they had finished one bottle of wine and gotten into a second bottle; Clark noticed that Lois had finished off that second bottle.
Moose lifted his head from his sleeping spot on the rug next to the couch, but didn’t get up at Clark’s quiet arrival. Mechanical voices emanated from the television in a low hum – Lois had been watching one of Metropolis’s news channels. Right now, it was playing a clip of him at the fire, descending from the roof, carrying several children.
“After rescuing the people trapped on the roof, Superman assisted the Metropolis Fire Department in extinguishing the fire,” the news anchor said. At home, Clark gave an ironic thumbs-up. It had taken him a long time to get the TV people to stop saying, “Superman put out the fire.” He knew that all he did was help. Metropolis’s Bravest did most of the work. The firemen didn’t begrudge him the TV time, but Clark felt strongly that their efforts needed to be recognized. They were the ones putting their lives at risk.
The scene shifted to a clip of Superman being interviewed by one of the TV station’s roving reporters, surrounded by the usual crowd of wide-eyed gawkers.
“Superman, what is the status of the rescuees?” the reporter asked.
“I transported two people to the Metropolis General Burn Unit, Colin, and three to Mercy Hospital. You’ll have to ask the hospitals for further updates.” Clark, watching, noted the subtle straightening of the reporter when Superman called him by name. They appreciated the recognition, and Clark knew it gave the reporter a thrill that Superman knew his or her name. By now, he was acquainted with all the TV reporters in Metropolis. It always amused him that when he was on the scene in his Daily Planet reporter persona, the TV crews didn’t give him a moment’s attention.
“What was the cause of the fire, Superman?”
”The fire marshal will make that determination.” Privately, Clark was sure that it was arson. It angered and saddened him. How could anyone put so many other lives at risk? He loved his adopted homeworld, but sometimes he was sickened by some of the people who lived on it. How could someone not recognize the unique value of a life?
Tiring of watching events he’d already lived through, Clark turned off the television. The room darkened – the TV had been the only source of light. It didn’t matter to Clark.
He looked down at himself ruefully. Soot-covered and smelly, he would have to shower before he touched anything. He suited the action to the thought. After cleaning up, he thought for a moment about clothing. Normally at this time of night, he’d put on some sleep shorts and go to bed. But, in deference to Lois’s presence, he dressed in a dark T-shirt and jeans.
When he returned to the living room, he sat down in a chair near Lois. She hadn’t woken up during his shower. He watched her breathe. In, out, in, out – her breaths were slow and rhythmical. Hypnotic.
He loved her so much. So much of his happiness depended on this small, fiery woman. It frightened him beyond all measure to think that she might not want to be his friend anymore. He forced himself to think about the thoughts he’d been pushing away all evening.
Why hadn’t he told her his secret when the gangsters shot him? Why hadn’t he even thought about doing so? Clark squirmed as he faced the events from Lois’s point of view. Her partner had been shot in front of her. He’d fallen down “dead” in her presence. And, from Lois’s viewpoint, he had been shot and “killed” protecting her. Clark had told the gangster to back off, to stop bothering her. And Clark had been “killed” for it.
If Lois had been shot – Clark forced himself to consider it, although his mind shrank away – he would have been devastated. He could hardly bear to think of her dying. If she died, he knew, he himself wouldn’t want to live anymore.
But he loved her, madly, desperately, ferociously. She didn’t love him. Clark stirred in his seat as an idea percolated up. Perhaps Lois did care about him more than he knew. Lois was good at repressing, at hiding, at disguising what she really felt. He should know that by now. The fact that she was so angry at his revelation – perhaps that really meant that she cared about him. Perhaps she had been as devastated as he would have been if she were the one to have been killed.
Of course, the whole thing had gotten mixed up with her pathologic distrust and hatred of liars. She’d thrown that in his face tonight. Her father had lied to her and her family all the time about his mistresses, about his actions, about where he was and what he was doing.
Her mother, perhaps, wasn’t technically a liar, but she was an alcoholic. Clark had been around enough to know that alcoholics would make promises that they wouldn’t keep, because taking another drink was more important than fulfilling their promise. And Lois had mentioned that her mother had been a drinker all through her childhood. No doubt Lois had become inured to broken promises and to ringing proclamations that proved hollow.
And… Lois hadn’t mentioned him tonight, but Clark was sure that Claude had come to mind. Claude, the Daily Planet reporter, to whom she had given her body and temporarily, her heart. Claude, who had used her and played at romancing her, all in order to steal her prize-winning story. Claude, who had then spread gossip all over the Daily Planet newsroom about what an inferior sex partner Lois Lane was.
In retrospect, Clark realized that Lois’s walls had gone up, and become thicker and higher with each disappointment, each broken promise, each lie. If she kept the world out, the lies lost some of their power.
Then Clark Kent had come along. He’d shown his affection for her. He’d given her time, had let her get to know him slowly. He’d made no romantic gestures, done no overt flirting, put absolutely no pressure on her. And so she’d learned to like him as a friend. Or, perhaps, she felt for him something more than like.
She’d been the one to talk about taking things to the next step. She had dumped Dan Scardino, and told Superman that she wanted him only as a friend. The road was clear for Clark Kent. Even though he was a co-worker, and Lois never dated anyone she worked with after the Claude incident, she’d taken a chance with him.
And then Clark had told her that he had been lying to her from day one. No wonder Lois felt so bitter, so betrayed. No wonder she’d been so venomous.
But… she had come over for dinner at his invitation. She hadn’t just ignored him. She had made the effort. One of Clark’s mother’s sayings came to mind – “The opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s apathy.” Maybe Lois hated him now. But at least she cared. Maybe he still had a chance.
Well, the first thing, Clark decided, was that he wouldn’t tell her any lies anymore. No lies. Truth only. He would be honest. He wouldn’t run out on her with some lame excuse. He would keep all his promises.
And, speaking of that, he had promised to drive her home. Clark would like nothing better than to have Lois spend the night in his apartment, and to make her breakfast in the morning. But she might not be as enamored with that idea as he was. Clark sighed and resigned himself to waking Lois.
But… on second thought, did he have to wake her? Did he have to drive her? Could he take her home another way? He stepped forward, and ever-so-gently lifted her up. Martha’s quilt slipped off and Clark left it on the couch. He held her close, feeling her heart beat, enjoying the unique scent of her skin.
She moved a little in his grasp, and Clark stayed absolutely still. Lois squirmed, just a bit. Her head was pillowed against his chest and she murmured, “Clark.” She made a few grumbling noises and then settled back to sleep.
His heart almost burst with the fullness of his feeling. He didn’t bother to change into the Suit, counting on his dark clothing for concealment. Gently, quietly, he rose in the air and flew out through his skylight.
Clark was afraid that the cool night air would wake her, but Lois just snuggled deeper into his grasp. He flew slowly, enjoying the feel of her body against his. Every flight with Lois was permanently etched into his memory. He’d flown with Awake Lois and Unconscious Lois, but never with Asleep Lois. He wouldn’t give up this moment for anything.
It didn’t take long to get to Lois’s apartment. Clark knew the aerial pathways there, from anywhere in Metropolis. He set her down carefully on her bed, and pulled a spare blanket over her. She grumbled again, just a little bit, and then slumbered on.
Fanciful thoughts of the Sleeping Beauty came to Clark’s mind and he thought of giving her a kiss. But did he want her to wake up now? She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. He scribbled a note telling her that he would drive her Jeep back to her apartment early tomorrow morning. Reluctantly, he murmured, “Good-bye”, and left via her window.
When he got back to his own apartment, Clark groaned. He slapped his head rhetorically. When would he ever learn? Moose had been well-behaved while Lois was in the apartment, even when she was asleep. However, when Clark took Lois home and the dog had been left unsupervised, Moose had taken advantage of the opportunity. The dog had cleaned the uneaten food off the dinner plates. He had eaten the remainder of the chicken and rice, and the salad and the vegetables. He’d knocked the pans off the stove onto the floor and licked them clean. And – Clark groaned again – the dog had gotten up onto the kitchen counter, shredded the cardboard box into a hundred tiny pieces, and eaten the replacement order of tiramisu.
Clark clenched his fists and made himself count to ten. Moose stayed well out of his reach. The dog was obviously familiar with being reprimanded for this behavior.
After a minute, Clark collected himself. He sighed and blurred into super-speed. It took only a few seconds to finish cleaning up the kitchen and dining room. He came out of super-speed and Moose whined at him confusedly.
Hah, this time I’m annoying you, Clark thought. The thought crossed his mind – could he keep the dog overnight? Reluctantly, he decided against it. He had to take Moose back to Lois’s. Things seemed fine, but Clark knew that a Superman emergency could come at anytime. And then, Clark would be away from his apartment for an unknown duration.
That was why he didn’t have a pet. He liked animals. Growing up, Clark had had many farm dogs and tons of barn cats, and numerous other pets and livestock. But, because he was Superman, he couldn’t commit to the reliable care that a pet needed. Heck, Clark had had to be away for four days straight when the last big earthquake had hit China a few months ago.
Besides, he knew that Phil and Eleanor’s son was scheduled to meet Lois at her apartment tomorrow and take Moose into custody. And right now, it was Clark’s devout wish that Moose be returned to his proper owners as soon as possible.
He checked his apartment for Moose’s collar and leash. Lois’s shoes, tossed on the floor by the couch, distracted him. And Clark noticed that when he had flown her home, he had forgotten her purse. He took out the Jeep keys and left them out in a prominent place so he wouldn’t forget to take it back tomorrow morning.
Clark gathered up Lois’s shoes and purse and quickly flew back to her apartment. Her sleeping form attracted his attention and he spent a few minutes just watching her. Then he shook himself, saw that Moose’s dog bed was on the floor in Lois’s bedroom, and made sure that all food in Lois’s kitchen had been securely stored away. He dropped off her shoes and purse and went back to his apartment.
Moose greeted him at the window with a happy wagging tail. Unlike Lois, Clark thought cynically, the dog didn’t care which way Clark came home. Door or window, it was all the same to him. Moose wagged his tail whether he greeted Clark Kent or Superman.
“Let’s get you home, Moose,” Clark said. He took out the collar and leash and Moose exploded into a frenzy of jumping. “Oh, you want to go for a walk?” At the word “walk” Moose barked loudly.
Clark could take a hint. He hooked Moose up and took the dog outdoors. It was a beautiful spring night, the full moon illuminating the heavens. It was only a mile or so to Lois’s apartment and it wouldn’t take them that long to get there.
Clark took a small detour through a quiet Centennial Park. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t on the way to Lois’s, but he wanted to exercise the dog. He started a slow jog, and Moose trotted by his side. Despite Moose’s annoying food-stealing behavior, the dog was well-trained to the leash. He didn’t pull and he stayed right next to his walker.
Moose seemed fit, so Clark gradually upped the speed. He ran around the perimeter of Centennial Park. Moose kept up, and Clark ran faster until Moose was galloping flat-out. The dog larruped along with a grin of canine glee. Clark ran him for about five minutes, and then slowed back down to a trot.
Clark let the dog off the leash, and threw sticks for him. “Get it!” Moose focused on the thrown item intently, and then galloped after it. He quickly retrieved each thrown branch, happily returning to Clark’s side and dropping the stick at Clark’s feet. The dog definitely had good retrieving instincts, Clark thought. In fact, Moose seemed to love fetching things even more than running.
When Clark finished throwing sticks, Moose tried to continue the game by running away. But Clark used his super-speed and had the leash re-attached to Moose’s collar before the dog knew it.
They waved at a few other midnight dog-walkers but didn’t stop for conversation. Clark sensed single figures lurking in the shrubbery twice, but they didn’t bother him. Perhaps if he hadn’t had a dog with him, he might have been the victim of a robbery attempt. But nothing happened, so Clark didn’t have to be Superman and arrest anyone.
They came to Lois’s apartment. Clark considered his options, and took Moose around to the back alley. Discreetly, he gathered the dog in his arms and levitated to Lois’s window. He quietly opened the window and floated in. He knew he had made some unavoidable noises when entering, and he waited for Lois to challenge him.
Nothing. Her breathing stayed steady. The running and fetching had worn down the dog’s rambunctious edge. Moose ambled to his dog bed and settled down. The dog fell asleep almost immediately. Clark checked on Lois one last time and exited.
He chewed on an idea – maybe Lois hadn’t woken up because, even though she heard the noises in her sleep, the noises didn’t alarm her. Because she knew it was Superman making the noises. (After all, who else would come through her fifth-floor window?) And because, underneath, she still trusted Superman.
Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. He should stop ascribing feelings and behaviors to Lois, Clark thought. She always confounded him anyway.
Whatever. He had a plan. He was going to be honest and truthful with her. He would return her Jeep tomorrow morning, and bring breakfast to her apartment. They would share breakfast, he would tell her that from now on he would be honest and truthful 100%, and everything would be hunky-dory.
“Yeah, right,” he muttered, and flew through the night.
***********************
Light flared through the windows of his apartment when Clark returned from Lois’s place. What was this? Clark scanned, and then entered through the window.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” He went over and hugged his parents.
“Hello, Clark,” his father said. Gesturing at the Suit, Jonathan added, “Out on a run, eh?”
“Yes,” Clark said, for brevity’s sake. Their presence was out of the ordinary. “What are you doing here? Um, I mean you’re always welcome, of course, but I didn’t expect you.”
“Clark!” his mother chided him after she hugged him. “I told you a month ago. We have tickets first thing Monday morning to the Paul McKenzie exhibition at the Metropolis Museum of Modern Art. You said we could stay with you.”
“Uh… a month ago?”
“Your mother said you got called away on an emergency during the middle of the phone call,” Jonathan added helpfully.
His father’s reminder did the trick. Clark remembered it now. He had extended his hospitality as a matter of course – and he had gotten called away, because of the New Zealand tsunami. By the time he’d gotten back to Metropolis two days later, his parents’ plans and his invitation had slipped his mind.
No doubt if he had made his regular weekly phone call to his parents yesterday, his mother would have reminded him. But he hadn’t called, being preoccupied with other matters.
“Of course. I’m happy to see you both. Just let me get things settled…” Clark spun out of the Suit, rushed into his bedroom, changed the sheets on the bed and tidied the room, and then made sure the rest of the apartment was up to his mother’s strict standards. He deposited his parents’ suitcases in his bedroom. “All ready for you.”
“Thanks, Clark,” his father said. He yawned.
“I thought you planned on being here a little earlier,” Clark said, as more memories about his mother’s phone call floated to the top of his brain.
“We did,” Martha Kent said. “Bad weather – our plane got diverted to Chicago, and then we missed our connection, and we had to go to Atlanta, and we missed another connection, and before you know it, it’s after midnight and we’re still not in Metropolis!”
“I’m getting tired of airports,” Jonathan confessed.
Clark could understand that. Who wouldn’t want to avoid the long lines, intrusive security screening, and cookie-cutter terminals? Especially when all that led only to one shutting oneself up in a pressurized metal tube that had a thousand things that might go wrong? Of course, things usually didn’t go wrong, but Clark had helped enough aircraft in distress to be worried about his parents flying on a plane. He had nothing to worry about on his own behalf, of course. He was lucky. He could fly under his own power.
“I”ll be happy to take you back home when you’re ready, Dad, Mom,” he said. “No waiting. No missed connections.”
His father sighed. Clark knew that his parents hated to “take advantage” of his abilities. The fact that it was no trouble to him, and that he wanted to do things for them whenever possible, did not change their attitude. Clark was surprised when Jonathan said, “We might take you up on that, son.”
His mother yawned.
“Can I get you a drink? Anything?” Clark asked.
His parents looked at each other. “Clark, the only thing we want right now is to go to bed,” Martha said. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not. I was just about to get to bed myself.” And he was. He had not slept at all the previous night. And today had been exhausting – not physically, Clark was rarely physically exhausted, but emotionally.
His mother kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, honey.” She disappeared into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
Jonathan sat at the kitchen table. “Rough night, son?”
Clark cocked an eyebrow.
“You look tired.”
“A big fire,” Clark said shortly.
“Ah.” Jonathan nodded his head. Clark had unburdened himself to his father many times. He tried to hold back the worst parts, but Jonathan had been a soldier and had seen combat. His father knew that dealing with death and destruction every day took its toll.
Clark thought about telling his father more. I just told Lois about myself, he would say. His father would ask, How did it go? And he would have to reply, Not so good.
Clark opened his mouth to start. How had his father courted his mother? Maybe he could give Clark some hints. Then Jonathan yawned, and Clark saw his father’s exhaustion. He shut his mouth. They could talk tomorrow.
“Jonathan? The bathroom’s free,” his mother called.
Clark stood up and his father followed suit. Jonathan grasped his son’s arm, held him close for a long moment. His father’s touch heartened Clark. He felt Jonathan’s unspoken support.
“Good night, son.” His father padded off.
“Good night, Dad.” Clark sat back down at the table and stared into space for a few minutes. His father joined his mother in the bedroom, and the bedroom light flicked off.
Clark took a quick shower and then headed back to the couch. He always slept there when his parents visited. It didn’t matter if it was a little cramped for his size – he usually ended up floating anyway.
He fell asleep thinking of Lois.
*****************
Clark awoke the next morning with a thump. He smiled – he had been floating. He’d slept quite a long time for him, and, unusually, hadn’t heard any calls for Superman in his sleep. The gray half-light peering around the window shades told him that, as usual, he’d woken up just before dawn. He focused his hearing. His parents still slept soundly, although they’d be up soon. Even with their late night, their farm habits would ensure an early-morning awakening.
After some quiet ablutions, he checked his refrigerator. Examination of the contents made Clark frown. He really needed to get some groceries. There was nothing for his parents’ morning meal. Plus he needed something to take over to Lois if he was going to make breakfast for her too.
Quickly, Clark spun into the Suit and headed a few miles away to the twenty-four-hour supermarket. He usually shopped at the corner market three blocks away, but it wasn’t open this early. Not many people crowded the aisles, and it didn’t take long for Clark to stock up. He paid and briskly walked out the door, heading for the back alley where he could turn back into Superman and fly away.
His head lifted. Urgency coursed through him. He never knew if he heard the call with his ears or with his mind. Lois needed him now. Clark arrowed through the air, leaving the alley so quickly that he didn’t even take time to change into the Suit.
