A/N: Just finished writing this tonight -- several things happened that meant no writing time these last two weeks, unfortunately -- so I apologize for any typos you might find. I'll come back and edit later; just wanted to post on a somewhat-weekly basis. smile Thanks for reading, and I'd love to hear what you think of it and if everything makes sense!

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Chapter 2: Known And Unknown
***

Ruby--or Red, but she didn’t want to be Red, not anymore--felt harried and exhausted, but it was nothing like as bad as what David was feeling, she knew, so she tried not to show it. Instead, she kept her stance erect and her head up, and she nodded steadily as David rattled off commands, striding quickly into the Sheriff’s station.

“Make sure everyone knows these strangers aren’t to know anything about our world and magic and--well, you know, *anything*. Oh, and keep Leroy away from Granny’s altogether, all right? You never know what he’ll say and he might just decide to come right out and confront them directly. I don’t know how soon I can get them out of here, but the sooner Billy and Tillman can get their car fixed, the safer we’ll be. Tillman!” David stopped mid-step, rubbing a hand over his face. “Right, better make sure Hansel and Gretel don’t hang around their dad too much--Hansel’s liable to spill the beans faster than--”

“Don’t worry,” Ruby interjected with a calming smile. “I’ll see to it. Nicolas and Ava are in school right now, so there’s no danger of them blurting out the truth about who they are to the strangers for a while.” She put her hands on David’s shoulders and gave him a short shake, wishing Snow were there. David was always so much steadier, more grounded, when he had her to focus on. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll get them out of here as soon as possible and no one will be the wiser. Okay?”

David let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping under her touch. “Okay.” He offered a rueful smile when she dropped her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m just…Snow was always the one who was good at this.”

“Not the only one,” Ruby assured him. She chuckled and added, “In fact, sometimes she can be even more impatient than you.”

“Yeah.” Wistfulness, large and enveloping, moved through him, softening his voice, leaving Ruby feeling helpless again. She couldn’t get Snow or Emma back any faster than he could, couldn’t help the dwarves mine for the fairy dust that might get Jefferson’s hat working long enough to open a portal for them to rescue her friends from their old world--couldn’t do anything except try to help her Prince as much as she could. Granny told her there were things that couldn’t be fixed, hurts that couldn’t be mended no matter how much one wished otherwise, and Red knew that above all, which was one of her major reasons for wanting to start over new as Ruby. But still, she wished there was something she could do to take away the shadows from under David’s eyes.

Before she could come up with anything, though, she heard Gold’s car pull up outside the station. It was disconcerting, having her preternaturally sharp senses returned to her since the breaking of the curse, but at the moment, she was glad for it.

“They’re here,” she warned David.

He nodded, took a deep breath, ghosted his hand over the badge he’d started wearing clipped to his belt, and then turned to face the door.

“Don’t worry,” Ruby repeated, because it was easier to comfort him than to face the fear nibbling away at the edges of her own awareness. “They’ll be out of here before we know it, and we can go back to finding Snow and Emma.”

David smiled at her, and for one instant, he didn’t look burdened and bereft. “Thanks, Ruby.”

“No problem.”

Ruby turned, her wolf-like hearing registering the tapping of Mr. Gold’s cane echoing in the hallway, followed by the Belle’s steps, so closely matched to Gold’s that they almost seemed one. And two unfamiliar sets of footsteps, one light and sharp and quick, purposeful, the other…heavy. Far heavier than Ruby remembered hearing ever before. Heavy and sedate, calm, as if nothing could stand in their way.

Letting out a breath, Ruby tried to shake off the strange feeling. Footsteps were just that--the sound of feet moving. She’d never been able to glean deadly secrets from them before, and she doubted that was going to change now.

“Here we are,” Mr. Gold said, stepping from the hall into the office. “Mr. Kent, Ms. Lane, this is”--an amused sneer twisted thin lips in a man’s face that Ruby couldn’t help but stare at, startled yet again by the lack of scales and reptilian pupils and maniacal glee--“*Sheriff* David Nolan.”

Almost not even noticing the smile Belle sent her way, Ruby stared with narrowed eyes at these two strangers, a man and a woman standing next to each other as easily as Snow and Charming did or Ella and Thomas or any of the other True Love couples. The woman was small and slender, her movements humming with energy and determination, and she carried with her the scent of lavender and ink. The man was tall, broad, with a smile that reeked of innocence and friendliness, thick glasses obscuring his features and dulling the gleam of dark eyes. But his scent…it was unlike anything Ruby had ever encountered before. It was…otherworldly--not otherworldly like the Enchanted Forest, but…different. It smelled of sky and wind and rain, a little hint of lavender and ink rubbed off from the woman he hovered next to so protectively, and something more indefinable, something just outside of reach.

A shiver, deep and wracking, forced its way down her spine. Something elemental, almost primal, moved through her, demanded that she cringe and cower away from the alienness of the scent. It wasn’t often that the wolf instincts commanded her while she was still human, and the force of it shook her to her core. Ruby wrapped her arms around herself, tried very, very hard to fade into the background, hoped the paleness of her skin would be explained by the brightness of her crimson lipstick.

“Clark Kent,” the man said, smiling congenially, reaching out to shake hands with David--and Ruby had to bite her tongue until it bled to keep herself from yanking Snow’s Prince away from the stranger. “This is Lois Lane.”

“Glad to meet you,” David said. He was a terrible liar, and the strain of the words showed through, but aside from an exchanged glance, this Lois and Clark didn’t betray any uneasiness. “I sent Billy out to tow your car into Tillman’s garage. We’ll do our best to get you on your way as quickly as possible. In the meantime, there’s a bed and breakfast I can direct you to. There’s a diner attached, too; you can get a bite to eat.”

“On that note,” Mr. Gold interjected, shifting his weight in preparation of leaving. Ruby had never been able to categorize his scent either, but his was a familiar unfamiliarity, the scent of magic and power and lightning, a scent with the weight of centuries and dark curses behind it. It was an interesting blend, with Belle’s roses and paper and sunshine weaving through that humming, itching magic as if, despite how contrasting they were, they’d been made to mix together. Interesting, but still familiar. Not like this new, overpowering scent the strangers brought with them.

“Right.” David gave Mr. Gold--Rumplestiltskin, Ruby knew, but she couldn’t think of that name without her stomach clenching in cold terror; it was easier, better, simpler to think of him as only the powerful pawnbroker who owned all of Storybrooke and vied with the mayor for power--an intense stare. “Thanks for dropping them off.”

“I hope we didn’t keep you too long from your trip,” Lois said. Her smile was bright, but it was false, too, eyes dark and sharp and suspicious.

“We were just headed to a picnic,” Belle stated, her own smile smaller but more real than anyone else’s. “But lunch can wait.”

Mr. Gold’s expression was inscrutable. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Kent. Ms. Lane.”

Belle smiled at Ruby again, blue eyes warm and open and far too innocent to belong to a woman who chose voluntarily to remain at the dreaded Rumplestiltskin’s side. Ruby tried to smile back, tried to summon up something to give her friend, but there was nothing inside except cold, dark terror. Clark Kent’s scent was edgier, jagged, more pronounced the longer they stayed in this room, the smell of it filling up the confined space until Ruby felt a howl building up inside her throat.

“Ruby,” David turned to her as soon as Gold and Belle were out of sight, and he was going to ask her to take the two strangers to her and Granny’s bed and breakfast, she knew he was, but she *couldn’t*. She had to get out, get away, far away, before the alien scent overpowered her and the howl inside got out and she was revealed as a freak, a threat, a killer. Just like before. Just like when she’d been hunted and terrorized and hated and feared--and that had been in a world where magic was known and accepted and used. This…this was a world where magic was feared and hated and dissected.

“I’ll go talk to Leroy,” she blurted before David could ask her. Before she disappointed him by telling him no. “And Tillman--find out how long it’ll be before the car’s fixed.”

“All right,” he said slowly, frowning at her. They’d known each other for years, thrown together because of Snow--they’d met searching for her then, too, and the irony wasn’t lost on her--and he knew her too well to be fooled by her own arms hugging her stomach to hold herself together and bright lipstick and a blurted task. But he was a good friend, too, so he only smiled at her and said, “Call me when you know.”

“Okay,” she said. She managed a halfway friendly nod to the strangers, avoiding their eyes, and then she slipped behind them and out into the hallway, and she was running for the door. When it opened, when she emerged into air all but untouched by that strange, new, cloying scent, she found herself gasping, huge heaving breaths that had her almost hyperventilating. She bent over double, hands on her knees, and squeezed her eyes shut.

The scents were so strong, the primal instincts, the feeling of the wolf. So close. So near the surface. They’d almost overpowered her. Almost controlled her. Almost caused her to betray her secret to outsiders.

Wolf’s time.

Ruby swallowed back a whimper and took off at a rapid clip toward Tillman’s garage. She was busy and David was depending on her to make sure Storybrooke was protected, but despite the importance of those tasks, she couldn’t escape her fear.

The curse was broken. Magic was back. Time was moving again, the moon drifting inexorably through its cycles into Wolf’s time.

She was going to turn into a wolf.

And she couldn’t control it.

It was so strong, so raw, so untamed here, and it had been so very long since last she’d felt her bones and being change and transmogrify into that of a beast. If she’d lost the secret to controlling herself in wolf’s form--if she lost herself to the beast’s instincts…someone could die.

Twenty-eight years of living another person’s life, trapped in time, and it hadn’t made the memories of Peter hurt any less. She’d loved him, had thought she’d spend her life with him--and she’d killed him. Ate him. Devoured him.

What if it happened again?

Ruby ran, but she knew she’d never be able to run far enough. No matter how fast she was, no matter what world she lived in, the ghost of Peter, and all the others she’d killed even before she’d discovered she was the wolf--they would all still haunt her.

Forever.

***

Lois didn’t like this town. She thought she probably should have--it was obviously a hotbed of secrets just waiting to be exposed and pretenders just begging to be unmasked, and all of it on a town-wide level that would sell three or four printings at the very least. But despite all that, despite her instincts telling her that every single person she’d met since Clark had whisked her out of their careening car was keeping something hidden, she couldn’t muster up the excitement this kind of massive cover-up deserved.

She just…she didn’t like the place.

The couple who’d driven her and Clark into town were simultaneously helpful and threatening. The sheriff who’d taken them to this diner and set them up with the gray-haired proprietor to get rooms for the night had been simultaneously earnest and deceptive. The little boy who’d run up to the sheriff and hugged him, then stared at Lois and Clark as if they were aliens--and one of them was, wasn’t he?--before the sheriff ushered him ‘back home,’ had been simultaneously innocent and secretive. In fact, everyone in this town was practically bending over backward to help them, but Lois could see the fear in their eyes. Not fear of the secrets their sheriff and female deputy--or whatever she’d been--and ‘Granny’ were concealing.

Fear of Lois and Clark.

Lois was used to being dismissed by arrogant businessmen who didn’t think an article could hurt them. She was used to being respected by her colleagues. She was used to being avoided by spineless people in the newsroom. But she wasn’t, by any means, used to being feared. Not like this. Not like she was a monster who could destroy their lives if she only blinked wrong.

In fact, the only person who’d ever feared her, outside the residents of Storybrooke, was her partner. Even now he was watching her out of the corner of his eyes, breathing calmly, keeping his voice even and measured, careful and wary in his movements. Afraid he was going to lose her. Afraid she wouldn’t love him, wouldn’t stay with him, now that she knew the truth.

He was also, coincidentally, the only one who’d perfected the art of being simultaneously honest and deceptive.

And maybe that was why she didn’t like Storybrooke. She’d wanted a few days to forget the colossal secret that had been staring her right in the face for the past two years without her once even suspecting it. Instead, she got a whole town that did nothing *but* remind her of Clark managing to delude her into thinking he was two different men. Just her luck.

“Everyone in this entire diner is watching us,” she hissed, leaning forward across the table between them. The coffee was better than she’d have expected from a hick diner, but she set it down with a clatter anyway, frustrated and impatient and confused about her own lack of excitement.

“Everyone in this *town* is watching us,” Clark corrected her with a half-shake of his head. He lifted a hand from his own mug of coffee and rubbed at his ear. A few weeks ago, Lois wouldn’t have thought anything of the gesture, but now it sharply reminded her that her mild-mannered partner, sitting across from her and drinking coffee with her as he’d done a million times before, could hear a pin drop from several miles away. “You wouldn’t *believe* the things I’ve been hearing,” he told her. They were speaking quietly, but Lois couldn’t shake the feeling that every move they made was being noted down by the staring people around them.

“It’s like being a fish in a bowl,” she muttered, and then winced at the reminder because she was suddenly sure she’d forgotten--*again*--to ask her landlord to feed her fish. That was finally enough to tip the scales, and she stood, not caring that they’d already ordered their dinner. “Come on,” she said, feeling trapped. “Let’s get out of here.”

Lois couldn’t help jumping a bit when the glaring old woman who'd given them keys to their rooms for the night materialized in front of her, coffee pot in hand, eyes sharp and suspicious. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Clark said quickly. He flashed the smile that screamed boyish charming and guileless innocence, the smile that had fooled her and all of Metropolis for years.

‘Granny’ didn’t even blink. More proof that this town was crazy, Lois thought with annoyance.

“Could we just get the bill?” Clark asked, seemingly oblivious.

Lois folded her arms across her chest, hugging the strap of her satchel against herself--she wouldn’t put it past anyone in this creepy town to steal it from her for some absurd, nefarious reason--and glanced out the glass door. She’d meant it only as a quick look, a way of avoiding the surreptitious stares of everyone inside, but she did an almost comical double-take at what she saw.

A man walking determinedly down the street, jaw clenched, eyes straight ahead.

A one-armed man.

A one-armed man with a bloody bandage over his stump, a ripped shirt, and a hospital cooler over his good shoulder. He looked as if he’d just been attacked, mauled and beaten by a bear--and yet not a single person reacted to the sight of him.

Blinking rapidly and trying to decide if pinching herself would help, Lois looked away, shook her head, and resisted turning to look again. She might have been blind enough to miss that her partner was the world-famous superhero she’d all but idolized, but she knew what she’d seen and looking again wouldn’t change anything.

“Clark,” she said, and reached out a hand to grasp hold of his forearm. Just in case. Just because. Not much scared her, but she was beginning to think this town might just be enough.

“Sorry,” Clark whispered, automatically turning at her touch to slant his body between her and the rest of the diner despite the fact that he hadn’t seen the beaten, bloody man outside. It was such a Clark move, something he’d been doing since they’d first been partnered together two years before, that Lois could almost forget he’d lied to her every day she’d known him.

“Sorry for what?” she asked, careful to sound normal. She might be holding onto him as tightly as she could without forcing her knuckles through her skin, but that didn’t mean she wanted the strangers surrounding them to know she was extremely disconcerted.

Clark shrugged, his free hand casually coming to rest on the small of her back. A comforting gesture. A protective gesture. “Well, it'll still be a few minutes. They insisted on boxing up our orders to go.”

“We’re staying in rooms next door--can’t they just deliver?”

She must have spoken more loudly than she’d thought because the old woman with a death glare offered her a plastic smile and said, “We don’t deliver. Won’t take more than a minute, though.”

“Great,” Lois retorted through her teeth, and promptly turned her back on old ‘Granny.’ The movement left her facing the door again, but at least the one-armed man was long gone. She refused to admit even to herself that she’d been half-afraid he’d be standing at the door staring straight at her, like some kind of monster in an old black and white horror movie.

“See anything strange?” Lois asked under her breath, knowing Clark would be able to hear her. Just because it sometimes surprised her to remember what Clark hid under his suits didn’t mean she couldn’t spot the advantages to being partnered with Superman.

Clark winced and rubbed at his ear, then glanced at her and shook his head. “Heard several interesting things,” he murmured, his breath feathering against her neck, “but I haven’t seen anything worth mentioning yet.”

“Huh.” Lois wanted to say more--she wanted to say *plenty*, starting with the man dripping blood down Main Street--but Granny was watching them and so was everyone else in the place, and seeing as how they were undercover--seeing as how everyone in this town seemed in on the secret--out in the open didn’t seem like the smartest place to compare notes.

“Here you are.”

Clark turned to accept the bag from Granny--and Lois almost screamed. Which was ridiculous, because she tried to refrain from *ever* screaming like some kind of damsel in distress, but…maybe this was the occasion to start.

Outside, walking back the way he’d come, was the one-armed man. His shirt was still torn and stained rust-red, he still wore bloody bandages--but he’d exchanged the hospital cooler for an arm.

A regular, unmarked, unscarred arm.

Two arms, swinging at his sides, one covered in a sleeve, the other hanging bare.

And nobody, not a single, solitary person out of all the people passing him on the street, gave him even a second glance.

“Lois? Are you all right?” Vaguely, Lois became aware of Clark’s smooth, comforting--*real*--voice weaving through her shock. Distantly, she was able to turn her head to him, tighten her grip on his arm, and register the worry in his smoky-brown eyes.

“Yeah,” she said shakily. “Yeah, fine, let’s…just get out of here.”

Clark’s hand on her back propelled her back past tables of people to the door leading from the diner to the connected bed and breakfast, up the dimly lit stairs to the second floor, and finally through a door unlocked by an old-fashioned, engraved key and into her room. Later, she’d note the clean bedding, the homey touches on the desk, hanging from the walls, evident in the curtains over the window that showed a view of uncivilized forest. Later. At the moment, she was only conscious of the door closing between her and Storybrooke, the feel of Clark holding her close and guiding her to sit on the edge of the bed. He knelt before her, rubbing her hands between his, his brow furrowed and upset as he said her name.

“This is ridiculous!” Lois exclaimed, abruptly clear-headed and filled with nervous energy. She jumped to her feet, incidentally pulling her hands free of Clark’s, and began to pace. “I would think I’m losing my mind except for the fact that I’ve been through that before and don’t particularly want to repeat the experience. Did you see that, Clark? Tell me you saw that!”

“Saw what?” he asked, watching her as carefully, as softly, as he always did.

Taking a deep breath, Lois tried to calm herself. She’d never get him to believe her if she didn’t start acting rationally. “You’re not going to believe this, but there was a man. And one minute, he didn’t have an arm--seriously, a bloody stump instead of an arm and he was walking down Main Street like it was completely normal, and that’s weird enough all on its own--but then, a couple minutes later, he *had* an arm. Good as new. And I know you’re not going to believe me, but I swear that--”

“I believe you.”

Lois gaped at Clark, sure she must have misheard his calm statement. “You believe me,” she repeated skeptically. “Okay, mind if I ask why? Because I was hearing myself and *I* don’t even believe me!”

“I believe you,” Clark said, rising to his feet and casting a wary look to the closed door, “because I don’t think anything in this town is normal. I told you I’d been…*hearing*…some strange things? Well, after hearing some of them, I’m about ready to believe anything.”

“What do you mean?” Lois demanded, tilting her head. “What kind of things?”

“Well, for starters, there was a group of men talking about their job--mining.”

“Mining,” Lois interrupted with an impatient shake of her head. “That’s not--”

“For fairy dust,” Clark said, and he kept his voice quiet, but the words were enough to silence Lois. “Fairy dust to give to the fairies so they can open a portal.”

“Fairy dust,” Lois echoed faintly, sinking down into the chair at the desk. “As in Neverland-man-with-a-hook-pixies-fairy dust?”

“Well, actually, they were fairies in Neverland, but yeah.”

Lois scowled at the correction. “Fairies? I was sure it said pixies in the movi--no, you know what. I don’t care. We have more important things to worry about, like a town with men who regrow arms and mine for fairy dust!”

“That’s not all,” Clark said. He took a deep breath, sent another look to the door, and edged closer to Lois, his voice little more than a whisper. “I couldn’t find even a single *normal* conversation within earshot--some people were talking about Midas not having his curse anymore, there was a couple wondering if their baby would start aging now, and an awful lot of people are worried about the town line, a woman named Regina--and us. But they were all talking about trusting ‘Charming.’”

“Charming.” Lois hated repeating everything he said, but there didn’t seem to be much else to say.

“Who is, from what I can gather, the sheriff we met.” Clark shook his head. “So…what do we think? Mass hallucinations? Something in the water? Some kind of cult?”

“Massive role-playing on a scale I don’t even want to think about?” Lois stood to pace, rolling her eyes because it was easier doing that than giving into the shivers that wanted to rage across her body. She *really* didn’t like this town. “That doesn’t explain the Miracle-Gro for arms, though.”

“Keep your voice down,” Clark said with yet *another* glance to the door. Belatedly, she wondered if he was looking *past* it rather than *at* it. “I know we were talking awfully quiet in the diner, but Granny definitely heard us. She’s obviously not as hard of hearing as her name would imply.”

“You think she can hear us all the way from the *diner*?” Lois asked incredulously.

“You think most people can grow an arm back?” he retorted, and Lois let out a scoffing breath for want of a better retort.

“Fine!” she snapped--quietly. “So where should we start? I doubt questioning people is going to get us anywhere, except maybe locked away.”

“They don’t seem to want to hurt us,” Clark said, but he sounded doubtful, and if the ever-optimistic Clark Kent was doubtful, Lois wouldn’t have laid any bets on their safety.

“Great!” she snorted. “I feel so reassured. They’re all hiding something from us, they’re scared to death we’re going to discover whatever their secret is, and they own the town we’re currently stuck in. No problem at all.”

“If we need to, I can get you out,” Clark said, cautiously, tentatively, and Lois couldn’t help but soften at the glimpse of his insecurity. “This town may be scary, but Superman isn’t hampered by town lines.”

Lois offered him a smile, pleased when the line of his shoulders eased. “Good,” she said. “So we have an escape route--but that’s not going to get us a front-page article. Any ideas on how to figure out the secret?”

“There was one thing.” Clark frowned and looked away. “Mr. Gold--”

“Oh, yeah, Mr. Sunshine himself,” Lois interjected.

“When he was on the phone with the sheriff, the sheriff told him to keep us away from the stables. Something about a resurrected fiancé of this Regina they’re all so scared of.”

“The stables.” Lois nodded sharply, welcomed the rush of purpose flooding through her now that she had a goal. “Sounds like a place to start.”

“Lois…”

She turned from the door she’d been reaching for, frowning to see Clark standing in the middle of the room, uncertainty painted across his open face. “What is it?” she asked.

“Lois, they’re…whatever’s going on here, it’s a secret they’re all keeping. Maybe it’s…maybe it’s someone like *me*. Maybe they’re all protecting just one person.”

“With fairy dust?” she asked sarcastically, but regretted it when he winced. “Look, Clark”--abandoning the door, she stepped to his side and laid her hands on his chest--“they’re not you, all right? Your secret was that you save thousands of lives in your spare time, but most people? Most people who keep secrets keep them because they’re bad. Secrets are affairs and money under the table and charitable companies like LexCorp really being the front of a vast criminal organization. People lie for reasons—and those reasons hurt. You’re the exception, Clark, not the rule.”

Clark gave her a half-smile but his heart wasn’t in it. Guilt shadowed him, and Lois hated it. She thought she had adjusted reasonably well to finding out that he had an alter ego, but she hated the guilt, the careful caution he used to talk to her, the wary fear in his eyes every time he snuck sidelong glances of her. She missed the easy relationship they’d had before, the way they could finish each other’s sentences and hug each other and mention past adventures without having to worry about what they were bringing up for the other.

“Lois,” he said, and her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his thumb lightly tracing her cheekbone. “I didn’t lie to hurt you.”

Her eyes snapped open, cold, hard reality crashing back down on her. “I know,” she said, forced the words out. “You did it to protect me.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “And also…because I was scared. Scared you’d hate me.”

“But I don’t,” she told him. “I get it, I understand, and we’ve been through all this before, so why do we have to go through it again?”

He let his hand fall away from her, the loss of touch almost staggering Lois. “I know. I just…I wish…” He took a breath, forced a smile, and met her gaze. “Never mind. You’re right. So, stables?”

“Yeah. But,” she glanced to the window, midnight blue darkening its panes, “we’d better wait till tomorrow. It’s dark outside already and I don’t want to stumble around in the dark in some creepy town I don’t know.”

“Give you the scary back allies of Metropolis any day?” Clark teased, the strain behind the effort showing and endearing him to Lois all the more. Whatever was bothering him was once more locked up tight, and even before she’d known the secret that haunted and ruled his life, she’d known that Clark could hide behind walls better than anyone.

“Absolutely,” she said with a small smile. “How about dinner instead?”

Their food had long since grown cold, but that was no problem for Clark, who simply zapped them with his heat-vision until steam once more rose to warm her hands. They’d booked two rooms, but they hadn’t needed to, because when Lois snuggled into Clark’s side on the bed as they watched some mindless program on TV, neither one of them could bring themselves to move. There was still some ragged tension left between them, but Lois didn’t want to address it, not when doing so meant admitting that she wasn’t angry at Clark for lying.

Better to stay silent than to admit to him that she was really angry with *herself*.

Better to say nothing than to face up to just how stupid she felt after both Lex and Clark AKA Superman had fooled her so easily and completely.

Better, because if anyone was better at hiding behind walls than Clark…it was her.

***