We sat for a long time in the living room, just idly talking as we both tried to decompress, sitting on the sofa by the fire next to each other, but not touching. I kept wanting to reach out to him physically, perhaps to reassure myself that we were okay. But it didn’t seem appropriate, so I just asked him all the burning questions I had wondered about Superman but had been too intimidated to ask before. Realizing that my hero was also my best friend opened up possibilities that I had never thought I´d have the chance to discover.
“So you actually do get tired? And hungry?”
“Sure. Just… not as tired and not as hungry, I guess… But Lois… I still don’t know if I´ll get my powers back,” he said, massaging his shoulder where he`d been injured.
“How’s the bullet wound?” I asked, remembering the deep distress I had felt fearing he was dead.
“It´s healing,” he said, showing me where he had put on a new bandage. “Rachel had a medical kit, and I fixed it up a bit. It´s sore, but it´s getting better. But you know, that—meteor rock… I´ve never encountered anything like it. And actually, right now, I kind of just want to enjoy feeling normal.”
“How ironic, huh? The moment I learn that you are so much more than normal is the time when you actually are just a regular guy.”
He sighed moodily, and I wondered if I had said something wrong. “Lois, all I´ve ever wanted…" he shook his head in seeming frustration. "Never mind.”
“What is it, Clark?” I asked, wanting desperately for him to open up to me. I had a burning desire to understand the hero I had been infatuated with and how he reconciled with what I knew of my best friend. I knew they were an amalgam of the two, and yet I still couldn’t see the picture clearly.
He stood up to add more wood to the fire, and therefore wasn’t facing me as he continued speaking.
“I guess I always hoped that you´d see something special about the ordinary guy side of myself. I can´t help feel that now you know—“ he sighed again, using the poker to move the logs.
“What? Tell me. What is it, Clark?”
“Well, just that—you like me more now. And I just don’t want it to be because of my powers…”
I understood his insecurity. I had chastised myself enough over basically the same fear. But we were friends. And I wanted him to know that I put that first. “Well Clark, you are an ordinary guy. At least for the time being, right?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
He glanced at me, skeptical.
“Clark, this is confusing for me, too. I mean, my hero is also my best friend. And I just have to sort of… figure out where we both stand. I—I don’t want to lose you. Not because I´ve been so blind and stupid, you know? I mean, it´s not like we are dating or something. It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
“But Lois, it is. You see, only those who are closest to me know my secret. And that secret won´t go away. It will always be there. Which is exactly why I didn’t want to burden you with it. We´re sort of stuck with each other because of it. If we ever went our separate ways… I know it sounds selfish, but I´d worry about you telling someone. And I´d worry about you knowing. People could use you to get to me… and that—really terrifies me.”
“Clark, my lips are sealed, I promise. And no matter what bad guy tries to pry the secret from me, I won´t tell. You shouldn’t worry, really,“ I said as confidently as I could, unable to fathom the scenarios that were probably going through his head.
He shook his head, once more staring down at the fire. “I will worry, Lois. If anyone tried to hurt you—“
“Clark, look, no one will know I know,” I said, doing my best to reassure him. I just didn’t know what he needed to hear. He still looked pensive. Did he just not trust me?
“It´s more complicated than that, Lois,” he said glumly.
“Why? It doesn’t have to be. So I know your secret, big deal. No one else will know.”
“Lois… forget it, okay? It´s been a long day for both of us. Let´s just get some sleep.”
I didn’t understand his abrupt change of subject. He was acting so strange, almost as if he were afraid of me. Or maybe just afraid of what I knew. I didn’t want it to be a burden for him, though I had no idea how to reassure him. Did he not trust our friendship?
“Shall we camp out here on the sofa again, then?” I suggested, my heart suddenly racing a bit at the thought. I couldn’t shake my infatuation with Superman so easily, despite my brave words, and I was intrigued by the idea of sleeping next to him again.
“Yeah, sure. I´m just going to run upstairs to change. Here´s a flashlight. You can use the downstairs bathroom.”
“Thanks, Clark,” I said, taking the flashlight, and feeling reminded once again of how I had taken him for granted so often.
As I brushed my teeth in the light of the flashlight, I made a resolution to myself. Clark obviously felt responsible for my knowledge of his secret, and he worried if I could handle that burden. I felt a little insulted that he thought I couldn’t handle it, but at the same time, I could see why he felt so vulnerable. He didn’t know my deepest darkest secrets. And I wondered, if I did tell him, would that help bolster his trust in me?
Sometime later, we got cozy on the sofa again. This time, Clark did take off his glasses, with a twisted smile at me as he did so. “These were my only disguise, Lois. I wanted you to see the man underneath… underneath the glasses and the suit,” he said with a sigh, turning on his side.
I didn’t know how to take that. Could that mean he cared for me more than just as a friend? I worried I was flattering myself by reading too much into that statement, but if it were true, well, that would explain a lot. It would explain why he felt so burdened that I knew his secret. I could destroy him with one article in the paper, and what did he have over me?
My infatuation with Superman?
I released my own sigh, realizing suddenly that maybe I wanted a deeper relationship with him than that. And if he had secretly longed for a relationship with me… perhaps there was a way to move forward from here.
I lay there, listening to the crackle of the fire, thinking. Eventually, I started talking, searching for a way to reach him, to make him understand that I trusted him and I wanted his trust in return. “I had a huge fight with my dad my senior year and I moved out on my own before I was eighteen,” I said at last, breaking the still silence of the room.
“You never told me that.”
“And I sometimes sit at home alone in a schlumpy robe and eat chocolate ice cream while watching cheesy soaps.”
“Lois, why are you telling me this?”
“I guess… I don’t know. I´ve learned a huge secret about you and I guess I want you to know that you can trust me with it. I guess I´m trying to give you blackmail material to make you feel better.”
“It´s okay, Lois. I do trust you.”
“Do you?” I asked, the surprise evident in my voice. “Then why didn’t you tell me before?”
“It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you, Lois. It was because I had wanted to keep you safe.”
“Oh…” I said dumbly, thinking over what he said. “But am I really any less safe now? I mean, no one else knows that I know. Only Trask knew, and he´s dead. I think there´s more to it, Clark, and I wish you´d tell me.”
I heard a sigh from the other end of the sofa as he adjusted his position once more. “Just… let it go for now, will you, Lois?”
I couldn’t help but feel I was missing something, though Clark seemed loath to talk about it. I sighed and turned over on my side. “Sure, Clark… Goodnight, then.”
“Goodnight, Lois.”
~L&C~
The next morning I woke up feeling very chilly. The fire had gone out, and Clark wasn´t lying on the sofa across from me.
“Clark?” I called out to the empty room. I felt a thrill of fear after recent events, wondering if there weren’t more of Trask´s men in the area. What if Clark had run into them and he still didn´t have his powers? What if—
“Clark?” I called out again, more fearful.
I gathered the blanket around my shoulders and made my way into the kitchen. He wasn´t there, but I saw him chopping wood outside the kitchen window and let out a breath of relief. He was all right. And he hadn’t abandoned me.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I had worried about that as well. I couldn’t help but feel that I made him nervous now that I knew his secret. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had disappeared for a few hours to clear his head…
I caught a glimpse of my own head in the hall mirror, and though I admit I usually don’t look terrible in the morning, today I felt pretty rough. There were circles under my eyes, and my hair needed a good combing. I didn’t want Clark to come in and see me like this, even if he may have caught a glimpse of me while I was sleeping. That would have been through no fault of my own. Awake and aware of this mess, however, would be entirely unforgiveable.
I made my way upstairs to take a shower. I went to Clark´s closet to pull out my suitcase, when I spotted an old box buried in the back of it. Although I knew Clark´s secret, I still felt like I was learning who he really was, and for some reason this non-descript, ordinary box intrigued me. My curiosity got the better of me, so I tugged the box out of the closet, wondering what else I might learn about him from its contents.
I desperately wanted to understand him. How did an extraordinary farm boy decide to become the world´s hero and not want a thing in return? Clark was the most selfless person I knew, in both his personas. And yet, what had made him don the suit in the first place?
The box was labeled with his name, and I supposed it carried old keepsakes and whatnot from his childhood. I felt a second´s hesitation, fearing I was prying more than I should, but then dove in anyway, too curious not to.
As I had suspected, there were high school yearbooks, trophies, pictures of friends… and something at the bottom of the box… I dug through until I could pull it free. It was a telescope. I wondered if he was still interested in astronomy. Did it start when he learned where he was from? Or had he been drawn to it before he knew the truth about himself? When had his parents explained his origins? What did I really know of his origins anyway? I just knew he came from a planet called Krypton. But how he got here or when exactly, I didn’t know. Yet I recalled seeing pictures of Clark as a young boy downstairs on the mantle. So he must have come here as a baby… such an extraordinary story.
I felt my reporter´s blood kicking in, and I did my level best to tamper it down. I wanted to know more because I wanted to understand Clark, not to exploit him.
The telescope was a well-worm brassy color, and it felt cool to the touch. It looked like it had been well-loved, once upon a time. I hadn’t really thought of a Christmas present for Clark, but I wondered if he´d mind if I cleaned up his telescope for him. Would he think it was too personal? That I had invaded his personal belongings? Or would he see it for what I wanted it to be – a gesture to show him that I care and that I wanted to understand him?
I heard Clark enter the house, and I quickly put the box and the telescope back where I had found them.
“Uh, I´m going to take a shower, okay Clark?” I called down the stairs.
“Sure. I´ll have breakfast ready when you finish.”
I smiled, remembering seeing Clark in his mom’s apron the other day.
“Okay, sounds good.”
~L&C~
I came trundling down the stairs a while later to the comforting smells of bacon, eggs, and coffee. I had a smile on my face, as I had decided that I would indeed fix up Clark’s old telescope, and I couldn’t wait for him to open it tomorrow morning. I knew I was getting ahead of myself – as I still wasn´t sure where I´d find polish on the farm without asking Clark or whether I could get away for a sufficient amount of time to do a good job on it – but the idea of doing a little something for him made me happy.
“Well, for being tied up and nearly shot at yesterday, you´re in a good mood this morning,” Clark said, using a camp stove to cook up breakfast.
“We survived. And, we have a story to send to Perry,” I added, then blanched, as I realized what Clark must think I meant.
“I thought you weren´t going to tell Perry anything,” he said slowly.
“No, you misunderstand me, Clark,” I said, rushing to correct myself. “We can still write up a story. Perry’s going to expect something for the Planet on the um, pesticides.”
Clark sighed, expertly finishing the scrambled eggs with some red pepper garnish. “What do you propose we say?”
“Well, Trask is dead. I think that´s newsworthy. And we can just say that… Trask was delusional. That he thought somehow he had found a rock capable of hurting Superman. Something like that.”
“I don´t know…” Clark hedged, clearly uncertain.
“Look, I’ll write it up, and I’ll let you edit my copy however you like,” I suggested magnanimously with a big smile.
“Really?” he asked, seeming to warm to the idea. “However I like? I do like the sound of that.”
“Careful. Don’t want you getting cocky,” I teased. “But seriously Clark, we’re here on the Planet’s dime, and Trask’s is an interesting story. We’ll be very careful about not linking you to Superman, promise.”
He nodded. “I know. You’re right.”
Suddenly, the house hummed to life. “Electricity is back on!” I cried happily. “At least we won’t have to write our story by candlelight.”
“It’s practically a Christmas miracle! Smallville Electric and Power has never been this efficient before!”
I glanced outside at the snow and back at Clark, a flutter of nervous excitement at the thought of spending Christmas alone with him. Alone with Superman, even without his powers, was still a bit for me to take in.
Snowbound in Smallville was turning out to be not so bad after all.
~L&C~
“Lois,” Clark said, looking out the back window in the kitchen. “What exactly did you do with the uh, green meteor rock?”
I was relishing the fact that we had electricity again and was perched beside the heater in the living room, working on my laptop. “What’d you say, Clark? Let me just finish this sentence…”
He came into the living room, and leaned lazily against the doorframe, a small smile on his face.
“What?” I said, reaching up to check my hair. Was he laughing at me?
“Nothing. It’s – just obvious that you are in work mode. How’s the story coming?”
“Almost finished… But Clark, I wonder what we should call the green meteor rock. It’s sort of a mouthful as it is…”
“Well, the world knows Superman comes from Krypton… and it is pieces of my home planet—“
“How about kryptonium?” I proffered, not sure if the word suited.
“It is a meteorite, so technically kryptonite would be more appropriate,” he gently suggested.
“Hmm… sounds better too, I suppose,” I admitted, editing in ‘kryptonite’ into the article.
“’And, in the end, Jason Trask's obsession caused him to search for a mystical rock he alone imbued with destructive powers, and to confuse one reporter with the target of his fixation, Superman. He came to see this strange visitor from another planet where he was not, and to see enemies where there were none. It was an obsession that for Jason Trask would prove fatal.’” Clark read over my shoulder. “You’re quite a writer, Lois.”
I smiled at the compliment. “Thanks… you, too,” I added, in my effort to compliment my partner more. “And you’re sure you don’t want to share the byline?”
“No, it’s better this way. I’ll just tell Perry that I’m too close to it, being in Smallville and all.”
I read through the article one last time and poised my finger over the send button as Clark read over my shoulder. “Anything else you want to add? Last chance.”
“Looks good. Go ahead and send it.”
I pushed the button and closed the lid on my laptop with a satisfied sigh. “Well, now we have no more work to do until after Christmas.”
“I’m sorry you can’t be at home with your folks, Lois. And if Superman were on line, I’d take you back—“
“Clark, I wouldn’t be spending Christmas with my folks anyway,” I hastily reassured him, before I realized I’d have to explain why.
“You would have spent Christmas alone?” he asked incredulously, and I winced a little at his tone. It felt like an accusation.
“My parents got divorced a long time ago, and the holidays are just… awkward for us. I usually try to work through them,” I admitted sheepishly, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear nervously.
“Lois, when was the last time you spent Christmas with someone?” Clark asked in that warm, low voice that spoke to a part deep and vulnerable within me. I felt tears clog my throat and tried to avoid looking in his eyes. Superman’s eyes, I reminded myself. He had enough compassion for the whole world, and when it was trained on me, I melted.
“Look, I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Let’s just do a simple Christmas. Maybe your folks will be back in time… The tree’s decorated… and I—“ I hesitated, about to tell him that I had a present I wanted to get ready for him. “Well, how do you feel about teaching me how to bake?”
“You, baking? This I gotta see,” he teased.
“Okay, I admit I haven’t a clue how to bake, but if you do… it might be fun,” I said, tapping him in the shoulder with a light fist. It suddenly reminded me of his bullet wound, and my smile fell.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your shoulder. That—bullet wound. How is it doing?”
He unbuttoned his top three buttons and showed me his shoulder. I caught a glimpse of the smooth plane of his chest, and tried to be clinical about it as I inspected where he had been shot. It was practically healed!
“Wait, does that mean your powers are coming back?”
“Yeah, but slowly,” he said ruefully, as he shrugged back into his shirt. “I chopped some wood in the sun earlier and it felt like… I don’t know. The sun seemed to make me feel better.”
I studied him closely. “Do you think… the sun heals you somehow?”
He shook his head, buttoning his shirt back up. “I don’t know. But, I feel better. And my heat vision almost started the fire this morning… so, at least I know they’ll come back.”
“Good. Because the world needs Superman…” and so do I, I finished silently.
“Oh, but Lois – you still didn’t tell me what you did with the green –the kryptonite. I need to know where it is so I can get rid of it.”
“I sort of buried it in the snow,” I said, knowing that wasn’t a specific enough answer. “We’ll have to wait for it to melt to know exactly where, I guess.”
“Or until my powers come back. Do you know about where?”
“Just behind the barn, I think. What are you going to do with it?”
“I don’t know. Throw it into the sun… bury it in the sea,” he said with some relish. “Something. I just have to make sure it never gets into the wrong hands again.”
I stared into my coffee mug, thinking. Superman had always been this godlike hero to me. I never could have imagined that he was my partner who fetched me coffee and tagged along on stakeouts. I never could have imagined there was something out there that could hurt him, either. It made me feel suddenly protective over him, and I worried about how Perry would read my story. Would he or our readers see between the lines to the truth? That there was something out there that could hurt Superman – and my dear friend?
“Clark, how do you do it? How do you manage the balance between Clark and Superman?” I asked suddenly. “I always imagined that Superman had a life, I guess… I just never thought it might involve… chasing after stories with me,” I admitted shyly. “Or how dangerous that balance is… I mean, if someone like Trask ever learned who you really are—“
He nodded, and I didn’t have to finish. “That’s exactly my fear, Lois. And why I didn’t tell you,” he said with a heavy sigh.
“Well, it’s not like you can erase the knowledge from my brain… but I guess what I want to say is, I’m happy to carry the burden, Clark. And I promise to do all I can to protect it.”
His hand reached out towards mine, and he gave me a smile. “I appreciate that, Lois. But I don’t want to be a burden to you. It’s the last thing I want… I don’t know. There are times where I’ve thought of leaving Metropolis, and trying again somewhere else. But being Superman, working at the Planet, working with—you,” he said, the last word sounding like an admission of something more. “I would miss those things. I always knew that a possible consequence of us working closely together would be that you would figure out my secret. I know you are an amazing investigative reporter, and I always feared, well, that you would learn the truth. What I hadn’t counted on--” he paused, running his fingers through his hair nervously.
“Was us becoming friends?” I suggested, but I knew that wasn’t quite right. I had sensed from both Clark and Superman on more than one occasion that he was attracted to me, just like I was to him. But was it more than that?
“Friends,” he echoed the word, sounding unsure whether he liked it or not. “Yes, of course, friends… For a while, though, I wasn’t sure you even liked me.”
“I admit I was – infatuated with Superman. And I’m deeply sorry for how I ignored you as Clark… even before I knew your secret, I knew I was—distancing myself, I guess.”
He looked at me with curiosity. “Distancing?”
Now it was my turn to run my fingers through my hair nervously. I guess we had that in common. “Yeah…” I sat up straighter, determined to try to work this out with him. “I guess what I mean is, as a reporter, I assume everyone has an angle. And it bothered me that you never did. You were just – nice. And I—well, I guess it made me nervous.”
He chuckled. “How can someone being nice make you nervous, Lois?”
“Not just someone. You. A—gorgeous farm boy with impeccable manners, who was considerate to everybody… I just couldn’t believe someone like that existed without an ulterior motive.”
He smiled shyly in my direction, the truth slamming me in the chest again that my friend was Superman.
“So… now what do you think of me?” he asked, his face open and guileless.
I sighed. “I’m not sure…”
He dipped his head, and seemed to pull away from me. “Is it—because of the alien thing?” he choked out.
He looked so hurt and vulnerable, that I reached out and touched his arm. “Clark, how can you say that? You have to know… I never treated Superman differently because he was an alien, did I? And the fact that I know you are him, or he is you—“ I shook my head. “I guess what I am trying to say, is it doesn’t matter to me. I just want to understand you. The real you.”
He glanced up at me, his eyes intent on me, as if working up the courage to say something.
“What is it?” I asked softly.
“Nothing,” he said, suddenly moving off the sofa. “So, now that the heat is back on, you want to sleep in my old room?”
I felt as if something had shifted underneath me, though I couldn’t articulate what it was. Clark had closed himself off to me, and I felt hurt because I couldn’t think of what I had said that might have upset him. I had tried to be honest with him and that I wanted to understand him. Was that not what he had wanted to hear? Was he still afraid of the reporter in me?
I stood up awkwardly, feeling embarrassed as I gathered my laptop. “Sure. Thanks for the offer.”
It was only around nine, but I got the distinct feeling I was being dismissed. I tried not to sound hurt as I headed up the stairs. “Goodnight, Clark.”
