All Stirred Up

By Meredith Knight <meredith@putwet.demon.co.uk>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: December 2001

Author's Note: It always bothered me that Clark's aura  failed *just* enough to burn off his suit on the way back  from the Nightfall asteroid, so I decided to write the  story of what might have happened if it hadn't.

In my world, the events chronicled in Witness took place  before those of Honeymoon in Metropolis and All Shook Up. I  borrowed the characters from D.C. Comics, Warner Bros.,  etc. I also borrowed scenes and chunks of dialogue from  Bryce Zabel's excellent script for All Shook Up, and  snippets of dialogue from other episodes of Lois and Clark.  No infringement of anyone's copyright is intended. This  story is an original work and copyrighted to me.

My heartfelt thanks go to my loyal and patient beta readers  for their inspiration, encouragement and very helpful  criticism: Diane Trim, Irene Dutch, Kathy Brown, Pam  Jernigan, Wendy Richards and Yvonne Connell. In particular,  to Irene and Yvonne, who sweated all the way through the  gestation of this story: it wouldn't have seen the light of  day without your help!

*****

-Introduction-

As Superman strode through the small throng gathered to  watch his departure, Lois was waiting for him. "How do you  feel?"

<Like throwing up? No, not quite the right message.  Superman has everything under control.> "This will work."

"That's a relief. Why are you so sure?"

"Because it has to."

She smiled. "The power of positive thinking, huh?"

"How are you feeling, Lois?"

"Scared enough for both of us."

He scanned her face. Everyone else he had seen that morning  was terrified by the prospect of the Nightfall Asteroid  hitting the Earth; they had no thought beyond relief at the  news that Superman was proposing to fly several million  miles into space to deal with the threat to themselves,  their homes and loved ones. In Lois's face, for the first  time, he could see concern for the danger to Superman  himself. It helped to calm the sick feeling in his stomach.  He lifted a hand to caress her cheek.

"I'll be back, Lois. We'll go flying."

Her face relaxed a little, and her lips curved at the  comforting thought. "I hope so."

"I have to go."

"Good luck." But even as he turned he felt her hand on his  arm; as he swung back to her, her hands curled about his  neck and she was kissing him. It was all he could do to  remain passive under the storm of emotion that swept over  him. He willed his lips to stay unresponsive, his breathing  to stay calm, and after a few seconds her lips faltered and  she drew back, smiling tremulously at him. He gazed at her  briefly, conscious of the news cameras whirring a few feet  away, and hoping that his expression betrayed none of the  mixture of passion and torment her gesture had aroused in  him. Then he swung away again and walked briskly to where  the EPRAD officials were fidgeting with their equipment  while they waited for him.

The technicians spent a few minutes fitting him with the  radio microphone and oxygen tank, and he listened politely  to General Zeitlin's pompous platitudes, firmly turning  down the offer of the nuclear charges the General was so  anxious to test. Finally, there was no more to do. He  walked to a clear space and turned towards the crowd and  the cameras, his gaze finding Lois once more and drinking  in the sight - the last sight? - of her encouraging face.  Then he lifted skywards, chuckling inwardly a little at the  "ooh" of the crowd, awed as ever at the offhand display of  his superability.

At last he was alone and could stop worrying about whether  Superman's guard might slip.

He flew straight up until the sky darkened, and the stars  began to wink into life. Above the sun, the three points of  the Summer Triangle showed clearly, and he adjusted his  course directly towards the northernmost star. Professor  Daitch had painstakingly gone over the details of his route  with him, relieved to find that Superman had a fair  knowledge of the heavens - although he probably imagined  that knowledge came from Superman's space-faring past,  rather than from long nights spent floating serenely above  Earth's troposphere, gazing spellbound at the wondrous  vista of sky frosted with stars that no earthbound, human  eyes could see.

The earphones crackled into life, and he heard the voice of  the EPRAD Mission Control operator. "EPRAD to Superman,  EPRAD to Superman. Come in, Superman."

Grimacing at the hackneyed phrases, he cleared his throat  and responded, "Superman here."

"Report your progress, please, Superman."

"I'm on course towards Deneb, as planned. I'll be leaving  the atmosphere shortly. I'll let you know if I have any  breathing difficulties; otherwise I will conserve my oxygen  supply. Over and out." He grinned at the confused babble of  consternation that rose from the roomful of self-important  officials and politicians, and thumbed the mike switch to  the off position, mentally tuning out the noise from the  earphones. Superman's reputation for taciturnity certainly  had its uses.

As the air thinned, the wind of his passage diminished and  died, and the profound silence of space took its place.  Superman adjusted the oxygen mask so that he could continue  to breathe comfortably. The sun grew brighter even as the  sky faded to black. All the summer stars were visible now,  the Zodiac constellations - Aquarius, Capricorn,  Sagittarius and the long arch of Scorpio - strung out like  a necklace behind the sun, crossing the gauzy scarf that  was the Milky Way. He rolled over to put the sun behind  him, picking out the Big Dipper and the North Star. Soon a  milky glow near Greenland heralded the rising of the full  moon above the Arctic Circle, and he gasped in delight. He  had walked on the moon itself before, but this he had never  seen.

All too soon, EPRAD Mission Control broke into his reverie  to remind him of his next course correction. He rolled back  to face the sun, checking his direction, and then veered  directly towards it. As the heavens rolled beneath him, he  was presented with a new vista of the southern sky, which  he so seldom saw now that he had settled in Metropolis.  Determined to dwell as little as possible on the reason he  was out here communing with the stars, he let his thoughts  roam over the last few months, and the excitement and  challenges that Metropolis had brought him.

He had always wanted to write for the "greatest newspaper  in the world", as Perry was so fond of calling it. He had  anticipated the thrill of being at the forefront of the  breaking news, as well as the excitement of living in the  vibrant bustle of one of the world's biggest cities. But he  had expected to be able to remain anonymous among the  teeming millions; he hadn't expected to find such good  friends at the Planet - Jimmy, Perry, and above all Lois.

Complicated, domineering, uncompromising, pig-headed,  brilliant Lois.

She had been defensive from the start, although she had  dealt with him in her normal head-on, take-no-prisoners  fashion. "You are not working with me, you are working  *for* me. I call the shots, I ask the questions. You are  low man, I am top banana, and that's the way I like it.  Comprende?" And then, when he had succeeded in challenging  her preconceptions, "Don't fall for me, farmboy. I don't  have time for it." The warning had come way too late. Long  before she had started to let down her barriers, showing  him the vulnerable self that lurked behind her defences and  the deep scars that had forced her to hide that self, he  had already been head-over-heels in love with her.

He felt he was making slow headway against her  determination to keep the world at bay. With the prank he  had pulled on her, sending her to search the sewage works  for Superman's spacecraft, he had quickly established that  he was no spineless pushover; but she was also starting to  realise that, excellent reporter though he was, he posed no  threat to her status as the Daily Planet's top  investigative journalist. The night that he had announced  he was leaving the Planet for good, she had even admitted  that she was starting to like having a partner.

On a personal level too, she was gradually allowing him  closer and closer. He had managed, albeit by the skin of  his teeth, to avoid damning himself forever by yielding to  her pheromone-induced advances. When Barbara Trevino and  her sidekick had threatened Lois's life, she had turned to  Clark for help and comfort. She had even asked him to walk  her home after all the danger was over.

And then, in the few days they had spent together in the  Lexor Hotel's honeymoon suite, they had had time to relax  and have fun together, and get to know each other better.  It had taken all his self-control to avoid taking unfair  advantage of the situation, and when the chambermaid had  threatened to catch them in a compromising position with  the surveillance equipment, he had yielded to the impulse  of the moment and swept Lois into a different kind of  compromising position altogether. Yet instead of being  outraged and retreating behind her defences again, Lois had  accepted it almost without comment - Clark could have sworn  that after her initial astonishment, she was even starting  to respond by the time the maid had left them to their own  devices.

The only fly in the ointment was... his own Spandex-clad  alter ego. Superman had seemed like a brilliant solution to  all Clark's identity problems, allowing him to make full  use of his special abilities while still maintaining a  normal lifestyle. Allowing him to risk having friends who  knew his real name and the whereabouts of his parents;  allowing him to live in one place for months, perhaps even  years, instead of having to move on every time someone  became suspicious about a fortunate coincidence or a burst  of supernatural good luck.

Who would have guessed that the woman of Clark's dreams  would fall as heavily for the mysterious superhero as Clark  himself had done for her? It didn't help that Clark found  it nearly impossible to ignore Lois when he was in the  suit, and that he sometimes yielded to the temptation to  visit her apartment for no particular reason during his  evening patrols. And the only time he had really kissed her  without reservation, putting his true feelings into the  kiss, it had been as Superman. The memory of that kiss  still sent delicious thrills down his spine, making his  toes curl. Of course, he had had the excuse of being under  the supposed influence of the pheromone perfume, and ever  since that day he had retreated behind Superman's  emotionless mask, giving her absolutely no encouragement;  but he could still see the stars in her eyes every time she  looked at Superman. How on earth was an ordinary man like  Clark Kent going to attract her attention against that sort  of competition?

Once again Mission Control disturbed Superman's thoughts,  reminding him of his third, and final, course correction.  He searched the sky "below" him, almost immediately  spotting the Nightfall Asteroid. His previous course had  taken him up and over the asteroid, so that he could smash  into its weakest point from a course almost perpendicular  to its own, maximising the chances that the asteroid debris  would be scattered away from the Earth. He picked out the  Southern Cross constellation, slightly ahead of the  asteroid, and turned to head directly towards it, to his  fateful rendezvous. It was time to stop dwelling on his  private concerns, and start concentrating on the dangerous  task before him - for the whole world's sake, as well as  for his own.

*****

"Several hours ago, Superman said his final goodbyes to the  crowd. He was described as calm but determined. His last  words were, and I'm quoting now, 'I'll do my best.'"

Gathered with her colleagues in front of the big newsroom  television, Lois scowled and muttered under her breath,  "No, they weren't!" The tension was making her stomach  churn, and the hype from the newscaster, intent on milking  the situation for all it was worth, was only making it  worse. She had been spoiling for a fight with somebody all  afternoon, just to blow off steam; but Clark had gone home  with a headache halfway through the morning, and everyone  else had kept well out of her line of fire.

A flicker of worry crossed her face as she thought about  Clark. He was frequently nowhere to be found, but he was  never sick. She hoped it had nothing to do with being  knocked down by that car in front of the Planet yesterday.  Then her attention was drawn back to the newscaster, who  was announcing a live feed.

*****

"I can see it now. In fact, it's difficult to see anything  else. It's immense."

"Roger, Superman. We copy you on the ground. Do you have  stress point acquisition in visual?"

<Do I have what? Don't these guys ever talk English?> "Yes,  I have."

"Stand by for final briefing procedure."

<Excuse me? I'm coming in at maximum speed, as instructed,  and he wants me to stand by?> "I know what I have to do.  Well, here I go."

Superman thrust both his fists ahead of him and tucked his  chin against his chest, bracing himself for the impact.

*****

"Impact in 5, 4, 3 ..." The newsroom collectively held its  breath. The televised display showed the asteroid breaking  up, debris shooting in all directions.

Then EPRAD Mission Control was saying something about  having lost transmission with Superman. Ignoring the wave  of faintness that threatened to overcome her, Lois  protested gamely, "Well, his microphone went out. He's  fine. He has to be!"

*****

- Chapter 1 : Homecoming -

He was dreaming of flying, free as a bird. He felt warm and  comfortable. He smiled and opened his eyes. The dream  persisted, only now he wasn't flying, but floating in  space. It was an odd sort of dream. He studied the  beautiful blue-green planet suspended before him. It didn't  look at all familiar, but that must be where he was meant  to go. But how?

He willed himself towards it, and somewhat to his surprise,  started to move. He tried turning round, and that worked,  too. Now the continent in front of him looked a little more  familiar. But it wasn't the right place to go. The white  area down below didn't look inviting, either - maybe the  area above? He headed that way, and realised it was going  to take some time to get there. He closed his eyes again.

*****

If Lois had been difficult before the news broadcast, she  was impossible afterwards. Most of her colleagues had seen  it coming and made themselves scarce, but when Lois went  downstairs to turn in her story, a temp at the copy desk  made an idle remark about how exciting the day's events had  been. She was white and shaking by the time Lois had  finished with her.

Perry yelled for Lois the moment she got back to the pit,  and told her to take herself home before she landed herself  with a harassment lawsuit. She pleaded to be allowed to  stay in case any news of Superman came in, but Perry would  brook no argument, ordering the long-suffering Myerson to  escort her to her Jeep.

*****

After a long while, he opened his eyes again. He was still  having the same dream, only the planet was much closer now.  He was nearer the top of it - the north, that was it - and  it looked more familiar. Yes, over there on the right,  where lights were beginning to blink into existence. He  picked the clump of lights that seemed right, and headed  straight for it.

Home.

*****

After a day that couldn't have been worse - well, except  for that brief stolen kiss - Perry just had to order her  home early, and now here she was, stuck in a godforsaken  traffic jam.

For a brief moment, Lois considered leaning on the horn and  screaming obscenities, in the hope that someone would  succumb to a fit of road rage and start a fight. Then  sanity reasserted itself, and she leaned back, closed her  eyes and took a deep, ragged breath.

He had to be out there somewhere. Superman could not be  dead.

She opened her eyes and looked towards the sunset. It was  so beautiful, so majestic and serene; above all these petty  troubles. Just like him.

The traffic moved a few car lengths and stopped again.  Lois's eyes returned to the sunset. Her eye was caught by  the evening star, and she wished with all her heart that  Superman would be safe. The star grew brighter and  brighter, and seemed to move across the sky. That couldn't  be right?

Lois sat stunned as the biggest and brightest shooting star  she had ever seen shot across the darkening sky and  vanished behind the buildings to the north, over Hobbs Bay.  Several seconds after it vanished, she heard what might -  or might not - have been a clap of thunder.

With shaking hands, she dragged her mobile phone out of her  handbag and dialled Jimmy's number at the Planet. To her  relief, he answered - he must have returned to his desk  once she'd gone. "Jimmy, it's Lois here... No, I'm not  going to yell at you - I've got a job for you. I just saw a  shooting star like I've never seen before, and I think it  landed somewhere near Hobbs Bay. It has to be something to  do with Superman... Well, yes, I suppose it could just be  debris, but how'd it get here so quickly? Jimmy, I want you  to drop everything and phone around, find out who else saw  it. We should be able to work out where it landed. But  don't mention Superman to anyone - I want to be the first  reporter on the scene. Leave a message for me at home if  you get anything... no, I'm stuck in traffic, would you  believe it? Get right on it, Jimmy, okay?"

She hung up and paused to catch her breath, scanning the  horizon again. Nothing further untoward was happening. Then  she dialled Clark's number. There was no answer, and her  phone started fading; the battery was going. "Typical!" she  grumbled, and threw it back into her bag. But there was a  light in her eyes that hadn't been there five minutes  before.

*****

The dream had ended abruptly, with a roaring wind and fire,  and then a succession of huge crashes. Now everything was  quiet, and he was lying on something. There was something  on top of him, too. It didn't feel like bedclothes.

He opened his eyes again. He seemed to be lying in a hole  in the floor, in - he peered around - what looked like an  abandoned warehouse. There was a whole pile of rubble on  top of his legs. It didn't hurt. Could this be another  dream? No, it didn't feel like one - he felt decidedly  uncomfortable this time.

He sat up, and gingerly tried pulling his legs from under  the masonry. Surprisingly, in spite of its evident weight,  it moved easily and his legs came free. They were filthy,  but there was no apparent damage, even to his pants.

What sort of pants were they, anyway? They looked rather  close-fitting and smooth, almost like tights. He brushed  off some of the dust and peered closer in the dim light -  bright blue tights. What on earth could he be wearing? He  stood up and moved to where a street light cast a beam  through a large hole in the wall, and inspected what he  could see of his clothing. He appeared to be wearing a most  outlandish outfit, in primary colours: blue tights and  leotard, and red briefs worn, bizarrely, outside the  leotard, with a yellow belt. There was a stylised "S" in  red and yellow on his chest, and he had dark red boots.  Tattered remnants of a red cloak hung from his shoulders,  scorched and singed at the lower edges. Singed from the  fire? No, the fire had been in his dream. But perhaps he  was still dreaming after all. Surely no one in his right  mind would wear something like this in real life, unless he  was a circus performer.

A squeaking noise intruded itself on his hearing. He had  been aware of it for some time, slowly getting louder, and  now it seemed to be approaching the building. Then he heard  voices from outside. Not wishing to be observed in this  strange getup until he had worked out what was going on, he  headed swiftly away from the light.

*****

Lois had used practically every back street in Metropolis  to get away from the traffic jam. She had also run several  red lights, and used the full force of her personality to  induce other drivers to let her through. At last she was  home.

She ran up the steps and negotiated her apartment locks in  record time. Inside, she switched the answering machine off  and checked the message light - no messages. She dialled  Jimmy's extension at the Planet, but got an engaged signal.  At least he was following orders.

Ten minutes later, Lois had showered and changed into her  "street clothes": dark trousers, a bulky, nondescript shirt  and tough, flat shoes. She dialled the Planet again, and  this time Jimmy answered.

"Jimmy! At last. What have you got for me?"

"I've managed to track down a few reports. The witnesses  all saw the shooting star over Hobbs Bay, and most of them  think it crashed in Suicide Slum. I'm busy plotting the  sightings on the map, to see if I can work out exactly  where it landed."

"That's great, Jimmy! Call me as soon as you've got a  location. I'll grab a bite to eat, then I'll be ready to  go."

"Uh, Lois? You're not thinking of going to Suicide Slum on  your own, are you? It could be dangerous."

"Don't worry, Jimmy, I'm planning to take Clark with me. He  should have shaken that headache by now. He likes playing  the big, macho bodyguard."

"Okay. I'll phone back in a few minutes."

Lois hung up, and dialled Clark's home number. She listened  to the insistent ringing tone with a faint frown. Clark  wouldn't have been playing hooky, would he? Not today, of  all days! No, he must have unplugged the phone to get some  sleep.

She was starving! She hadn't had a bite to eat all day -  the tension had destroyed her appetite. Now it was back  with a vengeance. She opened the fridge and grabbed a fat- free yoghurt, tucking into it while she sized up the  options for a sandwich. As she decided on pastrami and  cream cheese, the phone rang and she ran to get it.

"I've got a pretty good location, Lois. It's in Suicide  Slum, in the warehouse area. Do you want to write down some  street names?"

"Actually, Jimmy, I have a better idea. I haven't been able  to get hold of Clark; he must be asleep. How do you feel  about doing a little legwork for a change? You could bring  your camera... okay, Jimmy, calm down! I'll take that as a  'yes.'" She laughed. "I'll be outside the Planet in ten  minutes."

Pausing only to dump the empty yoghurt carton and grab a  jacket and a heavy flashlight, Lois was on her way.

*****

The two men - vagrants, by the look of it - had  investigated the hole in the wall and the hole in the  floor, but had found nothing of value to interest them, and  had pushed their squeaky shopping trolley away again. The  man in the Spandex suit relaxed, and tried to work out what  to do next.

He needed to get home and change into normal clothes. Only,  where was home? He didn't have the faintest idea. He could  look up his name in the phone book... only he had no idea  what his name was, either. And how could he get to a phone  book without being spotted, anyway? Fear started to nibble  at the edge of his thoughts. What *was* he going to do?

What if he just stayed here until he remembered who he was,  and where to go? It wasn't much of a plan, but he didn't  see any real option. Besides, now that he thought about it,  he was really tired.

He sat down on the floor, in the corner furthest from the  hole in the wall. He leaned his back against the wall and  closed his eyes. Just before he dozed off, it suddenly  occurred to him that someone would come to help him soon.  It was a comforting thought, calming his fears, and he  smiled as he drifted off to sleep.

*****

"It must be somewhere around here, Lois. We should be able  to see something soon. At least this part of the Slum still  has street lights."

Lois drove slowly down the street, butterflies dancing in  her stomach. All her instincts were telling her that what  she was looking for was close by. A couple of hundred yards  further on, Jimmy let out a whoop. "That's it, Lois! That's  got to be it! See the hole in the warehouse wall?"

She pulled the Jeep to the kerb and jumped out, hoping the  car would still be there - and intact - when they returned.  She followed Jimmy to the hole in the wall. The missing  masonry was scattered on the floor inside the warehouse,  half filling a crater some yards away. As Lois put her hand  on the edge of the hole to steady herself, another brick  crumbled and fell. "It looks like you're right, Jimmy. This  is recent enough. Whatever caused this must be in that hole  in the floor."

She picked her way across the rubble, hoping that the  impact hadn't weakened the warehouse roof. Jimmy was  already busy taking pictures of the scene. Lois stopped at  the edge of the crater and switched on her flashlight,  playing the beam over the hole. "There's nothing in here  except more rubble. Nothing big enough to have caused this  damage." A bubble of excitement was rising in her chest,  and she had to clear her throat. "Jimmy - whatever landed  here has moved. Do - do you think it could be him?"

"It could be. But you know what Perry would say - we need  proof. Are you sure there's nothing in that hole?"

Lois stepped down gingerly into the hole and crouched,  scanning back and forth with the flashlight beam. At first  she could see nothing, but when she brushed away some of  the dust a flash of red caught her eye. There was some  cloth caught among the broken bricks. "Jimmy, give me a  hand here!" Jimmy took some quick shots of the pile of  debris, then crouched down and helped her to shift some of  the pieces of rubble, freeing the strip of red material. It  was tattered and scorched, but... "It's from his cloak. He  made it back!"

The two reporters turned to look out of the warehouse,  through the hole in the wall. There was a billboard  advertising Metro Trains on the other side of the street,  still proudly proclaiming "Faster than a speeding bullet",  but now it had a hole punched through the middle.

Jimmy grinned. "I have to go get some pictures of that,  Lois! I'll be right back."

*****

He could hear voices in his dream. The woman's voice was  familiar, and very dear. He smiled as her face formed in  his mind. Shiny dark hair, dark eyes that could flash fire  or melt your heart, a mouth that could be witheringly  scornful, engagingly witty, or sweetly kissable.

<Lois. The woman of my dreams.>

He frowned slightly. What did that mean? Was she his wife?  His girlfriend? He loved her, but there were also troubled  feelings associated with her - anxiety, possibly even  guilt. If she was his wife, then he must have been  unfaithful. No, that was ludicrous! He could never be  unfaithful to Lois, not in a million years.

"Jimmy, give me a hand here!"

His eyes flew open. That was no dream, she was here. She  had come to help him. He stood up slowly, searching for her  in the gloom. Yes, there she was, crouched in the hole in  the floor. But there was a young man with her - this Jimmy,  presumably - and he was taking photographs. The man without  a name glanced down at his filthy Spandex. He couldn't  afford to be photographed like this!

For that matter, what was Lois going to say when she saw  him dressed like this? Was that what the anxiety and guilt  was about?

He stood indecisively for a few minutes, while the pair in  the crater discussed something they had found in the  rubble. Then they both looked out towards the street, and  the young man scrambled out of the crater and picked his  way back outside. Lois sat down on the edge of the crater  and buried her face in her hands.

It was now or never. He walked slowly towards the crater.  His boot scraped on some of the rubble and Lois looked up,  startled. She looked straight at him, and turned as white  as a sheet. He hesitated; this was obviously going to be  pretty bad. She looked away again, without speaking. He  walked a few paces nearer. "Lois?"

*****

As Jimmy went outside, Lois sank down on the edge of the  crater, covering her face with her hands as tears of relief  pricked at the corners of her eyes. He had made it back.  There was no blood, no body; he had left, presumably under  his own steam. He must be all right. And - she smiled -  what a story it was going to make!

Something moved in the darkness of the warehouse. Lois  looked up, startled. She couldn't see anything. <Probably  only a rat.> The next moment she cursed herself, as her  overactive imagination contemplated being alone in the  darkness with a rat, and for the second time that day she  thought she was going to faint. It was a relief when a  human form took shape in the gloom, and a voice spoke in  familiar tones. "Lois?"

"Clark? How did you..." Belatedly, she remembered her  flashlight, and swung it up. "Superman!"

He looked terrible. From the waist down, he was covered in  dust. More than half his cloak was gone, the edges scorched  and singed. His face was clean enough, but pale, and his  normally smooth hair was rumpled. Most striking of all,  there was no trace of his normal stern, impassive  expression; he looked worried and confused.

"Superman, are you all right? When your mike went out, we  thought - we were afraid you were dead! Are you okay?"

The worry receded, but the confusion deepened. "I - I don't  know."

"What do you mean, you don't know? Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so. I feel all right. But I don't..." His  eyes met hers, and it came out in a rush, "I can't remember  anything."

She leapt to her feet, surprise warring with concern. "We  have to get you to a hospital!"

She scrambled out of the crater and turned towards the  street, drawing a breath to call for Jimmy. In two strides  he was at her side, gripping her arm and whirling her round  to face him. "No! No hospitals! They - they'll dissect me  like a frog!"

She winced at the pressure of his fingers on her arm, and  he dropped it and drew back slightly, his eyes still  pleading with hers. In the light from the street lamps, she  could see panic in his eyes. She rubbed her arm  thoughtfully. "I guess a hospital isn't going to be able to  help you much, anyway. So what are you going to do?"

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry." He looked ruefully at her arm.  "I don't know what to do, Lois. I need to go home and get  out of these..." he glanced down with a grimace, "...  clothes. But I don't know where home is. I thought you  could tell me."

She was silent for a long moment, letting that sink in.  "You mean, you really don't remember anything? Anything at  all? But why do you think I can help you? Do you remember  anything about me?"

<Uh oh, time to make a guess at the nature of this  relationship. She seems to have taken this costume in her  stride, but I notice she didn't rush into my arms.> "I  recognised your voice and your face. I know I..." he  hesitated, and took the safer option, "know you, but I  don't know who you are."

"And you don't seem to know your own strength, either," she  said with a hint of a smile. Evidently his answer had been  acceptable. She pondered for a minute. "Well, first we have  to get you out of here. I think we'd better take you to  Clark's place. He'll know what to do."

<Wait a minute, didn't she just call me Clark? What's my  name, then?>

Before he could ask, they heard a call from the street.  "Lois, are you okay in there?"

Lois frowned. "Jimmy! He'd better not know about this. I'll  think of something to tell him. But you'd better not look  so worried - do your hero pose."

"Hero pose?" he echoed, baffled, and she sighed.

"You fold your arms and stand with your feet apart like  this, and look noble and forbidding. It's very impressive.  Try it." He did as instructed, and immediately - perhaps  automatically - his face took on Superman's habitual stern  expression. "That's it. Your hair's a bit of a mess,  though. Jimmy's going to want photographs for the paper.  Here..." She dived into a jacket pocket, and came up with a  comb. "Comb it straight back. Hurry."

Jimmy's footsteps were approaching now. Superman quickly  followed instructions and handed the comb back, feeling  like a gawky child about to be taken for class photographs.  He folded his arms again, noticing how the "hero pose"  instantly lent him a feeling of security.

Jimmy scrambled through the gap in the wall and paused to  let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light. "Lois, we should  go before someone steals your car... Superman! You're here!  We thought you had left! Man, is it good to see you." He  seized Superman's hand and pumped it fervently. "You did a  great job today, we're all so grateful, but we were worried  about you after your radio cut out."

Superman had no idea what he was talking about, but a  response seemed to be in order. "No problem, Jimmy." He  wondered if he should say something more, but Lois cut in,  and Jimmy finally released Superman's hand.

"Jimmy, Superman was on his way to Clark's place to get  cleaned up, but he was concerned about us being in the Slum  at this time of night. I offered him a ride. We should get  going."

"Sure, Lois. But, Superman? Would you mind if I got some  pictures first? This'll be such a scoop for the Planet!"

"No, that's okay, Jimmy."

Lois added, "Better stick to head and shoulders shots,  though. We want 'Conquering Hero Returns', not 'Demolition  Man'."

Jimmy's eyebrows rose. It wasn't like Lois to pass up a  newsworthy angle. But then, she had always been rather  territorial about Superman. Safest not to argue. "You're  the boss, Lois." He took half a dozen shots of Superman,  including one in front of the "Faster than a speeding  bullet" billboard, then they went back to the Jeep.

Jimmy climbed into the back seat, but as Superman was about  to get into the front, Lois stopped him. She was eyeing his  filthy legs. "Superman, nothing personal, but could I ask  you not to sit on my upholstery like that? I think I have a  blanket to wrap around you." She retrieved the blanket from  the back of the Jeep, and draped it round Superman's  shoulders, muttering too softly for Jimmy to hear, "This  should stop you being recognised."

The drive to Clinton Avenue took only a few minutes. It was  cold and starting to rain, and there were no passersby to  gape at a dishevelled Superman climbing out of Lois's car.  But once inside the building, they met their first setback:  the apartment was in darkness, and Clark was not answering  his door. Lois fretted and fumed for a few minutes,  hammering on the door at frequent intervals, and then  turned to Jimmy with an air of decision. "We'll pick the  lock."

Superman shifted uncomfortably behind her. "Lois, I really  don't think..."

She turned and frowned at him, adopting an airy tone for  Jimmy's benefit. "Oh, I'm sure Clark won't mind, Superman.  He must just have popped out for some bread, or aspirin, or  something." She turned back to Jimmy. "Come on, Jimmy. If  you won't do it, I will!"

Jimmy blushed and looked uncertainly at Superman, then took  a piece of wire from his pocket and crouched in front of  the door. After few seconds of fiddling there was a click,  and the door swung open. "Good, it wasn't bolted."

Lois snorted. "Clark doesn't even have a bolt on his door.  He doesn't think he needs security." She walked through the  door, flicking the light on, and called, "Clark! ...  Clark?" She turned back to the others. "He's definitely not  here."

She gazed at Jimmy briefly, wheels visibly turning in her  brain. For a moment Jimmy had the unnerving, though not  unfamiliar, sensation of being an insect caught in the path  of a rapidly advancing windshield. "Jimmy, Perry's going to  want those photos for the morning edition. I was going to  run you over to the Planet and write up the story, but I  think I'd better stay here with Superman until Clark gets  back, and explain that picking the lock was my idea. Can  you get to the Planet on your own? I could call a cab."

Jimmy smiled thankfully at the paper-thin excuse; this  time, all she wanted was to spend some extra time alone  with Superman. "No problem, Lois, I'll take the subway."

"I can write up the story on Clark's computer and e-mail it  to Perry," she continued. "Tell him I'll have it there  by..." She checked her watch. "...eight. You'd better get  going if you're going to have those photos ready."

"Okay, see you in the morning. Superman, bye, and thanks  again." Jimmy waved and disappeared.

Lois leaned back against the banisters, and breathed a sigh  of relief. "Well, I think we passed that with flying  colours. Come on in, Superman. You probably want to get  showered right away, and I have an article to write. I'm  sure you can borrow some of Clark's clothes, that's if you  can find some that fit." She eyed Superman's muscular torso  covertly as he passed her; as usual, his proximity was  making her a trifle light-headed. She closed the door  behind him and led the way down to the living room, still  babbling. "I wonder when Clark will be home. He went home  sick this morning, you know -"

"Lois."

"- with a headache, so I'm sure he can't ..." She turned.  Superman had sat down heavily on the top step, the  confusion once again evident in his face. "Yes, what?"

"I'll take a shower in a minute, but there are some things  I'd really like to know first."

"Well, I'll tell you anything I can. What do you need to  know?"

"What's my name? And what's this Superman thing all about?"  He looked dubiously at his suit. "Am I a wrestler, or some  sort of circus act, or what?"

*****

- Chapter 2 : Revelation -

Lois looked at Superman in dismay. It just kept getting  worse. Not only had he forgotten who he was, he had also  forgotten *what* he was. No wonder he was confused. "No,  nothing like that. The costume is a bit... unusual, isn't  it?" She smiled reassuringly. "You're a - well, a  superhero."

His brow furrowed. "Like in the Batman comics? You mean,  I'm a movie actor or something?"

"No, no! You're a *real* superhero. With superpowers. You  can fly, and you're very strong, and nothing can hurt you.  That sort of superhero. Superman."

He stared at her blankly for a few moments. He couldn't  quite believe he was having this conversation. She didn't  really expect him to swallow all this, did she?

"Nothing can hurt me?"

"No."

"And I can fly?"

"That's right." She smiled encouragingly.

He misinterpreted the smile, and his heart fell at the  thought that she was treating his condition so lightly.  "Lois, quit fooling around. No one can fly."

The smile vanished. "No one else can, Superman, but *you*  can. You're special... different! You have to believe me!"  He studied her face carefully. She was totally in earnest.  She really did expect him to believe it.

His heart rose a little, but at the same time his feeling  of unease increased. He didn't want to be different. He  rose to his feet and began to pace.

"What does this superhero do, then? Do I solve crimes and  bring the criminals to justice?"

"No, not exactly. You rescue people in danger and put out  fires and help clean up after earthquakes and things. You  stop muggers and bank robbers too, but mostly you help  people. That's what you said when you first arrived, that  you're here to help."

"Arrived where? And where did I come from?"

As Superman paced, his abbreviated cape swirled about the  small of his back. Watching him, Lois was getting an  unusually uninterrupted view of the Man of Steel's legs...  not to mention the rear of those red shorts. The effect was  definitely pleasing to the eye. Lois found herself getting  rather warm. Realising she was still wearing her outdoor  jacket, she slipped it off and turned to lay it over the  back of Clark's couch, making a concerted effort to focus  her mind on the conversation.

"You come from another planet, called Krypton. You arrived  in Metropolis about six months ago."

"So there's a human colony on Krypton? Do they all have  these whatchacallum, these superpowers?"

"No, it's not an Earth colony. You're not human."

He whipped round to stare at her. His face had gone chalk- white. Lois gazed at him, wide-eyed. Why should that come  as such a surprise to him? Then his eyes narrowed, and his  face began to regain some colour. "You've been watching too  many late-night movies, Lois. I'm just as human as you.  Look at me!" He spread his arms wide. "Do I look like an  alien from outer space?" He was watching her carefully, as  though she might suddenly do something dangerous.

She planted her fists on her hips and glared at him.  "Dammit, Superman, I am *not* crazy, and I am *not* making  it up! Will you just give me a bit of credit?"

He reached out to grasp her shoulder gently, and said  soothingly, "It's okay, Lois. Don't get excited. Why don't  we sit down and talk about it calmly and quietly?"

Lois closed her eyes and started to count. She had just had  one of the worst days of her entire life, she was tired and  hungry, and now Superman was refusing to take her  seriously. At three, she gave up and recklessly abandoned  the last shreds of her temper. "All right, if you won't  believe me, let's see if you believe this!" she yelled,  batting his hand away from her shoulder and stalking  towards the kitchen. He followed her, torn between fears  for his own safety and for hers. She flipped on the kitchen  light, jerked open a drawer and rummaged through the  contents. Then she turned towards him triumphantly,  brandishing a very large, very lethal-looking kitchen  knife. "Let's see how much damage this can do to you!" she  exclaimed, and lunged towards his arm.

Even as she lunged, Lois had a sudden, terrifying vision of  the knife actually plunging into Superman's arm. She tried  to stop herself, but she had too much momentum. A split  second later Superman grabbed the knife, stopping it in  mid-strike as though it had encountered a brick wall.  Thrown off-balance, Lois felt his other arm catch her  deftly about the shoulders. She held onto the knife for an  instant longer, before he twisted it and tore it from her  slackened grip.

They stood frozen in a tableau for a long moment, as  Superman braced himself for the anticipated struggle, and  Lois's mind caught up with the last few seconds. Then Lois  drew a long, shuddering breath, and subsided, trembling,  against Superman's chest. "Oh, my God - I don't know what  came over me! I've never tried to stab anyone before! I  didn't mean you any harm - sometimes I just ..."

"Jump in without checking the water level first?" suggested  Superman drily, wondering what surprise this pint-sized  tornado had in store for him next. He was rewarded with a  watery chuckle.

"Exactly... you are all right, aren't you?" She lifted her  head to look for the knife, and gasped. Superman followed  her gaze. The hilt of the knife was protruding from his  fist; his fingers were clenched tightly around the blade.  He blanched at the sight and turned his fist over, but  there was no blood, and no pain either.

He set Lois gently back on her feet, and stepped back.  <Even without his memory, he's still the gentlest man in  the world, as well as the strongest,> she thought. <I'm  lucky he didn't toss me clear across the room... or worse.>

He took the knife handle in his right hand, and carefully  unwrapped his fingers from around the blade. He inspected  his fingers briefly; there was not a mark on them, which  was more than could be said for the knife blade. It was  twisted and buckled, and four deep indentations showed  where his fingers had gripped the cutting edge.

"I think you proved my point," Lois remarked, "but we owe  Clark a new kitchen knife!" Her temptation to giggle fled  as she registered Superman's expression. All traces of  emotion had been wiped from his face, leaving the familiar,  impassive mask. He studied the knife for a second longer  before dropping it on the counter and turning to face her,  drawing himself up into the classic Superman stance once  again.

"So, I am an alien," he conceded, his voice deep and  emotionless. Lois winced.

"You say that like it's a bad thing!" she exclaimed. "The  entire world is busy counting its blessings right now,  instead of preparing for doomsday - and it's all thanks to  your special abilities. There was a huge asteroid heading  straight for us, much bigger than the one that wiped out  the dinosaurs. *You* did what no one else on Earth could  do, and stopped it. You flew out into space and rammed into  it, breaking it up into little pieces." She laid an  imperious hand on his folded arms. "The entire world is in  your debt, Superman, so don't even *think* about it being  better if you were an ordinary human. Not to mention the  half-a-dozen times you've saved my life in the last few  months, and thousands of other people's!" She was glaring  at him by this time, and he was smiling slightly, although  his eyes were still guarded.

"Half a dozen times? Surely that's an exaggeration?" he  enquired. She blushed and looked down, running a hand  through her hair.

"Yes, well, no, I, uh..." she floundered. "Okay, I get into  trouble a lot. I tend to jump in without checking the water  level first," she concluded, her eyes daring him to laugh.

"I'll take your word for it," he said solemnly. He leant  back against the kitchen counter, growing more thoughtful.  "This asteroid - that was what Jimmy was talking about? Is  the threat over?"

"I imagine so. The broadcast from EPRAD showed it breaking  up into about a million fragments. I don't suppose you  remember it?" He shook his head. "That's a real shame,  because right now I ought to be interviewing you for my  article in the Daily Planet. It would have been a big  scoop."

"I do actually remember something," he said slowly,  thinking back. "Something from before I found myself in  that warehouse. I thought it was a dream. I was out in  space, looking towards the Earth, and I had to get back  here. I don't remember anything about the asteroid, though.  I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't apologise!" she reassured him. "You were injured  in the line of duty - it's hardly your fault! Can you  remember anything else?"

He pondered. "I could breathe while I was out there. Don't  I need air - oxygen - to breathe?"

She smiled. "You can hold your breath for about twenty  minutes, I believe, but you do need oxygen. The EPRAD team  gave you an oxygen tank to use on the mission. It must have  survived the impact with the asteroid. Your radio didn't -  EPRAD lost your signal when you hit. We... people thought  you might have been killed." Her eyes were dark with  remembered anguish.

"But you came to find me," he said softly. "I owe you a  debt too, Lois." He lifted a gentle hand to cup her cheek.  The familiar gesture threatened to bring tears to her eyes.  "So," he added, in a more cheerful tone, "I can fly, I'm  invulnerable, and I'm very strong. Is that right?" He  picked up the knife again and attempted to straighten the  blade, but to no avail. Then he tested the point against  his palm, pressing harder and harder. Lois winced, but the  blade didn't break.

"I don't seem to be able to use this special strength,  except when I'm not thinking about it," he concluded. He  discarded the knife again. "How do I fly? Do I flap my  arms, or something?"

"Most of the time you just ... levitate," Lois said  thoughtfully. "When you take off, you often do this -" and  she demonstrated with a fist in the air, "- but I don't  know whether that's just for effect."

Superman's eyebrows quirked at the last comment, but he  didn't respond. Instead, he closed his eyes and  concentrated on trying to levitate. Nothing. He tried it  again with his eyes open, trying to visualise the room  moving around him. "No go," he commented, unsure whether he  was more disappointed or relieved.

Lois pondered. "You can also do special things with your  vision," she offered. "You can heat things up, and you can  also see through things, like X-ray vision. I know," she  cried, crossing the room and clicking the lights off. "Can  you see anything?"

"It's a bit dim and grey, like it was in the warehouse, but  I can see clearly enough."

"I can't see a thing," said Lois triumphantly. She flipped  the lights on again. "So your night vision is still  working."

"Oh," said Superman, dubiously. "Oh!" he repeated with more  animation, as things began to fall into place. He looked  pensively at Lois. "I suppose you couldn't see anything in  the warehouse, either? I wondered why you called me  'Clark'."

Lois's brow furrowed as she thought back. "That's right, I  couldn't see you until I used the flashlight," she agreed.  "You sounded just like Clark when you first spoke. I was so  thankful," she added. "When I first heard you moving, I  thought it must be a rat. You were lucky I wasn't throwing  stones at you!"

He nodded. "That explains why you went pale when you looked  up. I assumed you were aghast at the way I was dressed."

"Oh, you always wear that uniform. Believe me, the  emergency services breathe a sigh of relief when they see  the red and blue show up!"

He grimaced. "That's all very well, but why *tights*?"

She smiled slowly. "They're not exactly the fashion  statement of the year. But according to a magazine poll  last month, 11 out of 12 American women voted you the  present they'd most like to find in their Christmas  stocking." She watched with amused interest as his face  coloured. Then she let her gaze drift downwards. "The  tights certainly don't hurt your... appeal any."

He positively squirmed. The kitchen was starting to feel  far too small for two people. He folded his arms again to  help him maintain his composure. "Speaking of clothes, I  really ought to get into something clean. I think I'll take  that shower now."

"Good idea. I need to start writing, too." She led the way  out of the kitchen. "Clark's bedroom is through here, and  there's the bathroom. I hope you can find some of Clark's  clothes to fit you. He's not quite as well-built as you  are." The memory of Clark's torso, on the day when she had  caught him wearing only a towel, arose unbidden before her  mind's eye, but she dismissed it hastily. Sure, Clark was  in surprisingly good shape, especially considering his  eating habits, but this *was* Superman. And anyway,  Superman was taller. She was feeling slightly flushed  again. "I'd better find you a towel."

She disappeared, much to Superman's relief. For a minute it  had seemed Lois's solicitousness was going to extend to  picking out clothes for him. He opened Clark's closet and  studied the contents, deciding that he liked Clark's taste  in clothing better than his own, if his current costume was  anything to go by. There were quite a few conservative  business suits and dress shirts, but a rack of brightly- coloured ties hinted at a less conventional streak. He  turned his attention to Clark's casual clothes and selected  a pair of comfortably worn jeans, a T-shirt, some shorts  and a pair of sport socks. He was pondering the question of  shoes when Lois bustled back in.

"I found a towel in the dryer," she said. "I imagine  anything else you need will be..." Her voice trailed off.  She was staring at Clark's bedside table. There, beside an  alarm clock, a table lamp and a framed photograph of  Clark's parents, lay a little pile of personal effects: a  leather wallet, a watch, a set of keys and a pair of horn- rimmed glasses.

Still staring at the table, Lois handed the towel blindly  to Superman. She crossed the room and sank down on the bed,  picking up the glasses. "Why would Clark go out without  these?" she wondered aloud. She looked round. "And his bed  doesn't look as if it's been slept in. Clark was supposed  to be coming home to sleep off a headache this morning...  and he was wearing these then." She shook her head and  replaced the glasses. "Sometimes he's just so weird! He'll  probably walk in in a minute and explain that he had to  return a library book."

She stood up briskly and pasted a smile on her face. "Go  and get cleaned up. I've got to get that article in on  time, or Perry will have my hide." She waved Superman in  the direction of the bathroom, shooting a last puzzled  glance at the bedside table before heading for the  computer.

As she switched on the laptop and waited for it to boot up,  Lois heard the shower come on. It brought back the last  time she had been in this apartment when Superman was in  the shower. "Does the costume actually come off?" she had  asked Clark, embarrassing both of them. Now her thoughts  were once again assailed by images of Superman without the  costume. "Concentrate on the story, Lois!" she admonished  herself. "You have a deadline, remember?"

*****

- Chapter 3 : Reflections -

Superman had a little difficulty extracting himself from  the suit. He finally worked out that the cape was held on  with velcro, and that there was a zip down the back of the  body. The bold colours were even more conspicuous in normal  lighting. He eyed the cape grimly; it was hardly fit to  wear, but where and when was he going to be able to get  another? Not that he was all that fond of capes, but the  close-fitting suit seemed positively embarrassing without  it. He tossed the cape into Clark's laundry hamper with the  rest of the filthy garments, noting in passing that his  taste in underwear seemed to coincide with Clark's, and  turned his attention to the shower.

The warm water sluicing over him removed the last of the  grime, and relieved much of the tension in his neck and  shoulders, but it did little for the confusion clouding his  mind. He was starting to build up a picture of himself from  what Lois had told him; but while the person who emerged  seemed admirable, in a rather exaggerated, theatrical  fashion, there didn't seem to be much about him to *like*.

Moreover, he couldn't fathom the nature of his relationship  with Lois. His feelings for her had seemed absolute and  unshakeable at first. He frowned at that thought: no, his  feelings still were absolute and unshakeable. But nothing  that Lois had done or said seemed to provide any basis for  those feelings. If he had known her for months, why hadn't  he swept her off her feet long ago? Was she in love with  someone else - Clark, perhaps? She wasn't wearing an  engagement ring, and she didn't have a key to Clark's  apartment; but she had turned to him naturally in a crisis.  And she seemed to have few reservations about making use of  his things. Though, to be sure, it would take a resolute  man to stand up to Lois once she got the bit between her  teeth.

He stepped out of the shower and dried himself. He was  relieved to find that the clothes he had picked at random  fitted him comfortably. He wouldn't have to spend time  searching for a better fit.

He towelled his hair dry, and inspected himself critically  in the mirror. Worried, dark brown eyes gazed back at him.  Broad cheekbones and an olive complexion lent him a faintly  exotic look. Dark, strongly-marked brows and a firm jaw  gave him an air of decision. He had an unremarkable nose  and a wide mouth, and - he checked briefly - good teeth. He  reflected that the last characteristic probably came with  the invulnerability.

His hair was thick and dark, cut fairly long, and still  wild from the towel. He ran his fingers through it to  restore some order, and it parted naturally on the left  side. A stray lock of hair insisted on falling forward over  his right eyebrow. He picked up Clark's comb and combed his  hair straight backwards, as Lois had directed him earlier.  The resulting effect was clean-cut, but on the whole he  thought he preferred the more natural style. He shrugged,  and left the sanctuary of the bathroom.

From the bedroom, he could hear Lois typing rapidly at  Clark's computer. Loath to disturb her, he stood looking  about the room, wondering about its owner. The furnishings  were simple, but the patterned fabrics and the bold colours  on the walls bespoke a less than conventional personality.

On an impulse, he picked up Clark's glasses and tried them  on, studying the effect in the mirror in a corner of the  room. He was a little surprised to note that he could see  just as well with them as without; his eyes must be able to  adjust automatically for the prescription lenses. More  surprising still was the effect on his appearance. The  glasses hid his eyebrows and diminished the breadth of his  jaw, making him look less forceful, more approachable;  almost a different person.

The computer keyboard had fallen silent. Superman hastily  removed the glasses and replaced them on the bedside table,  then walked through to the living room. Lois was sitting at  the dining table, a pencil clenched between her teeth,  scowling at her computer screen. She ignored Superman's  approach, and he continued examining his surroundings with  interest. The room displayed the same blend of simplicity  and individuality as Clark's bedroom and wardrobe. There  were a number of ornaments from exotic locations - a wooden  African spirit mask, a Maori greenstone tiki, a Bornean  fertility statue. If Clark had collected them himself, he  must be something of a traveller.

He also had a small but comprehensive collection of books,  ranging from A. A. Milne to John Steinbeck, and from Carl  Jung to Stephen Hawking. Superman picked up the obviously  long-treasured copy of "Now We Are Six", and opened it. The  flyleaf was inscribed, "To Clark, who is as clever as  clever. With love from Mom and Dad. February 1972." The  next volume, Bill Bryson's "Mother Tongue", was simply  marked "Clark Kent" in a firm script.

As he replaced it, some foreign lettering caught his eye:  Kahlil Gibran's "The Prophet" was labelled in Arabic. He  picked it up and read a few sentences at random, confirming  that the entire volume was printed in Arabic. And if its  well-thumbed condition was anything to go by, Clark had  read it repeatedly. The same was true of the slim volume  next to it: Miyamoto Musashi's "Book of Five Rings",  printed in Kanji. In addition to being well-travelled and  well-read, Clark was evidently impressively well-educated.  Superman wondered briefly whether Clark had any weak points  at all. <Besides not being here when Lois needs him,> a  little voice in the back of his mind suggested. He frowned  and dismissed the uncharitable thought.

Lois had resumed typing. Superman crossed the room to stand  behind her. It seemed entirely natural to bend down,  resting a hand on the arm of her chair, and read what she  had written. It was very good, he thought to himself,  ignoring her slight stiffening. "Meteorite," he said,  helpfully.

"I beg your pardon?" Lois said, with a slightly acid edge.

Superman pointed to the screen. "You called it - me - a  meteor, but you said it had landed. Once it lands, it's  called a meteorite."

Lois seethed. Reading an unfinished story over her shoulder  was bad enough, but this was too much. "Listen, big guy,"  she retorted, shutting the laptop screen with a snap, "no  one except Kent edits my copy - and even he doesn't do it  lightly!" She twisted in her chair to look him in the eye.  "Why don't you let me do my job, and find something else to  do in the meantime?" As she paused to take a breath, Lois  caught his newly-showered fragrance, and her heart skipped  a beat. This was *Superman* standing behind her, his face  only inches from hers. "That is, if you don't mind?" she  finished, in distinctly breathless tones.

Superman stood up and retreated a pace, jolted both by the  unexpected rebuff and by Lois's lightning changes of mood.  "I'm sorry," he said stiffly, his expression shuttered. "I  guess I could make some tea."

Lois's eyes widened at the unfamiliar concept of Superman  doing domestic chores. "Thanks, that would be great!" she  enthused.

As he turned and walked towards the stove, Lois closed her  eyes and mentally shook herself. <Smart move, kiddo. The  chance of a lifetime to spend quality time alone with  Superman, and you alternate between biting his head off and  gushing all over him? Pull yourself together and finish  your article, and then you'd better make a fresh start. And  try and behave like an intelligent woman this time!>

Something about Superman's expression was tugging at her  memory. She let her mind drift back - yes, she had seen  that set expression on his face once before. It had been  shortly after he had arrived in Metropolis, and he had just  come out of a building where a bomb had gone off. Minutes  later, Lois and Clark had listened in mounting horror as  the police explosives expert had informed them that the  bomb had been a trap set for Superman. Lois opened the  laptop again and looked briefly over her story. Yes, she  had made the right decision.

She quickly amended the word "meteor" to "meteorite",  glancing over at Superman to see whether he had noticed. He  was crouched in front of Clark's kitchen cabinets,  apparently searching for a kettle. Lois made a mental note  to thank Clark for concealing it so well, because it was  giving her a fabulous opportunity to admire the way  Superman looked in civilian clothing, without being  observed. The soft denim hugged his slim hips lovingly and  the T-shirt, while not as tight as she would have expected,  still displayed his broad shoulders and strong arms to  admiration. She had to admit that the Man of Steel looked  considerably less striking out of his Spandex, but he still  cut an extremely attractive figure, worth a second look  from any red-blooded woman. <Make that any woman who's  still breathing,> she mused dreamily.

Superman finally located the kettle and stood up, crossing  to the sink to fill it. Lois hastily withdrew her gaze and  fixed her eyes on her computer, her cheeks rather pink. She  forced herself to focus her mind on her article once more.  Superman's hunt for mugs and herbal tea leaves was a good  deal shorter, but by the time the tea was ready, Lois was  fully absorbed in her writing and barely accorded him a  muttered "thank you" as he set the steaming mug down next  to her.

He hovered for a second and then went to sit down on the  couch. He cupped his hands around his tea, and sipped it.  He could feel the heat, but it didn't hurt him at all. He  looked at Lois over the rim of the mug. Her pencil was  tucked behind her ear now, and she was frowning at the  screen in concentration. It seemed a familiar picture, but  judging from Lois's irate response to his well-meaning  interference, he didn't often get a chance to see her at  work. Another mystery. It occurred to him that he was  staring at her like a lovestruck teenager, and he switched  the television on, turning the sound down to avoid  disturbing Lois's concentration.

A few minutes later Lois hit the "send" button and sat back  in her chair, satisfied. She picked up her mug of tea, no  longer steaming but still pleasantly warm, and looked  around for Superman. He was sitting in front of Clark's  television set, watching a news special on the Nightfall  Asteroid. He was wearing an expression of mild disgust,  with a hint of embarrassment. Her curiosity piqued, she  went to stand beside him. They were running the footage of  his departure from EPRAD, and he was being shown talking to  Lois. As she watched, her screen counterpart gripped  Superman's arm and pressed a kiss on his reluctant lips. It  was Lois's turn to look embarrassed.

She took a sip of her tea, and grimaced. "This could do  with some sweetener," she muttered. "I don't suppose Clark  has anything but sugar."

Superman looked up. "There's some honey," he offered,  starting to get up.

"It's okay, I'll get it. You keep watching... it might jog  your memory."

"It's in the left-hand cupboard, next to the stove," he  said, as he subsided back onto the couch and returned his  attention to the screen.

Lois opened the cupboard and rummaged among the contents.  Sure enough, at the back was a jar of liquid honey. She  added a spoonful to her tea and returned to the computer.  She plugged the modem in and connected it to the phone  jack, then ran the application to dial up Clark's ISP.  While the email was being transferred, she pulled up a  browser window and pointed it to a search engine. Time to  do a little medical research.

Twenty minutes later, Lois had found enough material to go  on with. She disconnected the computer, stood up and  stretched. Superman was still watching the news special,  which was concluding with archive footage of various  Superman exploits from the previous year. He had the same  mildly disgusted expression she had seen on his face  earlier. As she went over to sit on the couch beside him,  the programme ended and he switched the set off.

"You seem less than delighted by your television coverage,"  remarked Lois, amused.

"It's a bit disconcerting to discover that you're a media  celebrity," he replied slowly. "Especially one that comes  across like a muscle-bound cartoon character."

"What do you mean?" Lois asked, looking at him oddly. She  was surprised to find that she felt slightly offended by  the comment.

"Well, take that appearance at EPRAD today," he said,  gazing abstractedly at the blank television screen. "I can  see what you meant about my gestures being 'for effect.'  They all seem very theatrical, like my costume. And  everything I said seems so... so totally unimaginative.  It's as though I were playing a part." A horrid thought  struck him, and he turned to look at her. "Lois, this is  all off the record, isn't it?"

She gaped at him, struck to the quick. "Of course it is,  Superman! Are you implying that I'd take advantage of your  weakness, just to... to print some nasty gutter-press  gossip article?" Her eyes flashed fire.

He closed his eyes and ran one finger up the bridge of his  nose in a gesture that struck Lois as incongruous, and yet  oddly familiar. "I'm sorry, Lois. I don't know what to  think. This is all so confusing." He sighed, and met her  eyes. "I don't even know what sort of a relationship we  have. Are we... close?"

Lois knew he was thinking about the kiss he had just seen  broadcast on a national news network. For a wild moment she  toyed with the idea of saying "Yes, we're very close  indeed," and flinging herself into his arms. He would kiss  her passionately, the way he had once before, and this time  they would... float off into the sunset together? She  grimaced as her imagination failed her. Then it presented a  different picture altogether: Superman looking at her in  disgust when he realised she had deceived him, the way he  sometimes looked at a criminal he had just apprehended.  Superman never lied, and right now what he needed most from  her was support and honesty.

"No, we're not really close," she replied. Was that a  glimmer of disappointment in his eyes? Surely not. "We're  friends, I hope. You give me quite a few exclusives about  your rescues, and you sometimes drop in at my apartment for  a minute in the evening, when you're on patrol. You take me  flying sometimes - I love that." She looked down at her  hands. "You told me you loved me once, but that was only  because you were under the influence of a love potion that  a mad chemist was trying to spray all over Metropolis. You  even kissed me." She swallowed, trying *not* to recall that  kiss in too much detail just at the moment. "But you never  mentioned it again, so it obviously wore off." She smiled  brightly at him, trying not to look disappointed. "You've  never told me very much about yourself, though. For all I  know, you have a wife and five bouncing children."

"No!" he exclaimed, startling her. "No, I'm not married,"  he repeated, less forcefully. The words, "I do love you,  and I always will," hovered on the tip of his tongue, but  doubts restrained him. Why had he never told her so before?  He must have his reasons, and he needed to find out what  they were before he said something he might have cause to  regret.

She was looking eagerly at him. When he didn't continue,  she prompted him: "Are you starting to remember anything?  Did the TV footage help?"

He shook his head doubtfully. "Some of it sounded faintly  familiar, as though it happened to someone else. It didn't  seem like me. But I do know one or two things about myself,  and I know I'm not married. I wish I could remember more  about who I really am."

Lois looked puzzled at this, but as she opened her mouth  the phone began to ring. She grinned. "Excuse me. I think  this is for me." She leaned over and picked up the phone.  "Hello, Chief," she said.

Perry's familiar Southern drawl responded. "You were  expecting a call from your poor, long-suffering editor,  then? Good, that'll make this easier. You know, Lois, I had  Jimmy come in here an hour ago, walking on air because you  and he got the scoop on Superman getting back safe from his  mission today. He told me he left you with Superman at  Clark's place, so naturally I assumed we were going to get  the exclusive straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak.

"Now, I've got your article right in front of me - and  don't get me wrong, Lois, it's a very good article - but  you know, when I look carefully I can't find a single  detail in here that Jimmy didn't already tell me. So would  you like to tell me what in the Sam Hill's going on?"

"I didn't think it was going to fool you for long, Chief,"  she replied meekly. "What Jimmy doesn't know is that  Superman didn't get back entirely safely today. He doesn't  seem to be hurt, but he's got amnesia. He can't remember  anything about the mission today - or much of anything  else, either." She looked at Superman, who was looking  alarmed at her words, and mouthed "It's okay" at him.

Perry was making concerned noises. "That sounds pretty bad.  Has he seen a doctor?" he enquired.

"No, he... doesn't want to. I doubt any doctor's going to  be able to help much, anyway. There aren't any experts in  Kryptonian physiology that I know of. I've just finished  reading up on amnesia on the web, and it looks as if his  memory ought to come back on its own. He just needs some  rest and some time in familiar surroundings, doing familiar  things."

"That sounds more encouraging. So tell me, how much space  should I be keeping in the afternoon edition for this  story?"

Lois bit her lip, and took a deep breath. "Chief, we can't  print it," she said firmly.

"Great shades of Elvis! Has my top investigative reporter  gone soft?" asked Perry, with deceptive mildness. "We're  talking Kerth material here, Lois!"

"I know, Chief. The thing is... do you remember just after  Superman arrived in Metropolis, someone was setting up  tests and traps for him? And you remember all the trouble  we had with Bureau 39? Jason Trask may be dead, but someone  just as bad will have taken his place. Once the criminals  and the crazies know that Superman can be hurt, they're  going to start going after him again. And even if they  don't succeed, they don't care who they injure in the  process. Superman risked everything for us today. I think  he deserves a little protection in return!" she finished,  defiantly. She met Superman's quizzical gaze, and blushed.

There was a brief silence, then Perry chuckled. "Now that's  something I never thought to hear - Lois Lane, hot-shot  reporter, arguing herself out of a front-page story. Well,  you've convinced me. I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Wait, Chief... if Superman hasn't recovered his memory by  tomorrow, I was wondering if I could take the day off -"

"And spend it holding Superman's hand? Are you sure he  wouldn't rather Clark played nursemaid? How is Clark, by  the way?"

"Well actually, Chief, we haven't seen Clark this evening.  He seems to have gone out without his wallet or his keys,  and we're a bit worried about him..."

"Then how in tarnation did you get into his apartment? No,  don't tell me, I don't want to know. Now listen, Lois, I  don't want any argument. I can't afford to have both  members of my best reporting team off duty at a time like  this. EPRAD has announced a press conference at noon  tomorrow, and I expect one of you to be covering it, even  if you don't make it in to the office. Now, you do what you  can for Superman, and give him my thanks and my best  wishes." And Perry hung up.

*****

- Chapter 4 : Three's a Crowd -

Lois put the phone down. "That was Perry White, my editor  at the Planet," she explained, and relayed his last words  to Superman. "That was easier than I expected," she added.  "I thought he would take a lot of persuading not to print  the big story."

Superman nodded. "Are there people constantly trying to  kill me?" he enquired. The idea was distinctly unsettling.

"We never found out who was setting traps for you," Lois  replied. "Nobody's ever found a way to hurt you. They  seemed to be trying to drive you away rather than kill you.  The incidents stopped after you announced that you had come  to Metropolis to stay."

"Oh, so I live in the city? Not in a space ship somewhere?  I should be going home, then, not trespassing on Clark's  hospitality - especially when he's not here."

"I don't know where you live, Superman. But you stayed here  once before when you couldn't go home, so it counts as  familiar surroundings for you. And I know Clark wouldn't  mind."

He looked unconvinced, but he didn't argue. "You said  something on the phone about familiar surroundings. Will  you tell me what you found out about amnesia?"

"Yes, of course." Her voice took on a professional tone.  "Amnesia is usually associated with head injuries, or with  a traumatic event. You seem to have almost total amnesia  about your identity and your past experiences, but you can  remember everything that happened since the accident, which  is a good sign. Can you remember the date?"

"It's January 1994, but I don't know the exact date." She  nodded, and asked a few more questions. He could remember  general information such as the capital of France and the  name of the President of America, but nothing of more  personal significance.

"It doesn't matter," she reassured him. "Unless you had  serious brain damage, which you obviously haven't, your  memory should return of its own accord within a day or two,  at the most." <As long as your brain works like ours,> she  added privately, deciding not to voice that particular  concern. "We can try to speed it up by establishing  associations with past memories. That's why I thought the  news footage might be a good idea. Familiar music and  photographs, and of course people, can also help."

He nodded slowly, taking it all in. "So what do you suggest  I do?"

"I'll tell you everything I can, and Clark will too, once  he gets home. But the very first thing I suggest is  something to eat. I'm starving!" Her stomach chose to  underline this statement with a low growl, and she blushed.

She got up from the couch and went over to the kitchen  area. "I wonder if Clark has anything we can eat. Last time  I looked, his kitchen was full of Twinkies and Ding-Dongs."  She opened the fridge. "Plenty of milk - how does he get  through that much? Eggs, cheese, cream... doesn't he even  think about cholesterol? Some raw vegetables... ham... We  might be able to make some sandwiches." She checked the  bread bin. "No, no bread. What about something we can  microwave?" She opened the freezer. "Lots of ice cream, but  no frozen dinners. We'll just have to order take-out." She  took two steps towards the phone, then stopped. "No, that's  no good, either. I left my purse at home when I went out to  the Slum."

Superman cleared his throat. He was leaning against the  kitchen counter, enjoying the miniature whirlwind effect  Lois had been creating. "I might be able to help."

Lois raised an eyebrow. "You mean, fly me over to my  apartment to get some cash? I wish you could! But I don't  think you'd better go anywhere dressed like that. You  aren't instantly recognisable as Superman without the  costume, but we shouldn't risk it."

Superman looked faintly embarrassed. "No, what I meant was,  I could cook something."

After a moment Lois remembered to close her mouth. "I, uh,  didn't realise you could cook," she said, feebly. "That  would be very nice... if you're sure..."

"It's good to know I can surprise you," Superman said, and  grinned. Lois blinked; she had never seen him look so  natural before. "I enjoy cooking, I think. It's relaxing."

<Not if you do it my way,> thought Lois. Somehow she found  herself sitting at the table, as Superman gathered up some  onions and garlic and located Clark's chopping board.

"It's a good thing Clark has more than one knife," he  remarked, as he closed the knife drawer. Despite the tease,  he was looking serious again. "Would you mind answering  some more questions while I work?"

Lois pulled herself together. "Of course not. What do you  want to know?"

"Tell me about Clark," he requested.

Lois was surprised again. "I didn't expect that to be your  first question," she commented.

"I'm standing in Clark's kitchen, cooking his food and  wearing his clothes," Superman replied. "I feel I ought to  know something about him." He started to chop the onions.  Lois watched his hands moving confidently; he certainly  seemed to know what he was doing.

"Well, Clark's my partner," she began. The knife slipped,  and sliced across Superman's fingers. Lois flinched and  caught her breath involuntarily. "Ouch! Are you... of  course you're all right," she tailed off.

He checked his fingers cursorily, then tested the hapless  knife on the onion. "I'm fine," he said, "but I've taken  the edge off this knife." He pulled open the knife drawer  and rummaged at the back, pulling out a whetstone. He  closed the drawer and crossed to the sink, where he rinsed  the knife and then ran some water over the stone. Standing  with his back to Lois, he began to sharpen the knife with  long, careful strokes. "You were telling me about Clark,"  he said.

Lois had been gazing wide-eyed at this display of culinary  proficiency. She had never seen a whetstone before, and  certainly wouldn't have known how to use one. Once again,  she collected her scattered thoughts.

"Clark came to work at the Planet in about May last year. I  thought he was just a small-town hack - Perry didn't even  hire him at first. Then he came back with a mood piece he'd  written, about an old theatre that was closing down. Such a  nerve - Perry had given me that assignment, and Clark must  have found out about it. The article was really good,  though, and Perry hired him on the spot. Perry called it  'initiative'." Lois smiled wryly. "I was furious when he  assigned Clark to work with me! That must have been shortly  before you arrived in Metropolis, because it was the  shuttle sabotage story we were working on.

"Anyway, I soon realised that he wasn't quite the Mister  Green Jeans that he looks. He grew up in Smallville,  Kansas, but he did a lot of travelling after he graduated,  and he speaks several languages. He even reads Chinese, for  heaven's sake. And he's a good journalist." She hesitated;  this honesty she had promised herself was going to be more  difficult than she had thought. "Very good, in fact. Maybe  even nearly as good as I am. Our styles complement each  other very well."

Superman had finished sharpening the knife, and chopping  the onions. He found a large frying pan and melted some  butter on the stove, adding the onions. Lois watched as he  used a small implement to crush some cloves of garlic into  the pan. "I bet you could do that with your bare hands,"  she remarked idly.

He shrugged. "Maybe I could," he admitted, and shot another  heart-stopping grin at her. "But what would people say when  Superman arrived to rescue them with his hands covered in  garlic?"

She laughed. "You have a point," she conceded. "Mmm, that  smells wonderful. Where was I?"

"You were telling me what Clark is like to work with.  What's he like as a person?" He turned his attention to  slicing mushrooms.

"He's... really difficult to pin down. You think you have  him all figured out, and then he does something that really  surprises you. He comes across like a wide-eyed country boy  most of the time, but nothing seems to faze him. Heck, even  I don't intimidate him, and everybody else I know has the  sense to run scared when I'm in a temper. Clark just stands  there and lets me shout at him and work it all off, and  then he grins at me and goes and gets me some coffee. It's  not that he lets me walk all over him, either. I did  something really mean to him, back when he first arrived,  and he got me back..." She hesitated, and decided to leave  it at that. Being honest didn't necessarily require all the  gory details. "But he didn't rub my nose in it, and he  doesn't seem to feel the need to prove he's better than me,  like most other men I've met.

"And there's another thing. He's fairly attractive..." She  lost another brief struggle with her conscience, "... very  attractive, in fact. The gossip columnist from the Planet,  who eats men like him whole, made a bee-line for him the  moment she saw him. I thought he'd fallen for her, hook,  line and sinker; but she's still all over him any time she  gets a chance, so maybe he evaded her clutches after all."  <Or maybe he's so good that she wants an unprecedented  second bite,> she thought to herself.

The unconscious note of jealousy in Lois's voice hadn't  escaped Superman's notice. What sort of relationship did  Lois have with her lover - no, her "partner", he amended -  if she was still feeling threatened by someone from Clark's  past? The coil of jealousy growing in the pit of his  stomach was joined by a thread of anger at the absent  Clark. He glared at the ham he was now chopping.

"Anyway," Lois continued, "most men who are that good- looking are really full of themselves, but not Clark. He  doesn't do things to draw attention to himself. You could  call him mild-mannered, I suppose. But he's fun to be with,  and he's got a great sense of humour. He cares about  people, too, and cares about trying to help them.

"And then, just when you think he's safe and predictable,  he goes and pulls some weird stunt, like this one today.  He'll just disappear off the face of the earth, as though  he never existed. And ten minutes later, or maybe six hours  later, he'll come strolling casually in as though nothing  has happened, and tell you he went to pick up his dry- cleaning, or he left something in his car, even though he  doesn't have a car. It's so frustrating! I don't know why  Perry puts up with it, but he never seems to call Clark on  it."

Superman added the ham to the frying pan, and stirred the  mixture contemplatively. "When did you -" He found he  couldn't say the words "fall in love with him." "- start  seeing each other?" he finished.

Lois looked bewildered. "Seeing each other? We don't... we  aren't... we're just friends," she stammered.

It was Superman's turn to look surprised. "But you said you  were partners?"

"Oh! Not that sort of partner - working together partners.  We investigate our stories and write them up together. We  don't have any... romantic attachment."

"Oh." That explained quite a few things which had been  troubling him. He couldn't resist probing the hurt, though,  like a child worrying a loose tooth. "Why not? You  obviously like him a lot. Are you saying there's no  romantic feeling there at all?"

Even as Lois drew a breath to deliver a vehement denial,  she was assailed by the memory of that kiss in the  honeymoon suite at the Lexor Hotel. She had been startled  when Clark had unceremoniously scooped her onto the bed and  started kissing her, but within a few seconds she had been  grappling with very different feelings. The sound of the  maid entering the bedroom had come in time to prevent her  losing her head completely, but even so she had returned  the kiss with rather more enthusiasm than was strictly  necessary. And when the maid had left and Clark had  abruptly released her, evidently expecting her to let rip  at him, all her shaken mind had come up with was a feeble  complaint that the maid hadn't knocked.

Lois realised that Superman was still waiting for an  answer. Honesty, she reminded herself. "I don't really  know," she said slowly. She looked down at the tablecloth.  "It hasn't exactly come up. Well, I suppose it did once,  actually. You remember I mentioned that love potion?  Miranda squirted it all over the Planet newsroom, and  everyone who was sprayed lost all their inhibitions. Well,  I got some, and so did Clark. I spent the next two days  fawning all over him." Her cheeks were burning, and she put  her hands over them. "He was a perfect gentleman the whole  time; he fended me off gently but very effectively. So, to  answer your question... I guess I am attracted to him to  some extent - but he isn't attracted to me."

There was a silence, as Superman searched vainly for  something to say to ease Lois's embarrassment. He  concentrated on adding pasta shells to the pot of bubbling  water on the stove, giving her time to recover her dignity.

After a few moments Lois shrugged, and forced her voice to  a matter-of-fact tone. "But it's probably just as well.  Office romances are always a disaster. I had one once,  years ago; it ended badly, and it made work hell for both  of us for months, until he left to go to another paper. I  swore I'd never do anything like that again. Clark and I  are friends, and very good partners. It would be stupid to  throw that away for a superficial fling." She studied the  tablecloth, refusing to meet Superman's eyes.

"Not all romances are a disaster, Lois. Sometimes people do  fall in love and live happily ever after. You sound as  though you're not prepared to take a chance to find out if  it could happen to you."

"I know more about the other kind of relationship. My  father just walked out on my mother one day, and never came  back. It nearly destroyed her." She traced the pattern on  the tablecloth with one finger. "Anyway, I don't think I'm  good happy-ever-after material. I'm an ambitious career  woman - I'm better at trampling on men's egos than at  stroking them. I can't even cook!"

Superman put a lid on the pasta pot, and turned down the  heat. "Cooking is overrated," he said, crossing to the  table and sitting down opposite her. He stilled her  restless fingers with one hand, and gently lifted her chin  with the other until she met his eyes. "You're a very  attractive woman, Lois. You're beautiful, and brilliant,  and brave. Any man who can't see that must be blind. And  any man who feels threatened by it doesn't deserve you."

Tears were pricking at her eyelids, and she blinked them  away. She could see the total sincerity in his eyes, and it  awed her. "If someone had asked me a year ago, I'd have  said I didn't believe in happy endings," she said huskily,  and smiled tentatively. "But then, a year ago I didn't  believe in men who could fly, either. I guess life can  surprise you."

She looked down at their linked hands on the table. "That's  another reason it wouldn't work out with Clark," she said  hesitantly. "The feelings I have for you. Ever since the  first day I met you - when you saved my life by *eating* a  bomb, of all things - I've felt... as if we were connected.  As if there's something special between us."

"I know you're special to me, Lois," he responded, but his  eyes were guarded again. "You're the only person I can  remember anything about right now. And back at the  warehouse, when I didn't know what to do, I knew you would  come and rescue me."

He looked down at their hands. He seemed to be hesitating  over what to say, and Lois's heart sank. He was trying to  work out how to let her down gently. The sudden sound of  the telephone ringing startled them both. Lois pulled her  hand free, and got to her feet. "I'd better answer that,"  she said unnecessarily.

By the time she returned, Superman was putting the  finishing touches to two plates of mouth-watering pasta. He  had also had time to remind himself of all the reasons why  starting anything with Lois could prove disastrous. Not  least among those was the reflection that, if it turned out  he wasn't able to follow through a relationship with her  for some reason beyond his control, her already low self- confidence would be shattered.

To his relief, she didn't seem about to pick up where they  had left off. "That was Clark's mother," she announced in  conversational tones, as she sat down. "She seemed rather  upset to hear that he wasn't at home. I do hope nothing's  happened to him... Anyway, she said she had phoned to ask  him if he had any news of you, so I told her you were here.  She was very pleased, and sent her good wishes." Lois  frowned slightly. "I hope she won't say anything to anyone  before tomorrow morning, or we could lose our scoop. But  she must be used to that, with Clark."

She lifted her fork, and dug into the pasta. "Mmm," she  sighed, leaning back with her eyes closed to savour the  first mouthful. "This is heavenly!" She opened her eyes and  grinned. "You know, if someone had told me six hours ago  that I'd be sitting here eating pasta cooked for me by  Superman, I'd have called the funny farm. Why aren't you  eating?"

<I'm enjoying watching you too much.> He said the first  thing that came into his head. "Are Clark and his mother  very close?" He started eating; she was right, it was  pretty good.

"I've only met his parents once. They seem like a very  close family... Clark is an only child, you know. It's odd,  though - we went to Smallville last fall for a story, and  that's the only time I can remember him going home in,  what, eight months? You'd think he'd take a weekend off  occasionally to see them, or at least Thanksgiving and  Christmas." She shook her head. "But we keep talking about  Clark, and about me. You must be anxious to know more about  yourself."

"You're right, I do have a lot of questions. But from the  sound of it, you won't be able to answer many of them. You  never answered my first question."

"What was that?"

"What's my name?"

Lois grimaced. "It's true, I don't know. I christened you  'Superman' in the first article I wrote about you, because  of that 'S' on your costume, and you said it was a good  enough name. You wouldn't answer most personal questions,  so you have only yourself to blame." She glowered at him,  and he smiled ruefully. "Still, you may as well ask me the  rest of your questions. I might be able to help some." She  attacked the pasta again, with gusto.

"Okay. I was wondering if I have a family who would like to  know that I got home safely. Have I ever even met my  family? Did I grow up on Krypton and then come here, or was  I brought up on a space ship on the way here? It could take  years, even generations, to get from Krypton to Earth. I  could even have been raised in... in a tank, or something."

"You're right, those are tough questions," she admitted.  "But I do know one answer. On the day I first met you, a  little girl admired your costume, and you said your mother  made it for you. So you must be in contact with your  mother, or at least it can't be all that long since you've  seen her."

He closed his eyes in relief. At least he wasn't that  alien. "I wish I could remember her."

"You will, soon. Don't doubt it." She laid a reassuring  hand on his arm, and after a moment he met her eyes,  smiling his appreciation. The feel of his warm skin and the  soft hair under her fingers threatened her fragile  equilibrium, however, and she drew her hand away and picked  up her fork again.

They ate in silence for a while. Then Superman began to  muse aloud. "If I was brought up by Kryptonians, I ought to  be able to speak some Kryptonian language. I can speak a  few languages..." He paused for a moment, evidently going  through them in his head. "A *lot* of languages, in fact;  but they're all from Earth. I can't remember any Kryptonian  languages." He looked puzzled; then he shrugged. "Never  mind. Here's a question you should be able to answer. Who  pays me to do this Superman job?"

Lois blinked. "Pays you?" she echoed.

"Yes, I assume I'm employed by the police or someone." He  looked at her in surprise. "Are you saying it's a volunteer  effort - that I'm just a vigilante?"

"I wouldn't have called you a vigilante! But you don't  answer to anyone, or at least not that I'm aware of. You  just... come and help when someone needs you."

"But what do I live on?

She regarded him blankly.

"Come on, Lois, I must get money somehow. I've presumably  got an apartment somewhere in Metropolis, and I have to  eat, and buy Spandex outfits. How do I pay for all that? Do  I have another job? I suppose saving people can't be a  full-time occupation, so I must do something with myself  the rest of the time."

Lois finally got her voice working again. "You don't have  to eat. But you like to." She stared at her plate. "This is  really embarrassing. Not only do I not know the answers,  but in all the time I've known you, I've never even thought  of the questions. Some reporter!" she finished, chagrined.

"I guess you just don't have what it takes -" he said, and  she looked up open-mouthed, "- to be a dirt-digger," he  finished, and grinned impishly at her outraged glare. "Come  on, Lois, don't be so hard on yourself. In the normal way  of things, I'm sure I'm really glad that you respect my  privacy. I know you're a great reporter."

She looked daggers at him for a moment longer, before her  sense of humour got the better of her and she laughed.  "See, your memory's coming back already." She polished off  the last of her food, and pushed the empty plate away with  a sigh. "What we really need is for Clark to come home,"  she said. "He'd probably be able to answer some of your  questions."

"Clark? Why would Clark know?" he asked, puzzled.

"He doesn't talk about it, but he's obviously a close  friend of yours. For one thing, he always seems to be able  to get hold of you when someone wants to talk to you."

"Clark is a *friend* of mine?"

Superman was looking dumbfounded. Lois stared at him,  perplexed. "Yes. Why is that such a surprise?"

"Well, I... I can't remember a thing about him. You'd think  I could remember him if he was such a close friend." He  reflected briefly, then picked his words with care. "I've  been... envying him, you know. He has all the things I'd  like to have. Memories of his childhood, growing up in  Kansas. Concerned parents calling him. A comfortable  apartment, filled with treasures that he's collected all  over the world. A good job with -" He smiled at her. " - a  great partner. I wonder if he knows just how lucky he is."

*****

- Chapter 5 : Phantoms -

Superman swooped down to land on the stage in front of the  cheering crowd. A handsome man in a business suit, whose  welcoming smile didn't quite reach his eyes, stepped  forward to shake hands with Superman and hand over a huge  golden key. Then the businessman stepped forward to the  microphone, and the crowd subsided. "Let the games begin,"  said the businessman.

An eerie hush fell. Everyone was looking expectantly at  Superman, but his prepared speech had vanished from his  mind. The crowd began to shuffle closer, and hands reached  out to clutch at his cape. He retreated a pace and the  crowd muttered, the mood turning ugly, threatening.  Superman turned and tried to lift off into the sky, but  found he couldn't fly. The businessman stood looking at him  with a mocking smile.

Suddenly, pain lanced through Superman's fingers. He lifted  his hand and found the golden key had turned a nauseous,  glowing green. A sickening ache spread through his body. He  fell to his knees, and the businessman roared with derisive  laughter. The business suit turned into a military uniform  and the man's features changed, becoming coarser. A feral  gleam shone in his eyes. He lifted a revolver and shot  Superman through the chest. Superman fell back into the  crowd; hands reached for him and ripped at his costume,  tearing it away to reveal nothing inside. Superman had  disappeared.

*****

Superman sat up abruptly, fighting to escape from the last  lingering shreds of the nightmare. Slowly his breathing  calmed and the peace of the apartment seeped in to soothe  his fears. He lay back on the bed and reached out for his  lost memories.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture his mother. She was  probably dark, like him. He tried to conjure up a  comforting, beloved, dark-haired image... and found himself  thinking of Lois. A wry smile curved his lips, and he held  onto the image for a moment. In his vision his hand came up  to cradle Lois's cheek, just as it had in the kitchen  yesterday evening. Only now, he bent to brush his lips  softly against hers, and then stood up. "Goodbye, Lois."

His eyes flew open. Was that a genuine memory? It didn't  seem to fit in with anything Lois had told him. He would  have to remember to ask her about it.

He closed his eyes and reached out again for his childhood.  He tried to imagine being a small boy, waking in the  morning, full of anticipation for the exciting day ahead -

<-- He ran down the stairs and erupted into the kitchen,  still buttoning his shirt. Mom was standing at the counter  making pancakes, and there was a delicious smell of new  bread in the air. "Mom, where's Dad? He said I could help  him with the ploughing this morning!"

"He's just gone out to see to the fence, honey, there's  plenty of time..." But he was running again before she had  finished. Dad was in the yard, fixing the fence where the  wind had blown it loose. He had just put a nail in position  and was reaching for his hammer.

"Let me help, Dad!" he cried, and struck the nail with his  fist, driving it deep into the wood.

Dad stood up and grabbed his wrist, looking at him grimly.  "How many times must I tell you not to do that, son?" he  asked sternly. "If people find out about you, they'll put  you in a laboratory and dissect you like a frog!"

"Breakfast time, boys!" Mom called from the kitchen door.  He trailed glumly behind Dad, wishing he could remember not  to use his powers. As Dad got to the door, Mom reached out  and gave him a swift hug, and they looked lovingly at each  other for a moment in the warm Kansas sunlight. -->

<Kansas?> Superman opened his eyes and frowned. He sat up  and swung his legs over the side of the bed, and reached  for the photograph of Clark's parents on the bedside table.  Sure enough, the faces matched those in his daydream. He  wasn't recovering his memory; instead, his subconscious was  building phantom memories around what he had heard about  Clark's childhood. Superman's lips set grimly; he put the  photograph down and dropped his face into his hands. Was he  ever going to be a whole person again?

After a minute, he got up and padded quietly through to the  kitchen to get a drink. He splashed some water on his face  and ran his wet hands through his hair to smooth it back,  then filled a glass from the tap. Leaning against the  counter to drink, he looked over to the couch. All he could  see of Lois was a huddle of blankets and a tousled mop of  dark hair. He smiled, remembering how she had been yawning  by the time he had finished the washing up. She had refused  to go home, insisting that he shouldn't be left alone; but  she had also refused to take the bed, pointing out that she  was much smaller than he was, and could sleep more easily  on the couch. Superman reflected that it could have been  awkward if Clark had come home in the middle of the night  and found her in his bed. However, Clark was evidently  still missing, although the sky was nearly light outside.

The phone shrilled, startling him. He put the glass down  quickly and strode over to answer it before it could wake  Lois, but she was already stirring. "Hello, uh... Clark  Kent's apartment."

A woman's voice responded. "Clark, is that you, honey? We  were worried when you didn't phone back last night..."

"I'm afraid Clark isn't here right now," he replied,  awkwardly. "Can I give him a message?"

There was a pregnant pause, and then the woman spoke  hesitantly. "Clark, what... is there someone there? Are you  okay?"

"I'm not... Clark is... I'm just a friend," he stammered,  thoroughly confused. Lois sat up and reached a hand out for  the phone, hissing at him, and he handed it over thankfully  and retired to the kitchen in disarray.

Lois spoke smoothly into the receiver. "This is Lois Lane,  Clark's partner. Clark is out at the moment. Can I help  you?"

"Lois! This is Martha Kent. I was just... is Clark... who  was that who answered the phone?"

"That was Superman, Martha. We, uh, he stayed here last  night. Clark isn't here at the moment. In fact, Martha, I'm  really worried about him..." And somewhat to her own  astonishment, Lois found herself pouring out the story of  Clark's accident two days before, his headache the day  before, and his disappearance without his personal  belongings.

Martha took the recitation surprisingly calmly. "I'm sure  Clark is fine," she assured Lois. "But if you're really  worried about him, why don't you ask Superman to look for  him? I'm sure he could find Clark quickly enough."

"He, uh, well, he can't..." Lois tailed off, thinking  furiously. What possible excuse could she give for  Superman's incapacity?

And indeed, she had finally succeeded in alarming Martha.  "Whatever do you mean?" demanded the older woman, her voice  sharp with worry. "Is there something wrong with Superman?  He didn't sound like himself when he answered the phone  just now. Is he hurt?"

There was an awkward pause. Lois briefly considered telling  Martha that Superman had searched for Clark and failed to  find him, but that would only serve to alarm her further.  Lois sighed and spoke hesitantly. "Superman's not hurt,  exactly. Martha, I probably oughtn't to be telling you  this, because it could be dangerous for him if the wrong  people found out... He has amnesia. He can't remember  anything from before the accident, including how to use his  special abilities."

"Oh my, Lois," Martha exclaimed, clearly more shaken by  this than by anything Lois had said about Clark. "What is  he... what are you going to do?"

Lois told Martha about bringing Superman to Clark's  apartment, and the information she had managed to gather  about amnesia. Martha was relieved to hear that Superman  wouldn't need to consult a doctor, and thoroughly approved  of Lois's plan to have him stay at Clark's place until his  memory returned. She seemed a little surprised, though,  when Lois expressed her hope that Clark would be able to  tell Superman more about himself. It was almost as though  she didn't know the two men were close friends - or perhaps  she didn't think Lois knew.

"I'm quite sure you don't need to worry about Clark," she  said firmly, when Lois reiterated her concern about Clark's  disappearance. "He was supposed to go out and see someone -  an old friend - last night. They probably went on talking  late, and Clark stayed over. You just stick to worrying  about Superman. Clark will turn up soon enough."

By the time Lois hung up, most of her anxiety had been  assuaged. It was quite a relief to be able to share the  tale with someone, she reflected, and she couldn't help  remembering what Superman had said about how lucky Clark  was. She couldn't have spoken to either of her own parents  about her concerns, and if she had, she would never in a  million years have got the kind of support that Martha had  given her. Nevertheless, there had been an odd undertone to  the conversation that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Her train of thought was interrupted by Superman coming  through from the kitchen and handing her a cup of tea. It  wasn't the strong cup of coffee she really needed to jolt  her into life at this time of the morning, but not having  to get up and get it herself more than made up for that. He  had even remembered to put a spoonful of honey in hers this  time. She wrapped her hands around the cup and smiled  warmly at Superman. "Thanks."

She got a small smile in return. "You're welcome," he said,  dropping into the armchair. He was looking tired and  strained, and he had a distinct five-o'clock shadow. He was  wearing a pair of Clark's sleep shorts with last night's T- shirt. Trying not to stare at his muscular legs, Lois felt  a warmth creeping over her that was not wholly due to the  tea.

Superman leaned back and stretched out his legs. "How did  you sleep?" he enquired.

"Okay, I guess." Actually, the narrowness of the couch and  the unfamiliar noises in the apartment had kept her tossing  and turning for much of the night, and she had a bit of a  stiff neck, but she wasn't about to admit that. She ran a  self-conscious hand through her hair. "And you?"

"Quite well, thanks. I had some strange dreams." He paused,  then veered off at an apparent tangent. "Do I know Clark's  parents?"

"I shouldn't think so. I don't think they've been to  Metropolis since Clark moved here. I suppose you could have  visited the farm with Clark." The phrase "take you home to  meet his parents" flashed into Lois's mind, and she  frowned. Where had *that* thought come from?

Superman nodded. He was having difficulty concentrating on  anything except the way Lois looked. Last night, dressed in  bulky, nondescript street clothes, she had been attractive  enough. This morning she was sitting up in her blanket,  still sleep-tousled and wearing an over-large borrowed T- shirt and shorts, and she looked perfectly adorable.  Superman was trying not to look her way, lest he give in to  the temptation to go over to her, gather her into his arms,  and kiss her into oblivion; but he could still see her in  his mind's eye, and his resolution was being sorely tested.

He drained his cup with sudden decision and stood up. "Why  don't I get dressed, while you finish your tea in peace?"  he suggested. "Then I'll make you some breakfast, if you  like." Not waiting for a response, he vanished in the  direction of the bathroom.

Lois blinked. Everyone seemed to be behaving strangely this  morning: first Martha, and now Superman. She snuggled back  into her blanket and tried to make sense of their odd  reactions, but found herself dozing over her tea instead.

*****

By early afternoon, Lois had still had virtually no time to  think. Days off were evidently overrated, she mused wryly,  as she put the finishing touches to her hastily-written  article on the EPRAD press conference and emailed it to  Perry.

She sat back in her chair and savoured another mouthful of  strong Daily Planet newsroom coffee. Coffee and artificial  sweetener had been at the top of her shopping list when she  had sallied forth this morning. True to his word, Superman  had cooked a delicious breakfast of bacon and cheese  omelette, but it had left precious little food in Clark's  kitchen. She had also needed to buy Superman something to  shave with, because a search of Clark's bathroom had turned  up nothing whatsoever in the way of shaving kit. The only  convincing explanation appeared to be that Clark had taken  it with him, although why he should do that and yet leave  his toothbrush behind was yet another in the long list of  puzzles that had surfaced in the last day.

Lois frowned across at her partner's empty chair. She had  still heard nothing from him; although when she had gone  home to change into business clothes before the press  conference she had discovered that she had left her  answering machine turned off, and her cell phone battery  was still flat, which could explain why he hadn't been able  to reach her. It wouldn't have occurred to him to call his  own apartment.

But Lois was discovering that in addition to being puzzled  and worried by Clark's disappearance, she was also quite  simply missing her partner's cheerful presence. The news at  the EPRAD conference, that a large chunk of the Nightfall  Asteroid was set on a direct course for Metropolis, was  extremely disquieting for someone who knew there was no  guarantee that Superman would be able to help out this  time. She would have given a lot just to be able to discuss  the situation with Clark and get his creative input on how  to solve the problem of restoring Superman's memory.  Besides, although Superman had shown the occasional gleam  of an unexpected sense of humour, on the whole he was  worried and withdrawn; and although it was entirely  understandable in the circumstances, Lois could have used a  little of Clark's unfailing optimism and supportiveness.

The door to Perry's office opened, and the editor leaned  out. "Lois, my office, please."

Lois got to her feet and drained the last of her coffee.  "Coming, Chief!"

As she walked into the office, Perry motioned her to a  seat. He was looking grave. "This is bad news we got from  EPRAD, Lois. How is Superman? Any better?"

Lois shook her head. "He doesn't seem to be, Chief. I got  him some press cuttings to read through this morning, and I  called Jimmy and asked him to get together a tape of all  the video footage he could lay his hands on. I'm hoping  that'll trigger Superman's memory. I just wish Clark would  turn up - I'm sure he knows more about Superman than we  do."

"I'm sorry, Lois, I thought you knew already, or I would  have told you sooner," Perry said, looking uncomfortable.  "Clark's mother called earlier. Clark went to visit some  old family friends last night, and one of them had a heart  attack while he was there. He's been at the hospital with  the family, and he isn't going to be able to get away for a  while."

"He *what*?" exclaimed Lois indignantly, all her pent-up  worry turning quickly to exasperation. "Didn't Martha tell  him about Superman? He's a good deal more important right  now than some... some sick person in a hospital! Where can  I get hold of him? I'm going to give him a piece of my  mind!"

"Now, calm down, Lois," said Perry firmly. "Mrs. Kent  didn't say what hospital they're at, and I'm sure Clark is  doing his best in the circumstances. His parents are flying  to Metropolis as soon as they can, and no doubt once they  arrive he'll be able to come and talk to Superman. If you  need some help looking after Superman in the meantime, I  can tell Jimmy to give you a hand..."

Lois brushed off the suggestion hastily. "No, no, Chief -  I'll be fine on my own. It's no trouble at all." "Glad to  hear it," Perry declared. "What are you waiting for, then?  Remember, we're all depending on you." And he ushered Lois  out of his office.

Jimmy was nowhere to be seen, but Lois decided to wait for  the video tape before she went back to Clark's apartment.  It would give her a chance to sort through her thoughts a  little.

She went back to her desk, and started to make a list of  odd things that needed explanation. First of all, she had  noticed again this morning how very familiar Superman  seemed to be with Clark's kitchen. He must spend a lot of  time in Clark's apartment; and yet Clark never mentioned  it. Then there was the fact that Superman couldn't remember  anything about Clark. Could it be that there was something  he didn't want to remember, that he was repressing? She had  also noticed that Martha had seemed surprisingly concerned  about Superman, as though she knew him well. Lois's eyes  narrowed. Being able to fly to Smallville any time he liked  would explain why Clark didn't need to take weekends off to  see his parents. And that habit Clark had of disappearing  at a moment's notice - Superman's schedule would no doubt  be totally unpredictable. Finally, there was something  which had puzzled Lois for a long time: everyone else that  Miranda had sprayed with her perfume had fallen for  *somebody*, but Clark alone had seemed completely  unaffected.

Lois sat back and looked at her list in dismay. All the  evidence was pointing to a single conclusion. A bitter ache  was settling around her heart, but she couldn't give way to  her feelings; everyone was depending on her, even if most  of them didn't know it. She had to face up to this bravely.  When the crisis was past, when Superman was back to normal  and the danger from the Nightfall Asteroid had been  eliminated, she would be free to indulge her emotions.

The question was, should she confront Superman with it? If  he was suppressing this part of himself, it might be a  terrible shock for him. On the other hand, he needed to  know as much as possible about himself if he was going to  get his memory back quickly. The Nightfall Asteroid was not  going to wait.

Lost in her dismal thoughts, Lois was almost shocked when  Jimmy bounced into the newsroom, whistling cheerfully. He  trotted over to Lois's desk and gave her a big grin. "Why  the long face, Lois? You're not worrying about that old  asteroid, are you? Superman will sort it out in no time!"

Lois made an effort to shake off her gloom. "Oh, hi, Jimmy.  No, it's nothing." <Nothing except the fact that Clark has  been lying to me, and that I've been making a complete fool  of myself over Superman for no good reason...> "What have  you got for me?"

"I got the tape you asked for. All the TV news coverage of  Superman I could lay my hands on. I went over to LNN to use  their archives, and guess what?" Jimmy's grin became  positively beatific. "I met their new assistant, and I  asked her out, and she said yes! I've got a hot date  tonight!" And he waved cheerily and trotted away again.

"That's nice, Jimmy," Lois said lamely. She wanted to put  her head down on her desk and howl. Instead, she carefully  tore her list of clues into tiny pieces and dropped them  into the bin. Then she put the video tape into her bag and  headed for the lift.

*****

- Chapter 6 : The Return of Superman -

Superman was dozing in the sun on Clark's balcony when a  familiar sound slowly penetrated his consciousness.  Rhythmic and soothing, it would have been instantly  recognisable among a thousand others. Lois's heartbeat.

Reluctant to wake completely, Superman put his hands behind  his head and stretched, arching his back. The heartbeat  accelerated rapidly, then settled back to a new, faster  rhythm. Superman opened his eyes. At once, the heartbeat  faded and disappeared. Now, all he could hear was the usual  background noise of the city: the distant hum of traffic,  children playing in the alley, an advertising jingle from  the landlord's television set.

Superman sat up on the lounger and looked towards the  apartment. Lois was standing inside, looking through the  picture window. He smiled a greeting, and Lois lifted a  hand in response. A flash of colour in the corner of his  eye caught his attention, and he suddenly remembered he had  taken his shirt off to catch some extra sun. He picked up  the shirt from where it was draped over the back of the  lounger and shrugged it on, then retrieved Lois's scrapbook  from the ground next to him and went inside.

"Hi, Lois," he said, shutting the door. "How -" He  completely forgot what he was going to say as he took in  her appearance: tailored black jacket and crisp white  shirt, short black skirt, and long, slender, nylon-clad  legs. He dragged his gaze back to her face with an effort.  "Wow. You look... Wow."

"Thank you." Lois gave him a tight-lipped smile. A few  hours before she would have been ecstatic at the  compliment, and even now she had to fight against a  traitorous weakness. "I can't quite believe you were  sunbathing at this time of year. It can't be over forty  outside! But I suppose that doesn't bother you."

Superman's brows drew together. Judging from her clipped  tones, Lois was pretty upset about something. Before he  could formulate a response, however, she was speaking  again, eyes fixed on his chin. "You haven't shaved. Is  there a problem with the razor?"

Superman looked guilty and embarrassed, like a small boy  caught stealing apples. "Oh, that. I, uh, broke it."

"Broke it?"

"It wouldn't cut my stubble. The blade broke."

"Oh." She grimaced. "I suppose we should have expected  that. I wonder how you shave normally? I guess we'll have  to wait till your memory comes back to find out." Her gaze  dropped to the scrapbook in his hand. "Did the newspaper  articles help at all?"

He shrugged. "The stories all seemed familiar, as though  I'd read the articles before. But they didn't trigger any  memories. I can see what you mean about your and Clark's  writing styles, though. His style is more emotional, yours  is more logical and hard-hitting. The pieces you write  together are brilliant."

This conversation was rapidly getting to be too much for  Lois. She turned away and started to fill the kettle. "I'm  going to make some coffee, want some?"

"Yes, thanks. Lois, are you okay? You seem upset."

"No, I'm fine. I just had a bit of a tough day. I'll tell  you about it later." <When I've decided how much to tell  you.> She finished putting the kettle on and then walked  over to where she'd left her bag on the coffee table. She  fished the video tape out. "I got Jimmy to collect some of  the news footage about you from the last year. Why don't  you watch it while I make the coffee?"

Superman would rather have found out what was bothering  Lois, but she didn't seem in any mood to talk, so he sat  down obediently in front of the television.

He seemed unimpressed by the first few video clips,  although Lois saw him wince at the explosion of the remote- controlled bomb. But when Lois brought the two mugs of  coffee over and sat down in the armchair, Superman was  sitting hunched forward with his eyes riveted on the  screen.

The clip was showing Superman receiving the key to the city  of Metropolis. As it ended Superman picked up the remote to  rewind a couple of minutes. "Lois, who's this guy who had  the key before me?"

"That's Lex Luthor," Lois answered, sipping cautiously at  her coffee. "Do you remember him?"

Superman shut off the tape and muted the television set.  "Lex Luthor. Let's see: head of Luthor Industries,  millionaire businessman, philanthropist and playboy - if I  remember what I read in your scrapbook this morning?"

Lois nodded. "That's right. What about him?"

"He's your mystery crime boss."

Lois nearly choked on her mouthful of coffee. She set the  mug down carefully. "What do you mean by that?"

"He's the one behind those time trials, with that woman  'falling' from the roof, and the bomb that was set as a  trap for me. He's also behind most of the organised crime  in the city."

Lois shot to her feet. "But, Superman, he funds half the  charities in Metropolis... and most of the research, too!"

"I'm sure it comes in very handy for him, Lois. It keeps  the press off his back, for a start."

Lois winced. Clark had warned her against Luthor before,  but she had always dismissed his words as blind prejudice.  Could she have been the one who was blind? Of course, he  hadn't actually said, 'Lex Luthor tried to kill Superman.'  But would she have listened even if he had? "You can't  remember anything else. What makes you think you're  remembering this correctly?"

"I remembered you as soon as I heard your voice, and I knew  I could trust you. I'm just as certain about Luthor. I  remembered as soon as I saw his face."

Her eyes wavered, and she sighed. "Do you have any proof?"

"If I had proof, I imagine I'd have done something about it  before now. But there's no doubt in my mind."

Lois nodded, and sank back into her chair. "Well, we'll  have to get proof." She picked up her coffee again. "Is  there anything else you want to set me straight about?" she  enquired, with an acid edge.

Superman eyed her cautiously. "Well, I had a dream last  night," he said. "I'd forgotten about it until now. Luthor  was in it, and so was someone else; and there was a glowing  green substance, which made me weak and ill. It must have  been that kryptonite you wrote the article about. It must  be real."

He picked up the scrapbook and flipped through it at a  remarkable speed. "Here it is," he said. He peered closely  at the grainy photograph of Jason Trask. "This looks like  the guy. In my dream, he shot me."

He looked at Lois, and was alarmed to see that she had  buried her face in her hands. He dropped the scrapbook and  leaned over to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What  is it, Lois?"

She lifted her face and drew a ragged breath. "I'm just...  having to rethink one thing after another. For a hot-shot  reporter, I seem to have been incredibly blind over the  last few months."

There was a pause while he digested her words. "This isn't  just about Luthor and the kryptonite, is it?" he hazarded.

Lois grimaced. He was altogether too perceptive. "No, it  isn't," she admitted. "I worked something out today, that I  should have realised long ago." She stood up again  restlessly, refusing to look at him. "The thing is, I think  it may be a memory you're repressing, so perhaps I  shouldn't tell you - it might be too much of a shock. On  the other hand, it might have the opposite effect, and  bring your memory back - so I don't know what to do."

By this time she was pacing back and forth, wringing her  hands together. Superman got up and stood in her way,  forcing her to halt, and grasped her shoulders with both  hands. "Just tell me, please," he requested.

"Well, it was obvious when you were cooking how well you  know Clark's kitchen. You clearly spend a lot of time here.  It explains why the two of you are close. And it explains  why Clark is always running off like that..."

"Lois!"

Lois sighed and fixed her gaze on the middle of his chest.  "I think he goes to meet you," she said haltingly. "I think  the two of you are... a couple."

"A couple."

"Yes." She couldn't bear to look at him. How would he take  it - blank denial? Calm agreement, spelling the final end  to all the hopes she had cherished of a relationship  between them? Or - perhaps worst of all - the same stricken  look she had seen on his face last night?

"You mean, I'm gay?"

Lois nodded, finally lifting her gaze to meet his. To her  astonishment, his face was alight with warm laughter.

"Lois, I'm *not* gay," he said, with complete conviction.

"How can you be so sure?" she challenged.

The amusement left his face, though the warmth remained.  "Because of this," he said. His right hand left her  shoulder to cup her cheek, and he lowered his face to hers.

The first brush of his lips was feather-light, and he  raised his head briefly to gauge her reaction. Wide-eyed,  she lifted her face for his second kiss. This time his  mouth was warm and firm on hers, exploring and tasting her  sweetness. All conscious thought fled from her mind, and  she wound her arms about his waist and arched her body  against his. His left hand caressed her back gently, and  she shivered. Her mouth opened beneath his, inviting him to  deepen the kiss, and he responded with enthusiasm. Greatly  daring, she slipped a hand beneath the hem of his shirt to  caress the warm, soft skin of his back, exploring the  steel-hard muscles beneath. He growled deep in his throat  and stroked his hand down the side of her neck to push her  jacket collar aside; then his mouth left hers to trail  fiery kisses down her neck and into the hollow of her  shoulder.

At her gasp of protest he lifted his head instantly and  released her. He would have moved away, but she held onto  him and lifted a hand to his cheek. "We have to do  something about that stubble," she said huskily, her eyes  still dark with passion.

He smiled with mingled relief and apology. "I'm sorry," he  murmured, capturing her hand and kissing her fingers  gently.

"Don't be." She snuggled her cheek into his chest, closing  her eyes blissfully, and he wrapped his arms around her and  held her in a close and comforting embrace.

As Lois became aware of their surroundings once more, it  occurred to her to wonder why she was lying on top of him,  when previously they had been standing. She lifted her head  to look about her, and saw the couch several feet below  them. "Oh my God, we're flying!" she exclaimed. The next  moment the room was whirling about them as they plummeted  to the floor, landing heavily in a tangle of arms and legs.

Superman lay stunned for a moment before he collected  himself and scrambled to his feet, bending solicitously  over her. "Lois, are you all right?" he asked urgently.

Lois flexed her limbs one by one, expecting the pain to hit  her at any moment, but everything seemed normal. "I seem to  be fine," she said, sitting up cautiously. "That's an  impressive party trick, big guy." She started to get up,  and he quickly helped her to her feet. He would have lifted  her into a chair, but she waved away his assistance. "I'm  fine, Superman, really." Nevertheless, she found her legs  were rather shaky, so she subsided into the armchair,  picking up her coffee. She sipped it and made a face. "Ugh,  it's cold."

"I'll heat it up for you," he offered immediately, taking  her cup and picking up his own. It took him a few moments  to work out how to do that: the microwave, of course. When  the coffee was hot he tasted his and added a couple of  extra spoons of sugar before carrying them back to the  living area.

The pause had given Lois a chance to collect her thoughts.  The fall had brought her back to earth in more senses than  one. She had just experienced the most passionate kiss of  her entire life, and it shocked her to realise the extent  to which it had overwhelmed her. She knew that if Superman  had taken things further, she would have done anything he  had wanted, without a second's thought. What was she doing,  losing her head so completely over someone whom, as he  himself had pointed out, she barely knew? Sure, she had  been fantasising about him since the day she had first met  him, but her fantasies seemed to revolve around gentle  kisses with sunsets and violins in the background, not  mindless passion. Besides, a few minutes ago she had been  convinced that he was having an affair with her partner and  best friend. A sense of helpless confusion welled up inside  her, and she had to quell a moment of blind panic. There  was still too much at stake to lose control.

Superman handed her her steaming mug and seated himself on  the couch near her. He met her eyes uncertainly. "Lois -"  he began and stopped, not sure how to proceed.

She spoke quickly to forestall him. "Superman, this  probably isn't the right time to be talking about ... our  feelings. Let's wait till you have your memory back." She  smiled shakily. "After all, I still don't even know your  name!"

He nodded his agreement. "I wanted to say something like  that. Thank you, Lois."

As he leant back and took a gulp of coffee, the television  caught his eye. A news broadcast had just begun and,  inevitably, the first item was about the Nightfall  Asteroid. Superman reached for the remote and turned the  sound on. His face turned grim as he absorbed the news that  the threat from the asteroid was far from over.

When the announcer went on to the next item, he turned the  television off. "So that's what your news conference was  about," he said heavily.

Lois nodded, and filled him in on the details. "They  mentioned that they hadn't heard from you since you got  back. But they think they can handle it without you this  time. They're modifying an Asgard rocket to take a nuclear  bomb up and destroy it."

Superman shook his head angrily. "That's no solution," he  said. "The whole earth will get showered with radioactive  fallout. They just want an excuse to test their nukes."

Lois smiled. "You refused to use nuclear charges yesterday  because of the fallout risk," she said. "I agree with you  completely. The question is, what are we going to do about  it?"

He shrugged. "I guess the first thing is to find out  whether I can fly when I put my mind to it. If I can't fly,  there's not much I can do." He stood up and walked to a  clear area of floor. Then he took a few deep breaths,  closed his eyes and tried to levitate. Nothing happened. He  tried again with his eyes open, with as little result.

He glanced self-consciously at Lois, who was watching him  with interest. Looking away again, he let himself remember  what it had felt like, kissing her earlier. Almost at once,  he was suffused with a feeling of joy and lightness. He  bent his knees, and his feet lifted clear of the floor. "So  much for jumping off," he commented, grinning. "Now what do  I do?"

Lois had been holding her breath, but she laughed at that,  and applauded. It broke his concentration and he dropped to  the floor, but this time he was able to lift off again with  little trouble. He managed to push himself off and float up  to the ceiling, where he pushed himself down again. He  spent a little while getting used to floating back and  forth, then concentrated on trying to move under his own  steam. Remembering the gesture he had seen repeatedly on  television, he thrust one fist in front of him, and was  barely able to stop himself smashing into the far wall of  the living room. As it was, several flakes of paint fell.

"Oops," he said. "Clark's not going to like me destroying  his apartment. Have you heard from Clark, by the way?"

As Lois told him about Martha's phone call to Perry,  Superman continued to exercise his newly-rediscovered  skills. By the time she concluded, he was able to control  his movements reliably, and could turn and stop in mid-air.  A few minutes later he discovered he could walk upside down  on the ceiling, and Lois couldn't help but chuckle at the  expression of innocent glee on his face. He turned and  flashed a mischievous smile at her. "This is great fun, you  should try it," he said, walking over to a point above the  couch and extending a hand down to her. "Want a hand up?"

Lois laughed. "Not in this skirt!" she exclaimed.

Superman's smile faded. "No, you're probably right," he  replied, and turned to give his attention to walking down  the wall, but not before Lois had seen the colour creeping  into his cheeks.

As he successfully negotiated the last step from the wall  to the floor, there was a knock on the door. They both  froze for a moment, then Lois got to her feet. "I'd better  answer it," she said. "It could be Clark at last."

When she opened the door, however, Martha and Jonathan were  standing there, both looking tired and strained. "Hi,  Martha," Lois said in surprise. "Perry said you were coming  to Metropolis, but we didn't expect you so soon!"

"A lot of people cancelled their flights to Metropolis  after EPRAD released the latest news about the asteroid,"  Martha explained, giving Lois a swift hug. "The plane was  half empty." She swept past Lois and paused at the top of  the steps as she saw Superman standing in the living room.  Then she headed down the steps towards him.

Behind Lois, Jonathan cleared his throat. Lois turned to  greet him, suddenly realising that, laden down with two  large suitcases, he couldn't get past her. By the time  Jonathan had manoeuvred the suitcases through the door and  Lois had closed it, Martha had seated herself and Superman  on the couch, and was asking after his progress.

Superman was feeling thoroughly confused. When Martha had  first seen him, her face had lit up and she had hastened  towards him. For a moment he had expected her to hug him  but, to his disappointment, she had contented herself with  clasping his hand warmly between both of hers and  introducing herself. Now, in spite of his natural  inclination to conceal himself from strangers, he was  experiencing a strong urge to confide completely in Martha.  He compromised by answering her questions truthfully but  briefly. She seemed pleased at the news that he had  succeeded in retrieving a few facts from his memory, and  delighted that he had worked out how to fly again; and she  expressed her firm conviction that the rest would follow  soon.

As Lois joined them, Martha turned to her. "I'm sorry I  couldn't get hold of you earlier, to give you the good news  about Clark," she said. "We were in such a hurry to pack  and go that I only had time to speak to Mr. White."

"Oh, that's no problem," Lois reassured her. "You must be  very worried about your friends. I thought you'd go  straight there."

"They're still at the hospital," Martha explained. "George  is in intensive care. Clark said we should come here, and  he'll come and pick us up later, when he can get away." Her  face was slightly flushed, and she stood up to take off her  coat and scarf. She handed them to Jonathan, who had just  finished putting the suitcases in Clark's bedroom.

Jonathan hung Martha's things up and then brought a dining  chair over to sit on. He was looking grave. "Tell us about  this asteroid," he requested. "Are you going to be able to  do anything about it, s... Superman?"

"I hope so," Superman said. He hesitated, wondering how  much to say, and Lois took over, telling the Kents about  the plan to use nuclear warheads to break up the asteroid,  and the risk of fallout.

"At least Superman's worked out how to fly," she concluded,  "but I don't know what else he'll need to deal with the  asteroid."

Jonathan grunted thoughtfully. "When are they planning to  launch the rocket?" he asked.

"Tomorrow evening," Lois answered.

"So you'll have to go some time tomorrow," Jonathan said.  "How long will it take you to fly up there?"

There was an uncomfortable pause. "I've no idea," Superman  said.

"Well, how long did it take yesterday?" Jonathan asked.

Superman looked helplessly at Lois. "About three hours,"  she said. "But he didn't take a straight course. He had to  go round the side to get to its weak point."

"Well, say one to two hours, then," Jonathan said. "That  means it'll take at least half an hour each way tomorrow.  You'll need oxygen."

"Good point," said Superman. "Lois, where can I get oxygen  from?"

Lois was staring at Jonathan with astonishment and dawning  respect, but she quickly pulled herself together. "EPRAD  gave you a tank yesterday," she said. "I suppose we could  just get a scuba tank somewhere, but it would seem a bit  odd."

Jonathan nodded. "Then you'd better go to EPRAD in the  morning," he said. "I hope they can think of a better  scheme this time than having you smash into the asteroid  and hurt yourself." Behind the glasses, his eyes were  anxious.

"It's a lot smaller now," Superman said reflectively. "It  should be easier just to divert it from its current course.  But I can't very well go to EPRAD looking like this - I  need to find out how to shave first. I can't use a normal  razor," he added, for the Kents' benefit. "My stubble seems  to be invulnerable."

An odd silence fell. Looking up, Lois noticed Martha and  Jonathan gazing fixedly at each other. If it was a battle  of wills, Jonathan evidently lost, because he finally  sighed softly and looked at Superman. "You use your heat  vision to shave," he said. "You bounce it off a mirror onto  your chin."

Lois's jaw dropped.

"Superman has stayed with us at the farm," Martha said,  almost apologetically. "That's how we know."

"I'm going to have to learn how to use my heat vision  before tomorrow, then," said Superman, filing that snippet  of information away for later. "But I'm also going to need  a costume to wear."

"Why, what happened to the one you were wearing yesterday?"  asked Martha.

"It's filthy, and the cape is half burned away," Superman  explained.

Martha and Jonathan exchanged another look. This time,  Martha's eyes dropped first. "Well, we can wash the suit,"  she said. "And I'm sure we'll be able to find a cape  somewhere. If necessary, we can hire one from a costume  shop." She got up resolutely. "I'll put the suit in the  wash now. Jonathan, why don't you see if you can help  Superman with his heat vision?"

Over the ensuing couple of hours, Lois was deeply impressed  at the efficiency with which the Kents organised matters.  Martha put on a load of washing and inspected the cape,  declaring it a write-off. Then she unearthed a can of red  shoe polish from somewhere in Clark's kitchen, and  succeeded in restoring a passable shine to Superman's  boots. After that she turned her attention to the subject  of food, and in no time at all had whipped up an amazingly  delicious vegetable soup from the contents of Clark's  fridge, followed by a couple of pizzas that Lois had bought  frozen that morning.

Meanwhile, Jonathan took a large cooking pot with a couple  of inches of water in it and placed it on the living-room  floor on a layer of newspaper; then he patiently coached  Superman in trying to heat up the water with his heat  vision. It took some time before anything happened, but  when Jonathan suggested he think angry thoughts the water  finally hissed and sent a small geyser shooting up to soak  the newspaper. Shortly after that, Superman was able to  turn his heat vision on at will, and Jonathan set him to  lighting a candle and then toasting a slice of bread, to  practise his focus. Finally, with the aid of a small mirror  that Martha located somewhere, Superman managed to give  himself a respectable shave.

Lois had offered to help Martha with the food, but when she  confessed to very little cooking ability Martha laughed and  suggested that Lois help by talking to her while she  worked. Lois asked her about George and his family, but  Martha said very little about them. Instead, she drew Lois  out on the subject of how she had found Superman the  previous evening, and then encouraged her to talk about her  work with Clark. "Clark tells us about his work, but it's  interesting to hear your perspective," she explained.

When Lois asked her about Superman's visits to the farm,  though, Martha grew uncomfortable. "We don't talk about it  much," she said awkwardly. "If it gets to be known who  Superman's friends are... well, anyone who's close to him  would be at risk from people who want to hurt him."

Lois nodded. "I know - I've been thrown out of a plane by  someone who wanted to trap him," she pointed out. "But I'd  already worked out that Superman must fly Clark to the farm  sometimes. It explains why he never takes a weekend off to  go to Kansas."

Martha eyed her with respect, and a hint of alarm. "I see,"  she said.

Lois bridled. "You don't have to worry about me printing  anything that could harm Superman, or you," she said  stiffly.

"Oh, honey, I know that!" Martha assured her hastily. "If  you hadn't been here for him last night... it's just that,  well, if you've worked that out..." Her voice tailed off,  and she turned away to check on the soup.

"Other people might work it out too?" Lois suggested.  Martha tasted the soup and then nodded as she added a  little more seasoning. "I don't think you need to worry,  Martha. I know Clark better than most people, and I still  didn't realise how close they were until I saw Superman  here, in Clark's apartment."

Martha finally turned back to meet Lois's eyes. "I hope  you're right," she said, evidently still troubled by the  turn in the conversation.

Lois screwed up her courage, looking over her shoulder to  check that Jonathan and Superman were still absorbed in  their experimentation. "Martha, is Clark gay?" she asked  quietly. "Are he and Superman... a couple?"

Martha's jaw dropped, and she stared at Lois with wide eyes  for several seconds. Her mouth quirked, but if she was  tempted to laugh then she managed to suppress it. She shook  her head vehemently. "No, Lois, they aren't," she said  firmly. "I can see why you might think that, but they  definitely aren't. And he isn't."

"Oh," said Lois, embarrassed. She couldn't think of  anything to add.

There was an awkward silence, then Martha reached out and  took Lois's hand. "Lois," she said, and waited until Lois  met her eyes. "You bring your children up as best you can,"  Martha said. "But when they're grown up, they make their  own decisions. And you have to support them, even when you  might prefer to do something different."

Lois waited for her to continue, but she seemed to have  finished. "I don't think I have the faintest idea what  you're talking about," Lois said apologetically.

Martha laughed, and patted Lois's hand. "I don't suppose  you do," she said. "But I think one day you will, and then  I hope you'll remember what I said." She stood up abruptly  and started serving dinner.

By the time everyone had eaten, Lois was feeling physically  and emotionally exhausted. It seemed as though, with the  Kents' help, Superman would be able to tackle the asteroid  in the morning; and there was no telling when Clark would  arrive. Yawning, Lois announced her intention of going home  to get a good night's sleep. It seemed almost as though  Martha and Jonathan were relieved at the idea, but Lois  decided her imagination must be playing tricks on her.  Martha hugged her warmly and promised that either she or  Clark would call Lois in the morning to let her know what  was going on.

Jonathan forestalled Superman's offer to walk Lois to her  car, pointing out that he might be recognised. Superman was  disappointed by the lack of opportunity for a few moments  alone with Lois, but he contented himself with smiling  warmly at her as she said good night.

As the front door closed behind Lois and Jonathan, Superman  thanked Martha for the meal and began to clear away the  dishes. Martha sat quietly, her tension almost palpable,  until the door opened to readmit Jonathan; at his nod she  finally relaxed slightly and spoke. "Superman, would you  mind leaving those dishes a minute?" she asked. "Come and  sit down again."

Superman obligingly came back to the table, looking  curiously from Martha to Jonathan.

Jonathan cleared his throat. "We have something to tell  you, son..."

*****

- Chapter 7 : Two Plus Two Plus Two Equals... -

Lois snapped all the locks on her front door shut and  fastened the chain. Then she dropped her bag on the floor,  cast herself face down on the couch, closed her eyes, and  finally let herself relive that kiss. That glorious,  amazing, soul-shattering kiss. The mere memory made her  tingle all over, left her breathing heavily and her heart  beating fast.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and sat up. <You can't  afford to think with your hormones. You have to work out  what you're doing.> She doubled her legs up and hugged her  knees, resting her chin on them as she sorted through the  events and discoveries of the last day.

Superman had demonstrated conclusively that he was  attracted to her. But that didn't necessarily mean that he  wasn't having some sort of relationship with Clark. He  could be bisexual. It could even be normal for Kryptonians  - who could say? If he and Clark were... lovers... and at  the same time he was attracted to Lois, he could be feeling  very guilty about it. That could explain why he was  repressing his memories of Clark. And she of all people  ought to be able to sympathise with him...

It was time to face up to the fact she had been refusing to  think about ever since she had admitted it to Superman last  night. She was attracted to Clark. In love with Clark? No,  that couldn't be true, because she was equally strongly  attracted to Superman, and she couldn't be in love with two  men at the same time... could she?

Turbulent emotions - confusion, guilt, panic - came  bubbling to the surface, and Lois leapt to her feet and  started to pace. How long had she been harbouring these  feelings for Clark? Well, to be honest, the physical  attraction had been there since the very start. (Once again  the image of a lean, muscular body clad only in a towel  obtruded, and once again she thrust it away.) But it had  been easy to ignore. Lois Lane, dedicated career-woman,  well on the way to the top of her chosen profession, didn't  trust men and didn't need them in her life.

Only somehow, in the intervening months, Clark had snuck  past her carefully-constructed defences. She did trust him,  both as a partner and as a friend; and although she  wouldn't go so far as to say she needed him, she had  discovered how enjoyable it was to work with him. The few  leisure hours they had spent together had been equally  pleasurable. Clark had seen some of her least endearing  qualities - her competitiveness, her sharp tongue, her bad  temper - and they didn't seem to worry him. He was  intelligent, witty, charming and, to quote Cat Grant, a  "really cute guy". By any normal standards, if you left  Superman out of the equation, Clark would come close to  being her ideal man.

Lois sighed. She couldn't leave Superman out of the  equation. Even if Martha was right, and there was no  relationship between Clark and Superman - and mothers, even  if they were as loving and concerned as Martha, didn't  necessarily know everything about their children - that  still left Lois's own feelings for Superman. And his  feelings for her, whatever they might be.

Her shoulders were knotting up, and Lois decided she needed  a good soak in a hot tub. It would relax her and help her  to think. She poured a generous amount of bath salts under  the running water and sat watching the bath fill, letting  her mind empty. Then she undressed and sank gratefully into  the hot water, letting it soothe some of the tension away.

The last twenty-four hours had made it very clear to her  how very little she really knew about the real Superman,  the man beneath the cape. She hesitated to think that her  feelings for him were based purely on blind hero-worship,  but besides her admiration for his selfless courage and  nobility of purpose, it was difficult to say why she felt  so drawn to him. On the other hand, the glimpses she had  caught of his real nature, beneath the confusion and  insecurity caused by his loss of memory, had shown her a  generous and gentle man with a wicked sense of humour. It  only served to confirm her intuitive conviction that the  real Superman was someone she would really like to get to  know better.

What would it be like to date the "god in a cape"? Between  her job's long hours and his job's unpredictable demands,  she didn't know how much time they would be able to find  together, but what would happen if they decided to try it?  She couldn't imagine going to a movie with him. Even going  out for a meal would be fraught with difficulty. She  imagined the stares, the whispers, the flashes of the  paparazzi's cameras. The headlines: 'Man of Steel meets his  match'. 'Top reporter snares Superhero'. She grimaced. The  gossip columns would have a field day every time he rescued  another woman, or gave an exclusive to another journalist.  Her face would be plastered all over the tabloids, and it  would affect her ability to do her job. And every criminal  who wanted to get to Superman would target her, just as  Martha had said.

No, they would have to stay out of sight. They would spend  time alone together, at her place or at his, wherever that  was. Or he could fly them to romantic and out-of-the-way  spots. But they would have to conceal their feelings for  each other in public, and they would be constantly fearful  of being found out. Lois frowned: it sounded like a  miserable way of life. Superman himself didn't seem to be  too happy about his status as a celebrity - he had  criticised his media image, and had even expressed envy for  Clark's modest but fulfilling lifestyle.

The hot tub was starting to soothe the knots out of her  neck. Lois sighed and rolled her head back amid the  bubbles. She didn't take the time for this sort of  relaxation nearly often enough. Why, the last time she'd  had a long hot soak had been... in the honeymoon suite at  the Lexor Hotel. And it had led to three days holed up  there with Clark.

Clark Jerome Kent. What would it be like to date Clark?  Assume they could manage to extend their easy working  relationship into their private lives. Well, *they*  wouldn't have any trouble going out to a movie, or for a  meal. They had had a surprising amount of fun together at  the Smallville Corn Festival, and equally so when they had  been stuck together on stake-out in the Lexor. Lois smiled  - a romantic relationship would certainly add interest to  future stake-outs, and to long evenings spent working  together. They wouldn't have a problem finding enough time  to be together. Of course, she would have to break Clark of  his habit of running off at odd times, or at least find out  where he went to...

True, a relationship with Clark wouldn't have the added  excitement of knowing she was dating the world's most  powerful man, a superhero who spent his time rescuing  people from deadly danger, battling natural disasters and  criminal masterminds. Nor could Clark take her flying,  swooping and diving amidst the clouds, or hovering  spellbound in the night sky above the lights of Metropolis.  But those were superficial considerations compared with  being able to share your life with someone. Besides, Clark  did his fair share of fighting corruption and injustice in  his job, just as she did. She even had to concede some  reluctant admiration for his boy-scout sense of ethics,  however inconvenient it was at times.

Lois groaned and covered her face with her hands. She was  being forced to the unwelcome conclusion that she had spent  the last few months making a complete idiot of herself over  the wrong man. But even if Clark was as wonderful as her  imagination was painting him, she was still weaving  daydreams out of moonshine; he had made it perfectly clear  that he simply wasn't interested in her. He couldn't  possibly have faked his lack of response to her after he  had been sprayed with the pheromone compound. On the other  hand, when Superman was in his right mind he had never  given her the slightest encouragement either, in spite of  her blatant pursuit of him - so where did that leave her?

<Alone in your apartment,> her inner voice whispered. She  quashed it angrily, and got out of the rapidly cooling  bath. She got dressed in sensible flannel pyjamas and  belted her robe around her, then headed for the kitchen for  some additional therapy.

Some minutes later, she was sitting with a cup of coffee  and a bowl of Rocky Road in front of her, and a renewed  sense of determination. She had managed to get clarity -  too much clarity, in fact - about her own feelings, but she  had no answers to the choices she faced. It was time to  stop worrying about her emotional life, and turn her mind  to the questions that Superman had raised last night: the  questions she should have been asking months ago. The kind  of questions she answered for a living.

Who was Superman? Where did he come from, and who had sent  him? He spoke perfect American English, and himself had  pointed out that he knew a large number of other Earth  languages; but he couldn't remember any Kryptonian  language. Yet he must have been in contact with his mother  recently. Being sent to Earth to "help" sounded like an  official military or diplomatic mission; but if so, why  would his mother be making a costume for him?

What other information had she gleaned from him over the  past twenty-four hours? He was terrified of hospitals. That  didn't make any sense at all; what would an invulnerable  alien have to fear from a hospital?

Another strange thing was his reaction last night, when she  had told him he wasn't human. He had been shocked and  horrified. Why would a Kryptonian, whose physiology was so  obviously superior to that of humans, mind being non-human?  He had also used the term "alien" with marked distaste: a  very human attitude, but surprising for someone who had  been brought up on another planet.

Unless... he hadn't been brought up on another planet. What  if he had been brought up right here, on Earth, trying to  blend in with everyone else? That would fit... He would  have had his entire childhood to learn languages, and  perhaps when he was small he would have been taught to stay  away from hospitals, so that they didn't find out there was  something strange about him. In that case, he had been  right - he did have an anxious family somewhere, who would  want to know how he was. But why hadn't they tried to  contact him? They would doubtless know that he spent time  with Clark, but Martha was the only person who had phoned  Clark.

Lois slowly put down her spoon in the empty bowl and  wrapped her hands around her coffee mug.

Martha was the only person who had phoned Clark. Martha and  Jonathan had dropped everything and rushed to Metropolis,  but instead of heading for their friend's bedside, they had  spent the evening looking after Superman. Jonathan had  spent hours coaching him in the use of his heat vision.

What if Superman hadn't been brought up by his real  parents, but adopted by a human couple? He would grow up  wanting to be just like them, and be upset at the thought  of being an alien. When he decided to go public and start  helping people, his adoptive mother - Martha - would make  him an outlandish costume so that he seemed exotic and  alien, and nobody questioned where he had been brought up.

That would make him Clark's brother. Of course! It finally  explained their close relationship, and why Martha had been  so flabbergasted when Lois had suggested they were a gay  couple. And why she had talked about supporting one's  children's decisions.

Lois sipped her coffee thoughtfully. It even explained why  Clark and Superman looked alike. Then she winced - that had  to be the stupidest thought she'd ever had. Superman was an  alien from Krypton, and Clark... Clark really did look  remarkably like Superman, except for his glasses and his  hairstyle.

No, it was ludicrous! She'd seen Clark get a paper cut, and  he'd exerted all his strength to win her a teddy bear at  the Smallville Corn Festival. She still had that teddy.  She'd named him Jerome. Lois stood up and walked through to  her bedroom, picking up the little bear from the shelf  beside her bed and staring at him.

They had gone to Smallville to investigate a case of  bureaucratic bungling, and they had come back with a story  about Jason Trask and a mythical mineral called kryptonite.  Only, Superman had said it wasn't mythical, it was real. It  had made him "weak and ill."

The first evening in Smallville, Lois had come downstairs  to find Clark's parents hovering around him, and Clark  himself looking as sick as a dog. He had said it was  allergies, but he had never suffered from allergies before  or since. He hadn't even had a cold all winter.

Lois sank onto the bed, still staring unseeingly at Jerome.  Her mind was whirling.

Nobody in Smallville, not Sheriff Rachel "tush-push"  Harris, not even that nosy waitress at the cafeteria - what  was her name? - who had known all about Lois's romance  novel, had ever mentioned Clark having a brother. Lois  herself had slept in Clark's old bedroom, a tiny room with  just enough space for a single bed. The farmhouse had no  third bedroom.

Clark's clothes fitted Superman perfectly. Clark had been  unaffected by the pheromone compound. Clark had been  unaffected by the heatwave in November. Clark had left the  Daily Planet the night before Superman had to leave  Metropolis. Clark was always disappearing at a moment's  notice, generally just before Lois needed him to help her  on a big story... involving Superman.

Clark Kent, her highly esteemed partner, the only person  she trusted enough to get this close to - this *attached*  to, damn him - had been laughing up his sleeve at her, ever  since he first met her.

Lois glared at the teddy in her hand with sudden loathing,  and flung him to the floor with all her might. "You... you  slimeball!" she snarled. She got up, walked over to him,  and kicked him from her bedroom clear out into the kitchen.  "Ratfink!" she shouted. She stalked out after him, and  kicked him into the living room. "Low-down, rotten pond- scum!" she yelled. That one hurt her throat. She kicked  Jerome all the way back into the bedroom, muttering  imprecations under her breath and savagely planning what  she was going to do to Clark when she got hold of him.  Finally she picked Jerome up and deposited him  unceremoniously in the bin. Then she collapsed face-down on  the bed.

She couldn't do anything to Clark. He was invulnerable.

Lois had spent nearly eight months working side-by-side  with Superman, and she hadn't noticed. He put on a pair of  glasses and restyled his hair, and she was completely  fooled. She had just spent most of the last twenty-four  hours with Clark, in his own apartment, wearing his own  clothes, and she hadn't recognised him even then.

Words she had said to Clark, back when he first started  working with her, came floating back to her. "I think I've  got you figured out... That's my business, looking beyond  the external." And "Clark is the 'before', Superman is the  'after'... make that the 'way, way after'." Lois groaned  bitterly. She had certainly given him plenty to laugh  about. No doubt he'd be laughing some more when he regained  his memory, and thought about the things she had said to  him last night. "Mister Green Jeans." "Wide-eyed country  boy." She had said he was very good-looking, and even  admitted that she was attracted to him. And then, this  afternoon, she had kissed him... Lois moaned in an agony of  humiliation.

After a few minutes of vain self-recrimination, she rolled  over and sat up with sudden decision. Any self-respecting  planet would have opened and swallowed her up, but since  this one obviously wasn't going to oblige, there was only  one thing to do. She marched through to the kitchen, picked  up her ice cream bowl and dumped it in the sink. Then she  collected her spoon, opened the freezer and removed the ice  cream carton, sat down at the counter and tucked in.

Clark had kissed her this afternoon, so he was attracted to  her after all. He must have faked Superman's response to  the pheromone, meaning he'd wanted to kiss her then, too.  But he had obviously decided that he wasn't going to do  anything about it, either as Clark or as Superman. He must  know he had only to crook his little finger and she'd come  running, so the only logical conclusion was that he simply  wasn't interested in a relationship with her. Her character  flaws must have put him off after all. What had she said to  him last night - "I don't think I'm good happy-ever-after  material"? He'd denied it then, but it was obviously true.

And he didn't trust her with his secret. Perhaps he was  scared that Mad Dog Lane would publish it to get herself a  Pulitzer. She would have liked to think he knew her better  than that! Perhaps he would reconsider after the way she'd  protected him yesterday. What kind of friendship could they  have if he was lying to her? Her heart contracted: so many  lies. Lies about fake errands that he needed to run, fake  interviews with Superman, fake reasons for knowing little  bits of information that he'd doubtless found out with his  superpowers. The lies hurt even more than knowing he wasn't  interested in her as a woman.

Martha and Jonathan had lied to her, too. Lois waited for  the anger and hurt to well up anew, but it didn't. Martha  had obviously hated lying to her. Lois understood her words  now: she had to support Clark's decision to hide his  identity, even if she would rather be honest with Lois. It  comforted Lois enormously to know that Martha, at least,  trusted her. It was a pity Lois would never be able to tell  her that.

Because, much as she would have liked to confront Clark and  tell him exactly what she thought of him, she knew she  wouldn't. If Clark didn't trust her enough to tell her  himself, then there wasn't any point. She would keep  Superman's secret, even though she'd discovered her idol's  feet of clay.

Dejectedly, Lois inspected the empty ice cream carton. She  had cleaned it out; a bloodhound would have had a hard time  telling what the contents had been. She tossed the carton  in the bin and set about getting ready for bed. As she  climbed under the covers, it suddenly occurred to her to  wonder what it would be like dating Clark "Superman" Kent.

The best of both worlds? They would have the fun, the  camaraderie, the ability to be together in public. They  would also have the secret excitement and adventure, the  ability to fly together. But, at the same time, she would  constantly be concerned about protecting his secret  identity, covering up for his inexplicable absences,  concealing her fear when she saw the latest danger he was  facing broadcast on the newsroom television. She would have  to comfort him when he came back from a rescue sick at  heart because he hadn't been able to get to everyone in  time. She would always be worried lest some madman find a  chunk of kryptonite and kill him. She shook her head: it  wouldn't be easy. Still, it would almost certainly be more  rewarding than going to bed alone for the rest of her days.

But she was daydreaming again, to no purpose. She was never  going to have the opportunity to find out. She switched off  the light.

Ten minutes later, Lois sat up and switched on the light  again. She took a tissue from the box beside her bed, dried  her cheeks, and blew her nose defiantly. As she leaned over  to drop the tissue into the bin, she caught sight of Jerome  gazing forlornly up at her. She got out of bed and  retrieved him, dusting him off carefully. Then she got back  into bed.

As she switched the light off again, it occurred to her  that there was one small crumb of cold comfort to be  gleaned. At least she wasn't in love with two men.

She lay down once more, holding Jerome close. This time,  she went straight to sleep.

*****

- Chapter 8: Son of Nightfall -

Clark woke early, cramped from sleeping on the couch.  Holding tightly onto his pillow, he levitated a few inches  into the air and stretched the kinks out of his back.

He couldn't believe how wonderful it felt just to be Clark;  to be his whole self again. As soon as his parents had  broken the news to him last night, it was as though a dam  had burst and his past had come flooding back. He hadn't  needed the photographs they had brought along to convince  him they were telling the truth. Everything had suddenly  made sense: the memories of his "human" childhood that he  had been holding at bay, the sense of familiarity with  Clark's apartment that had been growing all day, the  instinctive affection he had felt for this couple who, to  the best of his knowledge, were mere acquaintances.

As soon as he accepted that these things were his by right,  and not the product of a disordered imagination, the pieces  of his identity had started to fall into place. The relief  had been indescribable.

He had truly been lost without his past. It emphasised for  him once again how shallow and two-dimensional the Superman  persona was. All the things that gave his life meaning -  his parents, his childhood, his career - belonged to Clark.  He had envied those things when he had thought they were  beyond his grasp, with a passionate longing that was  painful even to remember; yet they had been his all along.  That must make him one of the most fortunate people alive,  he mused. In all aspects except one...

Clark sighed and rolled onto his front, burying his face in  his pillow. He could still detect traces of Lois's unique  scent on it, from the night before.

Lois. His relationship with her was the one aspect of his  life where he seemed to be as far as ever from his goal.

And yet, after his accident, things had started out so  positively. Lois had found him and brought him home to the  best possible place in which to regain his memory. By the  most astonishing good fortune, she had failed to recognise  him even when he was dressed in his own clothes. And then -  Clark smiled wryly at the irony - his jealousy had led him  to ask Lois about himself.

He would never have dared do such an underhand thing under  normal circumstances; indeed, he had the uneasy feeling  that Lois, once she knew the truth, might find it hard to  forgive. But the results had disproven the old adage that  an eavesdropper never hears any good of himself. Not only  had she been surprisingly complimentary about him, but -  with far more honesty than she had shown to Clark or, he  suspected, to herself - she had even gone so far as to  admit she was attracted to him.

Wistfully, Clark wondered how things could have been if his  parents had turned up right then and there. Once the  immediate problem of his memory had been dealt with, he  would have been able to let his guard down slowly over  time, letting Lois realise how very far from indifferent to  her he really was. With no reason to think Superman might  be romantically interested in her, there would have been  every chance for her relationship with Clark to develop.

Instead, he had spent many hours with her as Superman,  giving her an opportunity to get to know the man beneath  the suit, and feeding her fantasies about the illusory  superhero. He had asked probing questions about his real  identity, the kind of questions he had been amazed but  relieved that Lois herself had never thought to ask. And  then, to crown it all, he had kissed her... Hot and cold  shivers chased each other up and down his spine at the  memory, and his body yearned to feel Lois's touch again,  even as he berated himself for his stupidity.

Clark groaned, dropped the pillow onto the couch and rolled  free of the blanket, then floated quietly over to the  kitchen to make a cup of tea. To his surprise, Martha came  through from the bedroom to join him, belting a brightly- patterned housecoat around herself. His parents always woke  early on the farm, but normally appreciated sleeping in on  their rare trips away.

Martha hugged him briefly and kissed his cheek, but waited  to speak until he had made two mugs of tea and they could  move further away from the bedroom. As they sat down on the  couch, Clark grinned and gestured with his mug. "New robe,  Mom?"

"I went to a fabric-dyeing workshop. Your father says I  should call this 'Sunrise Surprise'." She leant over to  give him another hug. "Oh, Clark, I'm so glad you're back  with us!"

"Me too. You have no idea how glad." He returned the hug.  "And thank you for coming to the rescue. My memory was  starting to come back, but I thought I was going crazy.  What I could remember didn't fit with anything Lois had  told me." He sipped his tea, frowning.

Martha studied his face carefully. "Are you still worrying  about Lois, honey?"

He nodded glumly. "Yeah. I don't know what to do about it.  Kissing her was just so stupid."

"Clark, we went over this last night. You have to make up  your mind - either you have to tell her that you're  Superman, or Superman has to tell her that it was a  mistake."

"Mom, if I tell her I'm Superman, how am I ever going to  know if she really loves me, or just the guy in the suit?  But how can I tell her that it was a mistake? I can't tell  her I don't love her. Even if I wanted to lie to her, it  would hurt her so badly. She's been hurt before, and she  doesn't think anyone really can love her. How could I do  that to her?"

Martha sipped her tea pensively. "You could tell her that  you're not free to pursue a relationship with her. Maybe  you could say that your family arranged for you to marry  someone back on Krypton."

Clark chuckled. "Oh, Mom, that's so far-fetched. Do you  think she'd believe that? Still, I suppose it's a  possibility. But I'm also worried about all those questions  I asked her, about the real me. She's going to want to know  the answers, and Superman can hardly say he doesn't trust  her, especially after all she did to protect him. I guess  he could say that he can't tell her now, but he will tell  her when he can - and hope that satisfies her curiosity for  long enough. The last thing I need is for her to start  interrogating me, or investigating our private lives. You  did convince her that Superman and I aren't a gay couple,  didn't you?"

Martha nodded, frowning. "I think so. Clark, I do wish you  wouldn't talk about yourself in the third person like that.  Like it or not, honey, you *are* Superman."

*****

Lois was staring morosely into her morning cup of coffee  when the phone rang. She had tossed and turned all night,  plagued with bizarre dreams about Superman and a blond  Clark, inviting her to join a m‚nage … trois. Now, weary  and heavy-eyed, she wasn't sure she was ready to deal with  what the day would bring. The emotional roller-coaster she  had been on had dumped her in a deep pit of depression, and  she had no idea how she was going to be able to face Clark  again... in either of his identities.

Hoping it was Martha, she picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, Lois, it's Clark." Her foolish heart did a little  dance of joy. He was all right!

"Hi, Clark. So you got away from the hospital at last." To  her relief, her voice was steady, but try as she might, she  couldn't help the sarcastic tone that crept into the last  sentence. She tried to pull herself together. "Does that  mean I'm going to have my partner back today?"

"I have to go back to the hospital this morning. George is  having surgery - a bypass operation. I should be back at  the Planet this afternoon, though."

Lois's eyes stung. So much for her hopes that he might be  honest with her after she had protected him. "Okay, I'll  see you then. How's Superman?"

"He's fine. We had a talk last night, and some things  started coming back to him. His memory seems to be back to  normal this morning. He's going to go to EPRAD as soon as  we can get hold of Professor Daitch, and then he'll go and  deal with that piece of asteroid."

"That's great news, Clark!" Lois tried to inject enthusiasm  into her voice, but it didn't seem to be working very well.

"He asked me to pass on his thanks for everything you did  for him. He'd like to thank you himself as soon as he gets  back. He doesn't know what time it'll be, but he says he'll  find you. He wants to know if you'd like the exclusive  interview for the Planet."

"Yes, I would, of course... that's very kind of him." Even  to her own ears she didn't sound very convincing, and she  hastened to end the call before she gave herself away.  "I'll see you later. Bye."

As she got ready for work, Lois tried to figure out how she  was going to cope with Superman when she saw him again, and  how she was going to manage working with Clark. She had to  try to suppress the hurt and anger she felt at having been  duped by them... by him, she corrected herself; she was  still having difficulty thinking of them as being the same  person.

She couldn't let her personal feelings get in the way of  her professional activities. Her Superman coverage had been  a very good boost for her career so far, and she couldn't  afford to let that go. As for her partnership with Clark...  well, she was going to have a hard time trusting him again,  but she had to admit that on the work front, she had no  reason to think Clark had been less than fair to her. His  special abilities would have enabled him to outdo her  professionally with no trouble, had he chosen to compete  with her instead of partnering her. Whatever his reason for  wanting to work with her - and it could be as simple as the  fact that they *did* write better as a team than either of  them did individually - she would be wise to attempt to  preserve what she could of their working relationship. As  long as she never admitted to him directly that she thought  of him as anything more than a partner and a friend (and  she winced once again at the memory of what she had said to  Superman), it should be possible to continue working  together almost as though nothing had happened.

As for yesterday's kiss... doubtless Superman would come up  with some explanation for why it meant nothing. Clark must  be dreading the prospect that she would take it as a  declaration of his romantic interest, and become a clingy  nuisance. Well, she'd be able to put his mind at rest about  that soon enough.

By the time she arrived at work, Lois had convinced herself  that everything was going to be just fine. She took the  time to bring Perry up to date on Superman's return to full  health and his intention to deal with the last remnant of  the Nightfall Asteroid that morning. Then she started  catching up on her in tray and e-mail.

She was a little surprised to find a message from Lex,  asking to see her ASAP. She had almost forgotten what  Superman had had to say about Lex. Should she place any  more reliance on it than she had on what Clark had said  previously? Superman could have sources of information that  ordinary reporters didn't. The sensible approach was to  behave like a reporter: ask Superman for more information,  and then investigate Lex. She resolved to have a word with  Jimmy before she left to meet Lex.

And what could Lex want with her now? Perhaps he had come  up with some plan for dealing with the asteroid? He had  significant resources at his disposal, and he had been  silent on the subject of the asteroid so far. This might be  a conclusive rebuttal of Clark's suspicions about him.

*****

Half an hour later, Lois was gazing wide-eyed at Lex's  underground bunker: his "Ark", as he called it. He was  explaining how it would enable two hundred people to  survive through the next three years of turmoil, assuming  that the worst happened and the Nightfall Asteroid  proceeded to hit Metropolis. It was so utterly different to  what she had expected to hear that she was having  difficulty taking it in.

"Why am I here?" she queried.

"Aha," Lex said, smiling, and led the way to a nearby door.  He opened it with a flourish and ushered Lois through.

The sight that met her eyes left her open-mouthed. "This is  my apartment!" she gasped.

"Well, at least a reasonable facsimile thereof," Lex said  behind her. "I hope you like it."

"Of course I like it, I decorated it!" Lois exclaimed.  Every detail she could see was identical to her own  apartment. Only her personal things seemed to be missing.  She turned slowly to face Lex. "But I am a little  confused..."

Lex gazed deep into her eyes. "I'm offering you a chance,  Lois, to become a passenger on this Ark. To be my special  guest on Mankind's next great adventure."

Lois blinked. Shouldn't he be thinking about preserving  important people - scientists, humanitarians, great  thinkers? "Lex, why me?"

"Because I care," he said, taking her hand. "And because I  must admit that three years will be a long time without...  companionship."

"Oh." <A lifeline - with strings attached.> She drew her  hand away to gaze once more around the room. "How have you  selected the... passengers on this Ark, Lex? Who are you  going to save?"

"Well, the government has its own contingency plans for a  disaster of this magnitude. I've extended an invitation to  a few businessmen and... religious leaders, and their  families. But our group will need quite a lot of support  staff, so most of the occupants will be able-bodied men who  are fit for manual labour - farming, simple manufacturing  and so on. And, in case mob rule has taken over by then,  they will be able to protect us. We have enough weapons in  storage to ensure our safety."

Lois was silent for a minute, absorbing the picture. In  effect, Lex would have a private army. It would be a major  power in a world where the rule of law had broken down. She  would have a privileged position at his side, but it seemed  the group wouldn't have many women to start with. Perhaps  they planned to acquire additional women from the "mobs"  they subdued...

She swallowed hard, and adopted her best professional  manner to mask the disgust she felt at the images she was  conjuring up. "Most people are expecting Superman to deal  with the asteroid, Lex. You obviously don't think he's  going to be able to do that."

He smiled at her with a hint of patronage. "Superman has  already tried once, and failed. It would be foolish to  place all one's trust in him a second time, don't you  think?"

Lois felt a spark of anger ignite. "Superman risked his  life to save us all," she said evenly. "I believe he's  going to do so again - maybe he's up there right now.  You've put an impressive amount of effort and money into  this Ark, Lex. Have you devoted any of your considerable  resources to finding a way to destroy the asteroid?"

If she hadn't been studying Lex's face carefully, she would  have missed the surprised anger that showed in his eyes for  an instant before he masked it with his normal suave charm.  <He didn't expect me to bite the hand that's feeding me,>  she thought with mingled satisfaction and disquiet. When  had Lex come to regard her as his lapdog?

"My scientists have been working with EPRAD in their  efforts to adapt the Asgard rocket," he said smoothly. "I  hope I don't need to remind you that the project and the  participants are top-secret, of course. But my Ark is a  simple matter of risk management, Lois. All businesses have  good risk assessment and contingency strategies, or they  perish. Now, I have a lot that needs my attention. May I  send someone to pack your personal belongings?"

She shook her head firmly. "I can't stay here, Lex. I'll  put my faith in Superman - and, failing him, the EPRAD  project. And if the worst comes to the worst, and that  asteroid does destroy the world as we know it, then I'll be  there to see it for myself."

*****

Back at the Planet, Lois thought over her conversation with  Lex. It certainly hadn't vindicated his philanthropy the  way she had envisaged; in fact, it made her skin crawl to  think about his vision for a post-apocalyptic world. He  "cared" for her, he had said, but it seemed he wanted her  to become some sort of... concubine. It sickened her to  think that he had expected her to accept.

Moreover, as an inducement to her to join his wild scheme,  he had created an exact copy of her apartment in his  bunker. Did he think her that attached to material things,  or had he intended the demonstration of his power and  wealth to impress her? Perhaps it would have, before  Superman had convinced her to think twice about his  motivation. When had she started thinking about Lex like a  groupie, instead of like a seasoned, cynical reporter?  Wasn't she the person who normally claimed that everyone  had an angle?

And someone - perhaps Lex himself, but more likely his  minions - knew enough about her apartment to create an  uncannily accurate copy of it. Someone had been in her  home, measuring up the rooms and the furniture, going  through her things. Perhaps they had taken photographs, so  they could match the colours and designs... Shivering  uncontrollably, Lois crossed her arms protectively over her  queasy stomach.

<This isn't the way a seasoned reporter behaves!> Abruptly,  Lois stood up and strode over to the coffee machine,  fighting for control. She took several deep breaths and  recklessly poured herself a cup of real coffee, with real  milk and sugar. Right now, she needed all the help she  could get. Then she sat down at her desk again, ruthlessly  suppressing all thoughts of Lex to concentrate on her  Superman story.

By mid-morning, Lois had written the outline of the story,  based on the assumption that this time Superman would  succeed. The details were missing, of course; she would  have to fill those in from her interview with him. Always  assuming he made it back...

Thrusting her sudden fear aside, Lois placed a call to  EPRAD. It took some time to steamroller her way through the  military bureaucracy, but finally she was put through to  Professor Daitch. At first it seemed he was going to refuse  to speak to a member of the press; Lois had to remind him  that it was her partner who had contacted him on Superman's  behalf that morning before he reluctantly admitted that  Superman was indeed currently engaged in a second mission  to clean up the debris from the Nightfall Asteroid. Beyond  saying that the mission was going according to schedule,  and that EPRAD would hold a press conference once they were  certain of its success, he refused to divulge any further  information. Nevertheless, Lois hung up well satisfied. She  had some official confirmation of her story, and the longer  the press conference was delayed, the more certain she was  to preserve the Planet's scoop.

Suddenly it hit Lois: at this precise moment Clark, her  quiet, unassuming partner, was flying somewhere out in  space, pushing asteroids about with his bare hands. Saving  the world.

All the blood drained from Lois's face, and the newsroom  swayed sickeningly around her. If she hadn't been seated at  her desk, she would have fallen.

She had been so focused on her anger and hurt at Clark's  betrayal of their friendship that she hadn't even given a  thought to this. Clark ate bombs and lifted rockets into  orbit. He could light fires with his gaze and put them out  with his breath. He could catch bullets in his fingers, or  simply bounce them off his chest. What could he possibly  have in common with her?

The sense of unreality threatened to overwhelm her. Once  again, Lois thrust her reflections away and concentrated on  the only stable constant in her shifting universe: her  work.

*****

Clark flew slowly towards the Planet building. It had been  a busy morning. After a protracted meeting with Professor  Daitch and his assistants to discuss the best strategy for  dealing with the asteroid fragments, he had started with  the single large piece. Flying out to meet it, he had  pushed it away from its collision course with the Earth and  out of the plane of the ecliptic; then he had shepherded it  onto a new course which would take it down into the sun  without interfering with Venus or Mercury on the way. Next,  guided by EPRAD Mission Control, he had hunted out all the  remaining fragments that were large enough to survive a  trip through the atmosphere, lobbing some towards the sun  and crushing others to dust. There would be spectacular  meteor showers for the next few nights, but there would be  no damage to property or lives.

Finally, he had gathered a few smallish rocks as samples  for scientific study and delivered them to EPRAD,  extracting a reluctant agreement that they would be  distributed among various scientific institutions in  different countries.

There was no longer any excuse for delaying. It was time to  face the music. Lois was going to be looking for answers to  all those questions he had posed, and he could see no real  alternative but to tell her the truth. The question of how  to break the news most tactfully had occupied his mind for  most of the morning; unfortunately, he didn't yet have a  good answer.

He scanned the newsroom as he approached the Planet. As he  had hoped, most of the staff had filed their stories for  the usual twelve o'clock deadline and left for lunch,  leaving the room almost empty. Lois was still hunched in  front of her computer, however - the cold cup of coffee  beside her suggesting that she had been in that position  for quite some time. Clark broke into an involuntary smile  at the sight of her, before recollecting himself and  composing his face into the trademark Superman solemnity.

He entered the newsroom at super-speed, coming to a halt in  his "hero pose" beside Lois's desk. He studied her face in  the instant before she looked up. It looked pale and drawn;  had she been worrying about him?

"Ms. Lane? I believe we have an appointment for an  interview."

The delighted smile he had anticipated failed to  materialise. Instead, a hint of what might have been  apprehension showed in her eyes for a second before she  composed herself. "Superman," she greeted him quietly. "I'm  glad you made it. Let me just get a notebook." She turned  away and yanked a desk drawer open to find a notebook and a  pencil.

"Shall we go somewhere more private?" he suggested. "I  could fly us to your apartment..."

She flinched, and this time the panic was unmistakable.  "No!" she yelped. "I mean, no, that won't be necessary,"  she continued, more calmly. "We can use the conference  room." She stood up and strode briskly to the conference  room, trailing an astonished Clark in her wake. What could  possibly have happened since the previous evening to make  Lois afraid of him?

When they reached the conference room, Lois shut the door  behind him and motioned him to a chair, seating herself on  the opposite side of the table. She opened her notebook and  positioned it in front of her, then looked at him with a  careful smile. "Clark said you'd recovered your memory,"  she said. "I'm very glad for you. Are you feeling a hundred  percent?"

"Yes, I am," he said, and allowed himself a grin. "I'm  feeling super!"

The small joke failed to impress. Lois's eyes flicked to  his cape. "I see you got another costume," she said.

He grimaced. "I prefer to call them 'suits'," he said.

Her eyes returned to his face. "I guess that makes it seem  less like playing a part," she remarked. Clark flinched  inwardly.

Fortunately she didn't wait for a response, but began to  question him about the Nightfall Asteroid. She was very  thorough and her manner was totally professional... and  completely devoid of warmth. Clark tried to concentrate on  the questions, but as the interview wore on he became  steadily more worried about what could have upset Lois so.

Finally, Lois seemed to have run out of questions. She  turned over a new page in her notebook and sat staring  blankly at it, visibly changing gears. Clark braced himself  for the difficult part of the interview.

But her next question took him quite by surprise. "What can  you tell me about Lex Luthor? Strictly off the record." She  mistook his startled pause for hesitation, and looked up  with a frown. "I assume what you said about him yesterday  was true?"

"Yes, it's true, Lois, but I don't have any proof..."

"Well, that's where I come in. That's what an investigative  journalist does - get proof." She added with an edge of  anger, "I can't imagine why Clark didn't start  investigating him months ago, instead of just complaining  about him."

Clark shifted uncomfortably. "Well, here's what  happened..." he began. He proceeded to fill her in on the  details of Superman's interactions with Luthor: how Luthor  hadn't bothered to deny his involvement in the sabotage of  Space Station Prometheus and the 'trials' of Superman's  abilities, and how he had threatened that someone might get  hurt if Superman stayed in Metropolis. Then he enumerated  the suspicious 'coincidences' linking Luthor to various  other criminal activities: the Toaster Gang, the Mentamide  kids, the pollution leaks from the Luthor Nuclear Power  Plant, the development of the pheromone perfume.

Lois took careful notes. At the end of his recitation she  sighed. "This is all either your word against his, or  completely circumstantial," she commented.

"I know," he said sombrely. "I've been hoping Luthor would  make a slip, and I'd be there to catch it. So far, he's  been much too careful."

Lois nodded. "Well, if there is any evidence to be found,  we'll find it," she averred. She closed her notebook,  looking tired and drained. "Thank you, Superman. This will  be very helpful."

Clark tensed. She appeared to be about to end the interview  without asking a single question about his real identity.  Something was very wrong. He had worked himself up to face  the moment of truth at last, and he was loath to leave now  without even broaching the subject; at the same time, he  was uneasily aware that the newsroom had started to fill up  again after the lunch hour, and a number of curious pairs  of eyes were trained on them through the conference room  windows. Since Lois was unlikely to take his confidence  calmly, it would be best not to have an audience.

He cleared his throat. "Lois, I haven't had a chance to  thank you properly for everything you've done for me over  the last few days..."

"You're welcome, Superman," she responded coolly. "You've  just saved all of us from a very nasty fate. What I did  pales in comparison. It was the least I could do."

Clark drew a frustrated breath. He didn't seem to be  reaching her at all. He glanced at her hand on the table  between them; he wished he could pick it up and kiss it,  but that would certainly cause a feeding frenzy among the  newsroom gossips. "Lois, we need to talk about... us. What  happened yesterday..."

"I don't think there's much to say," she interrupted,  folding her arms defensively. "We both know that kiss  was... a mistake. It didn't mean anything; we just lost our  heads for a moment. I'd rather just leave it at that."

Clark fought to keep himself from gaping at her like a  fool. By the time he regained some control of his faculties  she was speaking again, studiously avoiding his gaze. "Now,  if you'll excuse me, I have a deadline to meet to get my  scoop into the evening edition." She stood up and proffered  her hand, which he shook like an automaton. Then she was  opening the door for him.

He briefly considered picking her up and flying her willy- nilly to somewhere private, where he could demand to know  what was going on, but he resisted the temptation. Not only  were there the onlookers to consider, but she would  probably never forgive him for ruining her scoop. He  collected himself and stood up. "Goodbye, Ms. Lane, and  thank you." He cast a brief glance at the assembled throng  in the newsroom and elected to leave as he had arrived, at  super-speed.

Hovering a couple of thousand feet above Metropolis, Clark  struggled to make sense of Lois's reaction to him. She was  obviously bitterly regretting having kissed him yesterday,  and terrified he would try and assert some sort of claim on  her. But what could possibly have changed her mind about  Superman overnight? Could the all too human weakness she  had observed while his memory was missing, have convinced  her that the superhero was after all unworthy of her love?  No, he couldn't believe she was that shallow. Could she  have decided that she wasn't interested in a relationship  with any man, even her erstwhile idol? What could have  prompted such a decision?

And the next question was, what should he do about it? He  had an unexpected reprieve from the need to tell her who he  was. Should he force the issue, just to find out what was  behind Lois's change of heart, or should he refrain from  looking the gift horse in the mouth? As Clark, he might  have a better chance of getting Lois to confide in him.

And speaking of Clark, he had a job waiting for him. Perry  had been surprisingly understanding about his protracted  absence, but he would undoubtedly expect something for  tomorrow's edition.

Clark headed for home and a lightning change of clothes and  persona.

*****

- Chapter 9: Aftermath -

Lois finished adding the details about Superman's Nightfall  mission to her article for the evening edition, and sat  back with a sigh. One more pass through to polish the  writing and this was going to be Kerth material for sure.  Perry had already set aside most of the front page for the  scoop, and he was expecting the full interview to be  written up for the morning edition. She was grateful that  his understanding attitude over the need to protect  Superman's secret had been repaid so handsomely. As she  leant forward again and used the mouse to scroll back to  the top of her document, Lois noticed that her hand was  trembling. She hadn't stopped shaking since shortly before  Superman had left the conference room. She rested her  elbows on the desk and massaged her temples, closing her  eyes for a minute. She needed to compose herself before  Clark returned to the newsroom.

Superman's initial offer to fly them to her apartment had  caught her completely by surprise, though in hindsight it  was an obvious idea. But after what felt like Lex's  violation of her personal territory, the mere thought of  going to her apartment had turned her stomach, and she had  panicked for a second. Fortunately she had recovered  swiftly and the rest of the interview had gone smoothly.  Apart from a couple of barbed remarks, she had managed to  avoid voicing her anger at his duplicity, while that same  anger had helped her to maintain a superficial calm.

And then he had started to broach the subject of their  personal relationship, and her nerve had snapped. She  couldn't sit there and listen to his excuses as to why a  close relationship between them was out of the question;  she had pre-empted him with her own disclaimer, and  salvaged some of her pride in the process. She hadn't been  able to look him in the eye afterwards, to see the relief  he must have felt, but the speed with which he had vanished  left her in little doubt about how anxious he was to get  the awkward conversation over and done with.

Saying the words had been more difficult than she would  have believed possible. From the moment she had become  aware of his presence beside her desk, all her instincts  had been clamouring for her to reach out to him, to renew  yesterday's intimacy. Even after she herself had pronounced  the death-knell on their relationship, it had taken every  ounce of her self-control to stop her flinging herself into  his arms. It was evidently going to take some time for her  brain to convince the rest of her that he was off-limits.

And soon he, or rather Clark, would be back in the  newsroom, and she would need to face him with equanimity.  In fact, a sixth sense told her, he had just arrived. She  looked up to see him emerging from the lift. Immediately  his eyes homed in on her desk; as they met hers he lifted a  hand in greeting and a cheerful smile lit up his face,  taking her breath away. Then he turned away to walk down  the ramp, greeting the colleagues he passed on the way.

She watched his progress, searching for the evidence of his  dual identity that she had missed before. She hadn't dared  do the same with Superman earlier, lest he think she was  pining over him. Now that she was looking for it, the  resemblance between Clark and Superman was obvious, yet the  glasses and hair did make a surprising amount of  difference. Their posture and manner were also markedly  different - Superman always held himself stiffly and  cultivated an air of aloofness, while Clark was friendly to  a fault and frequently seemed positively clumsy. Even their  voices differed somewhat. Superman spoke in deep, measured  tones; the only time she had heard him use Clark's lighter,  more animated voice had been when he had lost his memory.  Clark evidently worked very hard at maintaining his  disguise. Perhaps she could stop blaming herself for having  failed to penetrate it sooner.

And now he was walking towards her desk, still smiling  cheerfully. She gathered the remnants of her anger about  her like armour. What right did he have to look so pleased  with himself, when she was feeling so wretched?

"This is a fine time to come in to work," she greeted him  frostily.

"Afternoon, Lois," he said sunnily. "It's nice to see you,  too. Have you had lunch?"

"Clark, I've been working my buns off for the last two  days, gathering actual news and writing actual articles for  the Planet, while you've been... occupied elsewhere!" she  snapped. She knew how horrendously unfair it was, but she  couldn't stop the angry words tumbling out, and doubtless  he and whoever else was listening would simply see Mad Dog  Lane being her normal sympathetic self. "We've been in the  middle of a national crisis, or hadn't you noticed? I don't  have time to go to lunch."

He nodded. "That's what I figured," he said calmly. "I  stopped on the way in to pick up a sandwich, and I got you  one too." He opened the bag he'd been carrying and unpacked  the contents onto her desk. "Rare roast beef and English  mustard for me. Chicken salad for you. And some yoghurt."  He smiled sweetly at her.

She stared back, all the wind taken out of her sails.  "Clark, that's very kind of you," she said huskily. She  thought for an appalled moment that she might burst into  tears, but she rescued herself by reflecting that her  uncertain emotional state probably owed a lot to the fact  that she hadn't eaten since last night. She picked up her  sandwich and sniffed appreciatively. "Mmm, heaven! How's  George?" she asked before taking a bite.

"George?" he echoed, evidently flummoxed for a moment. "Uh,  George is fine. I mean, the doctors say he'll be fine now.  The operation was very successful."

Perry appeared at Clark's shoulder. "I hate to break up  your picnic, boys and girls," he said, "but could I remind  you that we have a paper to get out? Lois, my front page is  looking mighty bare right now. I want your article on my  desk in fifteen minutes, and you've got a press conference  to cover at EPRAD at two o'clock."

"I already got all the details I need from Superman," she  objected. "And I have an interview to write up. Clark can  go."

"Superman may have left something out, and you can write up  your interview afterwards," Perry decreed. He turned to  Clark as though noticing him for the first time. "Kent, you  found your way back to us at last. I take it your friend is  on the mend?"

"Hi, Chief," Clark said, collecting his lunch quickly and  moving over to his own desk. "Yes, he's recovering, and my  parents are with him now."

"Glad to hear it. So, what do you have to contribute to our  little publication?"

"I was researching background stuff about asteroids -  scientific information and so on - before I took off, uh,  had to take time off. I should be able to write up  something on that by this evening."

"Glad to hear it. I won't keep you from your work any  longer, then," Perry declared, and left them to it. Clark  shrugged apologetically in Lois's direction and turned his  attention to his work, and Lois did likewise.

A few minutes later Lois finished her sandwich and reached  absently for her coffee mug, before recollecting that its  contents were several hours old and would be stone cold by  now. To her astonishment, when she picked it up she found  that the mug was pleasantly warm. She gazed at it for  several bemused seconds before shrugging and lifting it to  her lips. By a supreme effort of will she prevented herself  glancing over to where she knew Clark would be watching her  reaction out of the corner of his eye. Having a super- powered partner looking after her did have its benefits.

*****

Clark waved farewell to his parents as they went through  the airport security checkpoint. They had declined his  offer to fly them home himself, preferring to use the  return half of their plane tickets instead.

"It would be suspicious if anyone ever checked up on our  travel arrangements," his dad had said. "And don't worry,  we'll enjoy the flight together."

"As long as you're sure," Clark had conceded. Privately, he  found it hard to imagine how anyone could choose to be shut  up in a metal tube in the air given the alternative. He  left the airport on foot, walking a few blocks before  ducking into a dark alley to spin into his suit and take to  the sky his own way.

In some respects, it had been a good weekend. Perry had  been overjoyed by Lois's scoop and the follow-up exclusive  interview with Superman, and in a rare expansive moment had  told both of them to take the weekend off. When Clark had  demurred, thinking guiltily of the two days he had already  lost due to other causes, Perry had clapped him on the back  and told him that he was looking tired, and that Perry  wanted his best reporting team at full fighting strength  the following week.

So Clark had had a day and a half to show his parents  around his favourite city before their plane left. Jonathan  had visibly hated the big city, but he had kept Clark  company uncomplainingly while Martha was making the most of  the opportunity to do some shopping. There were still half  a dozen bags full of her purchases in Clark's apartment,  which he had volunteered to bring with him next time he  flew out to Smallville.

In other respects, the weekend had been deeply frustrating.  The newsroom had been full all of Friday afternoon, and  Clark had had no opportunity to use superspeed to get his  research or his writing done more quickly. Consequently  there had been no time to talk to Lois again, and he had  still been busy when she had turned in her interview copy  at five and gone home.

He was desperate to talk to her and find out what was going  on; desperate enough to drop by her apartment as Superman  late that evening, when he was out on patrol. He had picked  up the familiar sound of her heartbeat in the bedroom as he  approached. But when he had tapped on her living-room  window, although her heartbeat had accelerated, she had  made no move to acknowledge his presence or to let him in.  It seemed she had no desire to talk to her erstwhile hero.  He had been tempted to use his x-ray vision to check that  she was all right, but he couldn't justify the invasion of  her privacy. Instead, he had flown away with a heavy heart.

He had tried ringing her apartment a few times on Saturday,  but he had only reached her answering machine. He hoped it  meant she was out seeing friends, or spending time with her  family, but somehow he doubted it. His worry had been  nagging at the back of his mind all weekend.

Clark did a leisurely patrol of the city. It was too early  for the city's lowlife to be busy, but it didn't hurt to  remind them and their potential victims that Superman was  around. He stopped at a traffic obstruction and found that  an elderly lady had stalled her car in the middle of the  road and flooded it trying to restart it. She gratefully  accepted the offer of a lift home for herself and her car.  He flew slowly and stayed low, monitoring her heartbeat  inside the car; she evidently found the ride exciting, but  not dangerously so. He parked the car neatly outside the  address she had given him and stayed long enough to give  her a hand out of the car. "My pleasure, ma'am," he  responded to her embarrassingly effusive thanks, and took  to the skies again, reflecting that it really was a  pleasure to be able to lend a hand with simple things for  ordinary people once in a while.

Finally he could no longer ignore his need to find Lois. He  headed for her apartment and hovered above it, listening  for her heartbeat, but it wasn't there. Nor was her Jeep  parked outside in its usual place. He scanned the  neighbourhood quickly, and then headed over to his own  apartment on the off chance that she had decided to respond  to his answering-machine messages in person, but there was  no sign of her.

Clark told himself that he would look in the only other  obvious place and then he would quit worrying unnecessarily  about Lois's whereabouts. To his surprise, when he scanned  the Daily Planet building he found Lois's jeep parked in  the basement car park, and although her desk was empty he  finally espied her sitting in the conference room,  scrutinising one of the stacks of paper which liberally  festooned the table. For an anxious moment he wondered  whether she was engaged in investigating Superman's private  life, but when he zoomed his vision in on the paperwork he  saw with immense relief that it all seemed to be corporate  financial records.

He dropped out of the darkening sky into a suitably  deserted alleyway, and a few moments later he was entering  the Planet's foyer, dressed in ordinary street clothes.

As he tapped on the door of the conference room and let  himself in, Lois looked around from her reading. "Clark?  What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the  weekend with your parents."

"They just caught the plane home." Clark closed the door  carefully and turned to study her face. She looked wan, and  there were dark smudges under her eyes. "What are *you*  doing here, Lois? You're supposed to be taking some time  off to relax. You look as if you've been here all weekend!"

She looked down at the paperwork, biting her lip. "I guess  I have been here most of it."

"What is all this stuff, anyway?" Clark sat down next to  her and picked up the top sheet from the nearest pile: a  list of trustees and office-holders for the United Front  charity.

"I'm looking into Lex's business affairs. After what  Superman told me, I wanted to get started on an  investigation, so I asked Jimmy to pull all the information  he could on Lex's financial holdings and interests." She  pulled a face as she gazed around the table. "I didn't  realise there would be so much of it. I've barely managed  to get it sorted into categories, never mind start working  out how all these corporations and trusts relate to each  other."

"It'll go more quickly if both of us work on it together,"  he suggested. "That is, if you want me to work with you,"  he added hastily.

"I'd love some help," she said ruefully. She lifted her  eyes to meet his. "You've had suspicions about Lex for  months, Clark. Why didn't you start investigating him long  ago? Or at least tell me what was going on?"

"Well, like you said yourself, Lois, most of the evidence  is circumstantial." As her eyebrows rose, he covered his  mistake automatically. "Superman told me what you said in  the interview..."

Lois's lips tightened into a grim line, and Clark realised  dimly that he hadn't made matters any better. "Oh, you've  been talking it over, have you? I suppose you discuss  everything I say to either of you?" Lois's tone was angry,  but Clark glimpsed a wounded look in her eyes. Was she  jealous of what appeared to be the close relationship  between him and Superman, or was she simply embarrassed  about what they might have told each other? Was she  regretting the things she had said to Superman about Clark,  perhaps?

He sighed and closed his eyes, running a hand through his  hair. "Lois, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like  that..."

"I just bet you didn't!" she muttered furiously.

"... but can we concentrate on one villain at a time?" He  looked at her appealingly, and her face softened. "Can you  tell me what's so urgent about digging the dirt on Luthor?  A few days ago you didn't think he could put a foot wrong,  and now you're spending your free time going through his  finances..."

Lois sighed and looked away. "Lex contacted me on Friday  morning, and I went to see him," she began, haltingly. "I  thought he was going to prove you wrong - you and Superman.  I thought he might have a plan for dealing with the  Nightfall Asteroid. Well, he did, but it wasn't what I  expected..."

Clark listened with mounting distaste as Lois described  Lex's bunker, and his scheme for saving himself and a  private army. "I can't say I'm surprised," he commented  when she drew to a close. "But why did he tell you about  it?"

Lois looked down at her hands, which were nervously  pleating and unpleating her skirt. Her hair swung forward  to hide her face. "He wanted me to go along," she said in a  low voice. "For 'companionship', he said. I suppose it's a  compliment in a twisted sort of way... but I think he  genuinely expected me to accept. What did I do to make him  think I'd welcome an offer like that? And how could I have  been so wrong about him?" Her voice wobbled. "I'm an award- winning investigative reporter, and I couldn't see that  he's a two-faced slime-ball!"

Clark shot a quick glance through the window into the  newsroom, noting with chagrin that several reporters were  still at their desks. He wanted to put his arm around Lois,  but instead he picked up one of her hands and held it in a  comforting clasp. "Lois, Luthor is a very charming man, and  he's very good at deceiving people. Everybody in Metropolis  has been fooled by him... even Perry. You shouldn't blame  yourself."

"You weren't fooled," she muttered rebelliously.

He grimaced. "I had ... privileged information. Lois, look  at me." She hesitated before complying; her face showed  embarrassment and hurt, and other emotions he couldn't  quite place. "This room isn't the best place to be talking  about this. You're upset, and Ralph is sitting out there  watching us and wondering what we're up to. Why don't we  pick up some takeout, and then we can go over to your place  and talk... Lois, what *is* the matter?" For her face had  gone white and her hand was shaking in his clasp.

"I didn't tell you all of it." Her voice was trembling,  too. "He had an apartment built for me in the bunker. I  guess he thought it would persuade me to stay. It's exactly  like my own apartment. Every detail... the carpets, the  curtains, the furniture... everything." She swallowed.  "That's why I spent all weekend here. I can't bear being at  home. I feel like he's watching me all the time. And what  if he is?" Her voice was rising on a panicky note. "What if  whoever came into my apartment to inspect it also planted  bugs in it? Or even a spy camera?"

Clark cursed under his breath. He felt more helpless than  he had ever felt before. When Lois's life had been  threatened, he had been able to stay with her and protect  her; this time the threat was not so much physical as  mental, and he didn't know how to protect her from it. He  gripped her shoulder firmly, and spoke urgently. "Lois, I  won't let Luthor harm you. I'll never let anyone harm you.  You must believe me!" As she looked searchingly into his  eyes, he added, almost as an afterthought, "Superman would  never let anyone hurt you, either."

A ghost of a smile flitted over her face, and she nodded.  "I believe you, Clark."

"Good. Now, why don't I ask Superman to check your  apartment for any spy equipment?"

This time the smile was real, and some of the fear left her  face. "Oh, could you? I mean, can he do that? That would be  such a relief..."

He got to his feet. "I'll go and do it right now. Will you  be okay here for half an hour or so?" At her nod he strode  to the door, then turned back to her. "You're quite sure  you'll be all right?"

She chuckled. "Just go, already!"

He smiled back. "I won't be long," he promised, and finally  left.

Lois's indulgent smile faded as she watched him go. She had  spent most of the weekend obsessing about Lex and dreading  being alone at home. Just telling Clark about it had been a  weight off her mind, and his large, solid presence was  utterly reassuring at an instinctive level that she could  barely comprehend. Even though she knew he was lying to  her, she realised, she still trusted him completely when it  came to protecting her.

If only he weren't being so... so *adorably* sweet in the  process. So thoughtful and concerned about her, and so  charmingly ridiculous with his Kevin Costner bodyguard  impression. It made her want to kiss him, and when he held  her hand it made her senses swim... <It's just nerves, and  lack of sleep,> she reassured herself. <Once this is over,  we'll go back to being partners and friends. It'll be  fine.>

*****

True to his word, Clark was back within half an hour. He  was carrying two carrier bags; delicious smells were  wafting from one, while the other was small but looked  heavy. "There was nothing in your apartment," he reported.  "Luthor may have a warped sense of ethics when it comes to  other people's property, but he doesn't seem to be spying  on you."

Lois's shoulders slumped in relief. "Thank you," she  whispered, closing her eyes. A single tear trickled down  her cheek, and Clark's heart turned over. He dumped the  bags on the table and pulled a chair up next to her, taking  her hand again.

"Lois, it's going to be okay," he said awkwardly. "Let's  get you out of here."

She looked at him nervously. "Clark, I'm not sure..."

"Lois, it's your home!" he said forcefully. "You can't let  Luthor destroy your peace of mind. We're going to take you  home, and we're going to change the locks on your front  door. Then we're going to eat our dinner, and maybe watch  something on TV, or talk, or do whatever friends do in the  security of their own homes. And after that, if you want me  to, I'll stay over to make sure you're all right. We are  *not* going to let Luthor defeat you!"

She smiled and gave a watery sniff. "Okay. That sounds  okay."

As she hunted in her purse for a tissue to blow her nose, a  new thought struck Clark. "Lois, would you like to find out  if you can charge Luthor with harassment or something? Or  get a court injunction forcing him to leave you alone?"

She thought about it for a moment, and shook her head. "No,  I don't think so," she said slowly. "I doubt any charges  would stick, and an injunction wouldn't stop him doing  anything he really wanted to do. It would just give our  game away." She looked up at Clark with a new determination  in her eyes. "I'd prefer to investigate him thoroughly  instead, and bring him and his empire down."

He smiled. "I like the sound of that. We'll take this  paperwork with us, then, and make a start after dinner."

*****

Lois finished unlocking her front door and hesitated,  gathering her nerve. Clark gave her an encouraging smile  and she took a deep breath, pushed the door open and went  in, Clark following close behind her. As she shut the door,  he deposited his carrier bags on the coffee table and  relieved her of her armful of papers. She wrapped her arms  defensively around herself, looking nervously into all the  corners of the room and shivering slightly. Clark gave a  low growl, stepped forward and enveloped her in a  reassuring hug.

Lois stood stiffly for a moment before her self-possession  crumbled and she subsided against his chest, bursting into  tears. He held her tight, rocking her slightly and  murmuring comforting nothings into her hair, while she  cried out the fear and the disillusionment of the past few  days. Finally her tears diminished into sobs and then  silence.

Clark fished in a pocket with one hand and pulled out a  handkerchief, with which he dried her tears. "Feel better?"  he enquired sympathetically.

She nodded. "I'm sorry, your shirt is all wet," she said  ruefully.

He grinned. "That's okay, I've got my waterproof underwear  on," he quipped. He turned her chin up with one finger to  look into her eyes. "Lois, I'm sorry you had to face this  alone," he said seriously. "I had a feeling something was  wrong - I should have tried harder to find you this  weekend. You could have called me, you know."

"I suppose so," she said dubiously. "It seemed such a  stupid thing to be upset about, though..."

"It wasn't stupid!" he said firmly. "You've been incredibly  brave. Luthor is an evil man, and we're going to get him -  together."

She nodded, smiling. "Count on it, partner!" she said, and  drew herself away from him. She felt a keen sense of loss  as his arms dropped from her shoulders, but it was time to  stand on her own two feet again - before her hormones  kicked back into action and she did something they would  both regret. "Why don't I get some plates and we can eat  before our dinner gets cold?" she suggested.

By the time she came back, Clark had unpacked several  containers of Chinese takeout, and the room was full of  enticing smells. Lois suddenly realised just how hungry she  was. "I don't think I've eaten properly since that sandwich  you brought me on Friday," she remarked. "You're taking  really good care of me." She smiled at Clark and set to  with gusto.

Within a remarkably short time, all the food had vanished.  Lois sat back replete, and Clark smiled at her look of  absolute contentment. "Don't move," he ordered. "I'll clean  up. Would you like some coffee?"

"That would be wonderful," she sighed. "I'll make a start  on the paperwork while you're busy." But when Clark came  back to the living room a few minutes later, he found Lois  sound asleep. She slept on while he changed the locks on  her front door for those he had brought in the second  carrier bag. She slept on while he drank his coffee, using  superspeed to read through the pile of financial records  but finding nothing untoward.

Clark wondered whether he could simply put Lois to bed  without waking her, but as he bent over her, her eyelids  fluttered open. She sat up straight, stifling a yawn. "Did  I fall asleep?" she mumbled apologetically.

He chuckled. "I was just wondering whether I should put you  to bed," he said. "You obviously have a lot of sleep to  catch up. Do you want me to stay and sleep on your couch  tonight, or will you be all right on your own?"

She considered the question carefully, looking around the  room. To her relief, for the first time since she had seen  Lex's bunker, she could feel no sense of watching eyes, no  prickle of hidden menace. The apartment was her home again.  She shook her head. "It's kind of you, Clark, but I think  you've laid the ghosts," she said with a smile.

"Then you'd better let me out," he said. "I've changed the  locks, but I'm sure you'll feel better if you've put the  chain on as well."

She gazed in surprise at the pile of old locks on the  table, and then inspected the new ones on the door. "Where  on earth did you manage to get a new set of locks on a  Sunday evening?" she wondered.

Clark shrugged. "There's a locksmith in my neighbourhood.  Superman stopped an armed robbery there a while back, and  the owner was happy to do him a favour in return."

Lois stiffened. "That was very kind of him... of them," she  said woodenly.

Clark looked at her in surprise; but it didn't seem like  the right moment to ask her why she was upset with  Superman, any more than it was the right time to tell her  that her partner had been deceiving her. "Call me if  there's anything you need," he said. "Sleep well." He bent  and brushed her forehead with his lips, then he was gone.

*****

- Chapter 10 : New Perspectives -

"I am not stupidly reckless!" Lois yelled. "I just know  when to stop shilly-shallying around with background  information and go after the big story. I was an award- winning reporter before you ever arrived in Metropolis,  buster!"

Clark raised his hands defensively and drew a breath to  placate her. Suddenly a curiously defeated look came over  his face and he stepped backwards. "I'm going out," he  announced. He turned on his heel and strode across the  newsroom to disappear into the stairwell, one hand plucking  at his tie.

Lois watched him go with an angry scowl. As the door  slammed behind him she turned a stony gaze on the various  members of staff who had been watching the latest Lane-Kent  quarrel with expressions ranging from dismay to malicious  enjoyment. The onlookers guiltily dropped their eyes and  went about their business; all except Cat Grant, who  continued to regard Lois with a knowing smile playing about  her lips.

Lois turned back to her computer screen. It was the fifth  shouting match they had had in the last few days, and she  knew the tension was souring the whole newsroom atmosphere.

This one had blown up over such a stupid little thing. They  were getting nowhere by investigating Lex's background, and  Clark wanted them to turn their attention to Lex's  associates. Lois had suggested that they try more direct  action instead, such as breaking into his office to search  for incriminating information. Clark had protested that it  was too dangerous, and Lois had retorted that Superman  would save them if necessary. "You can't rely on Superman  to save you every time you're stupidly reckless," Clark had  argued, and Lois had lost her temper.

The worst of it was, she knew he was right. She herself had  seen Lex shoot a man dead; at the time she had been  grateful, even admiring, but now it made her blood run  cold. If, as Clark suspected, Lex made a habit of getting  rid of dangerous people - Toni Baines, for example, and Dr.  Carlton - then it was far too risky to tangle with him  directly until they had a better idea what they were up  against. Superman couldn't be everywhere all the time.

To add to the tension, Superman had been having a busy  week, and Clark kept walking out on her with some feeble  excuse. She might have guessed that Superman would be a  poor liar, Lois thought resentfully, but some of his  excuses were an insult to her intelligence. Remembering  he'd left a tap running? Forgetting to feed his cat? Not  that she really wanted him to put more effort into  deceiving her, she reflected - what she really wanted was  for him to stop lying to her. It hurt every time she saw  his face blank out as he tuned into something she couldn't  hear, and then searched desperately for an excuse to get  away from her. This time he hadn't even bothered; perhaps  he thought her temper was excuse enough.

But even the lies might have been bearable if Lois hadn't  been on edge all the time they were together. Her principal  problem was that it was getting harder, not easier, to keep  her physical distance from Clark while working closely with  him. He had made no attempt to touch her since he had left  her on Sunday; yet every time their hands brushed as he  passed her a cup of coffee, or he leant over her shoulder  to read what she'd written, or they got into the lift  together to go out on an assignment, her body would react  to his closeness by going into overdrive, her heart pumping  and her breath coming fast and shallow. It was usually  after such moments that she would get angry with him over  some triviality, and they would end up quarrelling.

It couldn't go on. If she couldn't keep herself under  control then she would have to go to Perry and tell him  that she couldn't work with Clark any longer. Her throat  closed up in a panic just thinking about it, and she  couldn't imagine what excuse she could give that wouldn't  reflect badly on Clark, but she would do it if she had to.

"Working hard, Lois?" a voice drawled behind her, and Lois  tensed.

"Haven't you got a mall opening to attend, Cat?" she asked  tartly.

"I think you and I should have a talk," Cat purred.

Lois swivelled her chair around and regarded Cat with  disfavour. "What do you and I have to talk about?" she  asked.

"Man trouble, Lois. You have man trouble. I know about man  trouble. Let's talk."

Lois felt her face redden. As she groped unsuccessfully for  a retort, Cat gave her an unexpectedly sympathetic smile.  "Why don't we go somewhere a bit more private? Unless you  want to discuss it here, of course..."

"Discuss what?" said Jimmy, breezing by. "Wow, Cat, nice  outfit. Don't go outside in that, will you? It wouldn't do  to get frostbite in some of those places."

Wordlessly, Lois got up and followed Cat to the conference  room. She cast herself into a chair and looked at Cat. "So  what's my trouble?" she asked ungraciously.

Cat shrugged. "You've finally decided you're in love with  Clark, but he's done something to make you angry," she said  offhandedly. "You need to decide what to do about it."

Lois winced. "The newsroom grapevine has been busy, has  it?" she snarled.

Cat studied her nails intently. "Actually, the pool on how  long it would take Clark to get you into bed petered out  for lack of interest about the time Superman showed up. Now  they've decided Clark made a pass at you, so they're  betting on how long it'll take you to get him fired."

Lois gazed at Cat, temporarily bereft of speech.

Cat shrugged. "You asked," she pointed out.

Lois cleared her throat. "So what makes you think  differently?" she asked.

"Oh, come on, Lois," Cat said, raising one elegantly  plucked eyebrow. "Observing people is my job. I read body  language the way you read..." she waved a hand vaguely,  "police reports, or whatever. You've had the hots for Clark  ever since he arrived at the Planet, but you wouldn't admit  it, even to yourself. You bristle every time he even speaks  to a marginally attractive woman. I used to get a real kick  out of raising your hackles." She shrugged dismissively.  "Now you've finally realised how you feel about him, but  you're also angry with him about something. Am I right?"

Lois's face was burning. "Did you haul me in here just to  humiliate me, or do you have a point?" she asked sourly.

Cat smiled. "My point is that I think you could do with  someone to talk to," she said. "Who else can you talk to  about it? Jimmy? Perry? Come on, Lois, spit it out. What  did Clark do to upset you?"

Lois eyed Cat with growing dislike, and opened her mouth to  tell her to mind her own business. "He lied to me about  something," she said, and clapped a hand over her mouth to  stop herself saying any more.

"About what?" Cat asked.

"I can't tell you that!" Lois protested.

Cat sighed. "Why, because I'm a gossip columnist? Lois, I  can be discreet, believe it or not, and I don't target my  colleagues. Besides, let's face it - Lois Lane and Superman  would be news. Lois Lane and Lex Luthor would be news. Lois  Lane and Clark Kent is not news."

Lois remained stubbornly silent, and Cat sighed again.  "Well, is it a little thing or a big thing? Is it a  speeding ticket, or did he kill his man in a duel out  west?"

Lois's mouth quirked in spite of herself. "It's a pretty  big thing. Oh, nothing illegal... but it changes the way I  feel about him."

"Not so much that you don't care for him any more, though."

Lois bit her lip. "No," she said in a small voice.

"So what's the big deal, Lois? You lie to him, don't you?"

"Of course I do, all the time! But..."

Cat grinned. "But it's not the same when he does it to you?  What was his excuse for lying?"

"I haven't told him I know," Lois muttered.

"Waiting for him to tell you about it himself?" Cat  whistled. "Ooh, sister, you have got it bad, haven't you?"  Lois looked at her uncertainly. Cat's mocking smile faded,  and she spoke with uncharacteristic earnestness. "Clark  isn't the devious type, Lois. He's basically an honest,  decent guy..."

"'What you see is what you get'?" Lois quoted wryly.

"Exactly. Since you're so upset about it, I'm willing to  bet this is the only thing he's ever lied to you about. If  you confront him with it, he'll probably be incredibly  relieved that it's out in the open, and he can stop  worrying about finding the perfect moment to tell you. The  way you feel about him and the way he feels about you,  you'd be crazy to let something like that come between  you."

"Well, that's just it," Lois said painfully, studying her  hands. "I don't think he feels that way about me."

Cat stared at Lois for a moment, then laughed. "Blind as  well as crazy. Lois, that man has been head-over-heels in  love with you since the day he first walked in here."

Lois glared at her. "That's just not true!" she snapped.  "He's never given me any reason to think he feels anything  more than friendship..."

Cat rolled her eyes. "Be realistic, Lois," she suggested.  "What would you have done if he'd made a pass at you the  first few weeks he was here?"

Lois thought for a moment. "I probably *would* have got  Perry to fire him," she admitted ruefully. "Or at least  transfer him to the sports page, or Timbuktu, or  somewhere."

"Exactly. And since then, you've been too busy chasing  after Superman to give Clark a second look. Clark is  horribly jealous, but there isn't much he can do about it."

Lois reddened again. "Clark isn't jealous of Superman!" she  protested. She suppressed the urge to explain just how  impossible a concept that would be.

Cat laughed again. "Of course he is. Any normal male would  be. And when you go all dreamy-eyed over Superman, Clark  gets this grim, frustrated look. Makes one feel quite sorry  for the poor guy."

Lois sat stunned. Cat's description sounded convincing, but  was it accurate? How could Clark be jealous of himself? Was  he mentally unstable? No, Clark was about the sanest person  she knew.

She realised that Cat was staring at her with frank  curiosity. "So tell me, what made you decide you preferred  Clark to Superman?" she enquired. "Not that Clark isn't a  fine specimen of manhood, of course - but you seemed to be  the only woman making any progress with Superman. What  happened, did he tell you he was gay or something?"

Lois snorted, and dissolved into helpless giggles. <If you  only knew...> "Superman's not gay," she managed to gasp out  when she had caught her breath sufficiently.

"That's fairly obvious to the casual observer," Cat  remarked. "Sounds like you have some personal experience to  go by, hmm?"

Lois sobered and shrugged, fixing Cat with a limpid gaze.  "As you said, a relationship with Superman would be big  news. I write the news, I don't want to be it. Besides,  Superman is hardly ever there - he's always off somewhere  saving the world. I'd rather have someone who's there for  me every day." The explanation even had the benefit of  being nearly true, she thought to herself.

"Imagine - Lois Lane getting all domestic," Cat drawled.  Her affected tone didn't quite disguise a hint of envy.

Lois looked narrowly at Cat. "And you?" she asked in her  turn. "What made you decide to stop trying to jump Clark's  bones and play Cupid instead?"

Cat met Lois's eyes with no trace of her normal flippancy.  "Most people treat me like either a sex object or a fallen  woman," she said. "Clark's one of the few people I've met  who treats me like a real person. He's always pleasant and  polite, even when I'm coming on to him. He could do with a  break."

She got to her feet. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have  a mall opening to attend," she said, and turned to go. At  the door she paused. "He finds my advances intimidating,"  she said abruptly. "I might have thought he was gay, only  he doesn't register any interest in men, either. You're the  only person who has that effect on him." And with that she  walked out of the room.

Lois watched, wide-eyed, as Cat collected her coat and left  the newsroom without a backward glance. Lois could scarcely  believe it; unless she was very much mistaken, Cat had just  admitted that she had lied about her conquest of Clark in  his early days at the Planet. There was no doubt that she  believed what she had said about Clark's feelings for Lois.  But could Lois believe it? Clark had known all along how  she felt about Superman, even if he hadn't known until last  week how she felt about Clark himself. Why had he never  responded to her? And what of Cat's assertion that Clark  was jealous of Superman? How could Clark mind if she found  his alter ego attractive? It didn't make any sense to her  at all.

Cat was right about one thing, at least - they needed to  talk.

*****

Jonathan and Martha watched Clark pushing the last few  bites of apple pie round and round on his plate. Jonathan  looked up at Martha and winked. "I'd better go and check on  the henhouse," he said, and got up from the table.

Martha waited until Jonathan had left the house before  laying her hand over Clark's. "What's on your mind, honey?"  she asked.

He looked up at her guiltily. "Why do you think there's  something on my mind, Mom?" he asked.

She chuckled. "Oh, Clark, normally you inhale everything in  sight. When you sit and play with your food, it means  there's something you need to talk to me about. I think the  first time I saw you do that was when you were about seven,  and you'd seen Bobby Harris bullying little Lana Lang at  school."

"Sorry," he murmured apologetically, and quickly finished  his pie. Then he sat staring blankly at the empty plate.

"It's Lois, isn't it?" Martha prompted him.

He heaved a heavy sigh. "Yeah, it's Lois," he acknowledged.  "I thought she was feeling okay by the time I left her on  Sunday. But ever since then she seems to be angry with me  about something, and we just end up arguing all the time.  It doesn't matter what I say to her. I can't figure out  what I've done wrong."

"Have you asked her?" Martha enquired gently.

"Asked her?" Clark echoed, as though Martha were speaking a  foreign language.

"Yes, Clark, asked her," Martha repeated patiently. "When  people are upset with each other, it's normal to talk about  it."

"You make it sound so easy!" Clark groaned. "Every time I  go near her she gets upset... I can hear her pulse speed  up, and within a few minutes she'll be picking a fight with  me. How am I supposed to have a meaningful discussion with  her? And as for Superman, if I even mention him she ices  over. Maybe she's still upset about my supposed friendship  with Superman. What if she asks me about him? Then what do  I tell her?"

"The truth, perhaps?" Martha asked.

Clark grimaced unhappily. "I couldn't tell her on Sunday -  she was really upset about Luthor deceiving her, and  snooping around her home. She needed me to be there for  her. And now... she's already angry with me. How's she  going to feel if I tell her I've been deceiving her, too?  It just doesn't seem like the right time..."

"Oh, Clark, honey, it's never going to seem like the right  time! The closer you get to her, the more you'll have to  lose, and the more hurt she'll be when you tell her. You do  want her to know, don't you?"

"Of course I do, Mom! I really hate lying to her. I just  don't know *how* to tell her..."

Martha looked at him sympathetically. "Of course it's  difficult, honey. But you have to be careful about leaving  it too long. You might find yourself forced to tell her at  a really bad time; or she might find out for herself  somehow."

He smiled crookedly at her. "And then she'll trust me even  less than if I tell her of my own free will," he finished.  "But that doesn't make it any easier to decide when to do  it, or how."

Martha studied his tense face. "Clark, when we talked about  this last week you were worried about the hero-worship that  Lois felt for Superman. You didn't want her to transfer  those feelings to you. Well, from what you've told me, she  doesn't seem to feel that way any more. So what are you  afraid of?"

He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. "It's just...  after what Lois said about me to Superman, I think we might  have a chance at being more than friends, at last. I'm  scared that when I tell her I'm Superman, she might never  speak to me again. I don't want to blow my chances..."

Martha shook her head. "You can't build a real relationship  on a foundation of deceit," she said firmly. "Think about  it this way: the sooner you tell her, the sooner you'll be  able to start building a relationship based on honesty  instead."

Clark's face lit up with his first real smile of the  evening. "You're right, it helps," he said. He got up from  the table and bent to give Martha a hug. "Thanks, Mom," he  said as she kissed his cheek.

"Night, honey," she said. Watching him pick up his glasses  and leave the house, she hoped that he hadn't left it too  late already.

In the yard, Clark found Jonathan gazing out over his  beloved farm and sniffing the air. "Snow before morning,"  Jonathan remarked. "It's a good thing we laid in supplies  this week." He looked sidelong at Clark. "You on your way,  son?"

"I guess." Clark stood beside his father, looking out at  the night. "Mom reckons it's time I told Lois who I am," he  said after a while.

Jonathan grunted. "That's got to be up to you," he said.

Clark lifted an eyebrow. "I was expecting you to give me  the speech about being careful," he remarked, with a grin.

"You're all grown up, son. Besides, I think they'd have  difficulty locking you in a lab any more."

"It's not just my secret," Clark pointed out. "I may be  invulnerable, but you and Mom aren't."

"Well." Jonathan pondered for a moment, then shrugged. "I  don't think your mother and I have anything to fear from  your Lois," he said. "Sooner or later you've got to take a  chance. I took a chance on your mother thirty years ago.  Paid off."

Clark nodded. "I'd better be going," he said after a pause.

Jonathan shook one hand free of his coat pocket and gripped  Clark's shoulder. "Good night, son," he said quietly. Clark  returned the gesture briefly before stepping back and  spinning into the suit.

"Night, Dad," he said, and took off for Metropolis.

*****

- Chapter 11 : Confessions -

Lois slammed the phone down in its cradle for the umpteenth  time, glaring balefully at it. Where was Clark?

Once she had decided that she and Clark needed a heart-to- heart talk, she had found it difficult to concentrate on  anything else. She had determined, via the newsroom  television, that Superman was busy with a multi-car pileup  and an overturned oil tanker on the interstate; when it  became obvious that Clark was highly unlikely to make it  back to the Planet that evening, she had finally given up  the pretence of working and gone home early.

As soon as she got home, she had checked the news again,  then showered and changed. She had never - with the  possible exception of her abortive one-on-one interview  with Lex - had so much difficulty deciding what to wear.  She wanted to look casual, but not sloppy; attractive, but  not vampy. Eventually she had settled on black tailored  trousers and a silky, cranberry-coloured shirt. She had  applied light makeup and dabbed a touch of perfume behind  each ear, wondering nervously if it was a mistake. Then she  had selected some light classical music to play in the  background while they were talking.

By the time she had finished, LNN was reporting that the  pileup had been cleared; the emergency vehicles were still  dealing with the last of the oil spill, but Superman had  left the scene. Lois had given him ten minutes and then  phoned Clark's apartment, but there had been no answer. His  extension at the Planet had proved equally fruitless.

Throughout the evening she had kept phoning his apartment,  her frustration growing. In the intervals she had cooked  and eaten a TV dinner from the freezer, scoured all the  available television channels repeatedly for any hint of  his whereabouts, and paced nervously round and round her  living room.

<Just one more try,> she thought to herself now. <I'll wait  half an hour and then phone once more. And if he doesn't  answer, I'll go to bed and watch old Ivory Tower tapes and  cry myself to sleep.> She headed for the kitchen to make a  pot of coffee, reflecting miserably that she had finished  the last of her ice cream the night before, after another  fight with Clark, and she hadn't thought to replace it on  the way home today.

As she finished making the coffee, there was a soft knock  on the door. Lois frowned as she went to answer it, hoping  that it wouldn't turn out to be Lex. She checked that the  chain was on before cautiously opening the door.

"Clark!" She felt her heart begin to pound painfully.

He gave her a tentative smile. "Hi, Lois. I hope you don't  mind me just turning up on your doorstep. I need to talk to  you... Lois, at least let me apologise!" he pleaded as she  swung the door to, heaving a relieved sigh as he realised  she was simply taking the chain off.

"Come in, Clark," she said quietly. "You don't need to  apologise for our fight. You were right - Lex is dangerous,  and I am reckless sometimes."

He blinked at her in confusion, and she had a sudden  inkling that she had forestalled a carefully prepared  speech. The insight shored up her confidence a little, and  she smiled to herself as she closed the door behind him.

As she turned to face him, he was taking in her appearance.  His eyes flickered to where the stereo was issuing the  quiet notes of the Moonlight Sonata. "This isn't a bad  time, is it?" he asked. "Are you expecting someone?"

"Not exactly," she replied, meeting his worried gaze. "I  also decided we need to talk. I've been trying to call you,  but you weren't home."

She saw his eyes shift and knew with a sinking heart that  he was groping for an excuse. She didn't want to hear  another lie. "Would you like some coffee?" she said  quickly. "I just made a pot."

"Thanks," he nodded, and she escaped thankfully to the  kitchen.

Clark took off his coat and draped it over the back of the  couch, then seated himself stiffly. He had every intention  of telling Lois everything, but he still had no idea how to  start. Her unvoiced question about his earlier whereabouts  had caught him by surprise, and the ingrained habit of a  lifetime had brought him to the brink of another lie. Now  he was also fighting the urge to flee, to run away from the  dangerous conversation, to leave Metropolis the way he had  left every other place when people had got too close to the  truth.

<This time I'm not going anywhere,> he told himself firmly.  <I want to spend my life with Lois, if she'll have me.>

Nevertheless, he was trembling and his palms were sweating  by the time Lois returned with two steaming mugs. She  placed one next to him and sat down opposite him with the  other, tucking her feet under her. She looked at him  uncertainly.

"Lois, there are -"

"Clark, I wanted -"

They spoke simultaneously, then broke off, grinning  foolishly at each other. Lois waved a hand. "You first."

He nodded, the grin fading back to apprehension. "Lois,  this isn't just about the way we've been arguing the last  few days. There are some things I need to tell you... to  explain. Like why I'm always running off." He studied her  face, but her sombre expression gave no clue to her  thoughts. "I'm S... sorry I wasn't in earlier." He couldn't  manage to frame the fateful words. He took a deep breath  and tried an oblique approach. "I was visiting my parents."

"Your parents," she repeated slowly. "In Kansas?" There was  a flash of something he couldn't identify in her eyes.  Disbelief? Apprehension? Hope? "You went there this  evening?"

<Superman flew me there...> He dismissed the automatic  excuse. The urge to flee increased, and he rose to his feet  and began to pace, clenching his fists to stop the  trembling and shoving them deep into his pockets. "I visit  my parents quite often," he said, almost at random. "We're  very close, even though I'm adopted."

"I worked that out," Lois said behind him. Then she kicked  herself for interrupting him. If this conversation was  going where she thought it might be, she desperately wanted  to hear what Clark had to say, without interruption.

Clark turned slowly. "How did you know?" he said  cautiously.

"The way you reacted when you did that article on adopted  children searching for their parents," she said. "And your  real parents couldn't both have blue eyes."

He nodded. The brief diversion had helped to steady his  nerves slightly. He moved to the window and stood gazing  out unseeingly.

"What you don't know - what nobody else knows - is how they  came to adopt me. They always wanted children of their own,  and they tried for many years. When they were told that my  mother couldn't have children, they were devastated. Then  they tried to adopt, but all the agencies they approached  turned them down. I'll never understand why, because they  were the best parents any kid could have wished for."

He paused and focused briefly on Lois's reflection in the  window. She had picked up a cushion and was hugging it to  her stomach, her attention riveted on him, her expression  still unreadable. He looked back at the street outside,  leaning his forehead against the cool glass.

"Then one evening, when they were driving home, they saw a  shooting star. They thought it was an ICBM, but when it  landed in Schuster's Field and didn't explode, they went to  investigate. It was a space ship. Inside was..." He took  another deep breath. "... a baby, about three months old.  They took it - him - home and looked after him." It was  easier talking in the third person, he found. "And when  some men showed up a few days later, asking whether anyone  had seen any debris from a Russian satellite, they lied and  said they hadn't seen anything. The only person they told  was their family doctor, and he arranged a birth  certificate and adoption papers somehow. He's dead now."

He fell silent, awaiting some reaction from Lois. Did she  understand what he was telling her? And just how angry was  she going to be?

After a moment she said quietly, "And that was you?"

"Yes." He squared his shoulders and turned to face her,  unconsciously folding his arms and bracing his legs apart.  As her eyes widened he looked down and grimaced, then made  a conscious effort to relax, leaning back against the  windowsill and resting his hands on it. "I seemed pretty  normal at first. Just a few minor differences - slightly  different temperature and heart rate, for example. And my  body doesn't respond to regular drugs, like aspirin, but  fortunately I didn't get sick much. My parents taught me to  stay away from strange doctors - put the fear of God into  me, in fact."

Lois nodded. "But later... ?" she prompted.

"As I got older, I stopped hurting myself and started  getting really strong. Unnaturally strong. Then I started  to be able to hear things nobody else could. And set things  on fire by looking at them." He swallowed hard,  remembering. "It was really scary at first. But Dad helped  me practise each new ability, in secret, until I could  control myself. And I learned to hide what I could do from  everybody. That was really hard, too - when I wanted to  help someone but I didn't dare, for fear everyone would  find out I was a freak. Sometimes I would take the risk  anyway, especially when I was travelling. Then if anyone  got suspicious, I could just move on. Until I came to  Metropolis, and I found..." <you...> "... I didn't want to  move on any more."

"So you invented Superman?"

He nodded. She understood, and by some miracle she wasn't  angry. He smiled. "Actually, you invented Superman."

"*I* did?" she said incredulously.

"You gave me the idea, when you told me to bring a change  of clothes to work. Mom made the suit, and the rest is  history. For the first time, I've been able to use all my  abilities to help, without worrying about the consequences.  And once I'm finished, I take off the suit and carry on  with my ordinary life, and nobody's any the wiser."

"Where did the 'S' insignia come from?" she asked.

"The 'S' that Mom sewed onto my first suit was in the space  ship with me. There was one embossed on the front of the  ship, too. I don't know what it means."

"What happened to the ship?"

He grimaced, remembering his loss. "Dad buried it after the  men came to town asking questions. But they must have found  it and dug it up, because it turned up in Bureau 39's  warehouse. I saw it the day we got trapped there. It  disappeared with all the other stuff, but I did manage to  hang onto this."

He crossed to the couch and picked up his coat. Holding one  pocket open, he proffered it to Lois. She looked  quizzically at him and hesitantly put her hand into the  pocket, bringing out a small sphere. "It's... a globe of  Earth," she said, bemused.

"Among other things," Clark replied. He put his coat down  and held out his hand. "Watch this."

As Lois dropped the globe into Clark's hand it burst into  radiant life, the green continents blurring and reforming  into new shapes of red. Lois gasped.

"Krypton," Clark said, looking pensively at the globe. "My  home planet. The first time I touched this globe, I  suddenly knew those two facts, though I can't explain how.  That's how I know I'm an alien, not a Russian experiment."  He put the globe down on the table, and after a moment it  faded back into its dormant state.

Lois sat still, staring at the globe as she took everything  in. Clark studied her face, her very calm making him  nervous. And yet, calm was the wrong word, he realised; she  was still clutching her cushion defensively, and her pulse  and respiration told him that she was still as taut as a  strung bow. As though the worst was yet to come.

He sat down opposite her. "Lois, what are you thinking?" he  asked quietly.

She looked at him warily, and her tension increased another  notch. "Why didn't you tell me before?" she asked. "Was it  because you didn't trust me not to print the story?"

"At first I didn't trust you," he admitted. "And with good  reason," he added with the ghost of a smile. "I'm pretty  sure you would have printed it back then - you'd have been  crazy not to. But since then - well, we've become partners,  and friends. You've met my parents. And you've been there  for Superman when he needed you. The way you protected me  last week - that just proved what I've known for a while,  that you wouldn't betray my secret."

"Why, then?" Her eyes bored into his, searching for the  truth.

He stood up again, pacing restlessly. "I was afraid you'd  be angry with me when you found out I'd deceived you. And  it's been really difficult to tell you tonight, even though  I really wanted to. It's second nature to hide what I am.  I've only ever told one person about it before, and that  was Trask, when he was threatening to kill my parents if I  didn't. Not that it helped, of course - he just tried to  kill all of us..." He shrugged. "Anyway, that's not the  whole story. Lois, I want to be completely honest with  you."

He stopped behind the couch and rested his hands on the  back, looking down at them. "Lois, the way I kissed you  last week... You must know how I feel about you. I think I  fell in love with you the first time I saw you. I wanted  you to fall in love with me, too. I didn't want the fact  that I'm Superman to affect that."

He looked at her to gauge her reaction. The tension had  gone from her posture: whatever she had feared hadn't  happened. Her face was no longer blank, but now there was  hurt and confusion in her eyes. "But, Clark, I don't  understand. You knew how I felt about Superman. I'm  embarrassed to think about the way I threw myself at you  when you were in the suit... But you never gave me any hint  of how you felt. Why did you always stonewall me?"

He waved a frustrated hand. "Lois, Superman isn't a real  person! He's just a disguise. Sure, he flies around doing  amazing things and helping people. He's noble and powerful  and he never tells a lie... and he's completely two- dimensional. He's not the real me! He doesn't have a  family, or friends, or a job, or even a sense of humour.  I'm the one who has all those things. I'm an ordinary guy.  I wanted you to fall in love with me, not with him."

Lois was bristling. "Let me get this straight, Clark. Are  you saying that because Superman isn't a real person, I  couldn't have real feelings for him?"

Clark opened his mouth and shut it again, realising that he  did think something of the sort. He tried again. "Not  exactly, Lois. It's just... I want you to care about who I  am, not just about the amazing things I can do."

Lois's eyes flashed. "You must think I'm pretty shallow,  Clark, if you think Superman's powers are all I care  about."

Clark eyed her in trepidation. The conversation was rapidly  getting out of his control, and everything he said seemed  to be getting him deeper into trouble. This time he opted  for silence.

"It's like the story of King Cophetua and the beggar maid,  isn't it? Hiding your powers so that I can fall in love  with the real you. In other words, you were concealing  information from me in case it influenced the way I feel.  That's pretty manipulative, wouldn't you say?"

Clark winced. His quiet "Yes" was lost on Lois as she got  into her stride.

"You know, I always thought that poor beggar maid would  have had a terrible shock when she discovered she was  expected to be a queen. All that royal protocol, and having  to use the right fork, and deal with the paparazzi. Because  you know, Clark, you're *not* an ordinary guy. Tabloid  photographers snoop around after you, and teenage girls  swoon over you, and little kids play with dolls made in  your image. You can't finish a conversation without having  to run away and save someone. Government agents kidnap your  friends and throw them out of airplanes, or try to burn  your family to death. Half the criminals in Metropolis are  probably plotting to get hold of some Kryptonite and kill  you. You don't even know if Kryptonians are genetically  compatible with humans!"

Clark had gone white. He bent and picked up his coat. "I'm  sorry you feel that way. I'd better go." He turned and  strode towards the door.

Lois leapt to her feet and put her fists on her hips.  "Clark Jerome Kent!" she yelled. "Don't you *dare* walk out  on me before I'm finished with you!"

He stopped. Lois stalked up behind him and pulled on his  upper arm, forcing him to turn. He stood with his hands in  his pockets, his shoulders hunched miserably, refusing to  look at her. She studied his grim, pinched face, and her  heart misgave her. She was still angry, but she hadn't  intended to hurt him.

She folded her arms and glared at him pugnaciously. "Clark,  have you any idea what it feels like, thinking you're in  love with two men at the same time?"

She watched as his face came alive again and his shoulders  straightened. It astonished her to realise just how much he  cared about her. He even seemed to grow an extra inch  before he collected himself and his feet settled back onto  the floor. He lifted one hand as if to touch her cheek; but  looking at her face, he changed his mind and fiddled  nervously with his glasses instead.

"Lois, you're right, I haven't been fair to you. I'm sorry.  As God is my witness, I never meant to hurt you."

Her face softened, but the hurt still showed in her eyes.  "Clark, I trusted you. It's been a long time since I  trusted anyone... I still trust you to protect me from Lex  and the bad guys, but I need more than that. I need to be  able to trust you to tell me the truth. The fact that  you're bigger and stronger and faster than I am doesn't  give you the right to hide things from me. Partnership - an  equal partnership - is about sharing things."

He considered her words earnestly, and nodded. "I hated  lying to you. It'll be a huge relief to be able to tell you  the truth from now on."

"Promise?"

"You drive a hard bargain. All right, I promise...  partner." He held out his hand, and Lois shook it solemnly.

"I'm glad we've got that sorted out," she said, relaxing  and smiling at him.

He smiled back. "So where do we go from here?"

"Well, first of all, come and sit down again." She led the  way back to the couch and sat down at one end, turning to  face Clark and tucking one leg up onto the seat.

Clark picked up her coffee and made to hand it to her, then  hesitated. "We seem to be doomed to let our coffee get  cold," he observed. "I'll heat it up if you like... but I  won't bother with the microwave this time."

He looked enquiringly at Lois, who nodded. Clark started to  pull his glasses down to look over the top, then stopped.  "I guess I don't need to wear these around you any more,"  he remarked in a wondering tone. He took them off and laid  them on the table, sitting down beside Lois on the couch.

"Are they just for disguise?" Lois asked, surprised. "You  wore them before Superman..."

"No, they remind me not to use my powers when there are  other people around," he explained. "My parents got them  for me when I started setting fires. The glass blocks most  of the heat energy, in case I forget."

Lois studied his face as he focused his gaze on the coffee  mug. In a few seconds the liquid was steaming, and he  handed it to her and picked up his own mug. She took a  long, welcome drink, thinking how the lack of glasses made  him look like a blend of the two men she knew.

"You're wrong, you know," she said abruptly. "About  Superman being just a disguise. I know it seems like that  to you, but that's not what other people see when they look  at him. His powers are awesome. If he chose, he could take  over the world and turn the whole human race into his  slaves, and there's very little we could do it about.  Instead, he chooses to use his powers only to help people  in need. He's unfailingly gentle and polite, except with  crooks. He doesn't get any material reward for what he  does. He even donates all the proceeds from the Superman  merchandise to charity. He makes one heck of a role model."

Clark had ducked his head to avoid her gaze, but Lois could  see that his ears had gone pink. "But that's what I mean,  Lois," he protested feebly. "I'm not really like that. I  don't need to oppress people to get along - I'm perfectly  happy just being a reporter."

She shrugged. "Where else does Superman get those qualities  from, Clark? Sure, you're not like that all the time. And  I'm glad - who could measure up to someone that perfect?  But you're not just an ordinary farmboy from Kansas,  either. The real you is somewhere in between. I don't think  I know the real Clark Kent... though I started getting to  know him last week, when he didn't know he was supposed to  be a two-dimensional cartoon character." She grinned. "He  was quite a fun guy. I'm hoping to get to know him better."

He looked up at her uncertainly. The love he could see in  her eyes warmed him from head to toe. Something was still  puzzling him, though. "You're taking this very calmly,  Lois. I expected you to be... well, livid, to be honest. I  thought you'd be throwing things at me."

She blushed and looked down at her empty mug. "I *was*  livid," she said guiltily. She looked up at his baffled  face through her eyelashes. "I worked it out last week,"  she confessed. "After I left you with your parents, I came  home and, well, I got to thinking. Everything just suddenly  fell into place."

His eyebrows had shot up. "You knew?" he said  incredulously. "And you didn't say anything? You made me go  through all that..." He gestured helplessly.

"Clark, I was really hurt," she answered defensively. "I  thought you didn't trust me... and I was so confused. I'd  just admitted to Superman that I was attracted to Clark,  and then I'd kissed Superman, and I couldn't understand how  I could be in love with both of you. And then I realised  you were the same person... only neither of you had ever  shown any interest in me. I thought you couldn't possibly  love me - and that hurt even worse than not trusting me."

Clark put up a gentle hand to caress her cheek. "I'm sorry,  Lois," he said, his voice deep and sincere.

She nodded. "I needed to hear you tell me, Clark. That  you're Superman... and that you love me."

He reached out a hand and removed the coffee mug from her  nervous fingers, setting both mugs down out of harm's way.  Then he put an arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her  closer until her face was nestled against his shoulder. He  stroked her hair with his free hand. "I do love you, Lois.  More than I can say."

She closed her eyes, feeling the softness of his shirt  beneath her cheek, listening to the comforting sound of his  heartbeat. It soothed away her insecurities, but at the  same time it evoked ghosts from her past.

"I love you too, Clark - but I'm scared," she blurted out.  "What happens if it doesn't work out for us? What if it all  ends badly, and we can't even work together?"

His hand stilled while he puzzled that one through. After a  while he said thoughtfully, "I'm not planning to steal your  story and dump you, Lois."

A chuckle shook her slight frame. "I suppose Superman is  already Man of the Year. He doesn't need Pulitzer prizes."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. Clark Kent, the Planet's second- best investigative reporter - by the narrowest of margins -  has every intention of winning a Pulitzer one day. But I'd  rather win it with you than without you." His arm tightened  around her. "Lois, I'm happy that you know about me, and  how I feel about you. I'm not in a hurry to rush into  anything. Let's just take it one step at a time."

She lifted her head to look at his face, the corners of her  mouth turning up. "You mean, we should date?"

"That sounds like a good idea." His eyes danced. "Hmm,  let's see... would you like to go out for dinner this  weekend? If that works out okay, we could try something  more adventurous, like a movie. And maybe after the third  date or so, I could take you home to meet my parents."

She laughed. "I'd like that. I need to thank your mother  for something she said last week."

He quirked an eyebrow at that, but decided that it was  probably best not to know. He grinned at her. "So, now that  the Planet's best investigative reporter has landed the  unique, one-on-one, no-holds-barred interview with Superman  - what questions have you got for him?"

She looked up at him speculatively. "Oh, I'm not in a very  hard-nosed mood just at the moment. There's only one thing  I really want to know."

"And that would be?"

Her gaze drifted down to his mouth. "When did you last  shave?"

His eyebrows snapped together, and she was delighted to see  him look totally disconcerted for a second. "Just before I  came here," he admitted, with a trace of embarrassment.  Then the import of the question sank in, and a twinkle  stole into his eyes. "Why, Ms. Lane," he said solemnly.  "What are you suggesting? My mother told me never to kiss  before the first date."

"Welcome to the big city, farmboy," she retorted, giving  him a sultry look. "You'll find a lot of things are a bit  different here." She placed her hands flat against his  chest. "Anyway, I don't recall you letting that  consideration stop you last week..."

He grinned, and then his face grew intent. As he bent his  head, Lois had the dizzying sense that she was the complete  focus of his attention; that in all the world, nothing else  mattered to him at this moment. She stroked her hands  across his chest, up to his shoulders, and turned her face  up to his.

Their last kiss had taken her by surprise, and they had  both been swept away by passion. This time the fires of  passion were banked. The kiss was gentle and sweet. It  spoke of comfort given and received, of mutual homecoming,  and of commitment to a new beginning together.

* fade to black *

Table of Contents

All Stirred Up

-Introduction-

- Chapter 1 : Homecoming -

- Chapter 2 : Revelation -

- Chapter 3 : Reflections -

- Chapter 4 : Three's a Crowd -

- Chapter 5 : Phantoms -

- Chapter 6 : The Return of Superman -

- Chapter 7 : Two Plus Two Plus Two Equals... -

- Chapter 8: Son of Nightfall -

- Chapter 9: Aftermath -

- Chapter 11 : Confessions -