FREEDOM OF THE PRESS
A sequel / alternate ending to 'The Green Glow of Home'
Author: OpportuneMoment
Disclaimer: Oh, how I wish I owned 'Superman', the things I would do with him… but I do not, nor the show 'Lois and Clark - The New Adventures of Superman'… please don't sure me for borrowing my heroes.
Note: Aha, how we fanfic writers can twist the facts… this sequel is rather AU as my Trask did not die at the end of The Green Green Glow of Home. He just comes back to cause more mischief… enjoy!
Chapter One - Loose Ends
Clark sat back in his swivel chair with a huff. He looked over at Lois' desk - she was tapping away with gusto. Yep, she was loving every minute of it, her hands flying over the keyboard almost as fast as his own could, given the right motivation. Except that his was a story he truly did not want to write.
Since taking his job at the Planet and making his first appearance in Metropolis as a larger-than-life hero, many of his best articles had been autobiographical. Not that he minded reporting on himself most of the time - it could be considered quite a challenge to keep the objective voice of the journalist when the dirty reality of the events filled his mind, and to create an article out of only the details that Clark Kent should be aware of, leaving out some of the best, and worst, bits simply because people would wonder too much about his sources.
Sure, he could write about the great and powerful Man of Steel. But this was different. This mostly concerned the great and powerful Man of Steel's greatest weakness. Lois was eagerly bashing out the story of Bureau 39, a secret military group, possibly government-sanctioned, though that wasn't clear yet, whose sole purpose was to search out and neutralise any extra-terrestrial threat. Lois turned over another page of the enormous stack of notes next to her and continued to type.
Clark was to write the other half of the article, concerning the discovery of a certain green rock and the belief held by Jason Trask, the crazed Bureau 39 commander, that it could actually harm or even kill Superman. Clark stared at the computer screen, feeling just as uneasy as he had every day since they had returned from Smallville. He thought he had removed the threat to himself as much as he could: after that hated green stone had smashed against the rock in the pond, Clark and his father had snuck out there late that night. Clark stood way back as Jonathan fished out the still faintly-glowing shards with a net and dropped them into a lead-lined box, and then flew into the upper atmosphere and hurled it as far as possible into the freezing black of space. But the man who had found it, the man who knew its true power, and, more chillingly, the man who knew the true identity of the Man of Steel, was still at large.
With a grimace Clark recalled that that was entirely his own fault. He had held Trask there against the rock, fist raised, ready to deliver a blow that would surely kill, and he had stopped. He had let him go, because no matter how unworthy and abhorrent a specimen Trask was, he was human, and Clark would never take a human life. The moment his back was turned though, Trask had pulled a gun, only to be shot by one of Clark's oldest friends. He'd thought it was over, that he was safe, but when he and the Sheriff had gone to retrieve the body, it was gone. His x-ray vision had turned up a bullet-proof vest with a single hole in the bushes nearby. The worst part was that Clark had no idea if the piece of meteor rock he disposed of was the only piece. How much more could there be out there, and how much was still in the hands of that maniac?
Rachel had promised to keep looking for their alien-hunter, but that aside it seemed that everyone was safe, and Lois, Clark and Jimmy returned to Metropolis to compose a tale of drama and intrigue that would have the city entranced. Newspaper sales would soar...
"How's it coming?" Lois' question dragged Clark out of his melancholy and back to his desk. "Are you finished?" she pressed. The dark look he returned her needed no accompanying words. They'd been over this before, in fact their argument had lasted almost the entire drive back from Kansas. Sighing, she hit 'save' and got up from her chair, stretching her back out before coming to perch of the edge of his desk.
"Don't tell me it isn't over, Clark. I know it's not over. But at the very least we can get an article out there which tells the world that this whacko exists, that he butted heads with Superman and that he lost. That's news."
"I'd feel better if we were writing the capture of Jason Trask."
"We will be, but who knows how long it will take, and we can't just sit on this."
Clark folded his arms stubbornly. Lois glared back, her placatory tone evaporating as she looked at his petulant expression.
"You don't have to like it, Kent. The Chief says, we do. That's the way a newsroom works."
"By Elvis' golden microphone, did I just hear Lois Lane say those words?" Perry's voice boomed from just behind them, "Someone get that in writing!" Lois scowled and turned to face the editor-in-chief.
"Just giving farmboy here a bit of a pep-talk. He doesn't want to write the Smallville story." She sounded like a tattling child, and had the same effect. Perry turned his laser on Clark, then.
"Kent, the Daily Planet doesn't bury a dynamite story because one reporter decides it'll ruin his memories of corn-festivals and square-dancing. Hands to keyboard, now!"
Reluctantly Clark set to work, and when Perry had stalked off to scare the life out of some copy-boy or other, Lois perched on his desk again, reading as he typed, absently playing with her hair or the paperclips on his little magnet. Clark both loved and hated it when she did this. The perfectionist part of him wanted her to go away until he could simply hand her the finished article, refined and revised to a masterpiece of journalistic excellence, not to have her watch as he changed sentences round and even made the occasional typo. But the part of him that simply could not shake his abiding adoration for the infuriating woman loved to have her sit so close, to have the delicate scent of her hair perfume his small workspace, and found the silly habit of arranging his Post-It notes into neat lines utterly endearing.
"You thought of a name for the rock yet?"
He had. Better yet he knew the name for the rock, though how he couldn't explain, it was just something he felt, rather like knowing the word for rain or mountains. This stuff was Kryptonite, and he told her so.
"Kryptonite. Hm. I like it."
I don't, Clark thought grimly to himself, the terrible thought still lurking at the back of his mind that somehow Trask was in possession of the only other known piece of the rock, the one which Wayne Irig had sent to the lab for analysis and which had subsequently gone missing. There was a nightmare waiting to happen.
Lois and Clark's article went to press at 3pm, after the boys in graphics had added a rather elaborate artistic representation of Kryptonite and one of Jimmy's dramatic photos of Clark being manhandled into a van by Trask. They'd finished earlier than usual, since after around fifteen minutes of sitting on his desk Lois had return to her own, leaving Clark free to surreptitiously type at super-speed.
By 4 o' clock, Lois was idly shifting files around in her computer, looking at the clock and counting the minutes till she could leave. She knew she should be using this time wisely, doing something, anything to help track down Trask. The whole business seemed to be worrying Clark a great deal - she guessed he was afraid his parents might come under attack again. Lois was anxious for a different reason. It still disturbed her that with all that had happened, people being put in danger over an alien rock, a zealous ET-hunter still on the loose, Superman had not put in an appearance. Didn't he care that Trask was on the warpath, or that his supposed friend Clark's family was still vulnerable? Above all, she was afraid for the hero she loved. Somewhere out there was a madman with a weapon against Superman.
On the dot of five, she was headed for the elevator with barely a backward wave in answer to Clark's friendly "Goodnight Lois!".
As she approached her apartment, a chill ran down her spine at the sight of the busted lock, the door chain dangling and broken, the door ajar.
She pushed the door open slowly, silently. Are they still inside? She didn't know whether she wanted to catch whoever it was in the act, or hope that they were long gone, presumably with whatever they wanted to find in her place.
She stalked around her apartment like a nervous cat, peering round the corner into her kitchen bedroom and noticing with a shudder that her bedclothes were all messed up. She'd made her bed this morning as always, but now the whole room looked like a massacre in an aviary. Feathers were still drifting around in the atmosphere and from the slashed pillows and her duvet was haemorrhaging eider down… she must have missed the intruders by less than half an hour. The thought made her heart skip briefly as she retreated into the lounge. The drawers there had been rifled through and the bookcase was in disarray, but thankfully they had spared her furniture. She flopped down on the sofa, still shaken, and considered her next move. She could start clearing up her bedroom, but if she called the police they would need photos of it. She should really find out what was missing, but her sudden tiredness seemed to ache her very bones. Irrationally, she felt she might cry. She longed for a friendly face, someone to hug and not press her with questions…
The airy curtains lifted a little in a gust of wind. A soft swoosh she was sure she recognised whispered outside her window.
She went over and drew the floaty cloth aside, her breath catching at the sight of him. His usually bright colours muted by the dusk, he hovered effortlessly, just below her. Lois' eyes went glassy with relief and gratitude, and Superman's gentle smile of greeting dropped away into worry.
"Lois? Are you alright?"
She stepped back to allow him to alight on her windowsill and drop softly in. His hands went instinctively to her shoulders, his eyes holding hers.
"Yeah, sure," she said, but aware that she sniffed as she did so, "It's just your average apartment-tossing. Maybe they wanted cash or jewellery…"
At the mention of the robbery Superman had quickly scanned the whole apartment, noted the chaos of the bedroom and checked for any unpleasant additions. Thankfully there were no bombs set to go off any second.
"Have you called the police?"
Lois shook her head wearily. "Maybe tomorrow. I'm tired and they'd be here for hours…"
"Well, in that case maybe you shouldn't stay here tonight."
Lois looked at him, a thrill of curiosity at what he might mean by that. Was he inviting her to his place? Did he even have a place?
"If you're offering--"
"I, err, meant that perhaps you could stay with Clark. He's sort of the reason I came tonight."
Clark. How did she know that would be his first suggestion? They were friends, sure, but for all the overtures of affection she'd made to him, some subtle and some downright blatant, her hero seemed determined to channel her in the direction of her colleague. Clark had had a crush on her from day one, she knew all too well. His feelings for her were as obvious as her own for Superman. But was Superman actively trying to match-make between Clark and herself?
"He said you seemed anxious about something when you left work, and I thought you might like to… see a friendly face."
Lois smiled at the way he seemed to have read her earlier thoughts perfectly. Perhaps it was her tiredness or the fright of the break-in which dissolved the voice of propriety in her head and made her take two small steps towards him. Two small steps and she was against his warm, strong chest. She felt his breath quicken in surprise before his arms folded round her and she felt safe, cared for.
She waited for him to pull away, to decide that this was too awkward. Instead his hand found her hair, stroked it gently as he held her to himself in silence.
"Superman," she mumbled softly into the 'S' on his chest, "I don't want to go anywhere tonight, don't want to stay at Clark's, but I…" No, she couldn't bring herself to say it. If she asked him to stay with her, he would only have to turn her down, and that would ruin the sweetness of his embrace, the redeeming glory of a stress-filled evening.
He looked down at her without releasing his gentle hold.
"You aren't going to call the police are you." It wasn't a question, he knew her well enough to understand her lack of faith in cops. What could they do? Take photos of a big mess and dust for prints which wouldn't find any match. Her slight shake of the head proved his assumption. Sighing softly, he walked forwards until the back of Lois' legs touched her sofa, then let her down gently onto it.
"Stay there," he said softy. A sudden rush of air and a streak of red and blue blurred round her apartment. Almost before she could blink he was standing in front of her again.
"That's better." Lois' apartment was spotless, the drawers replaced, coffee table and surfaces of the kitchen all tidy and, as she craned her head round to per through the door to her bedroom, she saw that the huge mass of feathers and shredded bedclothes were all gone and her bed was made up fresh and clean. The apartment was soft-lit with lamps making the place feel cosy and secure.
Lois smiled her thanks and invited him to sit with a gesture.
"Do you mind if I ask what was worrying you, before this, I mean?" He asked as he sat. She did remember, and at once was both grateful for the opportunity to put her nagging questions to him, and at the same time loath to get into anything unpleasant right now.
"It's just the story, you know, Bureau 39, Trask still being out there somewhere--"
"And you want to know I'm working on it." He finished for her.
"Well, don't make it sound like I'm your nagging editor or something, but, yeah."
Lois' breath caught again as Superman gently took her hand into his own. "Lois, if you're afraid for me, don't be…" he looked down then, and she wondered what it was that made him unable to meet her eyes. "I'm a-afraid enough." He breathed softly to the floor.
Superman, afraid? The thought shook her somehow. There'd been moments since her return from Smallville when she doubted the rock even existed, despite Clark's assertion that it was all very real and very dangerous. Superman had never even encountered it; he hadn't shown his face in Kansas at all. But here, now, on her sofa the Man of Steel admitted to being afraid…
"This stuff, Clark called it 'Kryptonite'… it's really that bad? How come you never told me about it before?"
"Would you want to advertise the existence of something like that? I've felt it's effects, and I'm willing to bet that Trask has a stash of it somewhere," he straightened up, then, a hardness in his eyes as though he tried to forcibly crush the weakness he felt, "But no matter what, I won't let him stop me from doing my job, protecting the city and the people I care about."
It was a fine speech, Clark thought, all words and bluster to mask the insidious fear that had clawed at him for the last week. Last week he was invulnerable, invincible and no self-made-colonel with delusions of alien invasion could have shaken him. But he'd felt the fire in his gut when the green rock was nearby, tasted blood in his mouth and the pain of a sound beating, without his super powers to protect him. He'd had the sense to insist that his mom and dad leave Smallville and go on an extended trip to visit a cousin in Montana until Trask was safely behind bars, but a heightened sense of foreboding still greeted him every morning as he waited for the madman to make his next move.
Lois saw the determination mixed with some other, deeper emotion move through Superman's stormy eyes. How strange to see the first touch of fear she'd ever seen in him and discover that it only made her love him more. Boldly she brought her hand up to his brow to move back the lock of hair that hung over his eyes, and captured his strong chin his her fingers.
"You're right. No man with a rock is stopping Superman! You've squashed bigger bugs than this one - we'll just find where his nest is and hit it before he can whip out his bit of meteor."
Clark had to smile at this. She made it all sound so simple. Her faith was unshakable, and it warmed his heart. He'd come here tonight to comfort her, after one of her newsroom rants had revealed her anger that Superman wasn't even acknowledging the idea of Kryptonite and the potential threat. He'd flown up to her window to tell her that the great Man of Steel was on the case, and instead been lulled by her softness into an admission of weakness. Now she was the one giving him strength, she was the hero, rescuing him.
Silence fell as he looked into her eyes, past them to the fiery woman inside. Her slim fingers held his chin, and she leaned closer.
He shouldn't do this, Clark told himself, shouldn't get into this intimate situation with her. The heavens knew how much he wanted it, but she didn't really know him… this would just be playing on her Superman crush. Her eyes were closed as she inched towards him, her face peaceful, her trust in him absolute. Would she ever go to kiss Clark with the same gentle assurance?
Her breath was warm on his lips, and all arguments seemed suddenly groundless. His hands slid into her hair and he gave himself into the sensation of her kiss.
Lois' heart was fit to burst with anticipation as she closed her eyes and leaned in towards him, her sensible mind telling her that this was too much for him, that he would ever-so-gently rebuff her offer of intimacy. But her heart wondered, and hoped, that the powerful feelings she knew where there, no matter how he tried to hide them, would take over. At the first brush of his lips on hers, she felt his surrender and rejoiced.
Gentleness became passion and the kiss deepened, both so willing now to lose their concerns in each other's arms, it seemed nothing would ever part them. But they did part, and Lois' intense eyes met the cloudy depths of her hero's.
"Stay with me…" she whispered. He sighed, trying to form a sensitive refusal, but she interrupted with a squeeze of his hands, "Just… can you hold me until I fall asleep?" It was cliché and she knew it, but she couldn't let him just fly off after a moment like that. She needed to know that one kiss on the spur of the moment wasn't all she would ever have from him.
Clark was walking a very fine line, he knew, between surrendering to his feelings for Lois, giving more of himself than he should, and going too far the other way: refusing her, hurting her. The knowledge also came back to him that she had been traumatised this evening, her privacy violated, and he should be easing her feelings, not compounding them by abandoning her because of some oh-so-high moral code. He scooped her up from the couch and floated over to her bedroom, now spotless and welcoming. Laying her down gently on the bed, he felt another stab of conscience - he should not be in here with her…
Her arms did not leave his shoulders as he let her down, but insistently pulled him next to her onto the soft duvet.
"Lois, I… I should go. This is too--"
"I know." Lois breathed in return. She hated to admit it, but she could see in his eyes this was uncomfortable for him, too much too fast. For herself, she would have it all, live the dream of having Superman as her lover, her soul-mate… but she didn't suppose for a second that his honour would allow him to 'take advantage' of her tonight.
"Superman, please, just promise me one thing," she asked quietly as he stood to leave, "The next time I see you, don't do what I think you will and pretend that tonight never happened."
Clark had to admit that she knew him pretty well. He supposed that, faced with the awkwardness of it, he probably would have thrown up a wall of bland friendship between them and glossed over the details of this evening.
She stood up before him, earnestness in her face. "We kissed…"
"I remember." He replied with a wry smile which softened the intensity of Lois' appeal a little.
"Then you don't… regret it?" Lois hadn't realised before, but this was the thing she really feared: the feeling that it was a mistake which might drive him away.
Clark didn't know how to answer that. He regretted that she wasn't really aware who she was being so intimate with, but the rest of it… he stepped to her, taking her shoulders and capturing her mouth in a lingering kiss once again. As he released her, breathlessly he asked, "That answer your question?"
Lois clung to his chest, her mind reeling and shouting with the joy of it. No mistake, no regret - he loved her…
"There's just one thing I do regret, Lois," he began, and just like that her heart sank into a pit of ice in her stomach as he put her to arm's length to look in her eyes. She returned his gaze with trepidation. "That right now this can't be… more, because--"
Lois felt a bitter chill at her core - he was going to crush her dreams, tell her that they would never be together due to some stupid fear or rule about his alien nature…
"There's too much about me you don't know. You don't know who I really am everyday, where I go when Superman's not needed," His heart was beating a hundred-fold… he could just tell her, right now, I am Clark Kent.
But it wasn't right - something held him back from those words which could at once liberate and condemn him. Tonight he had held Lois, kissed her and allowed his love free reign for just a while. Tonight was perfect, and those words would ruin it. He felt keenly that truth should come from his true self, not his disguise. Clark would tell her…
He felt the tension in Lois' whole body, as though she held herself in readiness for a blow. The pleasure that had danced in her eyes just seconds ago had drained away and only despair replaced it. This would not do.
"You don't know me, Lois," he repeated, but he brought his face closer to hers, let reassurance and love flow into his gaze, "But you will. I promise you that tomorrow you will see me, not like this," he indicated his gaudy uniform, "But the real me. And then…" he didn't finish the sentence, didn't need to. He'd made it as plain as he could that his identity was the only thing keeping them apart.
This evening was getting to be really exhausting, Lois thought. Her emotions being dragged from one end of the spectrum to another in the space of ten heartbeats, it was almost too much. She'd expected him to pronounce a sentence of doom on the possibility of a relationship, but instead he'd promised to reveal his most closely guarded truth, to release himself from the bonds of secrecy and trust her.
"No more secrets?" she asked him - it was almost too much to believe from the most introverted man she'd ever known. He nodded, then slipped his hands from her shoulders, down her arms as he moved back, holding her hands for another moment.
"Tomorrow, Lois." He smiled, and Lois knew the gleam of anticipation she saw there was reflected in her own face. In a rush of air he was gone, her gauzy curtains dancing in the breeze. Lois hugged herself and flopped back onto the bed, breathless with the thrill of it. Superman had lain next to her here… Superman had promised to reveal all to her. She remembered the meaningful 'and then' at the end of his speech and he mind flew back to his embrace, the intensity of his kiss... Does that answer your question?
He wanted her too… and tomorrow, the barrier between them would be lifted. Unable to keep from speculating, she started to run through possible scenarios of the next day's revelation. Would she receive a phone call at her desk calling her to some rendezvous at the park, where he would arrive as his true self? What would he wear? Or would he turn up at the Planet with a bunch of flowers and kiss her where she stood? She'd have fun explaining that to her colleagues…
And poor Clark, she thought suddenly, amazed that her mind had at this moment chosen to focus on her devoted partner. He would be devastated when she began a passionate relationship with some man she seemed outwardly to have just met. He would worry at her apparently rash decision to take up with a stranger, and his poor faithful heart would be crushed with jealousy for the one man in the world he could never compete with. Clark was so sweet, a true friend… Lois had the irrational feeling that she was betraying him somehow, even when there had never been anything between them.
Damn it, her thoughts of Clark were threatening to poison the happiness she felt about her possible future with Superman. She would not have this perfect night ruined. Lois closed her eyes, saw the 'S' on his chest, the deep pools of his eyes as they promised so much to her… as she drifted off to sleep the last thing she recalled dreaming was her hero coming to her in her bed…
And suddenly he was writhing beside her in agony. "What's wrong, Superman, what's happening?!"
He looked past her to the other side of the room, where Trask stood, his malicious grin illuminated by the sickly green glow of the rock in his hands.
"You want to know who he is Miss Lane? You really want to KNOW?!"
"NO!" Lois jerked awake, her arm flying to the other side of the bed where Superman… no, he wasn't there, and the far side of the room was bathed in the soft light of the dawn. Not a maniac in sight.
End of Part One
