DISCLAIMER: All the characters and most places belong to DC comics, not me etc...

A SUPER CHRISTMAS

by Pony R.

It was the evening of the day before Christmas Eve. Unlike almost every other day of the year, the bullpen of The Daily Planet was almost totally empty of people. It was almost eerie. Like you might expect a tumbleweed to blow through the large room. It was nearly 8PM, and the only two people left on the City Room floor were Perry White, Editor-In-Chief of the greatest newspaper in Metropolis, who was in his glassed-in office, and Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for said great metropolitan newspaper. It seemed the impending holiday was giving Superman a respite.

Perry had been watching Clark for some time, now, although the Kryptonian wasn't aware of it. Clark was trying to finish up on a story that had been bedeviling him for the last week, and actually relished being here without the distractions of the usual crowd of coworkers.

Without the distraction of Lois.

Clark was just putting a final paragraph on his story, when he heard Perry's door open, followed by the man's gruff voice: "Kent, everybody's been gone for the Holidays since this afternoon. Why are you still here?"

Clark looked up from his desk, and pushed his glasses up on his nose. Perry had seen him do that so many times before starting to speak to people, that he secretly dubbed it, 'The Kent Maneuver.'

"Gee, Mr. White, I just wanted to take the opportunity to get this as close to finished as possible before Christmas," Clark explained.

"Clark, come in here for a minute, would you?"

As he rose to comply, it suddenly hit Clark that Perry had called him 'Clark,' not his usual 'Kent.' Entering The Chief's office, Perry gestured to one of the stuffed brown leather chairs in the room. Clark sat, wondering what was on his boss' mind.

"Clark, a while back I picked up a nice Chardonnay while I was visiting California. I'd be honored if you'd have a drink with me," he intoned while producing a couple of wine glasses from a cabinet along one wall.

"Uh, gee, Mr. White... uhh, okay," Clark stammered. Perry White was many things, but gregarious was not usually one of them.

"Clark, I've always prided myself on giving my reporters the opportunity to express themselves without interference, beyond that which is a part of the editing process and within certain stylistic bounds. And I've tried to allow my friends... the few true friends I have... the space they need to live their own lives without judgement from me."

Clark couldn't begin to imagine where this was going, so he merely kept quiet, and took a sip of the wine Perry had poured. Smooth, slightly woody. Nice, delicate aftertaste.

"I know how hard your job can be, Clark. I've been there. I want you to know that you are respected around here for the high-quality of writing and investigating you do. Lois has definitely rubbed-off on your work." The old man looked at his wine for a moment, as if he was working-up the guts to say something difficult. Clark hoped this wasn't where the boss gives him the arm-around-the-shoulder treatment before firing him.

"It pains me to have to watch you struggling with your little balancing act every day."

Clark looked slightly askance at The Chief. What exactly was the man trying to say?

"I normally don't hand out Christmas gifts to my reporters. But, after knowing you for the last year or so, I just wanted to do something for you. In exchange for all you've done for us."

"Well, gee, Mr. White..." Clark started to gush.

"That's part of the problem. Man, don't you think it's about time you dropped the 'Mister' all the time and just called me Perry? You've certainly earned the right." Perry was staring Clark right in the eye, now.

All Clark could come up with was, "Well, I do love my work..."

"That's not what I mean, and I think you know it. But, one of us has to go first, so I'll do it. I can only try to imagine how lonely you must be in this world. I just want you to know that..." Perry seemed to actually be screwing-up his resolve. Clark actually found himself nervous, for real. Not the Clark Kent persona nervousness. But, really nervous.

"...That you don't have to sneak out of here in the elevator shafts anymore." Perry finished, his eyes never leaving Clark's. The younger man looked like he was about to drop his glass. He started to sputter, and his trademark grin began to spread across his face, and Perry could tell Clark was gearing-up to try to salvage his cover. Perry held up a hand for silence.

"Clark, I realized your secret... Superman's secret, a while back. I'm not trying to out you, here. I just thought that if you knew you could be yourself with me, it might make things... that little bit less complicated. I can't imagine what being a superhero is like. But, I've watched you since I first met you, Clark. You are the kind of man I'm proud to have on my staff. Not just because you're Superman. As a whole person, you've been a pleasure to know. And... well, I never did get to properly thank you for saving my life when that globe fell. So, thank you... And, don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

With that, Perry White stood and offered his hand to Clark, who after a stunned moment, stood as well, all pretense of 'bumbling' Clark gone. He shook Perry's hand with warmth and affection, and almost had to fight back tears. What an amazing relief it was to be able to truly be himself in the presence of a man whom Clark had admired from the start. Perry raised his glass, and Clark did the same. With a clink, they touched, and both men drank deeply.

"Wow," Clark sighed, sitting back down.

"Yeah," Perry agreed. "Can I ask you a question, though? It's personal, so if you don't want to answer..."

"Please, go right ahead," Clark smiled.

"Are you ever going to tell Lois? You know how she feels about, well... you."

Clark Kent leaned toward Perry, and almost in a conspiratorial way, replied, "She already knows."

"Really?" Perry gasped. He had no idea Lois was 'in the loop.'

Clark smiled at the memory of the day he'd revealed his identity to her. "Yeah, and she almost killed me with her shoe!" Both men chuckled heartily at the image of Lois Lane and her Flying-Heels-Of-Death coming after Superman. "Let's just say I kept about 10 feet above her for a few days, just out of striking range!" Perry laughed out loud at that. The image was just too savory.

"Well, considering that we're sort of baring it all...you might not know this, but Jason is my son," Clark added.

Perry was looking into his glass. "That somehow makes perfect sense. Did you know she was pregnant before you left?" There was no judgement in his voice, though Clark wouldn't have blamed the old man if he'd called Clark a bastard and threw him out of the building.

"Believe me, Chief, if I had known that, I would NEVER have left. And, no matter how much I regret it, I'll still never have those first five years with him. As far as I'm concerned, I may be his father, but Richard will always be his Dad."

Both men were silent for a moment, until Perry White muttered, "You're truly a good man, Clark Kent."

With a lump in his throat, Clark looked at his boss. The Chief. The Great Gray Mastodon of The city's greatest newspaper. "You have no idea how honored I am by your words. Thank you. For everything, Chief."

The older man rose, as did Clark. Shaking hands with the Kryptonian one more time, he stated, "No, once again... thank you. And, by the way, if ever there's an emergency you need to cover, and you have to get out quick, you can always use my window! But, one last thing..."

Clark finished his wine with a last swallow. "Yes, sir?"

Eyes twinkling, Perry White went for the last word: "Don't call me 'Chief!'"