Looking for a Hero
by Shadowfax
Romance
Rated PG
Usual disclaimers apply; I don't own the characters and no copyright infringement is intended. Thanks to the original creators of Superman and to Deborah Joy Levine, et. al.
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Looking for a Hero
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Lois stared moodily into her coffee cup, too lost in gloomy contemplation to speak when her partner and friend, Clark Kent, seated himself at the table next to her. "Ready for a refill?" he asked, swishing his own full mug of coffee before leaning over to peer into Lois's cup.
"No . . . ." she said, her voice indicating that there was no point in it, what was the use, they'd all be dead in a hundred years anyway . . . .
"Something the matter?" asked her ever-cheerful friend.
"Did you see Superman?" asked Lois, ignoring his kind inquiry.
"When? Since the clone . . .? No - I mean yes, for a minute. Why?"
Not answering, Lois sighed and hunched over the table, propping up her head with her hand.
"What's the matter, Lois? No, don't tell me - you're upset because the President of the United States called you 'one of the best journalists in the United States' and you think that he should have said you were *the* best," said Clark jovially. When even that didn't get a rise out of her, he adjusted his posture, leaning forward and slightly towards her. "What is it, Lois?" he asked in a softer tone.
Lois placed both hands on the table, palms down, and looked beseechingly at her friend. "Clark, what's the matter with me? Why is it that when I finally meet a decent man, he won't even notice me? I never thought that I would fall in love again, but I *did* . . . and I love him *so much*, more than I ever thought I could love *anyone*, so much that I know I'll never love anyone else in my whole life . . . and he won't even look at me!"
Clark seemed to stop breathing for a minute and when he finally spoke it was with difficulty. "Who?" he asked, his lips barely moving.
"Superman," sighed Lois. She didn't notice that Clark relaxed fractionally, although an exasperated frown crossed his face. "I've found him, Clark, I've finally found the one man who's perfect, the one man I want to spend the rest of my life with, and we just can't seem to connect."
Clark looked down into his coffee. "Nobody's perfect, Lois," he said quietly. "Not even Superman."
Lois had to laugh. "Oh, Clark, that is so typically *male* to put another man down!"
"I'm not trying to put him down," Clark insisted. "I'm just saying that you don't know anything about him. If you got to know him . . . *really* know him, you might not like him."
"That's ridiculous! Of course I'd like him . . . why wouldn't I??"
"Well . . . maybe you just wouldn't get along. Or . . . there might be things about him . . . things you wouldn't like . . . th-things . . . ." he began to stammer under Lois's sardonic gaze.
"What things??" Lois asked skeptically.
"I don't know! Maybe he squeezes the toothpaste from the wrong end of the tube. Or maybe he leaves his clothes lying around. Or . . . doesn't do his share of the dishes." He faltered briefly when Lois started laughing, then continued, his voice rising defensively. "All I'm saying, Lois, is that he's a *man*. Take away his suit and his powers and he'd be an ordinary guy, just like the rest of us."
"That's ridiculous!" exclaimed Lois hotly, insulted on behalf of her hero. "How can you sit there and compare yourself to Superman, Clark! He's so far above you or any ordinary man . . . !" she choked, gripping her coffee cup tightly.
Clark said nothing, avoiding her eyes while he took another sip of coffee.
After a minute, when Clark still hadn't said anything, Lois glanced at him, and noting the dispirited hunch of his shoulders, she became guiltily aware of the insult she had just offered him. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Clark," she said as if the words were wrenched from her, "I didn't mean to put *you* down . . . it's just that Superman is so special to me." She sighed.
Clark looked up quickly, surprised at the apology. Lois didn't often apologize, didn't like to admit to being wrong.
"I guess I was a fool to think he would even look at me," Lois continued. "Out of all the women on Earth . . . ." Setting down her mug, she rose to her feet and started walking behind Clark as she prepared to leave the snack area.
Clark twisted in his chair to glance up at her. "Lois . . . ." She turned impatiently, not feeling like talking any more, wanting to get back to work, to forget her dismal personal life by burying herself in her job . . . .
"I think Superman notices you more than you know," Clark said. "I think he really does care for you, but he can't . . . there are reasons . . . *I'll bet* there are reasons why . . . ." he floundered, but Lois understood quite well what her friend was doing; he was trying to cheer her up!
She smiled gratefully. It wasn't the first time that Clark had tried to make her feel better about Superman. And it was so nice of him to do so after she had just hurt his feelings by comparing him unfavorably to the super hero - again. Her partner deserved a big hug for being such a good friend! Impulsively she bent and put her arms around him from behind, leaning over his chair and running her fingers down the length of his arms to his hands where they rested on the table.
"Thank you, Clark," she said, giving his hands a little squeeze. As her fingers made contact with his bare skin, she drew back abruptly, surprised at the tingle that coursed through her. She jerked her hands away unceremoniously. "I-I have to go . . . s-see about something," she said and walked away quickly.
As soon as she had returned to her desk Lois seized her telephone and began dialing hurriedly. She had to talk to someone - anyone - so she could get her mind off what had just happened. Clark's hands had felt so warm, so inviting . . . her own hands hadn't seemed to want to let go. They had wanted to cling to his, to squeeze and stroke. Worse, she had felt a mad desire to hug Clark more tightly, to spin him around in his chair and maybe, just maybe, sit in his lap and run her fingers through his hair and press her lips to his face and . . . .
No! This was just too weird! This was "Clark" she was thinking about! Her *partner*, for Elvis' sake! How was it possible that for one wild minute he could make her forget about every other man she had ever met, including Superman?
It just goes to show that you can feel physically attracted to *anyone.* But . . . *Clark*?? Really, Lois!
Not that Clark is such a bad guy, she amended quickly. He's decent and kind, thoughtful and . . . caring. Yes, "caring" is the word that describes him best.
But, let's face it; nice as Clark is, he's no Superman. And Superman is who I want.
* * *
Later that day . . . .
Lois pried open a carton of Chinese food, cradling the telephone receiver between her head and shoulder. "I don't have time to go to the game," she told the person on the other end of the line.
"You *do* have time," insisted Lucy. "Your Women in Journalism meeting was canceled, remember?"
"But . . . ."
"Come on, Lois," said Lucy coaxingly. "Help me out on this one. After that expose you did on Ben King, you can always get VIP treatment at the Wolverines' games . . . and Clark Kent is always good company. It'll be so much fun if you come with us! We'll go to the Brown Brew afterwards, okay?"
"Lucy, I'd like to help you out on this, but Clark and I aren't dating; we're just good friends."
"No, no, that's not what I'm saying. I don't want you and Clark to go out with us as a couple; I want you and Clark as dates for Ed and Kimberley. You'll triple-date with Jerry and me when we go to the Wolverines game on Friday."
"Ed and Kimberley aren't dating?"
"They're not dating *each other*," laughed Lucy. "That's why I want you and Clark as dates for them. It'll be more fun if we all go out together that way. You've met Ed before; you like him, don't you?"
"He's too fixated on sports."
"You always find *some* fault," complained Lucy. "Mitchell's a hypochondriac, Gary's too sarcastic, Blake laughs too much . . . . You're always dreaming of the perfect relationship, the perfect man. When are you going to realize that there is no perfect man?"
"I've met one," said Lois promptly. "There is *one* man out there, Lucy, who *is* perfect: Superman."
"Nobody's perfect," Lucy scoffed.
"He is," said Lois. "I know."
Lucy sighed. "Okay, let's say he's perfect," she said. "Just exactly how many dates have you had with this perfect man?" Silence. "That's what I thought," she said. "Since you're not engaged to him yet, do you think it's okay to see other men? Just in case things don't work out with him . . . ."
"I've been seeing Lex lately -" said Lois, ignoring her sister's sarcasm and snatching the only remaining excuse that came to mind.
"*Lex Luthor*?? Really? Okay, forget it. I don't want to mess up anything with *him*! We can find another girl for Ed . . . but we definitely want Clark for Kim. She saw him on television at the time of the Nightfall Asteroid and she wants to meet him. Do you have his number? I'll call him and ask if he wants to go-"
Lois clutched the receiver more tightly. "I don't think he'd be interested, Lucy," she said quickly.
"Why not? He's not seeing anyone, is he?"
"No, but-"
"I think he'd like Kimberley; most guys do. She's really a fun girl. Sometimes she can be a little wild, but-"
"That settles it; she's *definitely* not Clark's type! He's quiet and shy and a little naive."
"All the better! Kim'll be an education for him. I'll give him a call and-"
"NO! Clark wouldn't like her at all! Find someone else, Lucy!"
There was a moment's silence, then Lucy said curiously, "Is there something going on that I don't know about? Are you sure that you and Clark aren't-?"
"No! No, no, Lucy, it's nothing like that," Lois said. "I just don't think Clark would like her, that's all." She glanced over at her partner's vacant desk, idly wondering why he had vanished this time.
"Do you screen *all* his dates for him?"
"No . . . ."
"Give me his number, Lois. Or . . . no, I guess I can ask him at the Planet tomorrow. Are we still on for lunch tomorrow?"
"Yes . . . wait a minute, Lucy, I've changed my mind."
"You're not going to lunch?"
"I'll go with you on the triple date."
"What about Lex?"
"I'm not dating him *exclusively*, Lucy."
"If you're sure . . . ?"
"I'm sure. And *I'll* ask Clark if he wants to go." Lois hung up the phone, a frown puckering her brow. She didn't really like the idea of the triple date, but she couldn't let poor Clark get roped into going out with this Kim person without going along to rescue him. From the way Lucy had described her, Lois didn't think that Clark would like Kim at all, and she intended to stick close to him and make sure that he didn't find himself put into an embarrassing situation with the "fun" girl.
As soon as he returned to his desk, Lois approached Clark about the date, a task that she found somehow more awkward than she would have believed. Something flickered briefly in Clark's eyes when she broached the subject, but he listened quietly without interrupting, saying casually when she had finished speaking, ". . . so I'm to be Kim's date?" And Lois knew then that he had initially thought that he was going to be *her* date. This disconcerted her, for some reason. She stammered an embarrassed "yes" and stayed by his desk only long enough to secure his affirmation that he'd go along before returning to her own desk to call Lucy with the news.
She avoided looking Clark's way for a short time after that, but there was no constraint in his manner when he loped over to her desk to confer with her a short time later, and Lois soon got over her embarrassment.
**************************************
The date passed smoothly enough, until Lucy dragged her to the ladies' room of the Brown Brew for a private chat. "Lois, did you come along just to chaperone Clark?" she demanded when the two of them were alone.
"What is that supposed to mean??"
"It means that you're paying more attention to Clark and Kim than to your own date. You won't even let Kim talk to Clark; you interrupt her every time she opens her mouth. And then you reach over and touch Clark like you're staking your claim on him-"
"I do not!"
"Lois, you *do*! You keep patting him on the shoulder, straightening his clothes, picking imaginary lint off him-"
"No-"
"-and brushing him like you're dusting him off! The guy looked clean when he met us here tonight, Lois; he doesn't need to have you *polish* him."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" said Lois angrily. "I *don't* keep interrupting Kim. And anyway, I just want to make sure that Clark doesn't get trapped. I don't think he likes Kim . . . and I don't know why you thought he would. *Some* guys like those coarse, blowsy girls, but Clark doesn't. And someone should tell her how to dress! She looks like a size eleven, but that tank top she's wearing can't be bigger than a nine. And her jeans! They look like they were spray-painted on! The woman is a walking poster for bad taste."
"Why don't you let Clark be the judge of that?"
"I know Clark *very well*, and I can tell you that he agrees with me completely! I'm trying to help him out here, Lucy!"
"Clark doesn't need your help, Lois."
"Yes, he does. He's so good-hearted and easy-going that he'd have a hard time saying no to that woman, no matter how much disgust he felt for her."
Lucy gave a shout of laughter. "Lois, that's ridiculous! Clark Kent does not need your protection! If you ask me, you're jealous."
"I am not!"
"You are! There *is* something between you and Clark."
"No, there isn't," Lois denied.
"You're not dating?"
"No."
"*Would* you date him if he asked you?"
"No!"
"That's too bad, Lois; I think he's kind of cute. And he seems to like you a lot. His eyes when he looks at you . . . . Why don't you ask him to be your escort to your Women in Journalism banquet?"
"I don't date men I work with," said Lois impatiently.
"That's just an excuse. Why don't you like Clark, Lois?"
"I *don't* not like Clark!" cried Lois. "I *love* Clark! Ah . . . as a friend. He's kind and intelligent."
"And cute."
Lois shrugged. "I guess."
"And nice."
"*Very* nice," Lois admitted.
"So why don't you want to go out with him?"
"Lucy, you don't understand. I just don't feel that way about Clark. He's nice, he's good, he's a good friend, but . . . ."
"Is it Lex?"
"No!"
"Then what is it?" Lois didn't answer. "It's Superman, isn't it?" Lucy guessed. She went on, taking Lois's silence for acquiescence, "No one can measure up to Superman, can they? Normal men have needs. They eat and sleep; they laugh and-"
"That's ridiculous. You're making it sound like I have a silly, schoolgirl crush on Superman and it's not like that at all! I haven't idealized him, Lucy; he really has qualities that put him above the ordinary."
"Duh! How did you figure that out?"
"Don't be sarcastic, Lucy. I'm not talking about his super powers, although, if you ever saw him in action . . . ! If you had seen him lift that shuttle into space, or stop that tidal wave . . . !" Lois gripped the counter top, her eyes alight. "I admire him, I respect him - he's the most powerful man in the world. He could use his power to dominate and control, but instead he chooses to dedicate his life to helping *us*. It's his integrity and his goodness that I love about him. He's so totally honest. He doesn't lie . . . ."
An extraordinary quality indeed. Lois reflected that she had caught even the straight-arrow Clark Kent in a lie.
Lucy was silent; her sister's panegyric had confirmed her every suspicion that Lois's regard for the super hero was based on an unrealistic, idealized vision of what she wanted in a man. Finally she sighed and said, "I don't want to burst your bubble Lois, but what makes you think this paragon would . . . even be . . . ."
". . . interested in me?"
"I'm not trying to insult you," said Lucy quickly. "It's not that it's *impossible* for Superman to be interested in you - after all, you're intelligent, pretty, and famous in your own right, and goodness knows if you can get the interest of the third-richest man in the world, then Superman isn't out of your reach, either - but what makes you think that he *is* interested in you? And how does his dedication to helping us poor earth-bound humans translate into him being a good date?"
"There's a connection between us; I felt it the first time he held me in his arms. Sometimes I think the same thing that you just said . . . that he's not interested, but Clark has told me several times that he *is*. I thought at first that Clark was just trying to make me feel better, but Superman came to me once and said that I'm special to him . . . ." Lois's voice trailed off and a frown puckered her brow. "And I don't just think Superman would be a good *date*!" she continued vigorously. "He's the most caring person I've ever known, the kind of person to be in a relationship with, the kind of man to build a life with."
Lois paused for breath while she wondered how she could make Lucy understand what Superman meant to her. He was the embodiment of her every dream. And it wasn't just because of the aura that hung about him because of his super powers - the hint of a fast ticket to adventure. Superman was so much more than the promise of exotic and exciting experiences. He was someone you could count on, someone who would always be there for you. *He* would never trick you or betray you or let you down. And if he loved you, his love would be forever.
Lucy studied her sister's glowing face without comment. "I guess we should get back to the others," she said finally, recognizing the futility of trying to talk Lois into choosing a more earth-bound companion. She quietly led the way back to their dates. Noting again how Clark's face lit up at sight of her sister, Lucy couldn't help feeling a pang for the poor man. He was a really nice guy, but even a really nice guy doesn't stand a chance against Superman.
For the remainder of the evening the starry-eyed Lois was gracious and pleasant, if a little absent-minded. She hardly seemed to notice how Kim kept hanging onto Clark's arm and didn't react at all when Kim appropriated him to escort her home at the end of the outing.
**************************************
Lois had a swift reversal of feeling, however, when Lucy called her on Wednesday to request a repeat of their night out. "The Wolverines are playing tonight and we all want to go again. Ed's asking for you; he really likes you," Lucy informed her, without much hope that Lois would be impressed by the news.
She wasn't. "I don't have time to go out tonight," Lois scowled.
"Come on, Lois, they're only going to be in town for a few more days," Lucy coaxed. "At least, Ed is . . . Kim might be sticking around for awhile, depending on how things go with Clark tonight."
"What do you mean?" asked Lois. She looked over at her partner, whose head was bent over his desk in concentration.
"Kim's thinking about moving to Metropolis permanently. I've never seen her so worked up about a guy; I think she's serious."
"After one *date*??" snorted Lois. "Lucy, to women like Kim, 'serious' means she asks the guy his name *before* she invites him in for a drink."
"That's not fair, Lois; Kim's a nice person. I think you *are* jealous. Can you transfer me to Clark? If you're not going with us, I'll ask him if he wants to go-"
"*I'll* ask him," snapped Lois. "And I *am* going with you."
"To chaperone Clark again?" Lucy laughed. Lois, why don't you just admit that you really like the guy and don't want him to get involved with anyone else?"
"I'll talk to you later," pronounced Lois crisply, hanging up the phone.
She was relieved when Clark told her that he wouldn't be able to go to the game because he had other plans. That revelation unleashed a frenzy of curiosity in her, however (Clark had other plans?? What?? With whom?), and since he wasn't very forthcoming about what his other plans were, she spent a few idle minutes wondering . . . until Perry distracted her by saying that he wanted her to cover a press conference that Superman was scheduled to give this evening.
Lucy left Metropolis the next day, along with Jerry, Ed, and (to Lois's secret relief) Kim.
Lois wasn't too happy about her parting conversation with Lucy, though. "You're like Joan Wilder in the movie, 'Romancing the Stone,'" Lucy told her.
Lois frowned. In the film, Joan Wilder was a novelist who had created the perfect hero for herself: the protagonist in the books she wrote. Joan's infatuation with her imaginary hero, and her conviction that she would never meet a man who could measure up to him, had long prevented her from seeking or forming relationships with real men. "I'm not in the least like Joan Wilder!" she snapped. "Superman's not an *imaginary* hero; he's real. And he *is* perfect; the perfect man!"
"There's no such thing," Lucy rejoined. "Not even Superman. Lois, if he *is* a 'real' man, then he isn't perfect. And if he's *not* a real man, how can you have a relationship with him?"
And Lois had no answer for her sister.
****************************************
Lois pressed her nose against the window of her apartment, watching the rain pelt the street below, and wondered if the skies were ever going to clear again. This weather is like my life, she thought with uncharacteristic glumness. One dreary day follows another . . . .
She shook herself, angry at her inability to shake her black mood. She had been down in the dumps before, but her mood during the last few weeks was carrying the blues to a new level. Now, on the eve of her wedding to the third-richest man in the world . . . now, when she should be ecstatically happy, should be burying herself in plans for one of the most glorious days of her life, she was sunk in gloom.
Lois wasn't given much to introspection, but she took the time now to allow herself a rare moment of analysis, wondering how she had allowed herself to be put into this situation . . . on the verge of marrying a man about whom she was having ever-increasing doubts.
Her relationship with Lex had started out slowly. Once she had recovered from her chagrin at failing to nail down the Exclusive, she had begun to enjoy his company, but she hadn't thought in terms of a *serious* relationship with him. In fact, she had found that she sometimes came away from their dates feeling empty and unfulfilled. Lex was a master at subtle putdowns, and when he indulged in witticisms at others' expense, Lois often laughed and felt encouraged to join in, but she confessed to sometimes feeling let down and even ashamed afterwards.
Clark had said once that Lex didn't bring out the best in her, adding with a disapproving tone which Lois found particularly irritating, that you couldn't expect a man who did the kinds of things Lex did to be *kind* - a remark that had wrung from Lois the retort that you couldn't expect a simple country boy to understand the business strategies that a man of Lex's stature was obliged to undertake.
She was ashamed of that remark later, as she was of the way she had treated Clark when terrorists held them captive at the Planet. She had derided Clark and his suggestions at the time - why, she didn't know, since Clark was not only her best friend, but someone she had come to respect. Sometimes she wondered if perhaps Clark was right; Lex *did* bring out the worst in her.
It was that incident at the Planet, however, that marked a turning point in her relationship with Lex. After he was shot, Lex displayed a touching vulnerability and a flattering preference for her company, and his ever-increasing attentions had culminated in an offer of marriage.
Their relationship progressed at a rapid pace throughout the events that followed his marriage proposal - the demise of the Daily Planet, Clark's surprising proposal and her swift rejection of it, and Superman's subsequent painful rebuff when she revealed her feelings for him.
Now, weeks later, when for the first time she had time for quiet reflection, she found herself mourning the loss of everything she had once held most dear: her career at the Daily Planet, Superman, her friends: Jimmy . . . and Perry. Even Perry, her crusty old editor.
*And Clark*, she reminded herself. *Especially* Clark.
How was that possible??
She would have expected to miss Superman, would have expected to be devastated by the irrevocable closing of a door that she had long wanted to believe open. But who could ever have guessed that she would miss Clark so much more? That it was his defection, rather than Superman's, that would constrict her heart so painfully? That she would wake in the mornings with a crushing sense of loss at the knowledge that she would not be seeing *Clark* that day, that she wouldn't be sharing all the funny and frustrating parts of her workday with *Clark*, that she wouldn't be looking up from her desk to see *Clark* watching her with that warm expression that his eyes always seemed to hold whenever she caught him gazing unawares?
But such was the case. Strange as it seemed, it was the loss of Clark that hit her the hardest. Especially when she realized that the loss was forever. There would be no turning back; once she married Lex, she wouldn't be calling Clark anymore to talk to him about some inconsequential event from work. Clark had made it painfully clear that her marriage to Lex would end their friendship as surely as the destruction of the Daily Planet had ended their partnership.
The stubborn fool! Why couldn't he realize that they could still be friends??
Clark, you can't do this to me - I need you. If you really loved me, then you would want me to be happy and you would come to LNN and be my partner where we could see each other every day. Why can't you see things my way?
She sighed, turning her head so that her cheek was pressed against the cool glass.
Was it fair of her to expect Clark to relegate their relationship to friendship only after he had confessed his love for her? She drew a shaky breath, wondering if Linda King's accusation that she was being selfish regarding Clark was true.
She had run into Linda at the site of the shootout on Terrace Avenue this morning. When Lois had demanded to know what *she* was doing in town, Linda had replied smugly that she was trying to persuade *someone* to go back to California with her and become her partner. When Lois failed to rise to the bait and ask who it was, Linda added, "Don't you want to know who?"
"I can't begin to guess what kind of Cetacean would consort with you!" Lois snapped.
Linda raised an eyebrow. "Cetacean, Lois? Is that the way to talk about your former partner?"
Former partner??
"Clark? It's not true - it can't be! Clark wouldn't - he *couldn't*!"
"Lois, I know you like to think that Clark is going to be your personal cicisbeo, but the guy really is entitled to a life of his own . . . ."
"Yes, and a 'life of his own' doesn't include partnering himself with bottom-feeders like you," returned Lois with spirit.
"Oh, come on, Lois, get real! I know that Clark has been like your puppy for almost a year now, following you around with the kind of devotion that I wish my *dog* had, but you can't be so selfish as to expect him to keep doing that *now* . . . now that you're marrying Luthor . . . ."
Furious at Linda's insulting portrayal of Clark, Lois turned on her heel and almost *ran* away from Linda, giving in to her emotions only after she was alone in her apartment again.
Clark . . . and Linda! NO!! He couldn't! Never, never, never in her wildest nightmares had she considered such a possibility as a consequence of her rejection of Clark! Clark could not go off with that woman!
Abandoning her position beside the window, she began pacing back and forth, mentally reviewing all the reasons why Clark could not possibly be attracted to Linda King. She took some comfort in the belief that Linda would not have spoken of him so insultingly if she had had the least hope of persuading him to relocate to California. But no sooner had she convinced herself that Clark had no more interest in Linda than in . . . in Cat, for example, when a whole host of other possibilities came crowding into her consciousness: Clark with Toni, Clark with Kim, Clark with . . . anyone. She sat down and buried her face in her hands as for the first time she realized what would inevitably happen now that she had rejected Clark. He would find someone else. He would fall in love, begin a relationship . . . get married, even.
She moaned.
No; Clark could *not* get married! He couldn't . . . because . . . because . . . .
And here Lois got stuck trying to decide why marriage was such an impossibility for her friend. Surely, since *she* didn't want him, she couldn't be so small as to begrudge him his own chance at happiness! No, that wasn't it, Lois decided. She would willingly give her friend away at the altar if she really believed that he would be walking into the arms of someone who could make him happy.
In fact - Lois rose excitedly to her feet - maybe that was the solution: find a woman for her friend so he wouldn't feel so badly about *her* rejection of him, and then they could go back to being best friends and partners again!
So . . . who could she find for Clark?
Not Cat. Cat was interested in Clark only as one of the many commuters into her bedroom, and a solid guy like Clark would want a relationship that would last past breakfast.
Not Kim, either, and for much the same reasons.
Linda King. No, NEVER! Linda was too pushy and overbearing; a sweet guy like Clark would get trampled by the likes of Linda King. Besides, Linda would take Clark to California, defeating the whole purpose of finding someone for him.
So . . . who??
For the next half-hour Lois busied herself with considering, and rejecting, the names of a half-dozen more women of her acquaintance. Such was her desperation that she even considered Toni Taylor. She didn't know why, but the thought of Clark dating a woman who was confined to the Metropolis Women's Prison and therefore wouldn't be able to see much of him was somehow vastly appealing. She eventually rejected Toni, though, for the same reason she had all the others. She had come to the glum realization that not a single woman she knew would "do" for Clark.
They're just not good enough for him. No one is.
**I don't know anyone who's good enough for Clark Kent**!!
Faced with this astonishing fact, Lois resumed her pacing.
Okay, Lois, there's something wrong here. Why is Clark too good for virtually every woman you know?
What is it about him, anyway? He isn't heroic and exotic like Superman, or dashing and powerful like Lex, yet somehow he manages to command respect. He's intelligent and kind, decent and good. Honest like no other man I've ever met (except Superman). And, again with the exception of Superman, he's the most caring person I have ever known. He's not perfect, but a woman - *any* woman - should consider herself lucky to have a man like him.
And after I marry Lex this man is going to walk out of my life forever.
Lois bowed her head as she realized just how much she was losing.
Clark is one of the best men I know. How can I ever give him up?
After standing disconsolately in the middle of the room for a few minutes, her head slowly rose as an idea came to her. A martial light came into her eye as that famous Lane resolve came into play. She came to a decision that she should have made long ago.
I *won't* allow it. He can't do this to me. He can't let my marriage to Lex ruin our friendship. I have to make him understand that! I'm going over to his place right now to tell him.
Lois changed into jeans and sneakers with alacrity, her heart singing at the thought of seeing her former partner again. It was raining hard enough to soak her before she had reached her jeep, but even that couldn't dampen her mood.
A short time later, a slightly soggy Lois pounded on the door to his apartment. "Clark??" Her voice was quavering, to her own surprise. "Are you in there? It's me, Lois! Open the door; we have to tal-"
The door swung open. "Lois! What's the matter? Are you okay?" Clark asked anxiously. Lois found herself gazing directly into the slightly worried brown eyes of her former partner. She was surprised at the tremor of pleasure that ran through her at sight of him.
"Of course I'm okay; why wouldn't I be?" she said, snapping at him to cover her confusion. "Can I come in?"
Clark hesitated. "I was just about to go out, but-" He stepped back to allow her entry. "Your voice sounded . . ." he hesitated, not sure what word to use to describe it. ". . . upset," he finished finally.
"Upset? No, I'm not upset. I just . . . I had to talk to you." She paused to look her partner over, her eyes wandering up and down his body. He was dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt and white sneakers. His hair was slightly mussed, as if he had been running his hands through it, and just now his brown eyes were surveying her rather doubtfully from behind his glasses.
"Talk to me?" he said.
"Yes," said Lois absently. She was fighting the strangest urge to throw her arms around her former partner and hug him tightly. "You know what 'talk' means, don't you?" she added.
And then she would reach up a hand to smooth that mussed-up hair, and then . . . . What would it be like to kiss Clark Kent? she wondered. To make out with him?
She gasped, putting a shocked and slightly shaking hand to her mouth.
I can't believe I just had that thought! Right before my wedding to another man.
"Are you still planning to marry Luthor?" Clark's voice cut into her scandalous ruminations.
"Um . . . yes." She jerked her gaze back to his face, which no longer wore the anxious expression from when he had first opened the door, but the sulky look that had annoyed her the last few times she had seen him.
"Then I think you'd better go," he said, holding the door open for her to exit. His voice was harsh.
Lois stood her ground. "We need to talk," she said firmly.
"About what?"
"Us."
"There is no us, Lois," said Clark. He hesitated, as if half-hoping to hear something more.
Lois folded her arms across her chest and waited.
Seeing that she wasn't going to take the hint and leave, Clark sighed and turned to shut the door, unaware that Lois's eyes were greedily following the movement of every muscle in his back as revealed by his taut shirt.
Why had she never before noticed how . . . hunky . . . Clark is? Lois wondered. His body is almost as good as Superman's. It's not just his good looks that make him so attractive, though; it's his good humor and his good - well, just his *goodness*.
"What do you want, Lois?" Clark's quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. He wasn't looking at her, but was staring (sulkily, she thought) at the floor.
Lois took a deep breath. "I want you to come and work with me at LNN," she said.
Clark's face twisted. "We've already discussed this, Lois," he said harshly. "I'm not going to work for Lex Luthor."
"You have to." Lois uncrossed her arms and took a step forward, gazing earnestly up at her friend. "We have to be together, Clark, can't you see that? We're so good together. Perry says we're the best reporting team he's ever seen." A fleeting expression of pain crossed Clark's face and he half-turned from her. "Clark . . . ." Lois took another step forward and placed a determined hand on his arm. He shrugged it off, however, folding his arms defiantly across his chest. He raised his head and finally met her gaze, his eyes stony. Stung by the coldness in his face, Lois added as if the words were wrenched from her, "Don't look at me like that, Clark; I can't bear it. Y-you're the best friend I've ever had. I can't lose you." Her voice was beginning to shake. "I just . . . can't-" she choked, unable to go on.
"Lo-is," said Clark uncomfortably. He unfolded his arms and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His expression had softened, but he looked miserable. "I can't work for Lex Luthor. Why can't you understand that?"
"So this is good-bye?" asked Lois, tears shining in her eyes. "We can't be friends anymore? We'll go our separate ways and n-never s-see each other again?"
Clark bowed his head.
"Clark . . . !" her voice was pleading.
Clark shuddered. Moving quickly, he turned his back and hurried from her, hunching his shoulders as if to ward off the pain that had pierced his heart at the note of unhappiness in her voice. Keeping his back to her, he stepped into the kitchen. He walked over to one of the counters and placed his hands on it, leaning on his arms.
Biting her lip, Lois gave him one last look and turned to go. She hadn't taken more than two steps, however, when suddenly she whirled and almost ran into the kitchen after him. The constriction in her chest was so tight that she felt as if the breath were being squeezed from her body. "I can't do it, Clark," she said in a low voice. "I can't walk away from here knowing that our friendship is over."
Lois stood and watched him. She could see his chest rising and falling rapidly; her words had obviously affected him deeply. She felt a small jolt of triumph; he didn't want their friendship to be over, either. That would make it easier. Clark had never been able to say no to her. She was going to be able to persuade him to come to work with her.
Then she noticed the firm set of his jaw and she felt a cold spark of fear. For the first time it occurred to her that she really might be on the verge of losing him forever.
"It's . . . over . . . Lois," said Clark, speaking as if every word pained him. "I . . . can't. I just . . . can't."
"Clark . . . ." she said, and her voice was hoarse.
He shook his head, not speaking.
"Clark . . . please . . . ." she breathed.
He turned to face her, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. He straightened his shoulders. "I think you'd better go, Lois," he said. He began striding towards the door, obviously intending to open it and usher her out.
This was it, then. Their friendship really was over. Never again would she glance up from her desk to catch him gazing at her with that warm expression on his face; never again would she have the reassurance of his solid form looming in the background when she interviewed a source. No more stakeouts, no more hastily-snatched lunches, no more late-night conversations about everything and nothing. There would be no Clark when she woke up in the morning, and no Clark when she went to sleep at night. He was going to let her walk out of his life, never to return.
"NO!" she burst out. "You-I can't! I-" She choked. "I love you."
Clark froze. For a minute there was no sound in the room. Finally he said with painful slowness, "What did you say . . . ?"
"I love you," Lois repeated. And it was true. As soon as she said the words, she felt a sense of release. She had never been more sure of anything in her life: she wanted Clark. And she didn't know how she could have been so blind not to realize it before. She didn't want a larger-than-life paragon of all the virtues. She didn't want the powerful and charismatic Lex Luthor; she didn't love him and she never had. She didn't even want Superman. (Not much, anyway.) She wasn't looking for a hero anymore, she just wanted the warm, kind man who had been her friend from the day she had met him. The man whose presence had become gradually and increasingly necessary to her happiness.
She began walking towards Clark, speaking rapidly. "I never realized how much I love you until I lost you. I have missed you every day that we've been apart. Every morning when I wake up my first thoughts are about you, and you're the last one on my mind before I go to sleep at night. I miss having you at my side when I'm working and I miss you on my days off. I can't bear the thought of you walking out of my life, Clark."
Clark still hadn't moved or spoken. Lois moved around in front of him, looking searchingly up into his face. His head was bowed, but his body was tense as if he were straining to hear every word. His face had changed, too; his expression was softer. And yet he was still frowning, as if he couldn't trust that her words meant what he hoped they meant. He raised his head slowly to look at her with eyes that didn't yet dare to hope. Seeing the question in his gaze, Lois nodded.
"I-don't know what to say," said Clark huskily. "Luthor-"
"Say that you meant what you said to me in the park that day," said Lois crisply. Her voice was cool and businesslike. And yet there were tears in her eyes and a tremor in the hand that she half extended towards him. "Tell me that your offer of marriage is still open."
Clark swallowed. "Yes, Lois," he said when he had recovered his powers of speech. "Always."
Lois waited. Seeing that he wasn't making a move towards her, she closed the distance between them and laid a hand on his arm. Clark broke from the paralysis that had overtaken him at Lois's declaration and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close for a warm hug.
Lois responded stiffly at first, for in spite of her recent fantasies about Clark and her avowal of love, she wasn't sure about the physical stuff yet. But as she relaxed into his embrace, inhaling his scent and enjoying the feel of his taut body against hers, a delicious languor began to overtake her.
Clark bent his head and she felt that his lips were moving across her head, lightly kissing it. A tingle of shock ran through her as his feather-light touch stirred her hair, and her knees buckled. Clark fastened his arms around her more securely, supporting her as she crowded her body closer to his, seeking more contact.
What would it be like to kiss Clark Kent?
She had wondered that earlier this evening, and now she suddenly desperately wanted to know. She lifted her head to look deeply into his eyes, parting her lips in mute invitation.
Clark drew in his breath sharply, his grip tightening. He searched her face, wanting, needing to be sure this was what *she* wanted. Seeing the yes in her eyes, he slowly bent his head and touched his lips to hers.
As their first real kiss, it wasn't much. Just a light brush of mouth against mouth. And yet it excited Lois as no other man's caress ever had. A moan escaped her, and she leaned forward to kiss him again.
What would it be like to kiss Clark Kent?
Explosive.
Volcanic.
Whoever would have thought that quiet, polite Clark Kent could be so passionate? And where did he learn to kiss like that?
Those questions were Lois's last coherent thoughts for a very long time.
It was Clark who drew back from their embrace. "Lois, before we get any more involved, there's something we have to-"
"Lex!" Lois gasped. "Yes, you're right, Clark; I have to break off my engagement." She smiled tenderly at him. Trust the strait-laced Clark to remember the impediment to going any further with their passion. "I'll go and break up with him right now. Be back in an hour."
"No, that wasn't what I meant. I have to tell you-"
Lois gave him a quick, hard kiss. "I'll be back soon," she said huskily. She rushed out the door, Clark following her doggedly.
"Lois, there really is something we have to discuss-"
"I know, Clark; you can tell me when I get back, okay?"
"It's important," he insisted.
"Sure . . . ." she said absently. She slipped into the driver's seat, her mind already on the job in front of her. Her task in the next hour wasn't going to be pleasant: breaking up with her fiance. But - she waved at the man standing next to her car with a frustrated expression on his face - look what she would be coming back to afterwards. Smiling, she put the car in gear and drove away.
She wondered what Clark wanted to talk about that he thought was so important. Probably wanted to tell her all about how he kissed Lulu Belle or some other farm girl at the Smallville corn festival one year. She smiled fondly. Clark was the most wonderful guy in the world - she knew that now - but sometimes he suffered from an overactive conscience. Whatever he was planning to tell her probably seemed really big to him, but it couldn't have much importance in the big scheme of things. After all, what kind of secret could a straight-up guy like Clark have?
The End
by Shadowfax
Romance
Rated PG
Usual disclaimers apply; I don't own the characters and no copyright infringement is intended. Thanks to the original creators of Superman and to Deborah Joy Levine, et. al.
******************
Looking for a Hero
******************
Lois stared moodily into her coffee cup, too lost in gloomy contemplation to speak when her partner and friend, Clark Kent, seated himself at the table next to her. "Ready for a refill?" he asked, swishing his own full mug of coffee before leaning over to peer into Lois's cup.
"No . . . ." she said, her voice indicating that there was no point in it, what was the use, they'd all be dead in a hundred years anyway . . . .
"Something the matter?" asked her ever-cheerful friend.
"Did you see Superman?" asked Lois, ignoring his kind inquiry.
"When? Since the clone . . .? No - I mean yes, for a minute. Why?"
Not answering, Lois sighed and hunched over the table, propping up her head with her hand.
"What's the matter, Lois? No, don't tell me - you're upset because the President of the United States called you 'one of the best journalists in the United States' and you think that he should have said you were *the* best," said Clark jovially. When even that didn't get a rise out of her, he adjusted his posture, leaning forward and slightly towards her. "What is it, Lois?" he asked in a softer tone.
Lois placed both hands on the table, palms down, and looked beseechingly at her friend. "Clark, what's the matter with me? Why is it that when I finally meet a decent man, he won't even notice me? I never thought that I would fall in love again, but I *did* . . . and I love him *so much*, more than I ever thought I could love *anyone*, so much that I know I'll never love anyone else in my whole life . . . and he won't even look at me!"
Clark seemed to stop breathing for a minute and when he finally spoke it was with difficulty. "Who?" he asked, his lips barely moving.
"Superman," sighed Lois. She didn't notice that Clark relaxed fractionally, although an exasperated frown crossed his face. "I've found him, Clark, I've finally found the one man who's perfect, the one man I want to spend the rest of my life with, and we just can't seem to connect."
Clark looked down into his coffee. "Nobody's perfect, Lois," he said quietly. "Not even Superman."
Lois had to laugh. "Oh, Clark, that is so typically *male* to put another man down!"
"I'm not trying to put him down," Clark insisted. "I'm just saying that you don't know anything about him. If you got to know him . . . *really* know him, you might not like him."
"That's ridiculous! Of course I'd like him . . . why wouldn't I??"
"Well . . . maybe you just wouldn't get along. Or . . . there might be things about him . . . things you wouldn't like . . . th-things . . . ." he began to stammer under Lois's sardonic gaze.
"What things??" Lois asked skeptically.
"I don't know! Maybe he squeezes the toothpaste from the wrong end of the tube. Or maybe he leaves his clothes lying around. Or . . . doesn't do his share of the dishes." He faltered briefly when Lois started laughing, then continued, his voice rising defensively. "All I'm saying, Lois, is that he's a *man*. Take away his suit and his powers and he'd be an ordinary guy, just like the rest of us."
"That's ridiculous!" exclaimed Lois hotly, insulted on behalf of her hero. "How can you sit there and compare yourself to Superman, Clark! He's so far above you or any ordinary man . . . !" she choked, gripping her coffee cup tightly.
Clark said nothing, avoiding her eyes while he took another sip of coffee.
After a minute, when Clark still hadn't said anything, Lois glanced at him, and noting the dispirited hunch of his shoulders, she became guiltily aware of the insult she had just offered him. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Clark," she said as if the words were wrenched from her, "I didn't mean to put *you* down . . . it's just that Superman is so special to me." She sighed.
Clark looked up quickly, surprised at the apology. Lois didn't often apologize, didn't like to admit to being wrong.
"I guess I was a fool to think he would even look at me," Lois continued. "Out of all the women on Earth . . . ." Setting down her mug, she rose to her feet and started walking behind Clark as she prepared to leave the snack area.
Clark twisted in his chair to glance up at her. "Lois . . . ." She turned impatiently, not feeling like talking any more, wanting to get back to work, to forget her dismal personal life by burying herself in her job . . . .
"I think Superman notices you more than you know," Clark said. "I think he really does care for you, but he can't . . . there are reasons . . . *I'll bet* there are reasons why . . . ." he floundered, but Lois understood quite well what her friend was doing; he was trying to cheer her up!
She smiled gratefully. It wasn't the first time that Clark had tried to make her feel better about Superman. And it was so nice of him to do so after she had just hurt his feelings by comparing him unfavorably to the super hero - again. Her partner deserved a big hug for being such a good friend! Impulsively she bent and put her arms around him from behind, leaning over his chair and running her fingers down the length of his arms to his hands where they rested on the table.
"Thank you, Clark," she said, giving his hands a little squeeze. As her fingers made contact with his bare skin, she drew back abruptly, surprised at the tingle that coursed through her. She jerked her hands away unceremoniously. "I-I have to go . . . s-see about something," she said and walked away quickly.
As soon as she had returned to her desk Lois seized her telephone and began dialing hurriedly. She had to talk to someone - anyone - so she could get her mind off what had just happened. Clark's hands had felt so warm, so inviting . . . her own hands hadn't seemed to want to let go. They had wanted to cling to his, to squeeze and stroke. Worse, she had felt a mad desire to hug Clark more tightly, to spin him around in his chair and maybe, just maybe, sit in his lap and run her fingers through his hair and press her lips to his face and . . . .
No! This was just too weird! This was "Clark" she was thinking about! Her *partner*, for Elvis' sake! How was it possible that for one wild minute he could make her forget about every other man she had ever met, including Superman?
It just goes to show that you can feel physically attracted to *anyone.* But . . . *Clark*?? Really, Lois!
Not that Clark is such a bad guy, she amended quickly. He's decent and kind, thoughtful and . . . caring. Yes, "caring" is the word that describes him best.
But, let's face it; nice as Clark is, he's no Superman. And Superman is who I want.
* * *
Later that day . . . .
Lois pried open a carton of Chinese food, cradling the telephone receiver between her head and shoulder. "I don't have time to go to the game," she told the person on the other end of the line.
"You *do* have time," insisted Lucy. "Your Women in Journalism meeting was canceled, remember?"
"But . . . ."
"Come on, Lois," said Lucy coaxingly. "Help me out on this one. After that expose you did on Ben King, you can always get VIP treatment at the Wolverines' games . . . and Clark Kent is always good company. It'll be so much fun if you come with us! We'll go to the Brown Brew afterwards, okay?"
"Lucy, I'd like to help you out on this, but Clark and I aren't dating; we're just good friends."
"No, no, that's not what I'm saying. I don't want you and Clark to go out with us as a couple; I want you and Clark as dates for Ed and Kimberley. You'll triple-date with Jerry and me when we go to the Wolverines game on Friday."
"Ed and Kimberley aren't dating?"
"They're not dating *each other*," laughed Lucy. "That's why I want you and Clark as dates for them. It'll be more fun if we all go out together that way. You've met Ed before; you like him, don't you?"
"He's too fixated on sports."
"You always find *some* fault," complained Lucy. "Mitchell's a hypochondriac, Gary's too sarcastic, Blake laughs too much . . . . You're always dreaming of the perfect relationship, the perfect man. When are you going to realize that there is no perfect man?"
"I've met one," said Lois promptly. "There is *one* man out there, Lucy, who *is* perfect: Superman."
"Nobody's perfect," Lucy scoffed.
"He is," said Lois. "I know."
Lucy sighed. "Okay, let's say he's perfect," she said. "Just exactly how many dates have you had with this perfect man?" Silence. "That's what I thought," she said. "Since you're not engaged to him yet, do you think it's okay to see other men? Just in case things don't work out with him . . . ."
"I've been seeing Lex lately -" said Lois, ignoring her sister's sarcasm and snatching the only remaining excuse that came to mind.
"*Lex Luthor*?? Really? Okay, forget it. I don't want to mess up anything with *him*! We can find another girl for Ed . . . but we definitely want Clark for Kim. She saw him on television at the time of the Nightfall Asteroid and she wants to meet him. Do you have his number? I'll call him and ask if he wants to go-"
Lois clutched the receiver more tightly. "I don't think he'd be interested, Lucy," she said quickly.
"Why not? He's not seeing anyone, is he?"
"No, but-"
"I think he'd like Kimberley; most guys do. She's really a fun girl. Sometimes she can be a little wild, but-"
"That settles it; she's *definitely* not Clark's type! He's quiet and shy and a little naive."
"All the better! Kim'll be an education for him. I'll give him a call and-"
"NO! Clark wouldn't like her at all! Find someone else, Lucy!"
There was a moment's silence, then Lucy said curiously, "Is there something going on that I don't know about? Are you sure that you and Clark aren't-?"
"No! No, no, Lucy, it's nothing like that," Lois said. "I just don't think Clark would like her, that's all." She glanced over at her partner's vacant desk, idly wondering why he had vanished this time.
"Do you screen *all* his dates for him?"
"No . . . ."
"Give me his number, Lois. Or . . . no, I guess I can ask him at the Planet tomorrow. Are we still on for lunch tomorrow?"
"Yes . . . wait a minute, Lucy, I've changed my mind."
"You're not going to lunch?"
"I'll go with you on the triple date."
"What about Lex?"
"I'm not dating him *exclusively*, Lucy."
"If you're sure . . . ?"
"I'm sure. And *I'll* ask Clark if he wants to go." Lois hung up the phone, a frown puckering her brow. She didn't really like the idea of the triple date, but she couldn't let poor Clark get roped into going out with this Kim person without going along to rescue him. From the way Lucy had described her, Lois didn't think that Clark would like Kim at all, and she intended to stick close to him and make sure that he didn't find himself put into an embarrassing situation with the "fun" girl.
As soon as he returned to his desk, Lois approached Clark about the date, a task that she found somehow more awkward than she would have believed. Something flickered briefly in Clark's eyes when she broached the subject, but he listened quietly without interrupting, saying casually when she had finished speaking, ". . . so I'm to be Kim's date?" And Lois knew then that he had initially thought that he was going to be *her* date. This disconcerted her, for some reason. She stammered an embarrassed "yes" and stayed by his desk only long enough to secure his affirmation that he'd go along before returning to her own desk to call Lucy with the news.
She avoided looking Clark's way for a short time after that, but there was no constraint in his manner when he loped over to her desk to confer with her a short time later, and Lois soon got over her embarrassment.
**************************************
The date passed smoothly enough, until Lucy dragged her to the ladies' room of the Brown Brew for a private chat. "Lois, did you come along just to chaperone Clark?" she demanded when the two of them were alone.
"What is that supposed to mean??"
"It means that you're paying more attention to Clark and Kim than to your own date. You won't even let Kim talk to Clark; you interrupt her every time she opens her mouth. And then you reach over and touch Clark like you're staking your claim on him-"
"I do not!"
"Lois, you *do*! You keep patting him on the shoulder, straightening his clothes, picking imaginary lint off him-"
"No-"
"-and brushing him like you're dusting him off! The guy looked clean when he met us here tonight, Lois; he doesn't need to have you *polish* him."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" said Lois angrily. "I *don't* keep interrupting Kim. And anyway, I just want to make sure that Clark doesn't get trapped. I don't think he likes Kim . . . and I don't know why you thought he would. *Some* guys like those coarse, blowsy girls, but Clark doesn't. And someone should tell her how to dress! She looks like a size eleven, but that tank top she's wearing can't be bigger than a nine. And her jeans! They look like they were spray-painted on! The woman is a walking poster for bad taste."
"Why don't you let Clark be the judge of that?"
"I know Clark *very well*, and I can tell you that he agrees with me completely! I'm trying to help him out here, Lucy!"
"Clark doesn't need your help, Lois."
"Yes, he does. He's so good-hearted and easy-going that he'd have a hard time saying no to that woman, no matter how much disgust he felt for her."
Lucy gave a shout of laughter. "Lois, that's ridiculous! Clark Kent does not need your protection! If you ask me, you're jealous."
"I am not!"
"You are! There *is* something between you and Clark."
"No, there isn't," Lois denied.
"You're not dating?"
"No."
"*Would* you date him if he asked you?"
"No!"
"That's too bad, Lois; I think he's kind of cute. And he seems to like you a lot. His eyes when he looks at you . . . . Why don't you ask him to be your escort to your Women in Journalism banquet?"
"I don't date men I work with," said Lois impatiently.
"That's just an excuse. Why don't you like Clark, Lois?"
"I *don't* not like Clark!" cried Lois. "I *love* Clark! Ah . . . as a friend. He's kind and intelligent."
"And cute."
Lois shrugged. "I guess."
"And nice."
"*Very* nice," Lois admitted.
"So why don't you want to go out with him?"
"Lucy, you don't understand. I just don't feel that way about Clark. He's nice, he's good, he's a good friend, but . . . ."
"Is it Lex?"
"No!"
"Then what is it?" Lois didn't answer. "It's Superman, isn't it?" Lucy guessed. She went on, taking Lois's silence for acquiescence, "No one can measure up to Superman, can they? Normal men have needs. They eat and sleep; they laugh and-"
"That's ridiculous. You're making it sound like I have a silly, schoolgirl crush on Superman and it's not like that at all! I haven't idealized him, Lucy; he really has qualities that put him above the ordinary."
"Duh! How did you figure that out?"
"Don't be sarcastic, Lucy. I'm not talking about his super powers, although, if you ever saw him in action . . . ! If you had seen him lift that shuttle into space, or stop that tidal wave . . . !" Lois gripped the counter top, her eyes alight. "I admire him, I respect him - he's the most powerful man in the world. He could use his power to dominate and control, but instead he chooses to dedicate his life to helping *us*. It's his integrity and his goodness that I love about him. He's so totally honest. He doesn't lie . . . ."
An extraordinary quality indeed. Lois reflected that she had caught even the straight-arrow Clark Kent in a lie.
Lucy was silent; her sister's panegyric had confirmed her every suspicion that Lois's regard for the super hero was based on an unrealistic, idealized vision of what she wanted in a man. Finally she sighed and said, "I don't want to burst your bubble Lois, but what makes you think this paragon would . . . even be . . . ."
". . . interested in me?"
"I'm not trying to insult you," said Lucy quickly. "It's not that it's *impossible* for Superman to be interested in you - after all, you're intelligent, pretty, and famous in your own right, and goodness knows if you can get the interest of the third-richest man in the world, then Superman isn't out of your reach, either - but what makes you think that he *is* interested in you? And how does his dedication to helping us poor earth-bound humans translate into him being a good date?"
"There's a connection between us; I felt it the first time he held me in his arms. Sometimes I think the same thing that you just said . . . that he's not interested, but Clark has told me several times that he *is*. I thought at first that Clark was just trying to make me feel better, but Superman came to me once and said that I'm special to him . . . ." Lois's voice trailed off and a frown puckered her brow. "And I don't just think Superman would be a good *date*!" she continued vigorously. "He's the most caring person I've ever known, the kind of person to be in a relationship with, the kind of man to build a life with."
Lois paused for breath while she wondered how she could make Lucy understand what Superman meant to her. He was the embodiment of her every dream. And it wasn't just because of the aura that hung about him because of his super powers - the hint of a fast ticket to adventure. Superman was so much more than the promise of exotic and exciting experiences. He was someone you could count on, someone who would always be there for you. *He* would never trick you or betray you or let you down. And if he loved you, his love would be forever.
Lucy studied her sister's glowing face without comment. "I guess we should get back to the others," she said finally, recognizing the futility of trying to talk Lois into choosing a more earth-bound companion. She quietly led the way back to their dates. Noting again how Clark's face lit up at sight of her sister, Lucy couldn't help feeling a pang for the poor man. He was a really nice guy, but even a really nice guy doesn't stand a chance against Superman.
For the remainder of the evening the starry-eyed Lois was gracious and pleasant, if a little absent-minded. She hardly seemed to notice how Kim kept hanging onto Clark's arm and didn't react at all when Kim appropriated him to escort her home at the end of the outing.
**************************************
Lois had a swift reversal of feeling, however, when Lucy called her on Wednesday to request a repeat of their night out. "The Wolverines are playing tonight and we all want to go again. Ed's asking for you; he really likes you," Lucy informed her, without much hope that Lois would be impressed by the news.
She wasn't. "I don't have time to go out tonight," Lois scowled.
"Come on, Lois, they're only going to be in town for a few more days," Lucy coaxed. "At least, Ed is . . . Kim might be sticking around for awhile, depending on how things go with Clark tonight."
"What do you mean?" asked Lois. She looked over at her partner, whose head was bent over his desk in concentration.
"Kim's thinking about moving to Metropolis permanently. I've never seen her so worked up about a guy; I think she's serious."
"After one *date*??" snorted Lois. "Lucy, to women like Kim, 'serious' means she asks the guy his name *before* she invites him in for a drink."
"That's not fair, Lois; Kim's a nice person. I think you *are* jealous. Can you transfer me to Clark? If you're not going with us, I'll ask him if he wants to go-"
"*I'll* ask him," snapped Lois. "And I *am* going with you."
"To chaperone Clark again?" Lucy laughed. Lois, why don't you just admit that you really like the guy and don't want him to get involved with anyone else?"
"I'll talk to you later," pronounced Lois crisply, hanging up the phone.
She was relieved when Clark told her that he wouldn't be able to go to the game because he had other plans. That revelation unleashed a frenzy of curiosity in her, however (Clark had other plans?? What?? With whom?), and since he wasn't very forthcoming about what his other plans were, she spent a few idle minutes wondering . . . until Perry distracted her by saying that he wanted her to cover a press conference that Superman was scheduled to give this evening.
Lucy left Metropolis the next day, along with Jerry, Ed, and (to Lois's secret relief) Kim.
Lois wasn't too happy about her parting conversation with Lucy, though. "You're like Joan Wilder in the movie, 'Romancing the Stone,'" Lucy told her.
Lois frowned. In the film, Joan Wilder was a novelist who had created the perfect hero for herself: the protagonist in the books she wrote. Joan's infatuation with her imaginary hero, and her conviction that she would never meet a man who could measure up to him, had long prevented her from seeking or forming relationships with real men. "I'm not in the least like Joan Wilder!" she snapped. "Superman's not an *imaginary* hero; he's real. And he *is* perfect; the perfect man!"
"There's no such thing," Lucy rejoined. "Not even Superman. Lois, if he *is* a 'real' man, then he isn't perfect. And if he's *not* a real man, how can you have a relationship with him?"
And Lois had no answer for her sister.
****************************************
Lois pressed her nose against the window of her apartment, watching the rain pelt the street below, and wondered if the skies were ever going to clear again. This weather is like my life, she thought with uncharacteristic glumness. One dreary day follows another . . . .
She shook herself, angry at her inability to shake her black mood. She had been down in the dumps before, but her mood during the last few weeks was carrying the blues to a new level. Now, on the eve of her wedding to the third-richest man in the world . . . now, when she should be ecstatically happy, should be burying herself in plans for one of the most glorious days of her life, she was sunk in gloom.
Lois wasn't given much to introspection, but she took the time now to allow herself a rare moment of analysis, wondering how she had allowed herself to be put into this situation . . . on the verge of marrying a man about whom she was having ever-increasing doubts.
Her relationship with Lex had started out slowly. Once she had recovered from her chagrin at failing to nail down the Exclusive, she had begun to enjoy his company, but she hadn't thought in terms of a *serious* relationship with him. In fact, she had found that she sometimes came away from their dates feeling empty and unfulfilled. Lex was a master at subtle putdowns, and when he indulged in witticisms at others' expense, Lois often laughed and felt encouraged to join in, but she confessed to sometimes feeling let down and even ashamed afterwards.
Clark had said once that Lex didn't bring out the best in her, adding with a disapproving tone which Lois found particularly irritating, that you couldn't expect a man who did the kinds of things Lex did to be *kind* - a remark that had wrung from Lois the retort that you couldn't expect a simple country boy to understand the business strategies that a man of Lex's stature was obliged to undertake.
She was ashamed of that remark later, as she was of the way she had treated Clark when terrorists held them captive at the Planet. She had derided Clark and his suggestions at the time - why, she didn't know, since Clark was not only her best friend, but someone she had come to respect. Sometimes she wondered if perhaps Clark was right; Lex *did* bring out the worst in her.
It was that incident at the Planet, however, that marked a turning point in her relationship with Lex. After he was shot, Lex displayed a touching vulnerability and a flattering preference for her company, and his ever-increasing attentions had culminated in an offer of marriage.
Their relationship progressed at a rapid pace throughout the events that followed his marriage proposal - the demise of the Daily Planet, Clark's surprising proposal and her swift rejection of it, and Superman's subsequent painful rebuff when she revealed her feelings for him.
Now, weeks later, when for the first time she had time for quiet reflection, she found herself mourning the loss of everything she had once held most dear: her career at the Daily Planet, Superman, her friends: Jimmy . . . and Perry. Even Perry, her crusty old editor.
*And Clark*, she reminded herself. *Especially* Clark.
How was that possible??
She would have expected to miss Superman, would have expected to be devastated by the irrevocable closing of a door that she had long wanted to believe open. But who could ever have guessed that she would miss Clark so much more? That it was his defection, rather than Superman's, that would constrict her heart so painfully? That she would wake in the mornings with a crushing sense of loss at the knowledge that she would not be seeing *Clark* that day, that she wouldn't be sharing all the funny and frustrating parts of her workday with *Clark*, that she wouldn't be looking up from her desk to see *Clark* watching her with that warm expression that his eyes always seemed to hold whenever she caught him gazing unawares?
But such was the case. Strange as it seemed, it was the loss of Clark that hit her the hardest. Especially when she realized that the loss was forever. There would be no turning back; once she married Lex, she wouldn't be calling Clark anymore to talk to him about some inconsequential event from work. Clark had made it painfully clear that her marriage to Lex would end their friendship as surely as the destruction of the Daily Planet had ended their partnership.
The stubborn fool! Why couldn't he realize that they could still be friends??
Clark, you can't do this to me - I need you. If you really loved me, then you would want me to be happy and you would come to LNN and be my partner where we could see each other every day. Why can't you see things my way?
She sighed, turning her head so that her cheek was pressed against the cool glass.
Was it fair of her to expect Clark to relegate their relationship to friendship only after he had confessed his love for her? She drew a shaky breath, wondering if Linda King's accusation that she was being selfish regarding Clark was true.
She had run into Linda at the site of the shootout on Terrace Avenue this morning. When Lois had demanded to know what *she* was doing in town, Linda had replied smugly that she was trying to persuade *someone* to go back to California with her and become her partner. When Lois failed to rise to the bait and ask who it was, Linda added, "Don't you want to know who?"
"I can't begin to guess what kind of Cetacean would consort with you!" Lois snapped.
Linda raised an eyebrow. "Cetacean, Lois? Is that the way to talk about your former partner?"
Former partner??
"Clark? It's not true - it can't be! Clark wouldn't - he *couldn't*!"
"Lois, I know you like to think that Clark is going to be your personal cicisbeo, but the guy really is entitled to a life of his own . . . ."
"Yes, and a 'life of his own' doesn't include partnering himself with bottom-feeders like you," returned Lois with spirit.
"Oh, come on, Lois, get real! I know that Clark has been like your puppy for almost a year now, following you around with the kind of devotion that I wish my *dog* had, but you can't be so selfish as to expect him to keep doing that *now* . . . now that you're marrying Luthor . . . ."
Furious at Linda's insulting portrayal of Clark, Lois turned on her heel and almost *ran* away from Linda, giving in to her emotions only after she was alone in her apartment again.
Clark . . . and Linda! NO!! He couldn't! Never, never, never in her wildest nightmares had she considered such a possibility as a consequence of her rejection of Clark! Clark could not go off with that woman!
Abandoning her position beside the window, she began pacing back and forth, mentally reviewing all the reasons why Clark could not possibly be attracted to Linda King. She took some comfort in the belief that Linda would not have spoken of him so insultingly if she had had the least hope of persuading him to relocate to California. But no sooner had she convinced herself that Clark had no more interest in Linda than in . . . in Cat, for example, when a whole host of other possibilities came crowding into her consciousness: Clark with Toni, Clark with Kim, Clark with . . . anyone. She sat down and buried her face in her hands as for the first time she realized what would inevitably happen now that she had rejected Clark. He would find someone else. He would fall in love, begin a relationship . . . get married, even.
She moaned.
No; Clark could *not* get married! He couldn't . . . because . . . because . . . .
And here Lois got stuck trying to decide why marriage was such an impossibility for her friend. Surely, since *she* didn't want him, she couldn't be so small as to begrudge him his own chance at happiness! No, that wasn't it, Lois decided. She would willingly give her friend away at the altar if she really believed that he would be walking into the arms of someone who could make him happy.
In fact - Lois rose excitedly to her feet - maybe that was the solution: find a woman for her friend so he wouldn't feel so badly about *her* rejection of him, and then they could go back to being best friends and partners again!
So . . . who could she find for Clark?
Not Cat. Cat was interested in Clark only as one of the many commuters into her bedroom, and a solid guy like Clark would want a relationship that would last past breakfast.
Not Kim, either, and for much the same reasons.
Linda King. No, NEVER! Linda was too pushy and overbearing; a sweet guy like Clark would get trampled by the likes of Linda King. Besides, Linda would take Clark to California, defeating the whole purpose of finding someone for him.
So . . . who??
For the next half-hour Lois busied herself with considering, and rejecting, the names of a half-dozen more women of her acquaintance. Such was her desperation that she even considered Toni Taylor. She didn't know why, but the thought of Clark dating a woman who was confined to the Metropolis Women's Prison and therefore wouldn't be able to see much of him was somehow vastly appealing. She eventually rejected Toni, though, for the same reason she had all the others. She had come to the glum realization that not a single woman she knew would "do" for Clark.
They're just not good enough for him. No one is.
**I don't know anyone who's good enough for Clark Kent**!!
Faced with this astonishing fact, Lois resumed her pacing.
Okay, Lois, there's something wrong here. Why is Clark too good for virtually every woman you know?
What is it about him, anyway? He isn't heroic and exotic like Superman, or dashing and powerful like Lex, yet somehow he manages to command respect. He's intelligent and kind, decent and good. Honest like no other man I've ever met (except Superman). And, again with the exception of Superman, he's the most caring person I have ever known. He's not perfect, but a woman - *any* woman - should consider herself lucky to have a man like him.
And after I marry Lex this man is going to walk out of my life forever.
Lois bowed her head as she realized just how much she was losing.
Clark is one of the best men I know. How can I ever give him up?
After standing disconsolately in the middle of the room for a few minutes, her head slowly rose as an idea came to her. A martial light came into her eye as that famous Lane resolve came into play. She came to a decision that she should have made long ago.
I *won't* allow it. He can't do this to me. He can't let my marriage to Lex ruin our friendship. I have to make him understand that! I'm going over to his place right now to tell him.
Lois changed into jeans and sneakers with alacrity, her heart singing at the thought of seeing her former partner again. It was raining hard enough to soak her before she had reached her jeep, but even that couldn't dampen her mood.
A short time later, a slightly soggy Lois pounded on the door to his apartment. "Clark??" Her voice was quavering, to her own surprise. "Are you in there? It's me, Lois! Open the door; we have to tal-"
The door swung open. "Lois! What's the matter? Are you okay?" Clark asked anxiously. Lois found herself gazing directly into the slightly worried brown eyes of her former partner. She was surprised at the tremor of pleasure that ran through her at sight of him.
"Of course I'm okay; why wouldn't I be?" she said, snapping at him to cover her confusion. "Can I come in?"
Clark hesitated. "I was just about to go out, but-" He stepped back to allow her entry. "Your voice sounded . . ." he hesitated, not sure what word to use to describe it. ". . . upset," he finished finally.
"Upset? No, I'm not upset. I just . . . I had to talk to you." She paused to look her partner over, her eyes wandering up and down his body. He was dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt and white sneakers. His hair was slightly mussed, as if he had been running his hands through it, and just now his brown eyes were surveying her rather doubtfully from behind his glasses.
"Talk to me?" he said.
"Yes," said Lois absently. She was fighting the strangest urge to throw her arms around her former partner and hug him tightly. "You know what 'talk' means, don't you?" she added.
And then she would reach up a hand to smooth that mussed-up hair, and then . . . . What would it be like to kiss Clark Kent? she wondered. To make out with him?
She gasped, putting a shocked and slightly shaking hand to her mouth.
I can't believe I just had that thought! Right before my wedding to another man.
"Are you still planning to marry Luthor?" Clark's voice cut into her scandalous ruminations.
"Um . . . yes." She jerked her gaze back to his face, which no longer wore the anxious expression from when he had first opened the door, but the sulky look that had annoyed her the last few times she had seen him.
"Then I think you'd better go," he said, holding the door open for her to exit. His voice was harsh.
Lois stood her ground. "We need to talk," she said firmly.
"About what?"
"Us."
"There is no us, Lois," said Clark. He hesitated, as if half-hoping to hear something more.
Lois folded her arms across her chest and waited.
Seeing that she wasn't going to take the hint and leave, Clark sighed and turned to shut the door, unaware that Lois's eyes were greedily following the movement of every muscle in his back as revealed by his taut shirt.
Why had she never before noticed how . . . hunky . . . Clark is? Lois wondered. His body is almost as good as Superman's. It's not just his good looks that make him so attractive, though; it's his good humor and his good - well, just his *goodness*.
"What do you want, Lois?" Clark's quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. He wasn't looking at her, but was staring (sulkily, she thought) at the floor.
Lois took a deep breath. "I want you to come and work with me at LNN," she said.
Clark's face twisted. "We've already discussed this, Lois," he said harshly. "I'm not going to work for Lex Luthor."
"You have to." Lois uncrossed her arms and took a step forward, gazing earnestly up at her friend. "We have to be together, Clark, can't you see that? We're so good together. Perry says we're the best reporting team he's ever seen." A fleeting expression of pain crossed Clark's face and he half-turned from her. "Clark . . . ." Lois took another step forward and placed a determined hand on his arm. He shrugged it off, however, folding his arms defiantly across his chest. He raised his head and finally met her gaze, his eyes stony. Stung by the coldness in his face, Lois added as if the words were wrenched from her, "Don't look at me like that, Clark; I can't bear it. Y-you're the best friend I've ever had. I can't lose you." Her voice was beginning to shake. "I just . . . can't-" she choked, unable to go on.
"Lo-is," said Clark uncomfortably. He unfolded his arms and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His expression had softened, but he looked miserable. "I can't work for Lex Luthor. Why can't you understand that?"
"So this is good-bye?" asked Lois, tears shining in her eyes. "We can't be friends anymore? We'll go our separate ways and n-never s-see each other again?"
Clark bowed his head.
"Clark . . . !" her voice was pleading.
Clark shuddered. Moving quickly, he turned his back and hurried from her, hunching his shoulders as if to ward off the pain that had pierced his heart at the note of unhappiness in her voice. Keeping his back to her, he stepped into the kitchen. He walked over to one of the counters and placed his hands on it, leaning on his arms.
Biting her lip, Lois gave him one last look and turned to go. She hadn't taken more than two steps, however, when suddenly she whirled and almost ran into the kitchen after him. The constriction in her chest was so tight that she felt as if the breath were being squeezed from her body. "I can't do it, Clark," she said in a low voice. "I can't walk away from here knowing that our friendship is over."
Lois stood and watched him. She could see his chest rising and falling rapidly; her words had obviously affected him deeply. She felt a small jolt of triumph; he didn't want their friendship to be over, either. That would make it easier. Clark had never been able to say no to her. She was going to be able to persuade him to come to work with her.
Then she noticed the firm set of his jaw and she felt a cold spark of fear. For the first time it occurred to her that she really might be on the verge of losing him forever.
"It's . . . over . . . Lois," said Clark, speaking as if every word pained him. "I . . . can't. I just . . . can't."
"Clark . . . ." she said, and her voice was hoarse.
He shook his head, not speaking.
"Clark . . . please . . . ." she breathed.
He turned to face her, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. He straightened his shoulders. "I think you'd better go, Lois," he said. He began striding towards the door, obviously intending to open it and usher her out.
This was it, then. Their friendship really was over. Never again would she glance up from her desk to catch him gazing at her with that warm expression on his face; never again would she have the reassurance of his solid form looming in the background when she interviewed a source. No more stakeouts, no more hastily-snatched lunches, no more late-night conversations about everything and nothing. There would be no Clark when she woke up in the morning, and no Clark when she went to sleep at night. He was going to let her walk out of his life, never to return.
"NO!" she burst out. "You-I can't! I-" She choked. "I love you."
Clark froze. For a minute there was no sound in the room. Finally he said with painful slowness, "What did you say . . . ?"
"I love you," Lois repeated. And it was true. As soon as she said the words, she felt a sense of release. She had never been more sure of anything in her life: she wanted Clark. And she didn't know how she could have been so blind not to realize it before. She didn't want a larger-than-life paragon of all the virtues. She didn't want the powerful and charismatic Lex Luthor; she didn't love him and she never had. She didn't even want Superman. (Not much, anyway.) She wasn't looking for a hero anymore, she just wanted the warm, kind man who had been her friend from the day she had met him. The man whose presence had become gradually and increasingly necessary to her happiness.
She began walking towards Clark, speaking rapidly. "I never realized how much I love you until I lost you. I have missed you every day that we've been apart. Every morning when I wake up my first thoughts are about you, and you're the last one on my mind before I go to sleep at night. I miss having you at my side when I'm working and I miss you on my days off. I can't bear the thought of you walking out of my life, Clark."
Clark still hadn't moved or spoken. Lois moved around in front of him, looking searchingly up into his face. His head was bowed, but his body was tense as if he were straining to hear every word. His face had changed, too; his expression was softer. And yet he was still frowning, as if he couldn't trust that her words meant what he hoped they meant. He raised his head slowly to look at her with eyes that didn't yet dare to hope. Seeing the question in his gaze, Lois nodded.
"I-don't know what to say," said Clark huskily. "Luthor-"
"Say that you meant what you said to me in the park that day," said Lois crisply. Her voice was cool and businesslike. And yet there were tears in her eyes and a tremor in the hand that she half extended towards him. "Tell me that your offer of marriage is still open."
Clark swallowed. "Yes, Lois," he said when he had recovered his powers of speech. "Always."
Lois waited. Seeing that he wasn't making a move towards her, she closed the distance between them and laid a hand on his arm. Clark broke from the paralysis that had overtaken him at Lois's declaration and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close for a warm hug.
Lois responded stiffly at first, for in spite of her recent fantasies about Clark and her avowal of love, she wasn't sure about the physical stuff yet. But as she relaxed into his embrace, inhaling his scent and enjoying the feel of his taut body against hers, a delicious languor began to overtake her.
Clark bent his head and she felt that his lips were moving across her head, lightly kissing it. A tingle of shock ran through her as his feather-light touch stirred her hair, and her knees buckled. Clark fastened his arms around her more securely, supporting her as she crowded her body closer to his, seeking more contact.
What would it be like to kiss Clark Kent?
She had wondered that earlier this evening, and now she suddenly desperately wanted to know. She lifted her head to look deeply into his eyes, parting her lips in mute invitation.
Clark drew in his breath sharply, his grip tightening. He searched her face, wanting, needing to be sure this was what *she* wanted. Seeing the yes in her eyes, he slowly bent his head and touched his lips to hers.
As their first real kiss, it wasn't much. Just a light brush of mouth against mouth. And yet it excited Lois as no other man's caress ever had. A moan escaped her, and she leaned forward to kiss him again.
What would it be like to kiss Clark Kent?
Explosive.
Volcanic.
Whoever would have thought that quiet, polite Clark Kent could be so passionate? And where did he learn to kiss like that?
Those questions were Lois's last coherent thoughts for a very long time.
It was Clark who drew back from their embrace. "Lois, before we get any more involved, there's something we have to-"
"Lex!" Lois gasped. "Yes, you're right, Clark; I have to break off my engagement." She smiled tenderly at him. Trust the strait-laced Clark to remember the impediment to going any further with their passion. "I'll go and break up with him right now. Be back in an hour."
"No, that wasn't what I meant. I have to tell you-"
Lois gave him a quick, hard kiss. "I'll be back soon," she said huskily. She rushed out the door, Clark following her doggedly.
"Lois, there really is something we have to discuss-"
"I know, Clark; you can tell me when I get back, okay?"
"It's important," he insisted.
"Sure . . . ." she said absently. She slipped into the driver's seat, her mind already on the job in front of her. Her task in the next hour wasn't going to be pleasant: breaking up with her fiance. But - she waved at the man standing next to her car with a frustrated expression on his face - look what she would be coming back to afterwards. Smiling, she put the car in gear and drove away.
She wondered what Clark wanted to talk about that he thought was so important. Probably wanted to tell her all about how he kissed Lulu Belle or some other farm girl at the Smallville corn festival one year. She smiled fondly. Clark was the most wonderful guy in the world - she knew that now - but sometimes he suffered from an overactive conscience. Whatever he was planning to tell her probably seemed really big to him, but it couldn't have much importance in the big scheme of things. After all, what kind of secret could a straight-up guy like Clark have?
The End