Author's Note: Okay, chapter four! I know a lot of you picked up on the fact that I missed super-hearing in the last one, and that Clark didn't mention his Kryptonite aversion. You guys are very sharp, but don't worry; I didn't forget. I was just holding some stuff off for other chapters. Sorry it took me longer to update than I wanted. I was taking time to go and review other people's stories. You guys have been so good to me that I figure it was only fair. :) I hope you enjoy!
"It's been you all along, hasn't it?" Lois accused.
Clark sat down on the edge of the bed, amazed that she could still have the energy to question him at this time of night. "Yes."
She flopped backwards against the pillows, an incredulous expression on her face. Clark sighed.
"You're mad at me now, aren't you?" he asked.
"No," she said. "I'm mad at me. After all this time, how did I not notice?"
"Give me some credit, Lois," Clark said. "I'm very good at hiding my secret."
"Yeah, but I'm supposed to be an investigative reporter. How did I fail to notice that my best friend was running around Metropolis at night saving people?"
"Well it's not like anyone has actually seen me," he pointed out. "The best anyone has gotten is a blurry picture."
"Oh. That's right." Lois looked pensive again. "You saved my life that night, didn't you? And… and again a few days later, when I was attacked by that psychopath in my apartment."
"Someone has to keep you out of trouble."
Lois shook her head at his tease and asked, "How long have you been secretly saving me?"
Clark shifted. "How long have we known each other?"
"Four years."
"Then four years."
"Huh." Lois was quiet for a minute, staring at him. "Thank you. I just – thanks, Clark."
He smiled.
Lois smiled back for a minute. Then in typical Lois fashion, she said, "Okay, enough of the sappy stuff for tonight. I'm so tired that even these plaid pillows are starting to look good."
Clark rose from his seat, stretching. "Yeah. I should probably go let Shelby in. He's been clawing at the door for the last twenty minutes."
"I don't hear anything," Lois argued.
Clark tapped the side of his head. "Oh yeah. I forgot. Super–hearing. I can hear things from miles around. Things that most people can't. The TV on the next farm over, a crow in the middle of the field, your heart beat."
Lois tilted her head. "You can hear that?"
"Yeah," he said, walking towards the door. "I can even hear all those comments you mutter under your breath when you think I can't hear you. Oh and by the way, I agree; I think I looked good in that grey shirt I wore Tuesday too."
He walked out, but not before he saw her mortified face.
"You weren't supposed to hear that!" she called.
Clark just laughed.
"Ugh." Lois rolled over in bed, wincing as she rolled off her stomach.
Sunlight flooded in to the room, burning at the back of her eyelids. Both her ribs and her head throbbed, but not as much as she would have expected. The events of the night rattled around her head, making it pound a tiny bit more.
She rolled again, this time right out of bed. She hit the floor with a thump. "Ugh!"
She stumbled into a standing position, fixing the tangled white dress. She glanced in the mirror. The dress was ripped in some places, and covered in mud. Her hair looked like she had decided to adopt style tips from the eighties.
Basically, she looked like hell.
She fumbled with Clark's dresser drawer for a minute before pulling out a familiar shirt and pulling it over her head.
Making her way downstairs, Lois dodged Shelby running up the stairs. She sneezed loudly.
A head poked around the corner. Clark grinned at her disheveled appearance.
"Good afternoon, Lois," he said, setting down Shelby's food dish. "I was wondering when you were going to grace us with your presence."
"Just please, please, tell me you have coffee here," she groaned.
Clark shook his head. "No, but…"
Then he was gone. Lois blinked a few times to be sure he was gone.
"Huh," she said. "That's even more annoying now that I see him do that."
She walked into the kitchen, rummaging around in the cupboards until she found a box of cereal. A sudden breeze lifted the back of her hair, and she turned to see Clark standing a few feet away, a cup of coffee in his hands.
"I would have been quicker," he explained, "but I prefer to actually pay."
Lois was speechless for a minute. Then she smiled and snatched the cup of coffee away from him.
"Thanks, Smallville," she said cheerfully. "I guess having super powers comes in handy."
He rolled his eyes. "I can do more than run errands with my abilities."
"Like be a flash of color that saves people?" she asked, sipping her coffee with raised eyebrows.
"I never heard you complain when it was you I was saving."
"It's not like you stick around afterwards to actually hear me complain," she pointed out. "That's where we got the whole 'blur' part. Maybe if you slowed down we could call you something else."
Clark didn't answer. Lois put down her coffee, mistaking his silence for him being uncomfortable. "You can relax, Clark. I mean, it's not like I plan on exposing you on the front page of the Daily Planet."
Clark looked up, a strange expression on his face. "Actually Lois… I've been thinking. That's exactly what I want you to do."
She looked dumbfounded. "You want me to what?"
He focused on her intently. "You know how you said you wanted an interview with the Red and Blue Blur? You got it."
"I – Clark I know I said that that was one of my new life missions and everything, but you don't have to give an interview just because I know about you," Lois said uncertainly.
"No, Lois that's not it." Clark paused before saying, "Look, I've been thinking about this for a long time. I think it's time for me to make my first public appearance. And I want you to write it."
"But – why? Clark, you can write just as well as I can. Well," she backtracked, "maybe not just as well. But come on, Smallville, a story like this would definitely upgrade you from copy boy."
Clark was shaking his head before she even finished. "No. I want you to do it."
"But this is a huge opportunity –"
"Exactly." Clark leaned against the counter. "Lois the story is yours. Please. Will you do this?"
"I – yeah." She nodded. "Of course."
She went back to sipping her coffee, her expression far away. Clark suppressed a grin; he could practically see the wheels turning in her head.
"Okay," she said suddenly, setting the cup down on the counter. "I'll do it, but there a few things we need to work out first."
"Like…?" he said slowly.
"Well, figure out your identity, for starters. Think about it Smallville. If you're going to going to be running around saving people in Metropolis using your abilities, people are going to notice. They've already noticed. You're going to need to pull a Green Arrow and adopt an alter-ego."
"An alter-ego?"
"Yeah," Lois said, as though it were obvious. "Something we can refer to you as. We can't keep calling you the Good Samaritan or the Red and Blue Blur."
"Why not?" Clark asked. He wasn't stupid; he knew he needed something to go by, but he hadn't really thought about what they would call him. He assumed the press would take care of that.
Lois rolled her eyes. "Because 'the Red and Blue Blur' makes you sound like a crappy painting, and 'the Good Samaritan' makes it sound like you're rescuing kittens from trees. We need something that will catch people's attention."
Clark was weary. "Like what?"
"I don't know yet…" She bit her lip. "But don't worry, Smallville. It'll come to me."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Clark muttered.
"I heard that."
Clark snickered walked towards the doorway, grabbing his coat.
"Hey, whoa." Lois looked up from her cereal. "Where are you going?"
"There are a few things that I have to take care of," Clark explained. "I'll be back soon."
"Damn it!" Lois cursed as she paced the living room floor. The blinking cursor on the computer screen was a cruel reminder that her article was only half finished. She was stuck.
How was she supposed to write an article like this anyway? This could very well be one of the biggest exposés of her career. Not to mention the fact that Clark was counting on her. If she screwed this up…
"Lois Lane."
"Jesus!" Lois dropped the bowl of ice cream she'd been angrily shoveling into her mouth. She whipped around.
John Jones stood in the doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets.
"Oh," Lois exhaled. "Jeez. What are all you aliens like ninjas or something? A little noise for warning would be nice."
"I didn't mean to startle you," John apologized. He walked a little farther into the room. "I see you're doing better."
"Well it takes more than a few bumps and bruises to bring me down," she replied, unconsciously trailing a hand along her ribs.
"If I remember correctly, it was more than just some scrapes," John said. "You had massive internal bleeding, Miss Lane."
"Oh." Her tone was surprised. After being healed so quickly, she hadn't given much thought to how bad she had been hurt. "Then I guess I should say thank you. You saved my life. Although I wouldn't feel so special about that if I were you; it turns out a lot of people have been doing that lately."
"I take it that you spoke to Kal-El," he said knowingly.
"That's an understatement." She sat back down on the couch. "My head is still spinning."
John crossed over to the computer. He scanned through the article in silence for a minute.
"This is good," he said, turning back towards her. "Really good."
Lois shook her head dejectedly. "I can't finish."
"Why not?" he asked, surveying her with interest.
"I –" she stopped herself. Having 'sharing time' with someone she barely knew hardly sounded like a good idea. "You know, I'm not much for the whole sitting around the campfire and talking about how I feel thing."
John didn't speak, but for reasons unfathomable to her, Lois suddenly found herself talking a mile a minute.
"It's just that – I don't know how to be objective when I write this. I'm trying to paint this picture of what Clark can be – what he is, really. But I…" She stopped, sucking in a deep breath. "I need to do this right. After everything, especially what I know now, he deserves for me to give this my best shot. But in this state of mind, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do that."
"And what state of mind would that be?"
"The one where I'm freaking out because my reality is a lot different than I thought it was," she answered.
"Is it really that different?" John asked. "You find out some secrets about your friend, and that changes everything?"
Lois tilted her head. "Hey! When was the last time you found out someone close to you was keeping one of the biggest secrets ever from you?" she said defensively. She sighed again. "I don't even think that that's it, though. I think the thing that I'm having the most trouble with, is the fact that the one person who makes me feel most like myself suddenly makes me feel so inadequate"
"Inadequate?"
"Look, I've known Clark four years. I thought that I had him pretty much pegged. I thought I knew him. Don't get me wrong, I didn't think all he was destined to do was live out his life milking cows on a farm. But I didn't expect this. Clark is supposed to save the world. And I'm supposed to help him – which, by the way, you guys never really explained. I just... I don't want to … screw it up, somehow."
"So this is about inadequacy? You don't think that you're good enough to help him? Miss Lane, your destiny is just as important as Kal-El's. Without yours, his would fail to exist. This isn't a question of whose life holds more importance." John sat down across from her. "Now you said you were having trouble with objectivity. I find that usually comes when you have conflicts with your own opinions. What is it that you're having a hard time getting past? Is it the fact that Kal-El is an alien? You have a hard time accepting him now because of that?"
"Wha–? No!" Lois looked insulted. "Of course not! Alien or not, Clark is…Clark! It won't matter what they end up calling him because of my article. He'll always be Smallville to me."
John leaned back, seemingly satisfied. "I guess you have your opinion sorted out after all."
He sat there, completely silent. Lois stared back, feeling bewildered.
"No offence, Yoda, but I feel like I missed your point here," she confessed.
John smiled. "You're good at what you do. And you are a good friend to Kal-El. He trusts you. If that wasn't obvious before, it is now. Forget about writing the article for a minute. What you are about to do here is alert the world to his presence. How they perceive him is important. A lot of what they perceive is going to come from what you write. And of course, as much as we try to stay objective, what you write will always reflect your opinion. Miss Lane, as long as you know how you feel about him, the rest of that article will come easy."
Lois stared at the computer screen in silence, processing his little speech. He was right. That annoyed her a little bit, but he was right. Even through her muddled confusion, she could see that. If it came down to how she felt, then it was simple: She loved Clark. None of what had happened in the past twenty-four hours changed that. So he was from another planet. So he had strange powers that set him apart from everyone else. So what? She still trusted him, believed in him, cared about him. Maybe even more so now that she knew the whole story. What did the world need to know about Clark? That he was a hero. If anyone could make a difference – spread some hope – it was him.
Turning back, she smiled at John, grateful for his help with her little epiphany. "Thank you. Really." After a moment, she changed tracks, brightening up to ask, "So did you come over here because you knew I needed help, or was there another motive?"
"I came here to check up on the two of you. I also needed to speak to Kal-El," John answered.
"He went out," she informed him. "He didn't say where he was going, though."
He nodded, rising from his seat. "I'll speak to him later, then."
He threw her one last respectful nod before turning to leave.
"Hey," she called, regaining his attention. She gestured to the computer. "Any suggestions for names? He's gonna need one."
John paused. Then he smiled. "Just try not to make it anything too embarrassing."
"Like I told him," she said, turning back to the article. "No promises."
"Oliver," Clark called as he walked into his friend's penthouse apartment. "Oliver, are you here?"
"Clark?" Oliver said in surprise, walking out of his concealed Green Arrow closet.
He stopped short to look at his friend. Clark's eyes were unusually bright, and his face was flushed pink. If Oliver didn't know any better, he would almost say that it looked like Clark was high.
"This is a surprise, Clark," he said, tossing a handful of arrows on the couch. "I haven't seen you since the other night when you ran off to go put out the fire otherwise known as Lois."
"That's actually what I want to talk about," Clark said, leaning back against the couch.
Ollie grinned, turning his back to Clark for a minute under the pretence of grabbing a water bottle. So that was the source of Clark's disheveled appearance and odd behavior: Lois Lane. Not exactly surprising. He had had a feeling this would happen sooner or later ever since –
"Lois knows my secret," Clark said suddenly.
Oliver choked on his water. He whirled around, coughing and spluttering. "What? How mad was she that you went and told her that?"
Clark shook his head. "It's a long story. But the point is, she knows. And as we speak, she's writing an article in for the Daily Planet."
Oliver whistled. He knew Lois had been angry and hurt when she'd found out about his secret identity, but he had a hard time picturing Lois to be that vindictive. "Why would she do that?"
"I asked her to do it."
"Wow," Oliver said eventually. "I'm impressed, Clark. I guess two years of bugging you to step up finally worked. Not to mention the fact that you've already got the press on your side. I have a feeling Lois will be a lot kinder to you than she was to Green Arrow."
When Clark didn't say anything, he continued. "Seriously Clark, I'm impressed. You've got an excellent angle here, too. You'll be one of the first to know when something goes down, and Lois can cover for you when you go off to help."
"Not for long," Clark said.
"What are you talking about?" Oliver asked slowly.
"Lois is going to have her memory erased in a few days," Clark said, evading Oliver's stare. "And she doesn't know, so please don't mention it. I think it's better if she doesn't have to face it until it happens."
"Wait, what? Why?"
"Oliver, you know why. The same reason I had Chloe's removed before her wedding. People's lives are better off when they don't have to deal with the burden of knowing about me. Everyone who's known about me has had to suffer in some way, and I don't want to do that to Lois. She –"
"Don't you think you've used that excuse one to many times," Oliver said wearily, interrupting Clark's tirade. He pointedly ignored Clark's insulted expression and said, "Clark, man, don't you think Lois deserves to know? Especially because of what she's doing for you now? And not to mention how she –"
Oliver stopped short. He'd been on the verge of saying 'how she feels about you', but had thought better of it. No matter how in depth the conversation between Lois and Clark had gone, he was fairly certain that the last thing Lois would have done was mention the feelings that she had recently discovered she had for the guy in front of him. Personally, Oliver found the 'recent' part amusing. He'd seen the attraction between them since Day 1, even when he had been the one dating Lois. The fact that Clark still didn't see that she was head over heels for him was a bit mind-boggling. At least, he hoped Clark saw it. If not, there wasn't much hope for him; Oliver already knew that Clark had feelings for Lois.
"It's the best thing –" Clark started. He shook his head. "Oliver, you make it sound like I don't want her to know. I do. I'm just doing what's best for her."
"Right. You're just looking out for her. This has nothing to do with the fact that if Lois doesn't know about you, you can put off dealing with how you feel about her." Oliver rolled his eyes at Clark's expression. "Look, personally I think you're making a mistake, but I can't tell you what to do Clark. Just ask yourself this: Are you really being selfless, or are you just being selfish?"
Clark's mouth tightened, but Oliver held up a hand. "Sorry; I'm not trying to pick a fight with you Clark. This is your situation to deal with, after all. Can I ask you a question, though? Totally un-Lois related, I swear."
"Sure."
Oliver grinned. "What are you going to wear?"
"Nothing leather, I can tell you that." Clark smiled back, and almost instantly, the tense atmosphere disappeared.
"Aw come on. What I wore when we were fooling Jimmy worked pretty well."
"I thought I told you," Clark said, as he made his way to the elevator, "I won't do capes."
"Suit yourself," Oliver shrugged, laughing lightly. "Where you off to now?"
"To see Lois," Clark replied. "I think you're right. She and I have some things to discuss."
"Die! Die!" were the first things Clark heard as he walked back into the house. Immediately he went on alert.
"Lois?" he said, hurrying towards the living room. He stopped short when he saw her sitting on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on her lap. The dress was gone now, replaced by a pair of his sweatpants and a blue plaid shirt. Judging by the damp curls at the end of her hair, she had already taken advantage of his hot water and taken a lengthy shower.
"I – what are you watching?" he asked, glancing over at the TV.
"Alien vs Predator," she answered. "It was on TV. Normally I don't like TV edits, but this one is pretty good. I – wait," she said, trying not to smile. "You don't find this insulting, do you?"
She gestured to the TV, biting back a grin. Clark rolled his eyes and gave her a sarcastic smile. He walked out to hang up his coat.
"If it makes you feel any better," she called, laughter evident in her words now, "I'll cheer for the aliens."
Clark threw his coat on a hook. "I stopped by your apartment and picked up some clothes."
Lois leapt off the couch and grabbed the bag he had taken the time to pack. "Thanks Smallville. One more hour in plaid, and I might have found myself actually enjoying it."
She ran upstairs and returned a minute later, adjusting a pair of black dress pants and a blue blouse. Clark swallowed loudly. Her hair was still a mess, and she wasn't wearing any make-up, but still… she looked beautiful. Then again, who was he kidding? He had thought she looked beautiful even when she'd been bruised and bloody.
"Clark?"
"I – what?" he said, snapping out of his daze.
"I said I need your truck," she repeated. "I'm going to the Planet."
Clark's eyes widened. "You finished?"
"Yep. If I go now, I might just be able to catch Tess before she leaves." She grabbed the keys off a hook and turned to go.
"Wait." His hand shot out to grab her arm. She turned slowly, her eyes on his hand. Her gaze slowly travelled up to his face. The tension reminded Clark of the night before. Someone's heart was thumping loudly, but he couldn't get his head together enough to tell if it was his or Lois'.
"You were saying?" she said softly.
"Do you want me to come with you? There's some stuff I want to talk to you about," he managed to say.
Something flickered behind her eyes, and for a minute, he was sure she was going to say yes. But then she shook her head. "Actually, I think I should go by myself. We can talk tomorrow, okay?"
Clark nodded. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, Lois."
Tess Mercer reclined in her chair, surveying the office around her with a calculating expression. The past few months that she'd been in charge had been interesting, to say the least. She had had no idea that being the CEO of Luthorcorp included such a range of duties. To say residing over the Daily Planet was one of her least favorites would be an understatement. She hated some of the people she had to deal with.
Her assistant poked her head into the room. "Miss Mercer? Lois Lane is here to see you."
Speaking of people she hated... Tess sat up. "Send her in."
Seconds later, Lois Lane stalked into the room, a stack of papers clutched in her hand. Tess had never seen the woman look so sloppy.
"Miss Lane," she said coolly."Just showing up to work now. You know, there are a lot of reporters out there who would give their left arm to work here. I'm sure most of them could manage to show up on time. Give me one reason why I shouldn't fire you on the spot"
Lois rolled her eyes. "Because if you fire me now, you'll never get to hear about the story I just got."
"And what story would that be?" Tess challenged.
"Let's just say you can forget firing me. You're going to want to give me a raise." Lois tossed the papers down on Tess' desk. "I just got the interview of the century."
Hey guys. I apologize for the lack of Clois action in this chapter, but I felt that the two of them needed some advice from outside sources so they could get their opinions together. As for future Clois interactions, I promise: the next chapter will not disappoint. ;) Please Review!!