NINE
Clark finds a moment to separate himself from the admiring Scientific and Technological Advanced Research Laboratories employees. Most of the S.T.A.R. scientists view Clark as much a hero in science and mathematics as they do his deeds as Superman. The room he escapes to serves as S.T.A.R.'s moon and space observatory. It has two levels - the top floor allows for a pivoting three hundred sixty-degree view of either the moon's surface or up and out towards the stars so far and those even farther away.
Clark sits down upon one of the surprisingly comfortable chairs. He feels the chair's supple leather material. He inwardly smiles at the absurdity of a cow realizing its hide would make it to the moon.
"Didn't quite jump over it, though," Clark thinks.
He strokes his chin feeling the several days' worth of stubble that Diana loves so much. She has tried convincing him to grow a full beard on multiple occasions. The one time he voluntarily obliged, the action totally freaked out the world's populace. So much so, the would-be facial hair growth became a point of international debate during his first attempt in the early 1960s. American television broadcasts would even lead the nightly news with segments on whether this was a counter culture demonstration leading to the hippie sub-culture that took over large segments of American youth.
In his only other attempt, Clark tried, or was rather forced, into letting his facial hair grow after losing a bet with Arthur. If Arthur had lost, he would have taken his own beard completely off. And Arthur's beard, at the time several years ago, was thick and long. Thanks to Mera finally convincing him, Arthur now wears it nicely trimmed accentuating his strong facial features. Regardless, Clark lost and he was unable to shave for six months. Clark's beard, or lack thereof, actually trended worldwide again, but this gossip was primarily fueled via the internet's social media sites. Once the time commitment ended, he took little time in taking a self-designed razor to the scraggily hair on his face. And of course, that too trended on the world wide web for a couple days. The man of steel returned to being clean shaven or sporting a stubble, which the world determined Superman definitely wore well.
"I thought I'd find you here," Diana says entering the observatory from below.
Clark smiles as she makes her way to him and sits down onto his lap. His arm caresses her back, his hand landing on her jean cladded thigh.
"So beautiful," she says admiring outer space through the thick, yet clear barrier of glass.
"Emil and the others done talking your head off?" Clark asks.
"Not quite," she says. "He still wants to run skin epidermis, density something-or-other tests on me."
"That's Emil," Clark says. "There's always a constant for him to analyze and disrupt."
Diana turns her head observing Clark's somber expression. "And what are you analyzing?" she says caressing and pulling at Clark's face.
"Ow," Clark feigns as Diana tugs on some of his longer face hairs.
"Aw," Diana mock soothes. "Did the big, tough Superman-y get hurt?"
Clark begins to poke and tickle Diana using his more than half-century knowledge of her ticklish spots. Their laughter, rather Clark's laughter fills the room as Diana struggles to breathe as Clark's attack continues.
"Stopp, stoppp," she manages between taking in air.
He does stop, only to gently pull Diana's head toward his. Her kiss, her lips make him feel anything is possible. Breaking away, their eyes are only a few inches away from the other.
"I adore these moments, my love," Diana says. "But I feel you struggling with something."
Clark hesitates in engaging Diana's eyes with his. "Yeah. Not so much struggling. Steve surprised me with something just after we got here."
"And?" Diana asks.
"Annnd," Clark draws looking into his wife's eyes. "What are the steps of scientific method?"
Diana raises an eyebrow. "Being your wife makes that easy. Question. Research. Hypothesis. Experiment. Observe. Results. And if results warrant it, communicate to the world for scrutiny and or acknowledgement."
"I keep saying this, but I'm the luckiest man ever," Clark smiles.
"And I'll keep agreeing," she says playing with Clark's hair.
"Talk to me, Kal," Diana asks.
"I think I've found a way for us to conceive," Clark manages.
Diana's lips part several times, but no words escape.
"Yeah, that was my reaction when Steve corroborated my work," Clark continues.
"Your work?" Diana manages. "When? How long have you been working on this?"
"When we were first told. Our lineages would not allow such a conception," Clark replies. "A demi-goddess of Earth with a Kryptonian."
"You're telling me," Diana words slowly and carefully. "You and I. Can have a child?"
Clark looks up to his so sweet wife. "Yes, due to…"
Clark is unable to finish his words before Diana kisses him with such force it moves their chair.
"I don't care how," she says kissing his lips over and over again. "Just that we can."
She pulls back her head. "We can?"
"Yes," Clark says. "We can."
Diana's glorious smile washes slightly away noticing a distinct buzz in her ear. She looks at Clark with a bit of irritation. "You have an incoming, too?"
"Yep," Clark says. "It's Watchtower."
Diana smirks nodding to the unwanted interruption. "Watchtower. Clark and Diana," she states out to the empty room.
"It's Vic," Clark and Diana hear in their ears.
"I know we're running late, but we should be there in a few minutes," Clark states.
"Guys," they hear Victor's voice. "We may have a problem with Hal and J'onn. Can you get to the tower asap?"
Clark and Diana exchange puzzling, worried expressions.
"Are they okay?" Diana asks.
"To be honest, I don't know," Victor says.
"We'll be there in two minutes," Clark says. "Everyone else there?"
"Yes," Victor responds. "We're in the meeting room."
"Okay. Out," Clark says.
"The tale of our lives," Diana says getting up from Clark's lap. "Roll with what comes forth."
Clark stands taking his wife's hand. "Regardless, I'm putting a baby in you, Diana of Themyscira."
Diana gets a glint in her eye putting her free hand on Clark's chest. "Yes you will, Kal-El of Krypton. But first, we tend to our friends."
Their mutual smiles quickly turn into resolve as they move to exit the room.
"Transporter or fly?" Clark asks Diana.
"I appreciate the technology, but I'll take the flying," Diana says. "The molecular breaking down still gets to me."
Clark smiles. "I got you."
"Forever and a day," Diana responds.
Forty-three seconds later, Clark and Diana land on Watchtower. They elicit awe and smiles from the Watchtower workers and residents as they make their way to the meeting room. Entering the room, they find Victor, Bruce, Arthur and Barry in animated discussion.
"That may not be the best action," Clark says to the quartet at the table.
"How long you've been listening?" Bruce asks.
"Not long," Clark says as he and Diana move to sit down next to each other at the table. "We forgot our air pockets. Couldn't say anything after leaving S.T.A.R. Neither here nor there. This is pretty much a worst-case scenario - no viable way to reach Hal and J'onn. We have no relays yet established for instant communication. A month from now and this would have all been moot. Would be able to speak to Hal and J'onn from here."
"So, what do we do? Now?" Victor asks.
Clark lowers his head slightly, his hand massaging the folds of his eye brows. "Answer the question - do we have time to re-evaluate? Figure it out on our own. The tech, applications involved to travel that far. Fast enough," Clark says. "I should have pressed Hal to get this done before he and J'onn took off."
"Two things – not you, but we, decided to cut corners," Bruce observes. "Allowing others to give us the ability. Give a man a fish, you know the rest. And secondly, the Corps has an army of Green Lanterns that have existed for centuries. Even you, Clark would be hard-pressed to beat the full weight of the Green Lanterns. Something catastrophically bad happening to them is the least viable answer right now."
Clark nods affirmatively not making eye contact with Bruce. He stares out the window. To Earth. Even from such a great distance, Clark is able to detect the intermittent flashing beacon on top of his and Diana's building.
"Okay, that's all well and good," Diana says. "But to Victor's question, what do we do now?"
"We wait to hear from J'onn and Hal. In the meantime, Clark, Vic, Hamilton and Dayton get their big brains together and figure it out," Arthur plainly states.
"So, that's it?" Barry asks. "All we can do is wait?"
"No," Bruce says. "We do our jobs on Earth, and until Clark or Vic says otherwise, that's what we continue to do."
Several days later, Diana awakens to see the digital clock showing 2:32am Metropolis time. Clark is not beside her. His side of the bed is undisturbed. Her bare feet land on the metal floor as she gets up and puts on a t-shirt and Watchtower sweat pants. She kicks on a pair of slippers and exit the windowless room. She walks down one of the many hallways of the S.T.A.R.'s moon facility. She encounters no one as she enters an access code to a controlled entry room.
Diana finds Clark and Victor, in the center of the cavernous room, analyzing a large, 3-D holographic representation of what looks to be propulsion units and schematics. Steve Dayton and Professor Hamilton are busy moving to and from multiple workstations. A far window shows the constant stars and the distant red planet, Mars.
She thinks of J'onn, her friend, as she plops down on a large, bean-bag sofa. Clark, carrying a mug of coffee, takes a sip as he walks over.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asks.
"I like having my husband at my side when I am," she says.
Clark offers a weary smile and his coffee mug. Diana takes a sip as Clark casually floats down onto the sofa.
"Nothing?" Diana asks with a yawn.
"Actually," Clark says. "Steve and Emil are running some sims. It looks. Promising."
"Really?" Diana asks snuggling into Clark's warm side.
"You willing to be a guinea pig with me on testing?" Clark asks.
"Like you really had to ask," Diana says taking another taste. "How soon?"
"That's what Vic and I were discussing," Clark says. "Maybe by Earth Friday."
"You haven't slept in seventy-three hours," Diana says. "Even a Superman needs rest."
"Your point?" Clark sighs as his tired eyelids flicker up and down.
"You know my point," Diana asserts. "You're getting at least four hours of sleep. Now. No arguments."
"I will take your silence as agreement," Diana observes with her head resting on Clark's sweatshirt covered chest. She looks upward to find Clark's eyes completely closed. She starts to settle herself more into Clark's body just as Victor approaches.
"I'll take that," he says to Diana.
Diana hands Victor the coffee mug. "Thanks. You too, get some sleep."
"I will," he says.
"Is it true?" she asks. "You have something?"
"Incredible. The algorithms and calculations your husband came up with. He's brilliant," Victor states.
"Yes, he is," Diana agrees. "But I know he would be the first to say, and correctly, that it was not just him."
Victor smiles. "You also get some sleep," he says wearily turning to leave.
"Victor?" Diana calls.
Victor turns back to Diana.
"We can never make the time perfect, so you should not put off the now hoping the future will guarantee such time," she says.
"Not following," he says.
"Sarah Simms," Diana states.
Victor smiles shaking his head. "Does everyone know?
"I care about you, we all do," Diana says. "And I've talked with Sarah."
"Diana," Victor panics.
"Don't worry," she calms. "Nothing embarrassing. She's an intelligent, beautiful, caring woman. Who has affection for you. When have you last seen her?"
"With all this going on," Victor begins.
"Exactly my point," Diana says. "Trust me on this. Make the time."
"Now?" Victor says. "She's asleep."
"She won't mind," Diana assures.
Victor looks over to Dayton and Hamilton.
"Victor," Diana calls.
He looks back down to Diana.
"Follow your heart, and your mind and body will not only follow, but will adapt," she says.
Victor expels a sigh. "Okay."
"Okay," Diana repeats.
Victor places the cup down on a nearby workstation. He mouths a thanks to Diana and exits the room. He will stop off at his room to clean himself up. At approximately 3:05am, he will buzz Sarah Simms residential living space. Her arms and heart will welcome him in.
"That was impressive," Clark whispers to Diana, his eyes still closed.
"I thought you were asleep," she says.
"Just about," he says. "Follow your heart, ehh?"
"You disagree?" Diana questions.
"No," Clark answers. "Not at all."
Clark finds some semblance of sleep that will last decidedly less than the four hours ordered by Diana.
It was following his heart that led Clark to knocking on Lois Lane's apartment door on December 12, 1919. Prior to that snowy evening, Clark had spent the time after Thanksgiving debating how he would fund his life. Would watching over the planet be his full-time existence? He could not be everywhere simultaneously, so what balance would his life revolve around? Allowing the world to know who he truly was would end what he had spent most of his life being - a guy named Clark Kent who grew up in a small town and made his way to the big city of Metropolis in pursuit of academia and research.
Clark, if he so chose, could make himself ridiculously wealthy in little time. He could tap into a plethora of yet to be discovered veins of natural resources from oil to gold to diamonds. Or, should he work with the government? Not just of the United States, but all world governments that would recognize his true desire to aid human kind. Ultimately, he decided that would not only be foolish but also naïve on his end.
Maybe, he finally concluded, the best course of immediate action would be to parse this out with someone he knew to be honest, savvy and intelligent with her opinions. A dynamite journalist for the "Daily Planet" newspaper who would have little regard for someone who chose not to choose. She would target him with derision as someone meandering through life without clear direction. So, on that Friday evening of 1919, Clark Kent mustered his biggest smile when Lois Lane opened her apartment door.
She looked lovely in a grey, wool tweed matching skirt and jacket. Her brown hair was styled in a bob cut with bangs resting almost to her eyebrows. The slightly, angular features of her face in profile softened to rounded form punctuated by her pursed lips enhanced with muted, red lipstick.
"Clark Kent, all the way from Smallville," Lois said.
"Lois," Clark replied standing nearly a foot taller despite the high heel shoes she wore. "It's good to see you."
Clark leaned in to kiss a willing Lois on the cheek. Lois held Clark's face there for a second before shifting her face slightly to share their first kiss. A gentle jolt of passion on the lips. It took Clark a second to realize he was kissing Lois, or rather she him before he returned the spark of attraction.
"I've missed you," she said smiling. "Ooh, your face is cold. Still snowing out there?"
"Yeah, traffic is pretty slow, but the snow just blankets the city beautifully," Clark said despite having flown and landed one block away from Lois' Metropolis apartment. "I've missed you too, Lois."
"C'mon in, silly, before the neighbors start talking," she said.
Clark entered the one-bedroom apartment that was functionally decorated. It was exactly how Clark pictured Lois' living space. A few pieces of artwork, of a frugal nature, embedded within an aesthetic of sofa, easy chair, coffee table and nightstands. In one corner was a chair settled into a desk with a typewriter on top.
"Those type of neighbors?" Clark asked.
Lois raised an eyebrow affirming those type of neighbors. "Coat?" she requested from Clark.
"Yeah," Clark said removing his long, black tweed coat, but also removing a rectangular, long package from an inside pocket.
"I was thinking flowers, but I remembered how much you liked these," Clark said.
"Clark, really? You're so sweet," Lois said placing Clark's coat on a coat rack. "Can I open it?
"Of course," he said handing the package to her.
"But first," Lois said. She removed a handkerchief from Clark's suit jacket. "I smudged you up a little."
Lois wiped Clark's grinning mouth. She then took his hand and led him to the sofa. She sat down next to him and placed the package on the coffee table. She removed the package's brown wrapping paper and not believing what her quick glimpse caught, she quickly covered back up the contents with the wrapping paper.
"Clark, how?" she said slightly breathless. "These are impossible to find."
"I have my sources," he said.
"These chocolate clusters can't be found anywhere in Metropolis," Lois said re-opening the package. "Trust me, I've searched."
Lois quickly unwrapped one of the bars. She held it up to Clark. "Bite?" she asked.
Sure," Clark said as Lois broke off a piece of the chocolate, peanut and marshmallow concoction.
Lois took a bite while handing Clark half of the bar. He took a bite admiring that small slice of Lois' gusto for even such mundane things as eating candy.
"You must tell me where you found these," she said to Clark while savoring every morsel of sweet flavor melding in her mouth.
Clark took a beat and a deep breath. "I got them in Tennessee. The company is based there," he said.
"I know," Lois said between bites. "If ever I get down there, I'm making a beeline. I will definitely hoard a bunch of them. When were you in Tennessee?"
"About fifteen minutes ago," Clark said going down the rabbit hole.
Lois stopped chewing. "Funny, Clark," she said trying to contain the chocolate mix in her mouth. "It's what, about a thousand miles from here to there."
"I flew," Clark said finishing up his piece of the chocolate bar.
Lois laughed. "You flew? And, that doesn't strike you as impossible? What did you take? A rocket?"
"I flew, Lois," Clark said. "Literally."
Clark locked eyes with Lois and proceeded to hover off the couch. He settled into a vertical float about a foot off Lois' floor. His head was close to scraping the ceiling.
And there Lois was. Remaining chocolate dissolving in her mouth as the brain function that controlled her chewing seemed to pause. Her mind trying to reconcile what she was seeing. What she always knew to be impossible
"Don't be afraid," Clark said.
Lois finished the chocolate in her mouth absently wiping her mouth with Clark's handkerchief. She slowly stood up backing away from his position.
"Many things are going through my head right now," she said. "Fear is high up."
Clark gently landed to the floor. He held his hands outward, palms up toward Lois.
She calmed her breathing and walked the ten feet to Clark's position. She took his hands.
Lois managed, "I never had a drop of alcohol, and now I think I need some."
Clark grinned. "Well, legally, you only have another month."
"How are you able to, to do that?" she asked. "Was that a magic trick, like Houdini?
"Actually, Lois," Clark answered. "Houdini is more of a stunt illusionist?
"Semantics?" Lois nearly raised her voice. "Was it real, Clark?"
"Are you ready for a grand story?" he asked.
Clark awakens to hear the loud voices of Emil and Steve. Diana is already up off the S.T.A.R. labs sofa.
"What?! What is it?!" Diana demands.
"There," Emil says pointing to the window.
Diana and Clark look out the window. Into space. A large. Very large ship looms.