Hopeful Idiot – Chapter 06: Identity

As Hope set the timer for the oven, she sighed. "If I'm really going to give this a shot, then…" she pulled her laptop towards her and began to investigate. She poured over document after document, trying to find a loophole. Something. Anything that would prevent anyone (other than herself and stupid Lois) from discovering the (rather obvious) association between Superman and Clark Kent. She found none.

She sat back in her seat and stared at the ceiling as she pondered the problem. "Need a Plan B."

Hope pulled the casserole out of the oven, put the special ham hock into the oven, and nodded decisively. It wasn't the best solution, but it was the only one that seemed feasible. "Okay," she muttered to herself, heading back to her desk, "time for Plan C." Fortunately for a person such as herself, the required forgeries didn't take long. Not long after that, the forgeries were accepted into every major governmental branch. Then came the REAL hacking.

Some time later, her oven timer went off. She cursed under her breath. "Idiot!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. Not two seconds later there was a light tap at her balcony, "It's open. Grab the ham out of the oven, would ya'? I'm in the middle of the IRS website and can't stop."

"Sure," Superman answered easily, his voice curious but amiable.

"Potholders are in the drawer to the right of the oven."

He gave a soft chuckle, "Thanks but I don't need them."

"Show off."

His laugh deepened, making things in her lower middle tighten. She bit her lip as a particularly difficult firewall tried to make her laptop a pile of sludge and put a tracker on her at the same time. "No. No. No. No. Nonononono," she muttered continuously, "Don't chase me. Give up already! You stupid multi-level confundous—"

"What are you doing?" he asked, staring at her screen over her shoulder in confusion.

"I'm killing you," she answered.

Superman blinked at her. "What?" he deadpanned.

"Would ya' gimme a minute, this is not as easy as it looks." Thankfully he stayed silent for the next 6.23 minutes it took her to crash the program, erase the evidence of her tampering, and exit. "I'm almost done," she assured him when she saw his mouth open from the corner of her eye. His eyes narrowed as he saw her pull up another three links, all of which he recognized. Nine minutes later, she leaned back and grinned at him sideways. "Aaaand, done!" She shut the computer down and handed it to him. "Break this please. Actually, if you could drop it into a volcano as you go home, that'd be better."

This time his glare was strong. He didn't take the laptop. "What did you do? That was the websites for my alma mater, high school, and the Smallville Hospital. What do you mean you were killing me?" he growled.

Hope rolled her eyes as she got to her feet and stretched. "Pretty much what I said. I just killed Clark Jonathan Kent. Well, sorta." She narrated as she went to the kitchen and began to pull out place settings. "All the paperwork in the world now says that Clark Jonathan Kent died right after graduating high school in Smallville, Kansas." She emphasized his middle name that had been on no document other than a birth certificate when she had started.

Superman crossed his arms as his glare intensified. "So who is going to work tomorrow?"

She grinned at him with no small amount of mischief, "Clark Jasper Kent, a reporter for The Daily Planet is going to work tomorrow. He graduated magna cum laude from Metropolis High, extra curriculars with his school paper and captain of the chess club, where he then went on to receive the highest honors for his degree in Investigative Journalism at Metropolis University. Clark Jasper was born and grew up in Metropolis, where he now lives and works. He has no association with Smallville and, in fact, has never before traveled what some people call 'fly over country'."

His mouth was hanging slightly open in shock as she set a plate of food in front of him and continued, "Since you have only ever used Clark Kent, no middle name, it was relatively simple to alter the paperwork. Your current Social Security Number and IRS information is correct and up-to-date with the new background information. After I got done with that, I just had to alter any photos from your hometown so that you were either cropped out of the picture or Photoshopped just enough that Clark Jonathan Kent could be your brother or cousin, but not you exactly. It's enough evidence to make anyone doubt a connection.

"As far as I'm aware, the only remaining accounts of Clark Jasper being the same man as Clark Jonathan are eyewitnesses. Most of whom can be easily discredited if it should ever become an issue, especially to Average Joe Public who aren't willing to put in the time and effort of confirming sources. The only ones that might – might – be believed are your mother and Lois Lane. You said she knew. Does she know your background? Your hometown? Ever met your mother?"

The new Clark Jasper Kent nodded slowly as he processed what the redhead in front of him had done. "All of the above," he whispered hoarsely, then reached for his glass.

Hope grimaced, "It can't be helped, but I'll start to think of a way to make sure that Lane stays away. In the meantime, you – meaning the Superman you – needs to start disassociating yourself with Lois. How about branching out? Do interviews with other newspapers, not just the Planet. The New York Times, Los Angeles Times, and the Chicago Tribune are all good options. Or perhaps the New York Post, Dallas Morning News, Star Tribune, or the Washington Post. All those are in the top 10 newspapers for the U.S.A. If you want to go international, I'd recommend the BBC. Heck, you could even do an interview on ABC, FOX, CNN, or even MSNBC if you want, but you really need to get out from under Lois! She's too much of a target. Someone could easily go through her, straight to you and your mother," she finished solemnly.

His mouth snapped shut, a stubbornness straightening his shoulders and firming his resolve. "Understood," he took his first bite of the meal and froze. Swallowed. Began to eat with relish…and didn't stop to speak again until he'd finished the ham and half the casserole. When he finally slowed down enough to look up, he saw Hope's wide Cheshire grin. He blushed deeply at his poor manners. His mother would have hit his hands several times over for such rude behavior at the dinner table. "It's really good," he said lamely.

Hope burst out laughing.

+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++

This chapter is a gift to CrystalAris, who graciously spent a couple hours helping me iron out details last night.