A/N: Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to submit a review. I can't tell you how much I appreciate receiving your comments.
Lois shot through the front door of her apartment and tossed her keys on the coffee table, which made a loud clang as metal hit glass. In her right hand were two bags of piping hot food from Rita's Gourmet House. She placed them on the kitchen counter and opened them, inhaling the sweet aroma of cheese and pasta sauce.
"Jason, go wash your hands. Then please set the table," she said, rushing to the bedroom.
"But, mommy…" came his plea from the kitchen.
"No, buts, Jason. Just do it."
Reluctantly, he pushed the blue plastic step stool over to the kitchen sink and stepped up to the faucet, lathering his hands with two large gobs of liquid soap. After rinsing, he reached over to grab a paper towel, which dangled from a roll just beneath a cabinet. He pushed himself up on the tips of his toes and stretched out his hand as far as he could reach. To close the final inch he pushed off the stool, grabbing the towel but sending the stool careening into the dishwasher.
"Jason?" Lois called from the bedroom.
"I'm all right, mommy!" He bent down and pushed the stool over to the other side of the sink, dragging it along the floor so its plastic feet screeched along the ceramic tile. He stepped up and grabbed two plates from the cabinet and placed them on the counter.
In her bedroom, Lois stood in front of her open closet. She pushed aside hangers full of outfits, dismissing each one in turn. Clark would be here any minute. She silently cursed for being so late but fortunately, he was never on time either. All afternoon she had been across town trying to get an interview with Miles Sutton, a gift shop owner whose establishment had been the target of a gang-related robbery. The police had held him for nearly three hours and by the time she had the chance to talk to him he'd been convinced not to talk to the press. It had taken her less than eight minutes, however, to get him to tell her the story. No one could keep a secret from Lois Lane for very long.
She passed up several more outfits when her hands came to rest on a simple black dress, garnished with a single strand of lace that cut the top from the bottom. With spaghetti straps and a sexy scoop neckline that still left plenty to the imagination, she gleamed in satisfaction at her selection.
She slipped the dress over her head and wiggled her hips to will it into place around her body. Watching her movements in the mirror, she hastily pushed her hair up with bobby pins, releasing several curls to frame her face.
She rushed back into the kitchen and eyed the table Jason had just finished setting. "You know Clark is coming over, honey, please set a third place setting." Ignoring her, Jason pushed his yellow Tonka truck across the room, releasing a loud vroom as he did so.
She transferred the contents from the bag into a large glass pan, sprinkling some fresh parmesan cheese on top, giving it the best homemade impression she could muster. Satisfied, she pulled out a bottle of champagne. As she was pushed a corkscrew into the top, the phone rang. She pressed the receiver up to her cheek, gripping it with her shoulder as she used both hands to pop the cork off the bottle. "Richard?"
A moment of silence. "Lois? How did you know it was me?"
"You always call this time of day," she said gently. They exchanged pleasantries and spoke for a few moments before she handed the phone to Jason, who was still sitting on the floor. "Honey, it's your dad."
He grabbed the phone out of her hands, exclaimed "Daddy!" and ran into his room and slammed the door.
Before she could react, there was a knock at the front door. She rushed back to her bedroom and felt blindly with her feet into the dark closet for her favorite pair of black high-heeled shoes. Slipping them on, she went to answer the door.
"You don't have to knock," she said, waving him inside.
Clark stood before her, slouching, dressed in a brown plaid business suit and his trademark glasses that obscured his beautiful blue eyes.
He smiled shyly, "I know." Removing his suit jacket, he placed it neatly onto the back of one of the kitchen chairs. In ritual movements, he removed his matching plaid vest and put it gently on top of the jacket, smoothing it out to avoid any wrinkles. Next, he loosened his brown tie, striped with wide white lines, and slipped it off his head. As he reached up to his collar, Lois pushed his hands away and unbuttoned the top three buttons, revealing bare skin underneath. She slipped her fingers underneath his shirt, letting them linger for just a moment. He grabbed one of his shirt cuffs and unbuttoned it, then rolled up his sleeve as Lois did the same with his other sleeve. Lastly, he removed his glasses and tucked them into the pocket of his suit jacket while Lois weaved both her hands through his hair.
"It's good to see you again," she said softly, smiling. She stretched up onto her toes and gave him a kiss. His change in demeanor once stripped of his disguise, whether business suit or blue suit, was intoxicating. Once she realized that Superman was Clark Kent, she recalled how moments of Clark-ness would creep up during their time together. The shy smiles, country-boy charm, and slight naiveté, all mixed in with a physical strength and self-assurance that finally made her see they were pieces of the same puzzle.
Lois walked back to the kitchen counter.
"Do you need any help?" He offered, but she just gestured for him to sit down.
"Vegetable lasagna," she said, answering the question forming on his lips as she brought it over to the table. "And for dessert we have lemon meringue pie."
"It looks delicious. You really didn't have to go to all this trouble."
She waved her hand in dismissal. "Nah! It was nothing." Silently she pushed the paper bag that read "Rita's Gourmet House" into the garbage. She had promised him dinner, that is, a home cooked meal, but surely he knew this was the closest to such a concept she ever got.
"Jason! Dinner's ready!"
He didn't come. Angrily, she walked back to his room but stopped short when he heard his voice.
Clark made the effort to not listen in, but that was a hard promise to make with super hearing. He focused on the TV tuned to a football game in the apartment above, only to have his efforts punctured by his son's words, "I don't want to!" and "I hate him!" repeated over and over.
"Richard," she said quietly, knowing she stated the obvious.
Clark simply nodded.
A few moments later, Jason's door opened, and the boy walked slowly into the kitchen, his face hanging. He stepped up onto the stool and grabbed another plate, hesitating a moment before setting it in front of Clark.
"Thank you," Clark said warmly. Lois smiled.
Without looking up, Jason said softly, "Daddy says that I should be a little nicer to you." Lois stifled a laugh.
"Okay, cool!"
With the ice broken, at least for the evening, dinner went on without incident. For a few minutes that night, Lois thought it felt like, for the first time, that they were a family. Jason was quiet and said very little, but he didn't blow up at Clark either.
Later, when it was time for bed, Jason kissed his mother goodnight. Remembering his promise to his dad, he waved reluctantly to Clark from across the room.
"Goodnight, Jason!" Clark's voice bellowed.
As his door closed, Lois remarked how her son's movement reminded her of the man sitting next to her. Together, they cleaned up the table and put the dishes in the sink, then settled into the living room.
Clark sat down on the couch, stretching his long legs out onto the footrest while Lois lay down and put her head upon his chest.
"I've been thinking," she began, lazily tracing circles with her fingers on his chest, "maybe you two should spend some time together." Before he could say anything she continued, "Jason's school has this father-son weekend where everyone goes on a camping trip together up to Mount Airy Lake. He's a little young for that, but maybe you could find out what Jason would like to do."
Clark shifted uncomfortably. "A guys-only weekend? I don't know if we're ready for that Lois. Just because Richard told him…"
She reached up behind her and cupped his head in her hands. He gave each one a soft kiss. "Just think about it." They lay still for a few minutes, enjoying a peace that came all too rarely.
"Stay with me tonight," she whispered.
She needn't ask twice. He picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He pulled down the comforter, folding it neatly at the edge of the bed, then placed her gently down on the mattress. Then he removed his shirt and pants and snuggled up behind her, pulling her into his arms and resting his head against the nape of her neck.
Early the next morning, Lois woke up alone. Reaching over to where he'd been the night before she found a note, carefully folded in half and laying on the pillow. It read, "I just remembered that I forgot to feed my fish. I'll see you at work. Love, Clark." She laughed, remembering the last time he used that line with her, five years ago.
Lois, Jimmy and another reporter, Alexa Huntington, were gathered in Perry's office. Perry held up the article that would headline tomorrow's paper. "I am so proud of you, Lois. This is great work!"
"Thanks, Chief." She had just returned from the courthouse after listening to the verdict in the Bobby Knightly trial. Life in prison.
Her top-notch, investigative reporting was instrumental in his capture, and did not go unnoticed by Knightly. As he was removed from the courtroom by the bailiff, he looked pointedly at Lois and screamed about how he was going to make her pay someday. His words sent a shiver down her spine but she stood up and walked proudly out of the courtroom. She likened it to the feeling Clark must have when he saves someone.
"Where's Clark been all day? Why wasn't he helping you with this?" Perry asked.
"Oh, uh, he's been feeling a little under the weather today." She was surprised how easily the lies rolled off her tongue these days. He'd been in India helping the victims of a massive earthquake all morning and had only returned in the last hour.
"Really? He looked fine when I saw him ten minutes ago." Alexa was a veteran reporter who'd been with the Daily Planet for nearly twenty years. She'd landed a few winning stories over the years, but she was no match for Lois Lane.
"Actually, Lois, it's you who's looking a little tired today," Jimmy said, pointing to the bags underneath her eyes.
"I'm fine, really."
Just then there was a loud thud outside Perry's office. The group simultaneously turned towards the sound, and saw Clark standing next to a small file cabinet holding his knee.
"I just don't know what you see in that guy," Alexa said, shaking her head.
"Excuse me?" Lois asked, reeling in her irritation.
"Well, Lois," she continued with a nervous laugh, tossing her long blonde hair out of her face. "Don't get me wrong. Clark's a nice guy, but he's not exactly your type. I mean, going from a guy like Richard to him? What were you thinking?"
"Oh, so now you're an expert on my love life."
Alexa laughed, while Perry and Jimmy looked on at the catfight emerging before their eyes. "Well you do have an affinity for tall men with dark hair and blue eyes. And both Richard and Clark look a lot like…"
"Look like who?" she demanded.
Alexa could see the fire forming in her eyes, realizing she had struck a nerve. "Sorry, Lois. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just some of us think you're with him because, well frankly, you couldn't get the real thing."
"Is that what you think?" She looked from Alexa, then to Jimmy, who immediately diverted his gaze to analyze the patterns on the carpet. "It's nice to know my colleagues hold me in such high regard."
She stomped out the door, not looking back. Her mind was reeling. If Alexa was making comparisons of Clark to Superman, how many other people were doing the same? His disguise worked not because his glasses did such a great job of masking his face, but because his personality was so different from that of Superman no one would ever suspect him. He was shy, unassuming, invisible, as he needed to be. But at that moment she likened herself in Clark's life to a woman wearing red to a funeral.
She sat down at her desk and began tapping loudly away at her keyboard. Looking over at Clark, she mumbled softly underneath her breath. A moment later, she walked over to the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor. She made eye contact with him as the doors closed in front of her.
When she got on the roof, Superman was waiting for her.
She paced around the small rooftop, letting her anger dissipate before opening her mouth. It was windy, and she had to hold down her hair with her hand. "People are starting to talk. It has me worried."
"Do you worry about what other people think?"
"No, of course not! But what if someone starts putting two and two together?"
"People will always make comparisons, there's no way around that. The best thing to do is not call attention to it."
"What if someone finds out? What then? What will happen to you if…" He reached down and pressed his hands to her cheeks, willing her to calm down.
"We just have to be careful," he said reassuringly as his cape billowed in the wind.
"I just… Sometimes I think about how much more difficult I've made your life. Me and Jason."
He smiled, "It was already that way, long before I ever met you. And besides, you and Jason are a blessing, not a complication."
She smiled, looking up into his sapphire blue eyes, "How are we going to handle this?"
"We'll," he started, moving away from her. "I think it's come to the point where we need to end our relationship."
Her heart stopped. "What?"
He smiled, shaking his head. "What I mean Lois is that I think you need to break up with Superman."
"You're not serious."
"Of course I am. You can't be dating two men at once," he laughed.
She shook her head, "You're terrible."
Moving in closer to her, he said, "Of course, if you would rather break up with Clark Kent…"
"No, no!" She rested her hands on his chest, circling his "S" symbol with her finger. "Superman, I can't see you anymore. I'm in love with another man."
"Well then, I guess this is goodbye."
She slapped him playfully, "You're going to let me go, just like that? No fight?"
"No fight," he whispered, pulling her towards him for a kiss. "But I do have one request. Will you come with me for one last flight?"
"Where would we go?"
"Anywhere you want."
"Paris?"
"Not a problem."
"Vienna?"
He shook his head.
"Up a mile high?"
"Excuse me?"
Perry was livid. The copy boy had just spilled coffee all over his shirt, and the production office just called to say they put out a small fire which would shut down the presses, probably all night, and delay the morning edition. To top it off, his wife had just yelled at him for forgetting about a dinner party tonight. There was only one place to clear his head at the Daily Planet.
Exiting the elevator, he pulled open the stairwell door that led to the roof, and stopped dead in his tracks.
Voices, whispers really, carried through the air and clearly down the stairwell. One was Lois Lane, of that he was certain. But the other was too low pitched to be Clark Kent, and that's who, he surmised, it should have been.
"So what do you think?" Lois' voice said.
"It's an idea with… possibilities," the man's voice bellowed.
"What about right now?"
"Don't you have an article to write?" The man laughed.
"Aren't you the one I need to interview in order to write it?"
A moment of silence. Perry sat down on the steps, in disbelief over what he was hearing.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm making it easier for you."
"You're unbelievable."
"I would uh, help you with yours, but seeing as how you wear them on the outside it won't help us much," her voice was playful.
"I love you, Lois Lane."
"Sweep me off my feet, Superman."
Still sitting on the steps, Perry heard a swoosh and the voices suddenly silenced. He held his hand to his beating heart. Oh shit.
The morning edition had made it out on time after all. Perry sat inside his office, basking in the pleasure of watching his employees go about their business. He glanced over at Clark, who was standing by Lois' desk. He was laughing at something she had said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "That guy's oblivious," he muttered.
Watching them separate, he saw Clark head toward the elevators. In a moment of decision, he jumped out of his chair. "Hold that elevator!" Perry yelled as he came rushing over.
It was a long ride down to the lobby, but soon the elevator chimed and the crowd exited. Clark waited for everyone to file out before him, which made it easier for Perry to grab him by the shoulder.
"Oh hi, Mr. White," Clark said shyly.
"Kent," he cleared his throat, still not sure if his chosen course of action was the right one. "Let me buy you a drink."
"Huh?"
"Murphy's across the street. It's Happy Hour."
"Oh, Mr. White. I can't. Lois is waiting for me."
"It can wait." Perry held a firm grasp on Clark's shoulder, practically dragging him across the lobby and down the steps in front of the Daily Planet.
Murphy's was an Irish pub with rustic décor and aged, round wooden tables. Its location at the center of the business district meant it attracted heavy crowds early, and tonight was no exception. The air was musty and filled with cigarette smoke.
Perry pushed Clark onto a stool at the bar. To the bartender he said, "Two of whatever you got." Then he turned to Clark, "This may seem presumptuous of me. Your personal life is none of my business."
Clark's eyes widened in horrific anticipation of where Perry's train of thought would lead.
"Look Clark, I like you. You're a nice guy and a damn good reporter. But you're also a little naïve so I'm not going to sugar-coat this for you." He took a sip of his beer. "Lois is cheating on you."
"E-E-Excuse me? W-with whom?" He really hoped this conversation wasn't going where he thought it was.
"I think you know whom," he responded.
It was going where he thought it was.
He took another sip of beer. "Frankly, Clark, you're not her type. Richard was and she strung him along for five long years. I don't want to see her do to you what she did to him. You understand?"
Clark's eyes narrowed, trying to keep a straight face. "Y-yes, Mr. White."
Perry took a deep gulp of his beer and gasped. In all of thirty seconds he had said what needed to be said. Satisfied, he stood up. He threw a couple of bills on the counter, patted Clark on the shoulder, and walked out of the bar.
Clark remained seated on the stool, staring at the beer in his hands, not knowing whether it was appropriate to laugh.
TO BE CONTINUED