Okay, before I am a bad, bad writer and forget to mention it, I need to send out a HUGE thank you to my roommate Karen. Not only does she know when to lock me in my room and use her cat to threaten my ankles if I don't get any writing done, she's been endlessly patient as a sounding board for my various ideas – and given me several more! At least one or two of these chapters would have suffered greatly (and not been nearly so funny) without her help.
Also, thanks for everyone's patience in waiting for this to come out. My proclivities for procrastination caught up with me lately. But, hey, there's nothing like the complete heart seizure you experience from realizing you have both a presentation proposal and an admissions essay due in less than twenty-four hours and you haven't even begun to pull them together! Go me!
November
"Perry!" Lois barked as she stormed through the Daily Planet's newsroom and into the Editor in Chief's office. Pulling a tabloid out of her bag and waving it at him, she declared, "We need to do something about this!"
Peering at the paper as she thrust it forcefully under his nose, Perry frowned in confusion and asked, "The batboy living in the Metropolis Subway? I appreciate your enthusiasm, Lois, but I really don't think that's a job for the Daily Planet. If it bothers you that much, I suggest you call animal control. Or maybe the Gotham P.D."
"No!" she growled through gritted teeth as she turned the paper over and slapped it down on the desk in front of him. "This! Can you believe what they're printing?" With an angry gesture, she motioned to the headline: "I Had Superman's Love Child!" She didn't know why she'd felt compelled to buy the tabloid paper that morning, except that she hadn't had her daily quota of caffeine in her system when she'd caught sight of the headline while buying her morning cup of coffee. She should have known that reading it would only make her angrier – reading these articles always made her angrier, but she still couldn't help but fork over the extra dollar fifty as she stuffed it in her bag.
Perry leaned forward and took what Lois thought was an inordinate amount of time to peruse the article. Finally, he leaned back and looked at his star reporter over steepled fingers. "Okay, I'm a little confused here, Lois. I'm not entirely sure what you want us to do."
Throwing herself into a chair across from his desk, she declared, "I want us to ferret out this…Tilford woman and expose her as the liar she is!"
Smirking, he said, "Lois. It's a tabloid. I think you're putting too much stock in their credibility, don't you? Nobody really believes a word they print…which is almost a shame in this case, because apparently, Superman is quite the romancer. I never would have thought it of him."
Lois narrowed her eyes at her Editor in Chief. "Don't you get it, Perry? They print whatever they want because they can get away with it! Superman's certainly not going to step forward and call them a bunch of liars; he never comments on his personal life, if he has one, and he'd just assume that nobody would believe the story anyway!"
"Nobody will believe the story, Lois! I mean, come on." Pausing, he picked up the paper and scanned it. "Do you really think anybody's going to buy that he can do this," he paused, gesturing to a section of the article, "mid-flight? I don't think even he could manage it without dropping his partner."
She felt her face flush, and she definitely didn't share her editor's humor. "It just isn't fair that he works so hard to save the world every day, and this is the kind of thanks he gets! He wouldn't even stoop to thinking about half the stuff they've claimed he's done! I can't stand the thought of even one person believing this, let alone the not-inconsiderable readership of this rag." At the epithet, she gestured emphatically at the paper in question.
Perry sighed and the amusement left his face. "Okay, Lois. I understand what you're saying. But this is the Daily Planet. We don't do news reports on tabloid stories, and we would never get any real reporting done if we spent all of our time trying to discredit them. I can appreciate the way you feel about Superman, but the bottom line is that this is not an issue for the Planet to resolve. If Superman wants to discredit the report, I'm positive that no reporter in the world – myself included – would turn down the chance for a one-on-one interview to address the matter publicly. He's a hero, but he's also a celebrity. It's a disgusting fact of life but a fact of life nevertheless. When you put yourself in the public eye, you have to expect to be tied to this sort of nonsense. I'm sorry, but there's just no story here." Narrowing his eyes, he regarded her closely. "Unless there's something you know that you're just not telling me."
Lois forced herself to take a deep breath and swallow all of her remaining protests. If she pushed the issue, Perry might get suspicious. He may not have done fieldwork for several years, but his reporter's instinct was as sharp as ever. The last thing she or Clark needed was this man trying to ferret out any of the Man of Steel's secrets. With a sigh, she relented, "No. No, of course there isn't. I'm just – I don't know. I suppose I'm overreacting. It's just…you know how I get when it comes to him."
Nodding sagely, his voice softened as he said, "Of course. Everyone knows you've always been a little territorial when it comes to Superman. I remember the first time another reporter tried to nab an interview with him; I thought she was going to beg to go into witness protection, she was so afraid of you after that little 'talk' you gave her."
Lois sniffed. "It's not quite the same thing," she muttered as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Perry laughed. "Oh, of course not. Now, if you don't mind, I have some actual news stories to attend to." When she fixed him with a mulish look but didn't move towards the door, he gave her a stern look. "And I'm pretty sure you do too."
Lois sighed in resignation as she stood to leave. However, as she walked out, she said to her editor, "Okay, but I'm not finished with this, Perry."
As the door swung shut behind her, she could have sworn she heard him say, "No, I never imagined you were."
Though she was more than willing to fume over the tabloid for a while longer, there simply wasn't time. This was probably for the best, since there'd be no way for her to hide her descent into petty jealousy if she brooded on the subject. And she really didn't want Clark to know she was getting so worked up over something so absurd. Perry was right; these types of reports came out about celebrities all the time. She didn't want Clark to think that she couldn't handle the difficulties of being married to the man who was secretly Superman. Not when she'd promised him she could handle it.
With a frown, Lois glanced down at her watch as she headed towards her desk. Just because Perry said there wasn't a story there didn't mean she couldn't pursue it on her own time, but for the moment he was right; she and Clark had an interview scheduled, and she was going to be late if she didn't hurry. As much as she wanted to discredit the tabloid reporter, she had a story to complete. Pausing just long enough to make sure she grabbed everything she needed, Lois headed outside to hail a taxi.
On the way to the interview, she spared a moment to pray that her partner actually showed up as well. He'd had some things he'd had to take care of on the way to work that morning, but he'd promised to arrive on time. Though Lois was certain she'd have no problem handling the job on her own, she would prefer to have Clark there, just in case there was a sudden need for him to use any of his special abilities.
When she stepped out of the cab, however, she relaxed when she caught sight of Clark as he jogged towards her. "Everything okay?" she murmured as she straightened his tie and took his hand.
"Bank robbery in Blüdhaven and a school bus stalled out over railroad tracks in Charleston. Nothing I couldn't handle," he assured her as he leaned down to kiss her in greeting.
As usual, Lois felt so proud when she thought about the ways her husband could and did help people every day. Today, however, she also felt irritation as the reminder of his secret life recalled the tabloid report from that morning. She knew some of her conflicting emotions must have shown on her face when Clark looked at her with concern and asked, "Hey, what's wrong?"
Forcefully putting the thought out of her mind, she plastered a smile on her face and prevaricated, "Wrong? I don't know what you mean. Just getting ready for the interview. Now, come on. We're going to be late."
The woman they were to meet, Eleanor Gibson, turned out to be a very attractive blonde woman in her late twenties or early thirties, with a look on her face that said she clearly wasn't happy about being forced to speak with reporters. Lois was prepared to deal with recalcitrance, but Eleanor seemed to change her mind about the situation, however, as she watched Clark walk towards her. A blind woman would have noticed the pretty blonde's interest and speculation as she gazed at Clark – she had a look on her face as if she'd just been told that Christmas was coming early this year. Biting back a frown as she slung her bag over her shoulder, Lois strode up and said confidently, "Ms. Gibson? I want to thank you for taking the time to meet with us. I'm Lois Lane-Kent, and this is my partner, Clark Kent."
Lois watched as Eleanor's eyes flickered to Clark's ring finger and noticed the lack of a band. "Nice to meet you. That's a pretty big coincidence, isn't it? That the two of you have the same last name, I mean." Though she was smiling, it was clear she was fishing for information.
Lois's smile was a fraction too wide as she responded, "Not much of a coincidence at all, really." Her eyes narrowed as she took in Eleanor's reaction, and it was a good thing that the speculative look morphed into palpable disappointment. If it hadn't, Lois might have failed to suppress the urge to smack the interest right off her beautiful face. Lois normally wasn't so territorial; she knew other women noticed Clark's good looks, and it usually didn't bother her. After all, she knew more than anyone how much her husband warranted a second look, and she also knew Clark only had eyes for her. Still, she was beginning to wonder if there was a single person on the planet who wasn't fantasizing about getting their hands on her husband.
She didn't have long to fume, however. The three of them had just settled in for the interview when Clark got that far-off look in his eye that Lois recognized only too well. Before he could scramble to find some halfway plausible excuse for his inevitable disappearance, she jumped in to rescue him. Left to his own devices, Lois knew from personal experience that he was far too likely to come up with some lame excuse – like a sudden irrepressible need to salvage perishable dairy products.
Hoping Ms. Gibson hadn't noticed her getting out of the cab earlier, she said, "Um….Clark, honey? You know, I think I forgot to put change in the parking meter. Would you mind running out to check? I'd hate for us to get a ticket." She smiled in response to his grateful look and then waited until he'd left to turn her attention back on her companion. Eleanor looked distinctly displeased to be left with only her company. Throwing her a sheepish smile, Lois asked, "Don't you just hate it when you do something stupid like that?" Actually, Lois hated having to pretend to have done such a harebrained thing, but she consoled herself that it was for the greater good.
With a slight disdainful sniff, Eleanor replied, "I wouldn't know. I don't usually forget things. It must be terribly inconvenient for you that you do."
Okay, that was it. Clark had better return soon, Lois resolved, because she was about to wipe the floor with pretty Ms. Gibson.
Thankfully, Clark did manage to return before Lois gave in to the temptation to do anything that would result in her being brought up on charges, and the interview went, if not smoothly, then as well as could be expected. As anticipated, Eleanor had been reluctant to divulge any information to the reporters, but, thanks to a little Super help, Lois and Clark managed to leave with one of her boss's notebooks in their custody. With any luck, it would contain some incriminating evidence.
Unfortunately, the notebook was written in a scribbled shorthand that didn't make any sense, so the two of them spent a good portion of the rest of the afternoon trying to crack the code. After many tedious hours, they still hadn't managed to make much progress, but it was getting late, so they decided to take the notebook home and continue the work after dinner.
Feeling slightly drained but exuberant to be so close to solving the mystery, Lois accompanied Clark back to their apartment. She was fairly itching to get back to the puzzle, but it was Friday night and, thus, date night. Since before they'd gotten married, she and Clark had reserved Friday nights to spend together in whatever way they saw fit. The only rule was that work was not allowed to interfere; it was a ritual Lois had eagerly anticipated every week since its inception, and that excitement hadn't diminished just because they had exchanged vows. In fact, since they had only been married a month, they were still indulging in their post-honeymoon euphoric period and so they were both reluctant to let anything get in the way of any private time they could grab together.
So, once they had changed out of their work clothes, she and Clark headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Lois's cooking hadn't much improved in the past ten years or so, but she always tried, at least, to contribute to the process of preparing their meals. It had to be said that Clark was kind enough to always choke down a little of everything she made, even when it had been subject to some sort of disaster. That night in particular, however, they had decided on spaghetti, and even Lois could manage to boil water without incident. So, with much teasing on either side, they negotiated the confines of the tiny kitchen as they cooked together.
The mood stayed lighthearted, in fact, until shortly after they sat down to eat. It was only then that Clark cleared his throat and asked, "So, Lois…when are you going to tell me what's been bothering you today?"
Pausing with her fork halfway to her mouth, she gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?"
"You've been…I don't know…you've seemed distracted today. Like something's irritating you. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I thought maybe there was something wrong."
A slight frown furled her brow as Lois laid down her fork and put her hands in her lap. She tried to think of what to tell him; she should have known he'd have picked up on her emotions, but she was still reluctant to talk to him about her reaction to the tabloid. It was just such a stupid little thing, and she was ashamed to admit that it was even bothering her. Particularly since she'd decided that Perry was probably right; it really was highly unlikely that anybody would really believe that piece of garbage. Still, even thinking about it caused her to tense up, and she had to force her hands to unclench from the fists they had unconsciously formed in her lap.
Clearing her throat, she said softly, "It's nothing, really. I've just been…Oh, no. What is it now?" She couldn't quite keep the frustration out of her voice as she asked this. There it was again. That Look.
Regretfully, Clark replied, "I'm sorry, Lois. There's a fire alarm going off nearby. I have to go see if anybody needs any help. Look, can we talk about this when I get back? It's not that I –"
"No, no. I understand. You have to do what you have to do. Go on; I'll be here when you get back." Lois reassured him, but she sighed as she watched him speed into his Superman outfit and fly out the window. It seemed that, yet again, she would be eating dinner alone.
Clark wasn't back before she finished her meal, and Lois tried not to feel too disappointed. It really wasn't his fault that date night was ruined. He'd had to go to offer whatever help he could; of course he did, and Lois understood that. She even loved him for it. And it wasn't like he could ask the world to take care of itself from eight to midnight on Friday nights. Most of the calls of help he responded to were due to a life-and-death situation, and how could Lois selfishly ask him to ignore even one of them, to let someone die, just so she could spend time with him? How could she get mad at him for being unable to do so?
But, still, as she put his plate in the microwave to be reheated upon his return, Lois knew that the small, selfish part of her wished she didn't always have to fly off. It wasn't that she wanted someone to die. She just wanted her husband's company. Perhaps luckily, it seemed she would have plenty of time to get her wayward emotions under control before he returned. Of all the admissions she'd do anything to keep to herself, this particular one was probably the worst. There was no way she could admit to him that she sometimes wished he didn't always have to leave her.
In an attempt to put these terrible thoughts out of her mind, Lois curled up on one of the seats in the living room and pulled the doctor's notebook out of her bag. Date night clearly wasn't going to be salvageable; she might as well try to get some work done. After what seemed like hours of staring at the incomprehensible scribbles, she must have drifted off to sleep because she didn't register Clark's return. However, her eyes fluttered open when she felt him scoop her into his arms to carry her into the bedroom.
"Clark? I was…waiting up for you," she murmured around a wide yawn.
With a grin, he replied, "I can see that."
He put her gently upon the bed, and she reached for her pajamas as she said, "I put your dinner in the microwave. Do you want me to heat it up for you?"
"No, it's okay. I'm actually not very hungry." He started to change into his nightclothes, but he paused and looked at her for a long moment. "Lois, I'm really sorry I ruined our night together. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
He looked so apologetic, she couldn't have been mad at him if she wanted to be. "Don't worry about it. I understand. Did everything go okay?"
"About three buildings were destroyed the fire, but luckily nobody was hurt. Did you get anywhere with the notebook tonight?" As he spoke, Clark crawled into bed next to her and wrapped his arms her as she pulled the blankets over the two of them.
Around another yawn, Lois replied, "Yes. I've decided Dr. Kellerman is a paranoid crackpot who should have made our lives easier by writing in plain English. His stupid code is giving me a headache."
Clark chuckled in her ear. "Don't worry about it. We'll work on it more tomorrow. We'll get it figured out."
"Mmmm…" she moaned in agreement as she snuggled close to him. "Night, Clark. Love you."
As she drifted off to sleep, she heard him reply, "I love you too, Lois."
A few hours later, Lois murmured her husband's name into the darkness as she reached for him. When she felt nothing but air, however, she rolled over with a groan and glared at the bedside clock. 4:30 in the morning; he was no doubt flying around answering cries for help. Again. Wishing she could just roll over and go back to sleep, she sighed and readjusted her position so she would be more comfortable as she stared up through the darkness towards the ceiling. It didn't matter how much she wanted to go back to sleep; she knew from experience that she wouldn't be able to do so until he returned home.
She didn't have long to wait before she heard the soft sound of Clark's footsteps on the floorboards outside their bedroom door. Rolling back on her side, she closed her eyes tight and slowed her breathing, feigning sleep. Lois always did this when she woke up in the middle of the night to find him gone. She didn't want him to feel bad, knowing she'd lain awake in anticipation of his return. While she was aware that he had to know she was only pretending, he never called her on her act.
Holding her breath, she waited to see what he'd do when he climbed into bed with her. Since finding out his secret, she had come to realize that Superman's evenings tended to fall into three categories, and Lois could tell just what kind of night it had been simply by the way Clark got back into bed.
Some evenings, he would return to the apartment, wrap his arms around her to pull her close, and fall quickly to sleep. When he did that, she knew the call had not been for a major emergency, and everything was fine. If he returned and lay in silence for a while before finally pulling her into his arms and drifting off to sleep, she knew things had not gone quite so easily for him, and he was going over the events in his mind as he tried to decide what he would do differently the next time.
There were rare nights, however, when he would return to bed and turn away from her, refusing the comfort of her touch. Those nights were another matter entirely. On those evenings, Lois never went back to sleep. She would lay there in silence and try to reach out to the man in bed beside her. She would keep on reaching, however, because even though he was right beside her, on those nights, he wasn't really there at all.
She never felt quite as useless as she did when this Clark returned to her. As he did now. He wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't tell her what was the matter. But neither would he allow her to hold him; in fact, he flinched away from her touch as if it hurt him to receive the comfort she offered.
"Clark?" Lois whispered as she tried to move closer to him, but, just as she knew he would, he pulled away from her. "Honey, what happened?"
After a moment's silence, he responded dully, "Nothing, Lois. Go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you."
Raising up on one arm, she bit her lower lip as she reached out to rest her palm on his shoulder, but as soon as she touched him, he jerked away from her and sat up. "Clark, I wish you'd – " she began, but he clearly wasn't listening to her.
"You know, I'm not really tired. I'm going to sit up for a while. Why don't you go back to sleep?" Then, without even looking at her, he left the room.
Lois hated nights like this. She hated that she felt useless in these situations. She hated that he was obviously hurting but wouldn't let her in. She hated that she couldn't take his pain away.
She lay in bed for a while, trying to decide what to do next. Should she follow him into the other room and press him for information, or should she leave it alone and hope he opened up to her in his own time? She'd seen him closed off like this before, but this seemed somehow worse.
Well, whatever it was she was going to do wasn't going to be from bed. Slowly, she got up and, after a moment wasted in indecision, she strode into the living room.
Clark was standing by the patio door, gazing out upon the city lights. He didn't turn when she walked up behind him; in fact, he gave absolutely no indication that he'd registered her presence at all.
"Clark?" When she said his name, her voice was soft, almost uncertain.
He didn't turn to her as he replied, "I'm fine, Lois. I just…I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?"
Lois sighed. "Okay. Just…I'm here for you, okay? If you decide you want to talk about it."
The next couple of hours were spent in a tense silence as Lois tried hard not to push for answers. She'd hoped he would open up to her, given time, but if his attitude was any indication, he had no intention of ever telling her what was wrong. Finally, she couldn't take it any longer. Slamming her mug down on the table hard enough for the coffee to slosh over the sides, she declared, "That's it, Clark. I can't do this any longer."
His face was impassive as he muttered softly, "Well, that took longer than I thought it would."
She watched as he stood and walked away from her, but she was resolved not to let him off so easily. She could ignore the issue, hope he eventually opened up to her. Hope his problem went away. But she was never good at knowing when to stop pushing, and, at any rate, she doubted that this would have been the right time. So, taking a few deep breaths, she slowly counted down from five as she tried to think of the best way to approach the subject. She wanted answers, but she had to be careful how she went about it. If she was too argumentative and put him on the defensive, they'd never get anywhere.
5. "Damn it, Clark! Talk to me!" On second thought, that was probably not the most tactful way to go about it.
4. "So, you're just going to keep this to yourself forever, is that it?" No, as much as she excelled at the occasional sarcastic barb, now was definitely not the time.
3. "Clark, I hate it when you won't let me help you. You really need to talk to me." She was having better luck finding a reasonable tone, but that still wasn't quite right.
2. "I know something's the matter. I wish you'd tell me what it is." Lois sighed and rose to her feet. She walked up behind Clark and tentatively put out a hand to rest it on his shoulder.
1.
"Please don't shut me out," she said softly.
She felt him tense, and shifted uncomfortably under her touch. She gently turned him around to face her, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. "I told you, Lois. It's nothing," he said softly when she gazed searchingly into his face.
A long silence stretched between them until he met her gaze, and then she said, "Clark, I know something's bothering you. I wish you'd tell me what it is." He still didn't respond, so, taking a deep breath, she tried again. "I know you're used to having to deal with your own problems. I know you feel like you're alone, like you have to protect everyone around you. Including me. But you're not alone anymore. You have me, and I love you. If there's something wrong, then you really need to talk to me."
He sighed and reached up to run his fingers through his hair. Finally, he said, "Lois, I appreciate your concern, but I really don't want to talk about this."
"Well, maybe you need to," she replied.
"Or maybe I know what I'm doing, and I need for both of us to forget about it," he contradicted, sounding a bit irritated with her.
"So you're just going to keep this to yourself forever, is that it?" she demanded. She was trying to be understanding, but his constant refusal to talk to her was making her lose what little grasp on her temper she'd managed to retain.
Clark sighed and said through gritted teeth, "I'm not keeping anything from you, Lois. I'm just not in the mood to talk."
"You're brooding again, and you know that drives me crazy," she contradicted.
"If it bothers you so much, why don't you go back to bed?" he demanded in return.
Lois would have taken a moment to wave goodbye to the vestiges of her temper, but she was too busy losing it. "Damn it, Clark! Talk to me!"
Breaking out of her grip, he said fiercely, "It doesn't concern you, Lois! Leave it alone!"
"If it concerns you, it concerns me," she contradicted in the same tone.
"I don't want to share this with you, okay? And you don't really want to know about it, so why don't we just leave it alone? For once, can't you just walk away from something?"
Setting her jaw, Lois nodded. "Yes, of course I can. Just not you. Not when it's so obvious that you need to talk."
Clark began to pace back and forth as he demanded, "And you always know what's best, is that it? Because there's absolutely no way you could be wrong about something."
"Clark, I'm not wrong about this. Whatever happened, I can tell that it's eating you up inside. I want to help you, if you'll let me."
He stopped and stared at her for a long moment, but his voice was soft when he replied, "You can't help me, Lois."
"How do you know that, Clark, unless you talk to me?" she asked. "I love you. I know that whatever happened, it had to have been terrible. I know you're only trying to protect me. But you can't do that. If there's something bothering you then we need to talk about it."
"So you always talk about everything, is that it? Because it seems to me like something's been bothering you for a while now, and you haven't exactly been forthcoming."
"It's not exactly the same thing," she told him as she shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his regard.
Giving her a sardonic look, he asked, "Oh, yeah? And how is it different, exactly?" She started to try to make excuses, but he cut her off. "'If it's important enough that it bothers you, it's important enough for me to know about it.' Isn't that what you always say? But clearly you don't have any problem making a distinction between what I need to know and what I don't, and I'm just asking you to suspend the belief that I am capable of making that same judgment call."
Lois scowled. This was absurd. There was no way that the slight difficulties she was having in adjusting to married life with Superman were even on the same scale as whatever it was that he was that was tearing him up inside. Plus, any admissions she made about her feelings were bound to cost her a significant amount of dignity. Not to mention, she really didn't want him to think that she wished she could change things between them, or that she felt incapable of rising to the challenges that had arisen.
She had promised him that she could handle his other life, and she didn't want to make him think she'd been wrong.
But, as she met his eyes, she winced, realizing he had a point. The things bothering her clearly weren't going to go away. In fact, the situation only seemed to grow worse as each day passed. What had once only been a minor irritant – having to hide her feelings for Superman and deny any urge to come to his defense when it came to things she shouldn't know about the man in blue – had now escalated to the point where she could have accidentally blown Clark's secret to Perry over a stupid tabloid report. She could hardly tell him he had to discuss his problems while she kept hers to herself. It was a double standard, and if there was one thing she refused to be, it was a hypocrite. Though she sometimes wished she didn't have such high standards for herself.
With a groan, Lois swallowed her pride, threw her dignity away with both hands, and admitted, "Okay. You're right. There is something that's bothering me. It's been bothering me since we got back from our honeymoon. Well, okay, actually since before then. I guess it's been building since I found out about your secret, in fact, and I was too embarrassed to tell you about it."
He looked at her expectantly, but she could see the beginnings of a worried frown cross his face. Well, she had to admit that she had just given him a pretty vague lead-in into the topic, and his mind was no doubt moments away from jumping to the worst conclusions. She wanted to rush to reassure him that it wasn't as bad as he thought, but she didn't really know how to continue her confession. Especially since she knew that, in the grander scheme of things, her problems were minor, comparatively speaking. At a loss for what to say next, she bit her lower lip, her gaze not meeting his. Then, taking a deep breath, Lois stepped closer to Clark and reached out to run her fingers along the length of the chain around his neck until she came to the circular object that dangled over his heart. "I wish you could wear your wedding band," she murmured softly as she traced the curve of the ring with her fingertips.
She could tell that Clark was surprised by her admission as a long silence stretched between them. Finally, he covered her hand with his own, he and said in slight confusion and soft regret, "You know I can't risk it, Lois. What if I forget to take it off again and someone notices that Superman is wearing a wedding ring? It could lead to too many questions, and I just can't afford to take the chance of accidentally exposing my relationship with you. Do you know how many people out there would love to get their hands on Superman's wife?"
With a small sigh and an accompanying shrug, she replied, "I know. That doesn't mean I don't hate it that you can't."
"It's always right here, Lois. Always by my heart. I never take it off, and I never will." He moved to bring her closer, but she pulled away from him.
"It's just…I hate this, Clark. I haven't known about your secret for too long, and I've been married to you for even less time, and there's already so many things that I'm don't know how to deal with. I hate passing supermarket tabloids and seeing the lies they make up about you, and I especially hate that I can't even defend you against the attacks on the off chance that someone puts two and two together! I thought I could handle it; that as long as I these things didn't bother you, I could refrain from always rushing to your defense. But I don't know how I can really do that. I'm not exactly the best at keeping my opinions to myself, and you aren't just some random friend of mine! You're my husband, and I want…I don't know…I just want things to be different, I suppose," she finished lamely.
With a sigh, Clark rested his hand on her shoulder as he responded, "I know this is hard for you, Lois, and I'm sorry that you have to deal with any of this. But there's not much I can do about it. Every once and a while, a tabloid will decide to do a story and the rumors will start. But they do pass as soon as a more interesting story comes along. I know you want me to come out and publicly refute the tabloid reports, but I can't afford to open the door to Superman's personal life. I can't risk people even thinking that Superman has a personal life."
"And I understand that, Clark," she replied quickly. "I understand completely, in fact. I don't want our relationship to be spotlighted. I don't want to out you on national television. But, at the same time, you have to appreciate that it isn't easy for me to stand idly by while people say all sorts of terrible things about you. Just this morning, I read a story this tabloid printed about…about a love child some woman has supposedly hand with Superman, and I just…I lost it. I wanted to break out every gun in the Daily Planet's arsenal to bring both the tabloid and that woman down. Hell, I was willing to call in the Marines if that's what it would take to obliterate them for even having dared to print such garbage."
Gazing at her for a long moment, he finally asked, "You don't believe the stories, do you?"
Lois snorted. "I'll believe in the batboys living in the sewers before I believe that you'd do something like that. But you have to understand, it's hard for me to read stories like that when...um…" She broke off, her face flushing. Well, there was a confession she hadn't been planning to make. "It's not important. But, anyway –" She rushed to change the subject, turning away from him so he wouldn't see the look on her face.
It seemed he wasn't going to let her get away with it, however, as he grabbed her hand and tugged on it gently until she stopped to look at him again. Her eyes were burning, and she closed her eyes as she took a few deep breaths to try to remain calm. "Lois. Honey…what is it you were going to say?" he asked as he gently stroked her cheek.
Lois clamped her teeth down hard on the lower lip that had begun to tremble, but she knew he wasn't fooled by her indifferent façade. Her gaze meeting his again, she admitted, "I wanted to destroy that woman for claiming to have had a child with you when I know…I know that it's something I might not be able to do." The look of pain on his face at her confession mirrored her own, and she continued softly, "I know that you're right. We can't afford to do anything about the fact that there will always be stories about Superman. It's just that there are so many things that come with the territory that I just never anticipated. I never realized how many stories would be written about you, or how much speculation there would be about your personal life. I never realized how much they would hurt, or how many nights I'd spend alone."
Clark began, "Lois, I–"
Before he could apologize for something he couldn't help, Lois shook her head. There was no point in the two of them brooding over something neither of them could change. "No, sweetheart, I know. You hear every cry for help, and you can't ignore them any more than you could stop breathing. And I really do love you for it, and I'm proud of you for everything that you do. The problem is that I'm selfish, and I have to admit to the fact that I hate it that I always have to let you go. I'm trying to get over it. I am. I'll come to terms with all of these things eventually, but it's just not going to be as easy as I once hoped it would be."
Clark wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, but he didn't say anything. Really, what was there to say? After all, she was right. The situation wasn't going to change any time soon. Clark would always be Superman, and that meant that there were just things the two of them were going to have to come to terms with.
As the silence stretched between them, Lois pulled back slightly and looked up into Clark's face. "Please tell me what's been bothering you tonight, Clark." He looked ready to protest again, so she said, "Don't you see? You can't protect me, and I don't want you to. Even if you don't think there's any way I can help, I want to be here for you. And I can't do that if you won't talk to me."
So finally, though he released her and turned to stare out over the lights of the city once more, he finally told her what had been bothering him. "I couldn't sleep tonight," he confessed, "but I didn't want to disturb you, so I thought I'd go out flying for a while. I…I don't know how long I was out, but I was up pretty high, where it's a little bit more peaceful, and I don't have to hear everything around me. I suppose…I must have floated halfway around the world, and I wasn't…I was just flying. And then I heard someone crying. I don't know how I picked up on the sound; she was so quiet. Maybe it was because she was out in the middle of nowhere, and there weren't any major cities around to drown her out.
"Anyway, it was such a heartbreaking sound, I…I flew down to see what –" He broke off and took a ragged breath as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Lois wished she could take him into her arms, but she knew he wasn't ready to be comforted, at least not yet. He had to get the story out, but he had a tenuous hold on his composure, and she could tell he was trying very hard not to let that go. So, instead of doing all the things she wanted to do, she stepped forward until she was standing next to him, gazing out at the lights of the city by his side as she let his words wash over her.
Swallowing heavily, he continued, "It was a girl. She looked young, younger than she had to have been, at least. She was…she was holding this little bundle in her arms, and I thought it was just a balled up blanket at first. But then, when she looked up at me, I could see…it was a baby. I don't know how old. Maybe not even four months. She was beautiful, this perfect little baby the girl had in her arms. But then I realized she was dead."
For the first time since he'd begun his story, Clark turned to look at her. "I asked her what had happened, and she admitted that she did it. She killed her little girl." Lois hadn't been expecting that, and her surprise must have shown on her face, because he grimaced. "I was so angry when she told me what she'd done. I wanted…I wanted to kill her. I thought for a minute I might. But then she…" He paused again. "The girl told me she was dying. She'd just found out, earlier that day. She was sick, and she was going to die soon, and there wasn't anything anybody could do about it. Not me, not the doctors. Not anybody.
"She killed her baby because there wasn't anybody else to look after her daughter once she was dead. She didn't want her baby to be put in an orphanage, where she would starve to death or…or worse. She said she'd known so many children who had been taken away after their parents had died of sickness, and she said the stories always ended the same. And she couldn't let all of those terrible things happen to the baby she loved, so she took her to a nearby river and drowned her instead."
As he finished his story, Clark's eyes bored into hers. Very softly, he asked, "So, was it worth it, Lois? Are you happy I told you any of that? Is it a story you want to carry with you? Can you make me feel better?"
The stark pain on his face, the darkness behind his eyes as he recalled the story, tore at Lois's heart, and she shook her head slowly. Though he moved as if he were going to pull away from her, she wrapped her arms around him and held him in silence until some of his tension eased. "No, Clark. I can't make you feel better, and I can't take that memory away from you," she told him softly.
Lois tilted her head to stare out over the lights of the city as she felt her husband tremble in her arms. Hearing his story tonight had shamed her when she realized that her problems were petty by comparison. But they also reminded her why she loved this man so much. He tried so hard to be the world's savior, and he grieved for every person who slipped between his fingers. It didn't matter how many people he rescued; he never forgot the people he couldn't, and Lois knew their memories haunted him.
Today, and for many other days since she had learned Clark's secret, she had felt the burden of keeping Superman's secret. She loved him, but she had to keep him at a distance – at least publicly. At times, this made her feel like a small and rather insignificant part of that aspect of his life. Tonight, however, she was reminded that all of the sacrifices she made to be with him were for a reason. Whether or not the world saw him for the incredible man he was, she did, and that's what was important. And, as much as she sometimes couldn't believe that someone like Clark could need someone as relatively inconsequential as Lois Lane, the fact of the matter was, tonight, he did. He needed her, and she would gladly sacrifice anything in the world if it meant she could be there for him at the end of the day.
Pulling away from him only so far that she could look into his face, she said softly, "I can't take away your pain. I can only share it and hope that's enough."