Don't let them in, don't let them see

Be the good girl you always have to be

Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know...

—Demi Lovato, "Let It Go"

Getting back into the swing of things at The Daily Planet was next to impossible for Lois. The building still stood, thank God, but most of the windows had been blown out, allowing debris into the offices and appliances. The paper would be confined to online distribution until the office was back in order.

In the two weeks since the battle, Lois hadn't been idle. The numbness that had settled over her after Clark left her on the fire escape wore off quickly. Her emotions ran high. More than once she, who'd been embedded with the First Division in Baghdad for six months and had seen men blown to bits, was reduced to tears at the sight of ordinary men and women rebuilding their lives from the ground up.

She completely lost it, though, when she saw the battered bodies of little children being gently removed from a crushed daycare. She had to leave the scene, not wanting anyone to see her cry.

She manipulated her assignments so she could pass by wherever Kal-El was. He only spent half-days in the city now; he told some reporter-who wasn't from the Planet, much to Lois' chagrin-that he was helping other needy friends the rest of the time. Everyone assumed that meant he was in Smallville, the town where Zod and some of his people had, "for some reason," landed in the pre-battle hours.

But Kal-El was never seen there in his Kryptonian regalia, which made some people scratch their heads. Lois, who knew better, kept her mouth shut.

If he saw her in Metropolis, it was only from a distance. Whenever they made eye contact, he always sent a courteous nod her way. That was all. Lois understood. No need to attract attention to themselves or to their relationship.

Still, she thought about him constantly. She wasn't really daydreaming about Superman, either. Lois caught herself thinking more about the grieving young man in an old Kansas cemetery. Clark Kent. He was the one who fascinated her with his intelligence, his childlike need for friendship, his silent courage, his selflessness.

How come she hadn't known anybody like that before now?

Perry called her into his office one morning, holding a couple sheets of stapled paper against his chest. Lois shut the door behind him and planted herself in front of his desk, trying to think of what she could've done that deserved a reprimand.

"Now look," he began, fixing her with his steel-grey eyes, "I figured it would be easier for me to break this to you, rather than for you to be bombarded with questions from other reporters-"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

Perry held out the paper to her. It was an article printed from The Spectator, Glen Woodburn's site. The headline, though . . . Lois snatched it from him and skimmed it in growing fury-and panic.

It was overblown. Sensational. Written by Woodburn himself, of course, and all about the true nature of Superman's close working relationship with Lois Lane during the battle of Metropolis. Because there was at least one incident-according to an anonymous witness-proving it wasn't mere friendship, just before General Zod reappeared for the final, decisive conflict.

Lois looked at Perry with an expression that could've curdled milk.

"Who blabbed?"

"Not me," Perry said, holding up his hands.

Lois slammed the article onto the table and marched towards the door.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Perry said, half-standing. "Come back here!"

"Lombard and Jenny were the only ones who saw me and Kal-El in that moment-besides you," Lois snapped. "Jenny wouldn't tell, but I'll bet your bottom dollar Lombard would!"

"Even if he did, that's no reason for you to fly off the handle. Sit down."

Lois obeyed-reluctantly. Her face was red. This was exactly what she'd feared, that someone would spread the word that Superman and Miss Lane were seen kissing. She wanted to get her hands around the neck of whoever had spilled the beans-and to a creep like Woodburn, no less.

"There were other people climbing out of the rubble, just like we were," Perry said quietly. "It could've been anybody, but I don't think it was Lombard. You weren't here at the office when Woodburn threw you under the bus on national television, remember? We were all infuriated-even Lombard. He wouldn't throw you to the wolves."

Lois crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing, just fumed.

"Besides, it's your own fault," Perry said, sitting back. "You shouldn't have gone to him with your alien story in the first place."

Lois allowed herself a smirk. "Don't think I haven't learned my lesson."

"You'd better think of a response before you get bombarded with questions about it," he said. "Will you confirm, or deny?"

"I'll say 'no comment,' " Lois said with a feisty toss of her head.

Perry snorted. "That won't satisfy people like Woodburn."

"They'll find out I can dig in my heels deeper than anybody. Ask General Swanwick."

Now Perry laughed. "Have you heard from him?"

"I heard from his aide, Captain Harris," Lois said. "She said the general wanted to know if I was doing all right after . . . well, after everything that happened aboard the plane. It was a nice gesture. I shouldn't wonder if he feels bad about trying to intimidate me into a confession at the air force base."

"Well, I could've told him how mule-headed you can be." Perry waved his hand towards the door. "All right, Lane, you can go. And look, try to keep a cool head over this whole Spectator article. If you don't, people like Woodburn will pounce on you. Take that from a veteran reporter who's seen it happen."

Lois, standing at the door again by now, nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem," Perry said, fitting his glasses on the bridge of his nose again.

Closing the door behind her, Lois glimpsed Steve Lombard on the other side of the bull-pen. They'd butted heads over the years, nursing a rivalry that hovered somewhere between friendly and contentious-but Perry's confidence in his integrity soothed Lois' suspicions.

How she'd deal with the possibility of intense scrutiny would be a trickier problem.

Her mother had returned to the States a few days ago. After work, Lois headed to the Freeman Tower, the tallest skyscraper that had survived the battle, and took the elevator up to Annie Sarkowski's penthouse. She stood in front of the closed door in a luxuriously-carpeted hallway and took a deep breath.

Come on, Lois, keep it together, it's not like you're walking back onto Zod's ship.

For a moment Lois thought she'd rather be on the Black Zero than here. She'd never been at ease around her mother. Her earliest memory was of her parents fighting-or rather, of Mom shouting at Dad while he took the lashing in silence. General Lane had been one of the most respected men in the United States army, but in his own home he was ridiculed by a wife who hated the constant moves and his frequent absences.

After the highly-publicized divorce, her mother led a separate life in a world of glitzy parties and politics and rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. She wouldn't have had all her connections, of course, if she hadn't been General Lane's wife once upon a time, but Annie capitalized on them and her own interests in arts and culture to fashion a new life for herself.

Lois hated it-not Annie's genuine interests, which were brilliant in themselves, but her callous attitude towards the divorce and Dad's regret over the way things had turned out. Small wonder that Lois, a teenager by that time, resolved to be independent and defy her mother's expectations by pursuing a career in journalism.

With all that in the back of her mind, Lois rapped smartly on the door. It opened quickly and she found herself face to face with her mother.

Annie Sarkowski, a small woman of strong, attractive features, smiled at her. "Lois! I's good to see you. Come on inside, don't hang back like you're a stranger."

She reached out and grabbed Lois' arm, pulling her inside and shutting the door behind her. Lois tried to smother the all-too-familiar panic that came with being trapped.

"Thanks for asking me to drop by," she said, forcing a smile. "How was the flight back from Paris?"

"Dreadful," Annie said, putting a hand to her temple as she passed Lois. "I was supposed to come home last Saturday, of course. Well, there was no catching a flights or even a cruise back, what with the Metropolis airport and harbor still closed. I almost had to wring a few necks just to get a flight into Gotham. From there I made use of the taxis-and that was no small feat, let me tell you!"

Lois felt sorry for the poor cabmen who had to drive Annie all the way from Gotham. She glanced around the well-furnished apartment full of art deco paintings. "Well, thankfully the penthouse wasn't damaged."

"Yes, no thanks to your new friend Superman," Annie said with a snort. "Don't worry, I've been keeping up with all the news. From what I hear, he smashed through nearly every building downtown. Have a seat-oh, and don't mind all the suitcases, I haven't finished unpacking."

Lois sat down on her mother's low sofa and clasped her hands on her knees. Annie sat down across from her in a deep, cushioned chair, crossing her sculpted legs and fixing her piercing blue eyes on her daughter.

"So start telling," Annie commanded sharply. Now this was the mother Lois knew: haughty, demanding, bitingly sarcastic. "I didn't know you were even friends with this alien fellow until I heard you'd been arrested."

Remembering Perry's admonition to keep a cool head, Lois told the story as best as she could. She reminded her mother-because Annie had, of course, forgotten-about her adventures on Ellesmere Island back in December, but left out her long search for Clark and merely said she'd ended up finding out who he really was.

Annie sat back, lifted her eyebrows. "Well? Who is he?"

Lois shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mom. I can't tell you, not in good conscience. I promised him I'd keep his identity secret."

"And I suppose that's why you were arrested after this General Zod announced he wanted his countryman back," Annie said dryly. "People knew you'd been tracking this fellow, so the FBI nabbed you and tried to make you give up the information."

"Right."

"Well, you really should've contacted my friend Senator McCallister as soon as the alien ship showed up. He has contacts in the FBI, you know. They could've located this Superman and Metropolis would've been spared such devastation. How could you have stayed silent, Lois?"

"I had a moral obligation-"

"Nonsense! The fate of the world was at stake and you were worried about your honor?"

Lois bit the side of her mouth and looked away. Her mother didn't understand the meaning of honor. She certainly didn't know how it felt to risk everything, even your life, for someone else.

"Unless," Annie added slowly, "it wasn't simply your honor you were thinking about."

She leaned forward and took up her iPad, lying on the coffee table. Lois' heart jumped into her throat when her mother handed her the device. The screen showed the Spectator website, and there was Woodburn's article, with all its breathless, maddening questions about a star-crossed romance.

Darn it, darn it, darn it . . .

"How do you explain that?" Annie demanded. "Do you realize I've gotten half a dozen phone calls today asking if my daughter is really carrying on a romance with this-this-"

"Hero?" Lois offered sharply.

Annie's eyes flashed. "He's an alien, Lois, he's not even part of this world."

At that, Lois slammed the iPad down on the coffee table much harder than she intended. "He's as much a part of this world as we are. He was raised here, this is home to him. He wants nothing more than to be accepted for who he is and to use his gifts to help the world. The only reason he kept himself a secret for so long was because he was terrified people like you would reject him in your own close-minded fear and arrogance!"

"Fine," Annie said, throwing up her hands. "I'm sorry he's had a rough life. We've all had our trials. But as your mother, I'll tell you I still think he's dangerous and you're playing with fire."

Lois hesitated, detecting real concern in her mother's voice, and tried to soften her tone. "He saved my life three times, Mom. I really don't think I have anything to fear. He's kind, he's thoughtful, he's-"

"He's an a-li-en," Annie repeated, drawing out the word for emphasis. "And I don't approve of my daughter running around with aliens. Do I make myself clear?"

"Mom! I'm twenty-nine years old. You're acting like I'm six!"

Annie held the iPad up towards her. "Did he really kiss you?"

Lois clenched her hands. "We thought every minute of that day that one of us was going to die. He nearly died on Zod's ship-he couldn't handle the atmosphere inside and started throwing up blood. It was horrible. I almost died in a damaged ship. The world engine in the Indian Ocean tried to kill him, and then I fell out of a military plane. What did you expect us to do when we found ourselves safe and thought the battle was over? Shake hands and walk away?"

"Are you carrying on a romance now?" Annie asked icily.

Lois drew a shaky breath. "No. I haven't talked with him since the battle."

"Can you promise me you never will?"

Lois hesitated. She didn't particularly want to lie. Honesty and openness were tools of her trade. But she couldn't give her mother a piecrust promise, either . . .

"Don't worry, Mom," she said slowly, quietly, choosing her words with great care. "I'll never be Superman's steady girlfriend."

But I'd be Clark Kent's in a heartbeat, she thought fiercely.The silent distinction eased her conscience.

Annie sat back, satisfied. "I understand this Superman is still helping clean up Metropolis. That's very nice of him, the least he could do after what happened. But I don't want to hear anything more about this relationship and I want you to put it out of your head. It makes my life difficult and I'm sure you'll be pestered about it for a while. You don't need that in your life, Lois, not if you're going to focus on your career."

Since when did you care about my writing, except where a Pulitzer Prize was concerned? Lois thought bitterly. She nodded, turned away from her mother.

"I've got to go," she said, running a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry if my adventures have embarrassed you."

"I'm sorry, too," Annie said.

Lois flinched, as if the words were a whiplash.

"Otherwise, though, I did hear you conducted yourself well," Annie added, as if regretting her previous words. "Every report says you were courageous, and I'm proud of that."

"Thanks," Lois murmured, opening the door.

"And if you get a chance, thank Superman for me for saving your life-and the world, too, I suppose," Annie said, picking a fingernail now and not even looking at Lois. "If we're stuck with him we might as well give credit where credit is due."

"Yes, Mom," Lois said. "I'll see you later."

"Take care," Annie replied breezily.

Lois walked with long, angry strides away from her mother's apartment. Only when she was in the elevator did she slump against the wall and release a long, tired breath. An aching loneliness for her father seized her. He would've understood. If he was still alive and had been in General Swanwick's place . . .

But there was no point in thinking like that. Besides, there were so many other things filling her heart and mind now, the idea of Annie Sarkowski reducing her to a trembling sad-sack filled her with indignation. Clark Kent would not be intimidated into moping. Neither would she.

The elevator opened. Lois straightened, composed herself to look like the smart, determined young reporter she was, and marched out into the busy, construction-filled street.

She was sitting on her own bed that evening, typing up tomorrow's article, when her phone rang. Lois picked it up and glanced at the screen. The displayed number was unfamiliar for only a moment; then she recognized it.

"Oh my gosh," she gasped, quickly picking up. "Hello?"

There was a hesitant silence, then a quiet, "Lois?"

She put her hand to her mouth. "Clark?"

"Hey there."

Lois couldn't sit still; she jumped out of bed and started pacing the length of the room. "Hey there! I didn't think I'd hear from you so soon. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Where are you?"

"Home."

Home. Kansas. Lois understood his caution and reined herself in. "That's good, that's really good . . . and you're sure you're all right?"

"I'm sure," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "You sound as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof. It's just me, for Heaven's sake."

"Just me." As if he was "just anybody." Lois plopped down in a chair and put her forehead in her hand. "I'm sorry, you just took me by surprise. Why are you calling? You said we weren't supposed to unless there was an emergency . . ."

"I know, but I didn't want you to think I'd forgotten about you." She heard, faintly, the creak of a porch swing on the other end. "I also wanted to let you know that I've been thinking about what I'll do once things are . . . you know, settled."

"Really?" Lois asked, not sure what else to say.

"Yeah . . . I can't just sit around and do nothing, now that I know what I can do."

"No, of course not."

"I might be spending more time up your way. Looking normal, I mean. Being normal."

Being Clark Kent. Lois' breath caught in her throat. "Why-why here?"

"You have any other suggestions?" he asked, and with a hint of his dry humor.

"No, not particularly," she said, allowing herself a laugh. "Well, when do you think you'll be moving in that direction?"

"After Christmas, I'd think. The dust needs to settle. I need enough time to where I won't be recognized right off the bat."

"I understand." Lois leaned forward on her knees. "Well, whenever that happens, you can be sure you've got a friend here."

She heard him chuckle-not the real laugh she really wanted to hear, but it was something. "I appreciate it. Though I'm afraid your friendship with me is starting to cause you some trouble."

"Oh, you're talking about Woodburn's article?" Lois said, injecting cheery defiance into her voice. She refused to let him worry about her. "Never mind that, Clark. If he so much as shows his face to me, I'll skin him alive for that piece."

"I believe you," Clark said, sounding very amused now. "I don't ever want to be on the receiving end of your fury, that's for sure."

Lois smiled; she saw herself in her mirror and realized she was all flushed and giddy-looking. She cleared her throat. "Look, um, since phone calls are so tricky, would you rather try email?"

She heard, on the other end, a woman's distant voice. The words were indistinguishable. Clark responded to it with a quiet, "All right, Mom," before addressing Lois again.

"I think that's a great idea, only I'd recommend you make another account separate from the one you already use. I reckon you use email a lot in your job."

"I do," she said. "I probably don't want your letters mixed up in my work mail. You have texting on your phone?"

"Yeah . . ."

"After we get off, text me your email address. I'll write you first, from my new address."

"Sounds good." He paused a moment. "I've only been home from for about an hour and my mom's fixed me some supper. I should probably go."

"Okay," Lois said softly. "Is it bad in Smallville?"

"Not as bad as Metropolis. Only ten people were killed, if you can believe it."

"Well, thank God."

"Exactly. It was good to talk to you, Lois."

"The feeling's mutual," Lois murmured. "I'll write first, remember. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

As always, thanks so much for the positive reviews! In response to Mrs. Noerhman's question: no, at this point my Clark has never been in a physical relationship with a woman. I agree with what you said about how that would be pretty irresponsible considering he didn't know who or what he was; plus, I reckon Jonathan and Martha instilled conservative values/principles into him, so pre-marital sex probably wouldn't be something he'd be engaged in. Also, if my memory serves me correctly, Henry Cavill himself suggested that Clark, concerned about his strength, would've avoided physical interactions/intimacy.

All that said, my first story features Lois and Clark's daughter, so obviously in my MoS-verse this concern doesn't last forever ;)