Hellooo, dear readers! I would've posted yesterday except that the last few chapters of this story all of a sudden clamored for a major revamp, so I've doing some important (and successful) editing over the past 24 hours. Hope everybody is still enjoying this. It's been a delightful experience for me but I must confess I didn't expect it to end up being so long! (Serves me right for tackling a romance that's been in existence for 76 years, haha.)

Clark made a brief stop at his mother's house a few evenings later. To his relief, she'd just gotten home from work and was bringing in some groceries. She shielded her eyes with her hand when she saw him descend a few yards from the pickup.

"And what do you think you're doing here at this time of day?" Martha called. "You should be at home with your wife."

Clark smiled. "I'm on my way home. Had an emergency to deal with in Seattle."

"Oh?" Martha asked, curious.

"It was all resolved," he replied, not really wanting to get into the details and, quite frankly, not having the time to do so. He reached for the Wal-Mart bags. "Let me help you get this inside."

"Uh-uh, not so fast." Martha held the groceries closer to her with a half-scolding, half-amused look. "There's something you want to tell me. I can tell just by looking at you. I can carry this just fine—it's only a half-gallon of milk and some bread—so you just follow and start talking."

Clark gave her a sheepish look. "I never could hide anything from you, could I?"

"Not a thing." She let him open the screen door for her. "Watch your cape when it slams, so you don't get it caught like you did last time."

Clark laughed and obeyed, stepping out of the doorway just in time. He watched Martha set the groceries on the counter and pull the elastic out of her greying hair. She looked tired, and yet somehow she managed to stay cheerful for him. He wondered if she was lonelier than she let on.

If she's all right with our plan, she won't be lonely for much longer.

"Mom, what would you say to Lois staying here for a while?" he asked quietly.

She stopped, looked at him in surprise. "Is she in trouble?"

Clark shook his head. "No, but I want to make sure she stays that way."

Martha raised her eyebrows expectantly. "What happened?"

At her question, he allowed a smile to cross his face; he reached forward, clasped her hand. "Mom . . . she's pregnant. She's going to have a baby—and it's mine."

Martha stared at him blankly for a moment, and then her eyes widened. She brought her hand to her mouth.

"Oh my God," she gasped, her eyes going to the ceiling in a reverent expression. "Oh, God, thank you . . ."

Clark squeezed her hand, unable to say anything. Martha shut her eyes, took a deep breath; when she opened her eyes again, they were filled with happy tears. She leaned forward and hugged him tightly.

"You'll be a wonderful father. I'm so happy for you . . ."

"Be happy for yourself," he whispered, kissing the side of her head. "You're going to be a grandmother."

She let out a little choking laugh and pulled back, briskly rubbing his arms. "I always hoped you could have this—both of you. Lois needs a baby."

Clark raised an eyebrow, trying not to think about the strange anxiety that had crept over Lois in the two days since she told him the news. "She 'needs' one?"

"Yes," Martha said with a firm nod of her head. "It'll be good for her. But let's get down to business, Clark . . . what was it you said about her staying here with me?"

Two months later

"You've been married for how long?!" Jenny Olsen hissed in the empty coffee room off the bull-pen. Her eyes were huge. Lois shot her a warning glare.

"Please, Jen, I told you to be quiet."

"I'm being quiet!" Jenny whispered. She glanced around, leaned closer. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Because we didn't want everyone sticking their nose in our business," Lois said, calmly pouring a cup of coffee, her fourth that day. "Can you imagine what Glen Woodburn would do if he got a hold of this? 'Star-crossed lovers divided by Midwestern farm-boy.' "

Jenny snorted.

"So anyway, that's why Clark and I haven't told anyone but Perry—and we're still not telling anyone else except for you and Steve." Lois set the coffee pot back in the machine. "In spite of the fact that Steve and I knock heads every once in a while, you two are probably my best friends here at work. We've been through a lot together. Clark and I figured it would be best if you two, at least, knew for now. He told Steve this afternoon over lunch."

Jenny smiled. "Well, I'm really happy for you both. I knew you two had a thing for each other, but I never would've thought you were married! He's not exactly Superman, but . . ."

Lois sipped her coffee to keep back an amused smile. "A girl can only hope for so much, huh?"

Jenny giggled. "No offense to Mr. Kent, of course. I guess Superman knows?"

"Yes, he knows."

"And he's okay with it?"

"Of course." Lois raised her eyebrows and launched into a falsehood of epic proportions. "There was never much between us. One kiss in the middle of a battlefield doesn't mean anything more was ever possible between him and me, okay? We're just friends—and he's very happy for me and for Clark."

Jenny nodded. "So . . . umm . . . when are you due?"

Lois choked on her coffee. Jenny scrambled to hand her a napkin. Lois coughed hard, and in doing so unconsciously held one hand to her stomach. She caught Jenny watching her and couldn't decide whether to laugh or be angry. At herself, of course—and as usual, she thought—not at Jenny.

"How did you know?" she whispered when she'd caught her breath.

Jenny flushed. "I started wondering a few weeks ago. You're eating a lot more at lunch than you used to, you're not drinking nearly as much coffee, you've practically changed your whole clothing style . . . and you were sick a lot in November. I wondered if you were pregnant, but I didn't dare ask. Now that I know you and Clark are together, it all makes sense."

Lois stared into her coffee. This hadn't been part of the script. It was true what she'd told Jenny, that she and Clark believed it would be best for Steve and Jenny to know they were married. When they finally made it public knowledge next summer, after the baby was born, it would be good to have friends who already knew.

But Lois hadn't planned on telling about the baby. The fact that Jenny had noticed made the gnawing anxiety she'd wrestled with for the past two months rear its ugly head again. Holding her coffee cup in one hand, she slowly ran her other hand over her stomach, outlining the round baby bump underneath her oversized, dark green sweater. Jenny watched, wide-eyed.

"Needless to say, we don't want the likes of Glen Woodburn finding out about this, either," Lois whispered. " 'Extra, extra, read all about it—paternity of Lois Lane's child in question—shocking implications if Superman is the father,' yadayadayada."

"I know," Jenny murmured. "That's really why you're going on hiatus, isn't it?"

Lois nodded, choosing her words carefully. "I'll be far away from Metropolis. Clark thought it would be the best and the easiest way for me. I won't have the deal with the paparazzi while every nerve is on edge."

Not to mention the fact that I've got to stay out of Lex Luthor's sight, but I can't tell her that.

"In spite of all that, you must be so happy." Jenny laid a hand on her shoulder. "Both of you."

Lois hesitated. Suddenly she did want to tell everything just so she could cry on her friend's shoulder. Even Clark couldn't possibly understand all the emotions that tormented her these days. She couldn't decide whether she loved the baby or resented it for all the trouble it had caused her.

Still, something held her back even now, and so she merely smiled in agreement with Jenny's comment.

Returning to the bull-pen with their coffee, Lois noticed an increased amount of activity. She and Jenny caught sight of a cluster of people around the big flatscreen on one end of the room.

"Hey you two!" Steve Lombard called, motioning for them to come over. He was sucking on a candy-cane and had worn one end down to a sharp point. "You've got to see this."

"If it's a ballgame and he wants me to know the score, I'll kill him," Lois muttered, and Jenny giggled. Their amusement faded, however, as they focused on the TV.

"As the world settles in for Christmas week," the female news anchor on the screen began, "Metropolis braces itself for round two of the intensifying rivalry between Lex Luthor and the alien known to the world as Superman . . ."

Lois felt everyone glance at her; she ignored them and calmly sipped her coffee.

"After city officials expressed concerns about the truckloads of unknown equipment entering LexCorp's private laboratory on the West Bank," the news anchor went on, "The Daily Planet's Lois Lane published a startling exposé claiming that Luthor was researching the remains of the alien ship that crashed in the middle of Metropolis' business district during the decisive conflict between Superman and General Zod—"

A subdued cheer went up from the staffers at the mention of Lois' name, and she smiled as she received several congratulatory pats on the back.

"The conclusion of the exposé was that Luthor may be developing a weapon against the alien who has become a polarizing icon here in Metropolis. During a press conference this afternoon, Luthor was asked about this accusation."

Lois frowned as Luthor appeared on the screen, standing ramrod-straight behind a LexCorp podium. The questioning reporter was heard first, and the Planet staffers collectively leaned forward to catch the words.

"Lois Lane of The Daily Planet accused you on Thursday of trying to build a weapon against Superman," the unseen reporter began. "What is your response to Miss Lane's article? Is there any truth in this statement? Are you developing any kind of technology with the alien ship?"

"Well, first of all," Luthor said, looking steadily at his interrogator, "it is true that we received permission from the United States military to research the alien ship. And that's all I'm able to say about that—except that what we're doing is absolutely within the confines of the law."

"Yeah, sure," Steve grumbled.

"And secondly, there is absolutely no truth in Miss Lane's accusation," Luthor added with a chuckle. "Miss Lane, remember, is highly biased in Superman's favor, and may even have a romantic relationship with him . . ."

Everyone glanced again at Lois. She kept her eyes fixed on the screen and clenched her teeth.

" . . . so her judgment is very, very colored. And thirdly," Luthor said, adopting a conciliatory look and tone that made Lois want to puke, "I'm not a man of violence. The technology we're building will never be used by me against anyone, whether human or . . . "

He paused, a sarcastic smirk slowly crossing his face. " . . . or an illegal alien."

An indignant murmur went up from the journalists and interns surrounding Lois. She drew in a breath and strode back to her cubicle at a brisk clip.

"What did you think of that?" Steve asked, pursuing her with Jenny in tow.

"I think Luthor is asking for trouble. Of course," Lois added sarcastically, "my judgment is very, very colored, so you'd probably better not pay any attention to me."

Steve snorted. "I trust your judgment a heck of a lot more than his."

In spite of her anger against Luthor, she headed home with a certain sense of anticipation. Her suitcase was all packed for tonight's trip to Kansas, and she knew she'd find Clark in the flat getting his own things in order. After all, he'd be spending Christmas week with her and Martha, and they were both determined to enjoy every minute of it.

She tried not to think about him leaving her behind. True, he'd come to visit whenever if he could, and he promised it would be often . . . but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't apprehensive about being marooned in Smallville for the next six months.

When she reached the apartment, her chest tightened in concern. A shining black car was parked in front of the building. It could mean nothing—there were, after all, other people in the building—but something about it made her uneasy. She picked up her pace and hurried up to her flat.

"Clark?" she called—and froze. Standing there in the kitchen, fiddling clumsily with the coffee maker, was her husband . . . and sitting at the kitchen table was her mother.

Either of them could've knocked her down with a feather. Clark glanced at her over his shoulder and she immediately saw what he was doing. His glasses were on and his curls were unusually tousled, so that he almost looked like he'd just been roused from a nap. He slouched worse than she'd ever seen him. Even his eyes were strangely vacant.

It's an act. He's acting. Lois swallowed. Oh God, please let it work . . .

Annie drummed her long fingers on the surface of the table; when she saw Lois, she smiled stiffly at her. "Hello, Lois."

"Hello, Mom," Lois said slowly, setting her computer bag in front of her stomach. "I didn't expect to see you today."

Annie nodded at Clark. "Your boyfriend is trying to make me a pot of coffee. I didn't know he'd moved in with you."

Lois thought fast. "No, no, we're not living together . . . we were just packing together. Remember, we're visiting his mother for Christmas."

At the mention of visiting Martha, Annie drew herself up. She stopped drumming her fingers. "I wanted to talk with you briefly before you left, Lois. Privately," she added, with a meaningful glance at Clark.

He lifted questioning eyes to Lois, and she nodded. Clark ran a hand through his curls and glanced shyly at Annie for a split second.

"Nice to finally meet you, ma'am," he said, clearing his throat so his deep voice was almost unrecognizable. He passed Lois, squeezing her arm as he did so. When she heard his footsteps going upstairs Lois carefully released a breath of relief.

"Quiet fellow," Annie said. "It must be nice after the unpredictability of your Superman."

Lois said nothing. There was something different about Annie; in spite of the snide comment, she seemed subdued. Her voice wasn't nearly as sharp as it usually was when Superman was the topic of conversation.

"I haven't seen you or talked to you in three weeks," her mother went on.

"We've both been busy," Lois replied. "And Christmas is always hectic for you. Salon concerts and fêtes and fundraisers . . ."

"Events you could've participated in," Annie said pointedly.

Lois drew a deep breath, lowered her voice. "Lex Luthor has participated in all of them—therefore, I can't afford to touch those events with a ten-foot pole. He and I aren't on the best of terms, as the whole city knows by now. Besides, I had to get ready for my hiatus."

Annie sighed. "You've completely wrecked your prospects with him, that's for certain—all for the sake of your alien."

"I never had any prospects with him. The only reason we ever expressed any interest in each other was because we both wanted information. He wanted to know something and I wanted to know something, and when we realized neither were willing to spill, all interest died. Don't go chasing pipe dreams, Mom . . . I'm never going to be 'Lois Luthor.' Ever."

Annie looked up at her, and to Lois' surprise there was no fierce anger in her eyes. In fact, her mother looked nervous.

"He sent me here," Annie whispered.

Lois stiffened. Her mother clasped her hands in her lap until her knuckles whitened.

"He's a powerful man, Lois . . . the most powerful in the country, maybe even the world. He has every asset you can think of. He has everyone's best interests at heart," she added a little too hurriedly, "but that article of yours made him furious . . . you know, the one that said he was researching the alien ship. He came to me in a rage and told me to talk to you. He wants to know where you got your information."

"I can't reveal that," Lois said. "Journalistic ethics won't let me."

"Then he says he says he'll go after Superman this time if you don't tell him. 'This time,' " Annie repeated, looking hard at her daughter. "That's what he said."

Lois' blood ran cold. Her thoughts flew to the Waynes . . . the Batman, Selina. It was almost a year since they told her and Clark about the ship research. They had a little one now, a chubby-cheeked, dark-eyed baby by the name of Helena. And now Luthor was demanding she turn her informants over to him in exchange for Superman . . .

Her mother's voice, lowered to a fretful whisper, jerked her back to the present.

"I don't know what he meant by 'this time,' " Annie was saying. "I don't. And you know I don't care much for your Superman but I don't want him dead. And how can Lex 'go after' him? I thought he was invincible."

Lois took a deep breath. "There is a way, and you're the one who told him about it."

Annie's eyes widened in horror. "I was?"

"You were the only one who could've told him what I told you about Superman going weak aboard General Zod's ship." Annie opened her mouth, but Lois raised a hand to stop her. "No, Mom, let me talk. You told Lex—without ever thinking he'd use it against Superman, I have no doubt—and now Luthor has his hands on something that could possibly kill him."

"Good God," Annie breathed.

"But I still can't tell where I got my information. I'd be putting a friend at risk if I did. If Luthor wants to take on Superman, fine. I hope he gets pummelled into the ground."

"Lois, why does that man mean so much to you?" Annie cried, with a desperation in her tone that surprised her daughter. "For heaven's sake . . ."

"Mom, listen to me," Lois said, dropping down on her knees in front of her mother. It was a pleading gesture that Lois normally would've chafed against, but Clark was at stake here; she'd grovel if she had to. She grabbed her mother's hands. Annie stared at her in shock.

"I'm not asking you to understand why I'm so protective of Superman, but I need you to trust me on it. He is a good man, the best and the truest I've ever known—and he trusts me. If you're afraid of Luthor . . ." Lois looked intently at her mother, and could see the fear in Annie's usually frigid face. "If you're afraid, Superman will protect you. I'll see to that."

Annie's haughty composure tried to repair itself. "If I think I'm in danger I'll call the police."

"It won't work," Lois said. "If any of us accuse Luthor of dirty dealing, he can deny it all and use the influence and the assets you just mentioned to clear his name. We'll be left looking like fools. No, Mom, we've got to let Superman fight for us. He had our back two years ago . . . now we've got to show him we have his."

She lowered her eyes. "I'm going to tell you something else and I don't want you to repeat it to anyone—certainly not Luthor. You know I'm going on hiatus . . . but I'm also leaving the city for a while."

Annie gave a start. "Why on earth?"

"I need to get away. I need a chance to catch my breath, first of all—but I need to get out of Luthor's sight for a while, too. I can't tell you where I'm going. I don't want it to get back to him."

"I wouldn't tell him," Annie said earnestly.

Lois bit back a frustrated argument, something along the lines of Yes, you might, you told him about Clark's reaction aboard Zod's ship, why wouldn't you tell him where I've gone if he so much as looked at you wrong? Instead she said, in as gentle and respectful a tone as she could manage, "I can't risk him finding out. I'll be safe, though . . . and you can email me. You have my address, don't you?"

"Yes . . ."

"Then keep in touch with me that way. I won't have my cell phone on much. I'm trying to get away from the world for a few months and I don't want to be a slave to the phone."

Annie looked aghast at such an idea, but accepted it and Lois' refusal to give anymore details. Eventually she left, and as Lois closed the door behind her she realized it was the first time in years that she and her mother had parted on somewhat good terms.

As she locked the apartment door she heard Clark come down the stairs. When she turned, she saw him standing there, no longer wearing his glasses. His forehead was deeply creased.

"I heard it all," he said gently. "No need to re-tell it."

Lois ran a weary hand through her hair and closed the distance between them, nestling her head in his chest. "He'll come after you again soon."

"Not until after Christmas, though," he said, stroking her hair. "Not until I've gotten you safely hidden away."