I do not own any DC Characters used herein, and am only employing them in a story meant for entertainment purposes only.

Man Of Steel

Original Story By Twisted-Wun & LJ58

Edited and Reposted (With Permission) by LJ58

4

For six days, Lois felt she had literally wore out her shoe leather looking for a lead that led her nowhere. Lex's goons seemed to have stopped targeting her, but that just meant her guardian angel stopped showing up. Jimmy remained cheerful and optimistic, but Lois was ready to spit nails.

It didn't help that she had already spotted one of her father's 'minders' trailing her. The jerk just didn't give up. He was still trying to control her life. Although even she had to guess a large part of the reason for her new tail was likely because of Kal-EL. She knew so little of him, and yet she had probably learned more than her father's bully-boys had in all the time they had him strapped down in one of their Frankenstein labs, as she considered them.

Learning her father was part of Luthor's whole genetic research debacle back at the beginning had not helped her image of her rigid, controlling father who saw life as black and white. His way, or no way. Literally. No wonder her mother bailed. Too bad she had left her behind.

"C'mon," she told Jimmy as she headed for the park. "It's time for lunch. I'll buy you a hotdog."

"But those things are bad for you," the young man frowned. "I heard from Marvin in Health that…."

"Kid, everything's bad for you. The trick is to ignore it, and just enjoy life. Because it's coming to an end whether you're eight or eighty, healthy or sick, and there's nothing you can do about it. Trust me on that."

"Well, that's kind of….. Ms. Lane," he turned back to see why she had stopped, and was looking up.

He looked up, too, at a private jet that had missed the nearby airport and was heading right for the park crowded with afternoon joggers, families, and the like. "I think we're about to have one of Perry's stories dropped right in our laps, Jimmy," she told him, staring at the jet with a smoking engine coming right at them.

"Oh, man," the young photographer gasped, raising his camera. "Do you think it's going to explode," he asked even as it apparently tried to pull up, but kept coming down.

Lois turned, watching it as it filled the air with a howling wail that was soon joined by the screams of those watching. A lot of the spectators turned to flee in vain, but it was obvious the jet was going to hit, and hit hard.

Right before a colorful blur shot across the sky, and the jet suddenly slowed, and then seemed to hang frozen in midair.

"Is it him," Jimmy gasped in wonder, seeing a small, humanoid shape under the jet that was now slowly being carried down vertically even as Lois frowned.

Was that a red cape? That was new.

"Tell me you're getting this," she hissed, not taking her eyes off the jet, or the man under it as he dropped down to set the aircraft in the middle of a wide meadow, and stepped out from under it to pull the door open, and help out the young pilot and his family out of the downed aircraft.

Jimmy, who had started to lower his camera, quickly raised it again to snap frame after frame as the colorfully clad hero turned to look right at them.

"Is it the same guy? He looks…..different from your picture," Jimmy remarked as the Superman stood there for a moment, his costume now a bold blue with his trademark insignia a startling red over a yellow shield emblazoned across his chest. His matching red cape fell over his broad shoulders as he nodded to Lois, and then he simply looked up, and was gone in the same instant.

"It's definitely him," she murmured, still seeing that quick wink just before he launched himself into the sky again.

"Wonder why he changed outfits," Jimmy remarked, now snapping pictures of the jet that was still smoking, but apparently safe if the bizarre hero had flown off without bothering to warn anyone.

"I wonder," she remarked dryly, recalling when she had informed him; 'Nice costume, but it's a bit bleak.' Had he changed because of her words? Had he actually listened to her?

"C'mon, Olsen. We gotta get back to the Planet before the video bloggers scoop us," she shouted.

"But what about our hotdogs?"

"Haven't you heard," she snapped, all but dragging him after her. "Those things are bad for you."

Twenty minutes later, Jimmy's proofs in hand, she ran into the chief's office, and handed him a few sheets of hastily written type. "We saw him again, Chief. He….."

"I heard. Saved a small jet from crashing in the park. You have pictures," he asked coolly as he took the prose and images.

"Olsen was right there beside me," she grinned, letting him sift through the startling images that were admittedly better than what she had managed.

"Good. Good. These will make a great front page."

Lois beamed.

"Just the pictures, Lane. Your story gets the sidebar."

"The sidebar! I was there, Chief! I saw the whole thing. We….."

"I have another front page in mind," he said, and held up his hands to frame his title. "The Superman Speaks!""

"That's peachy, Chief, but last I heard, he hadn't given any interviews."

"I know one he gave."

"What?"

"Right on time," Perry said as he looked up as his door opened again. "Lois Lane, say hello to our newest reporter."

She turned to gape at the man standing in the door wearing a dark navy rumpled suit, and thick glasses.

"Clark Kent. He just dropped the story of the century in our laps. The life and times of the Superman."

"He said his name was Kal-El, Mr. White," the unassuming drone in a navy suit, with thick glasses remarked quietly.

"'Superman' sells, Kent. Since it's my paper, we'll stick with that for now."

"Kent? Kent? Who are you, and how the hell did you steal my story?"

"We don't publish personal biographies here, Lane. Unless they're famous," he added after a moment. "Make nice on your own time. Kent, have you finished the article?"

"Yes, sir," he said, and handed over several sheets of neat type.

"Damn, man. Fast, and accurate," he grinned as he scanned the pages. "You're going to put my spell-check department out of a job. What about facts," he went on in the same breath. "I told you, we only publish facts. You have backup for your statements?"

"Yes, sir. Although some of the details were edited due to the fact I couldn't substantiate comments from the MRD's chief personnel involved in the case just yet."

"MRD," Lois frowned at the man with drooping shoulders. "What personnel, Kent," she snapped. "What case?"

"The Superman's background story," Perry all but crooned. "The truth of what he's been doing all this time. Let Luthor's media machine try to scoop us now," he laughed, and scanned the pages he held. "Perfect. With this background, and Olsen's pictures, we'll make history for sure with this one."

Lois gasped anew.

"Oh, we can still use your story, too, Lane. Adds color," the gruff old report turned editor grinned.

"Color!"

"Watch yourself, Kent. That woman is a real tiger when you rile her," Perry grinned as Lois stalked out of his office, slamming the door behind her.

"Whatever you say, Mr. White."

"Good, because I'm saying get back to work. I need headlines for tomorrow's paper. Go get them."

"Yes, sir," Clark nodded, and walked out.

"Nice guy," he murmured, looking back to his story as he wondered how long he would last when Lois got after him. Nothing fired her competitive juices up like having someone pull the proverbial rug out from under her.

Clark walked out of the editor's office, glanced toward Lois who had stormed over to her own desk, and dropped down to glare at the computer monitor in front of her. He gave a faint smile, and then walked over to his own desk. Coincidentally located just a few feet from her own. He began ordering his already orderly desk when Lois appeared at his side, glowering down at him.

"All right, Kent. Spill."

"Spill," he frowned.

"You know what I mean. How's a clueless bumpkin like you just happen to walk in here with the story I've been chasing all week?"

"Well, Lois, surely you realize I didn't even realize you were chasing it. I do hope there's no hard feelings….."

"Just tell me how you did it? Faked an emergency? Sent up a flare? Took out an ad? Who are you, mister, and how did you steal my story," she all but yelled in his face.

Not one of those in the bullpen so much as looked their way.

Even Jimmy was noticeably absent just then.

"Gee, Lois. First of all, I didn't realize you were chasing the story. And, secondly, I just had it kind of fall in my lap to be honest. You see….."

"Fall in your lap," she growled, her teeth audibly grinding.

"Yes. You see my bus hit a bad patch of road on the way into town, but before it could crash into the bay, ah, the….Superman caught us."

"I had heard about that one," she gritted out.

Heard, but missed it. She had been on the other side of town yesterday when that had happened. So much for wondering if the Superman was still just following her around.

"Anyway, since I was hoping to….break into journalism, I thought getting an interview with our rescuer might go a long way….."

"Wait. You just asked him to tell you his story? And he did?"

"Well, yes, Lois….."

"You call me Ms. Lane. I don't know you yet, Kent. I'm not sure I want to know you. Got it?"

"Sure, Ms. Lane," he smiled up at her.

"By the way, Lane," Perry opened his office door, and shouted her way. "I'm putting Kent on the city beat with you. Show him the ropes."

"Chief," she turned to shout back, but the door had already closed.

Lois turned and looked down at Clark Kent, who was actually smiling now.

"Don't get cocky, hayseed."

"Hayseed?"

"I know a hick when I see one. I give you one week before I kick you out of the bullpen. Maybe even the city. But I'm warning you now, you slow me down, and I'm leaving you behind anyway. Got it, Kent?"

"Yes, ma'am, Ms. Lane," he told her.

"Olsen, let's go," she shouted. Then looked over her shoulder at Clark, and demanded, "Well, are you waiting on an invitation? Put it in gear, thief. We have work to do."

"Uh, thief, Ms. Lane," he asked as he jumped up, grabbed a voice recorder on his desk to shove in his pocket, and then followed after her as a harried Jimmy Olsen came running over to join them.

"Oh, hey, Mr. Kent," Jimmy grinned.

"You know him?"

"Well, sure. I met him when Mr. White had me show him a desk where he could…. Uh, he could….type….up….his…."

He looked between the two of them as they waited on the elevator. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Clark told him.

"Yes," Lois hissed.

"Uh, I'll just….stay out of this one," he decided, and went back to fumbling with his camera.

"By the way, James. Those were nice shots you took. I, uh, saw them on Mr. White's desk when I gave him my story. You've got quite an eye."

"Gee, thanks, Mr. Kent."

"Suck up much," Lois growled at him.

Jimmy only sighed as Clark pointedly stayed silent.

MoS

Kal-El hovered over the city, watching the streets from miles overhead as he listened to every sound around him.

Deciding to enter the world as 'Clark Kent' had been an impulsive decision, but he found it was oddly enjoyable to interact with people without them gaping at you in either fear, or awe. He was just another human when he became Clark. An identity he had taken on only after sifting through tens of thousands of likely personas before he had found one that came with a technically legitimate background.

Twenty-five years ago, Clark Kent had been born to Jonathan and Martha Kent in a colorfully named town of Smallville, Kansas. The simple farming family had raised him on that farm until he was five, at which time they lost their farm, volunteered for mission work, and took young Clark to China with them. The Kents later died in a massive quake in a distant province, their son apparently lost with them among the thousands of others that died, too. Only where the Kents' bodies were returned for burial, Clark was never found. Considering the many lost or missing at the time, no one was overly surprised.

Kal-El found the missing Clark made the perfect cover, and adopted the identity as an orphaned child lost in an overcrowded Chinese province who grew up to make his own way across the continent before returning home. That he just happened to have flawless language skills only added to the authenticity of his tale. It helped that he was the same apparent age as the missing child, too.

He wondered idly how long Lois would take to sniff out the story he had set down once Clark Kent 'officially' returned to America from a Beijing embassy. From what he had seen and learned of the woman, she would likely not be satisfied until she assured herself she knew everything about him. Or rather, about Kent. She was a most vibrant, and remarkable female.

Daring, too. He had seen few on this planet that would have taken half the chances she had knowing that her life would be imperiled. Yet she did so again and again without hesitation.

Even deep in thought, he heard the scream, and looked down to seek its source. He quickly realized it was just children playing. He smiled, still touched by the novel sight of ordinary children playing ordinary games. He remembered only a long, despairing youth chained in small rooms with only glowing rocks and scowling soldiers, or indifferent scientists for company. Soldiers that did not care if he were educated, or entertained. Scientists that only wanted to pry whatever secrets they thought he held from him. To them, he was just one artifact they were guarding at the time.

Focusing his eyes, he found and watched Lois stalking her own apartment like a restless predator, and while he didn't tune his hearing to her, he could tell she was ranting at someone over the telephone receiver she held. He couldn't help but smile.

When he first approached Lois, he considered letting her tell his story once the idea of letting the world know who he was had occurred to him. He hoped telling just enough of the truth would satisfy those around him, and show them that they did not need to fear him. That idea had appealed to him. Still, it occurred to him that those that still hunted him might think she was becoming…..special to him, and they might even use her against him. He could not allow that.

So, while they might have been able to target Lois Lane, just let them try to hunt Clark, and see how far they got. Meanwhile, he would keep Lois at a respectful distance just so that no one like Dr. Luthor, or General Flagg thought she was a string that could be used to bind him. He suspected men like that would be all too eager to try from what he had seen of this world to date.

Unfortunately, men like Emil Hamilton were proving all too rare.

Still, he had hope. Which, he supposed, was what his father must have had when he first launched him into space to seek asylum on this alien world.

He turned, a shrill alarm sounding in his ears this time even as he heard gunshots, and a quick glance told him the police below were outnumbered, and outgunned. He flung himself down at the planet, and closed the distance in seconds.

Even as the man in heavy Kevlar was slapping a fresh clip into a mini-gun he aimed at the police, he landed in the street between them.

"Keep back," he told the police as he turned to the criminals who gaped at him.

"Is the circus in town," one of the thugs mocked.

"No, it's that freakin' Superman they're talking about."

"Well, I ain't heard he's bulletproof," the tattooed felon with the mini-gun scoffed as he pulled the trigger. "So, let's find out," he spat as hundreds of rounds exploded out of the barrel to slam into his chest, ricocheting wildly.

Kal-El glanced back and forth, his glowing eyes vaporizing the stray rounds so no one was hurt. The few he didn't consider a threat simply bounced off his invulnerable body, and clattered around his feet. The men quit laughing as he walked steadily toward them, his eyes still glowing as their weapons all began to dramatically heat up.

The men hunched behind the armored truck howled in pain as they flung their super-heated weapons aside, and favored seared flesh as the police swarmed them.

"Anything else I can do, officer," he asked a somber-eyed woman in plain clothes with a short shag who wore a badge when she stormed after him after the men were taken into custody.

"You can come down to the station, mister," she told him. "Because while you might have the right intentions, it's still illegal to…"

He glanced off to one direction even as he heard a shrill scream.

"Sorry. Fire on Tenth and Murdock. You might want to alert the appropriate departments," he said even as he rose into the air, and vanished in a blur of speed.

Maggie Sawyer, head of Metropolis' Special Crimes Unit turned to glare around her, eyes blazing, and demanded of one officer. "Well? You heard him. Call it in."

She then stalked over to her squad where a bull of a man lounged against the car, chewing an unlit cigar.

"Quit grinning, and get us over there. I'm not finished with this guy!"

"Anything you say, Cap," Dan Turpin grinned. "But I get the feeling he ain't the type to hang around once he does his thing."

"Just move," she demanded as other officers at the scene arrested the felons, most of them going to need a doctor for their scorched hands. She found it hard to care with five of her own down. Down, but thankfully not dead. She knew all too well it could have easily been the other way.

Dan slammed the door, and made a reporter curse as he almost ran him down as he spun the squad around, and headed for the fire.

By the time they arrived, the now only smoldering building was already emptied, and the fire department was just arriving. The red and blue clad vigilante was nowhere to be seen. Maggie barely resisted the urge to curse. Then she eyed Dan, and said, "Didn't the Planet get the first story on this guy? Maybe one of them knows….?"

"Word is, Lane chased him for over a week without finding him. Seems he only shows when something major is going down."

"I don't care. I won't have any masked vigilantes in my city."

"I don't think he's masked, Cap'n," he grinned sardonically.

She glared potently at him.

Dan only smirked at her glare. He was one of the few that could do so, and get away with it.

"We'll talk with Lane tomorrow. And what was the other one? The guy that actually reported his story?"

"Kent. Heard Lane was ready to drop him off the Metro Bridge when he showed up, and scooped her on that one."

"You hear a lot," Maggie murmured.

"Hey, a good cop has his sources."

"Who is she? And does she know you're only looking for another ex-wife to support?"

Dan grinned. "C'mon, Mags, don't be like that."

"Just head back to the precinct. We still have to question Diamond's gang, and find out how they knew about the special gold transfer tonight. Or did your sources tell you about that one, too?"

"Not a word," he sighed as he headed back to their precinct with his usual lack of respect for most of the city's traffic laws.

She only shook her head at him.

MoS

Maggie yawned as she set her coffee cup in the sink after she rinsed it out.

"Detective Sawyer," someone addressed her, and she stared directly out the kitchen window at the red S on a broad chest. "I heard you were looking for me."

Even as Maggie absorbed the fact she had no fire escape this high on her apartment building, she realized, too, that the caped man knew where she lived.

Toby screeched as she fumbled with her robe, turning her back on the man in the window, and Maggie glowered all the more.

"Sorry, Ms. Raines," he added as Maggie ground her own teeth, wondering why he was really here, and what she could do about it. "I didn't mean to alarm you."

Toby turned, her robe now more securely wrapped around her as she stayed just behind her lover, aware of who he was not only from the news, but from Mags' constant grumbling of late.

"Uh, no…. No problem."

He smiled, and nodded, and she had to admit, there didn't seem to be any condescension or disdain in that clear gaze she usually received from those that knew she and Maggie were in a relationship.

"By the way, that was a nice article you wrote on geothermal energy. Good work. I think you were doing better with your solar theories, though."

"Save it, mister. My office in thirty. Got it," Maggie growled, pointing at him with her coffee cup. "We'll discuss your lack of manners, along with your other flaws, then."

"As you wish, detective," he nodded, and flew off without looking back.

"Can you believe that," Toby exclaimed as Maggie scowled after the colorfully clad vigilante.

"I can't believe he knew where I lived," she huffed.

"He reads my work," Toby grinned.

"Down, girl," Maggie growled, and slammed her mug on the sink. "I'd better get going. I get the feeling the guy will be there in thirty minutes, and not one minute before, or after."

"It's not like that," Toby huffed, hearing Maggie's tone. "A guy like that reads my work!"

Maggie sighed, and rolled her eyes.

"Get dressed, Toby," she growled. "I have to get to the office."

Continued…