Within seconds of entering the stairwell, he's rocketing toward the scene of a collapsed high-rise in New Jersey, wondering what just transpired between him and Lois. Twice this morning she provided him an out. First, seeming to know how uncomfortable Clark would be answering questions about Superman, and then just now, when he desperately needed to leave. Does she know? Or is she just…what?
He thinks about how different she's been toward him this morning. The way her eyes kept meeting his with soft concern and even worry during the most heated moments of the symposium. The way her heart kept skittering when their eyes met. The way she so readily kissed him just now.
She knows. The moment he's sure, he's both elated and deflated. She knows. She isn't…too mad, it doesn't seem. But she knows. That's why she's been so affectionate today, he realizes. His heart sinks as he puzzles it out glumly. But how long has she known? She was angry with him last night, then needling him for more transparency, although she did soften by the time they said goodnight. Last night she didn't know. His heart felt alight with hope again as he then remembered the adoring way she was looking at him last night, still seemingly in the dark about his secret, just before he abandoned her on the dance floor. That was Clark she was dancing with, he had been sure of it. Not Superman, not her pretend boyfriend. Just him, Clark. And it was Clark she was angry with for abandoning her as they teetered on the precipice of something new - something real. It was Clark, not Superman, who she may have even been hoping would kiss her before the night's end.
In hindsight, maybe he should have kissed her before he left her, promising all would be explained upon his return. He is a coward, he thinks again.
But this morning all seemed forgiven, and understood. And she was so distracted, so quiet, so pensive. He knew something was off. He tries to make sense of how she seemingly figured it out overnight. It's possible she pieced it together. He'd made it very clear he had something to tell her, and Lois is the best there is at uncovering a secret.
Or maybe...had she seen him coming in through the window this morning? He had been so quiet. But he knew it was a risk. He hadn't thought this part of the Ruse through at all, and was anxious to get back to his spot on the couch, lest she wake up in the night and find him missing. He had been too filthy, and quite frankly, was too exhausted to come all the way up through the lobby, and he'd left without his key. The window from his room didn't open wide enough, so his only choice had been her balcony. He'd determined that a giant gust of superspeed wind through the room was more disruptive than a quiet tiptoe to the bathroom. She looked at him so differently this morning. At some point, she must have seen him. She knows.
His arrival now at the collapsed building in New Jersey was chaotic; one of those rescues where people needed him wherever he looked. Those were always the worst. He hardly had time to think about Lois; he was immediately consumed with saving all the lives he could.
Before he can think about Lois again, five and a half hours have passed. All the bodies, both those who he could save and those he couldn't, were out of the building. Too many children. So many desperate, weeping families frantically searching for loved ones, needing comfort, everywhere he looked. Although he did locate the trapped victims in almost record speed, even faster than usual - Lois had perhaps unlocked some turbo power he hadn't known he possessed. But still, so many had perished. The chief of police says they believe it was a targeted attack and that explosives had been planted along support beams in the basement. He locates the incendiary devices and unearths them from the rubble. A little girl tugs his cape as he's surveying the scene one last time, her hair covered in a film of ashy debris, her enormous dark brown eyes wide with shock. She asks him if he's seen her mother. He stoops down to her level, and shakes his head and gives her the gentlest of hugs. He knows her mother would have been found by now, but maybe she's at the hospital. He asks her name. "Ania," she says shyly. He takes her hand and leads her over to a case worker on the scene, giving her a hug and telling her that she is a very brave little girl, and he hopes she finds her mother soon.
His heart feels heavy and weary, thinking of all the people he couldn't save, thinking of Ania. He makes a mental note to follow up and find out if her mother made it. He rockets back to the hotel, feeling wholly lacking in the energy required to face the conversation he has coming. The biggest conversation of his life. She knows.
He arrives back at the hotel room, and Lois is already gone. He looks at his watch. 5:38. She's already at the 5:30 cocktail hour, but the scent of her perfume and hair products are still mingling in the air. She had said she needed help with her dress, he remembers. He kicks himself, deeply regretting not being here to help her with that again. He steps into the bathroom for a superquick shower and change into his suit, checking his watch again. 5:40.
He dashes through the stairwell to the bottom floor, hoping to catch up to her, and arrives at the entrance down to the ballroom, frantically scanning the room for Lois. He hears her heartbeat but doesn't immediately see her on this level.
He looks up to the landing, and she's there, holding a fresh glass of champagne – she's breathtaking – in a black taffeta cocktail dress, her glossy hair pulled back into a soft updo, her eyes dancing with his as her whole face lights up into a delighted, enchanted smile. He isn't sure if he floats or walks up the stairs but somehow he is instantly by her side, kissing her cheek.
"There you are," she says.
"You're stunning," he hears himself whisper in her ear. She blushes.
"You're not so bad yourself, partner," he hears her say, and he's not sure what's happening between them, within him, as it's a bit like a dream, and a bit like stumbling headlong off a cliff into a freefall (without the ability to fly), but he feels certain this isn't pretend.
She steps into him to whisper in his ear, laying a hand against his chest. "Bobby insisted on meeting you clear across town, on the Southside, in person, about the lead on our big mystery story. You know how Bobby can be. He's so paranoid about using the phone." The gentle scrunching of her fingers against his chest while she talks shoots warm currents of happiness through his body.
He looks down at her, his eyebrows raised. "Do we have any idea what the story is we're working on?" Now doesn't feel like the time to go into why she's covering for him.
"The less said the better. No need to explain, we can't talk about it - it's confidential for now," she murmurs in a rush, patting his chest for emphasis. Th
Oh, yes. She knows.
Jeanne and Dr. Baldwin appear next to them. He realizes he's just been looking at her adoringly for what? Five minutes? Twenty seconds? His sense of everything has vanished as if in a vacuum, and all that remains is an overwhelming, disorienting lovestruck gratitude for his partner and best friend, who is here by his side, gazing up at him happily, even though she knows.
"Clark! Lois tells me that story really heated up, I'm glad you were able to make it back in time," Dr. Baldwin says sympathetically.
He chuckles uncomfortably. "Uh, yeah, our source is notoriously fickle about giving us sensitive information over the phone."
"Lois mentioned you ended up all the way down on the Southside. This must be some exciting story."
"Well, we're hoping so. Sometimes these leads fizzle out. Could be a wild goose chase, but he gave me some promising information for us to follow up on," Clark replies with convincing ambiguity. He turns down to his date, "Lois, how did the panel go this afternoon?"
"It was fabulous, Clark. Much easier than this morning. I'll tell you all about it later, but I loved talking to all the young women. I left very inspired and encouraged about the next generation," she says.
"The inspiration was mutual. Dr. Watterson is trying to get her to come be a guest lecturer next semester," Jeanne adds.
"Not at all surprising," he smiles down at her, his fingers wrapping more snugly around her waist. He's itching to talk to her, to ask her a million questions, to kiss her senseless. But for now, she seems content to be with him, all of him, and that is enough. The rest can wait. But tonight is sure to be the sweetest form of torture imaginable.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't here to help you with this gorgeous dress," he murmurs down to her as the others reflect on their campus adventures that afternoon.
"Ahh, Clark. What's important is you're there to help her out of it later," Linda's husband elbows him, and Lois blushes with a nervous laugh, turning into Clark as his arms envelop her. Clark throws his head back and chuckles gamely in service to the Ruse, relishing how snugly she's tucked into his frame. Sweet torture, indeed.
"Well aren't you two a sight for sore eyes," a Southern voice bellows behind them. Lois unfurls herself, but only a little, from the cocoon of Clark's chest to see Perry and Jimmy walking toward them. She looks up at Clark, her eyes wide with alarm.
"Perry! Jimmy - this is a surprise," Lois says, giving Perry a hug.
"Dr. Watterson called me yesterday and invited me to sit at his table. You know, he and I were classmates back in the day," Perry smiles, patting Clark on the back as he shakes his hand. "Alice had a prior engagement. Had to bring the kid along so uh, well, so he could get a photo of our distinguished reporter for our morning edition."
"Everyone, this is my editor, Perry White, and Jimmy Olsen, one of our most promising photojournalists," Lois says.
Jimmy grins broadly, flattered by the compliment. "More like a newsroom gopher, but I appreciate Lois' confidence in me. I basically do whatever these two tell me to do," he quips through a round of handshakes.
As Jimmy is telling the group about his and Lois' recent escapade saving Clark from Metallo's clutches, Perry leans over and whispers, "You shoulda said something. I wouldn't have protested so hard about you two being gone at the same time."
"It's not…exactly…what you think it is, Chief," Clark says lamely.
Perry sidles up even closer to Clark's ear and places a strong hand on his shoulder. "Clark whatever you're thinking this is, that's all fine. I'll play along. But I have eyeballs. And I didn't become editor-in-chief of the largest Metropolitan newspaper just because I can play a mean fiddle. t took some time for her to get over her Superman crush, but her heart has been yours for a long while now. And I'm real happy for you, kid. For you both. Why I thought I was still going to be watching you two make wistful eyes at each other at my next retirement party," Perry chuckles.
"Ah, thanks, Chief," Clark replies, trying to balance his awkwardness with his composure. To his delight and surprise, Lois is pressed up against him again as she's pulled into Jimmy's story, recounting her relief in finding Clark at the laboratory after Corbin had kidnapped him.
"Why Lois looks like she's here with the King himself. You might as well be wearing a cape," Perry says wryly into his ear, looking every bit as chuffed as if he was Lois' own father, and she really was dating Elvis. He looks at him under raised eyebrows. "Am I wrong?"
Clark adjusts his glasses uncomfortably. He wonders sometimes, if the Chief knows his secret. He replies with a sheepish smile and snakes a hand down Lois' arm, which Perry takes as confirmation enough of his suspicions.
"All right, Jimmy and I are going to get a drink. Then I'm going to need you two to fill me in on this big story Dr. Watterson says has had Clark tied up all day. I didn't know anything about it."
Lois caught Clark's eye. "Uh, well Chief, it's not much of a story yet, just some leads we're chasing down. There's nothing to tell."
"We didn't want to pitch it until we had something more concrete," Clark adds.
"Pretty half-baked right now, Chief," she agrees quickly, "but could be something. We will let you know when it's ready."
His eyes dart between them thoughtfully, landing on Clark for a pensive moment before responding. "All right. Take it up with me when you've got something then. I'm going to need some follow-up on the terrorist hijacking tomorrow. There are some rumblings that not all was what it seemed there - not your basic extremist hijacking. Collins has a source that says there could be a connection to that bombed building in Los Angeles. He's following up today, but I want you two on it tomorrow. Whatever this is can wait."
"Yessir," Clark says, relieved to be pulled out of of the lie.
"Your best contacts in Washington aren't going to know squat about the terrorists, Kent," Carson says, sidling up behind them.
"Sounds like all the more reason to check it out," Lois replies pointedly, looking up at Clark. He nods down at her in agreement.