Lois emerged feeling calmer, but with a mass of emotions whirling about under the surface. There were a number of questions she wanted answers to before she was leaving, she had decided. She still wasn't sure whether she could accept Clark/Superman as the friend he had once been, let alone as a lover, but she was determined to talk, to try to understand why he had done what he had. At least then she might be able to achieve a measure of acceptance, even if she could not be happy about what she now knew.

She felt a sense of relief now as she noticed that Clark, who was in the act of pouring coffee - she assumed he'd heard her approach, even though she had been moving quietly - was now wearing his glasses again and his shirt was buttoned. Lois felt that the discussion might be a little easier once she was talking to a familiar figure, rather than some hybrid of Clark and Superman.

"Hi - you OK?" Clark asked awkwardly, turning to face Lois. He studied her face, looking for clues as to her frame of mind, but found none. Her expression was calm, which could mean anything.

"Yeah, I guess, " she replied. "Can we talk now?"

"Sure," Clark agreed. "You want to come back over here?" He led the way to his living area and gestured to Lois to take the sofa. He sat opposite her and asked, trying not to show his inner nervousness, "So - where d'you want to start? I'll tell you anything you want to know."

Lois thought for a moment. She had so many questions, but they were all muddled in her mind. <Where's your journalistic instincts? Who, why, what, where, when, how - and start at the beginning!> She took a deep breath, looked down at her hands - which were trembling - then looked back at Clark. "So, you're not really Clark Kent at all, and Jonathan and Martha aren't your parents, right? You're really from Krypton?"

Clark relaxed a little. If she simply wanted information, that he could provide without difficulty. It was when she got around to questioning his motives that, he was well aware, she might make things rather more difficult for him. "Jonathan and Martha Kent are the only parents I've ever known. They found me when I was a tiny baby, and they raised me as if I was their own child. I don't remember Krypton at all; all I know about it and about my real parents I found out from the globe."

"The globe?" Lois questioned.

"Yeah, remember the globe that Jack stole - the one which I said belonged to Superman? It's in my bedroom - I can show it to you later if you like."

"It really was yours all along then," Lois said slowly, as yet more events in their shared past suddenly appeared in a different light. "I *knew* you were holding out on me then."

"Yes, I know. I hated lying to you, but I couldn't help it." <Oh no,> Clark thought, <we're back onto that subject.>

Lois didn't take the opportunity, though. She had more questions for him first. "I knew you were from Krypton - well, that Superman was, anyway, but I didn't realise he -you - had grown up here. Oh, this is so complicated! I'm used to thinking of you as different people!"

"I know, Lois," Clark acknowledged. "But it's just me." He paused. "Yes, I grew up in Smallville, and until the globe spoke to me and told me about my origins I had no idea where I came from. I was just the same as any other American man... except for the flying and superstrength and so on. The superpowers developed gradually, so as a kid I was completely normal. Once I started seeing through things and being able to lift abnormal weights - and especially when I realised I could fly - it was obvious that I wasn't... normal." He looked at Lois, wondering if she could possibly understand how it had felt to be so different from everyone else, different in a way he had never been able to admit to anyone except his parents, and to be afraid of what would happen if people had found out.

Lois was watching Clark closely and she saw the naked emotions in his face. "So when you came to Metropolis you just wanted to be an ordinary person... to fit in?"

"Yeah, that's it, exactly!" Clark exclaimed. He realised that he shouldn't have underestimated Lois, the 'best damned investigative journalist the Planet had ever had,' according to Perry.

"And someone who can see through walls and fly and bend steel with his bare hand wouldn't exactly... fit in, would they?" Lois asked softly. "You'd have been a freak."

"You do understand," Clark breathed softly.

"Yes, but what I *can't* understand is why you couldn't have told me!," she pointed out in frustration. "OK, I know I wasn't exactly the... the nicest person possible when you first came to the Planet. I know I treated you pretty badly - the hack from Nowheresville and all that - but we did become friends. And I've trusted you with an awful lot of things you know I've never told anyone else. It hurts, you know?" she added, quietly. "My best friend couldn't trust me, was holding out on me on something *this* big."

"I know," Clark agreed quietly. "I have wanted to tell you about ... Superman for a very long time. The thing is, I invented him in the first place so that I could help people without exposing myself. If no-one knew it was *Clark Kent* doing all these amazing things, then I might be able to have something of a normal life. A mysterious superhero flying in and out, who could never be found when he didn't want to be seen, seemed an easier way to manage things."

"Yeah, I understand all that," Lois said, a little impatiently. "I mean, with madmen like Trask around, if the world knew Clark Kent was Superman you'd probably be shut up in some laboratory by now."

Clark nodded. "That was always my Dad's argument. He always said I should be careful."

"OK," Lois said abruptly. "But you still haven't explained - *why couldn't you tell me*?"

Clark sighed. Here was the difficult bit. He gave Lois a wry glance. "To begin with," he said, "as my friend you'd be in danger. The last thing I want is someone using you to get to me - to think that you'd be in danger because of me. That's happened once or twice already, like when Trask thought that you and I could contact Superman."

"Do you really think I'd give away your secret?" Lois demanded furiously. "*Don't you trust me*?"

Yeah, he'd messed it up. Clark got to his feet and came to sit next to Lois, tentatively taking her hands in his. "Yes, I trust you, Lois," he said quietly but insistently. His eyes met hers, making it difficult for her to look away from the sincerity and caring in his expression. "I'd trust you with my life. Don't you remember when I asked you to take the Kryptonite bullet out of my shoulder?"

Lois bit her lip, remembering. That had been one of the most difficult things she'd ever had to do. Terrified that she wouldn't be able to manage it, that she would only drive the bullet in deeper, that in his vulnerable state she would hurt Superman even more... She nodded.

"I really *didn't* think you'd tell anyone. But the more people who know..." He paused, knowing that he had to be completely honest with Lois now. "Lois, there is another reason why I was reluctant to tell you. You see, what I didn't expect when I invented Superman was that you would... that..." <Oh God, how can I say this...?> He swallowed, then just decided to say what he meant. There had been enough lies and half-truths: "...that you would fall for him."

This made Lois blush with embarrassment, and she looked away from Clark. Then she realised what he'd really meant, and she glared at him. "You mean you didn't tell me the truth because you thought I might only want you for Superman, not Clark?"

Clark nodded slowly. Then he was completely taken aback as Lois slapped his face with a resounding crack. "Don't pretend that hurt, Superman!" she bit out. He stared at her in confusion.

"I can't believe you thought I could be so shallow!" she yelled at him. She continued in a quieter but no less furious tone. "It must have been obvious for months now that I was interested in Clark. Of course I cared for Superman - and you didn't do a great deal to stop me, did you? I remember you kissing me on several occasions, and it wasn't always at my instigation either!" It was Clark's turn to flush with embarrassment.

"Lois, I loved you. Whether I was Superman or Clark at the time, it was always still me underneath, and I loved you so much it was... very difficult... not to hold you, or touch your face, or just take the opportunity to be near you."

Again, Lois heard the sincerity in his voice and saw in her mind how difficult it had been for Clark. She wasn't sure how she would have behaved in the same circumstances, and so she decided to accept his explanation for now. But there was still something else. She met his eyes, hurt clearly visible in hers.

"There's one more thing, Clark, and this is the thing that really hurts more than anything else. *You let me think you were dead!!* Have you any *idea* how that felt? How much pain that caused me - how many tears I shed... I thought my best friend, the man I lo -" She broke off with a choke, the tears beginning to flow again. "You let me believe that you'd been killed, and that it was all my fault. I don't know if I can forgive you for that."

*****************************

"So what happened then?" Martha asked Clark, concerned. It was an hour later and he was pacing up and down the kitchen in his parents' farmhouse, agitatedly recounting the events of the evening.

He turned to face his mother, his face agonised. "I ... just didn't know what to say to her, Mom. I mean, *I* hardly understood what I was doing at the time either, remember?"

"Yes, son, but remember Mr White told us that Lois was really cut up about Clark 'dying'," Jonathan pointed out. "It's understandable that she should think it was unfair of you to let her suffer like that."

Clark flushed. "You do too, I guess?"

"Don't you, sweetheart?" Martha asked in the gentle but pointed manner which usually had the effect of making Clark feel extremely guilty.

"Mom, Dad! *I* was hurting at the time too, you know? I believed that Clark Kent was ...dead too."

"Now you're being stupid, Clark," Jonathan pointed out. "Clark, you were never dead. You just had a problem letting people know you were alive without anyone finding out you were Superman. You can't possibly compare that with the way Lois felt."

"I *know* that - no, I guess you're right, Dad," Clark conceded. "I love Lois, but I was so busy feeling sorry for myself then that I didn't think how she might have felt."

"Don't you think you should be telling *her* that?" Martha pointed out.

Clark ran his hands through his hair again. "I *want* to, but she won't talk to me. She said she'd never forgive me for that, and she went home immediately after. I ...guess I've really messed it up." He threw himself down into a chair and let his head sink into his hands.

Martha rounded on him. "Clark Jerome Kent, I know you're a lot of things but I never thought I'd call you a coward!"

The Man of Steel jerked upwards and favoured his mother with one of his patented Superman glares. "Mom, I am *not* a coward!"

"No?" Martha taunted. "Yes, I know you can face down armed robbers with your bare hands and dive head first into the middle of a volcano, but isn't it easy to do things like that when you *know* you won't get hurt? Your problem is that you won't take the risk when you might get hurt. And by doing that you end up hurting more than just yourself."

"I have to go with your mother there," Jonathan interjected. "From what you've told us, Lois is hurting pretty bad too, and a lot of it could have been avoided if you had taken a chance earlier."

"I don't believe you're saying this, Dad!" Clark exclaimed in frustration. "You were the one who kept warning me to be careful about telling anyone about my super-powers!"

"I know," Jonathan admitted. "But your mom was right: Lois is different, and I guess she loves you."

"She doesn't love me," Clark protested in a muffled voice; his head had slumped into his hands again.

"I think she does, sweetheart," Martha insisted. "Why else would she have been *so* hurt about your not trusting her?"

Clark got to his feet abruptly and walked over towards the window, gazing up into the night sky as if for inspiration for the second time that night. Finally he took a deep breath and turned back towards his parents. His expression was firm, resolute. "OK, Mom, I admit it. You're right. I *have* been a coward about this. But I'm not going to be any more. Thanks for your support." He walked over towards Jonathan and Martha, and enveloped both of them in a hug. "I love you both."

Then, leaving a gust of wind in his wake, he spun back into Superman and flew out of the kitchen door and up into the sky. Martha looked ruefully at the after-effect of the mini-whirlwind her son had produced and sighed. "I wish he wouldn't do that!"

"Do you think he'll be OK?" Jonathan asked her, as they both strolled over to the window and looked out as if they could see Clark in the sky.

"*They'll* be OK," Martha replied, smiling. "Once he talks *properly* to Lois, I'm sure everything will be fine." She looked up at her husband. "I knew as soon as I saw that girl she'd be just perfect for our Clark, and she's not going to let me down."

Jonathan, well used to his wife's certainties, hugged her as they walked together to their bedroom.

****************************

Flying back to Metropolis, Clark reflected on his conversation with his parents. He knew that they had only told him what he himself was well aware of. He *had* behaved badly towards Lois, in so many ways: the shooting incident was only one of these. He also should have anticipated that Lois might have focused on that particular incident: after all, what sort of a best friend was he if he allowed his friend to suffer such pain needlessly?

Clark had no reason to underestimate the importance of being regarded by Lois as her 'best friend', nor how much of an achievement this was. He had never needed Jimmy or Perry to tell him how unusual this was for Lois, who had always given the impression of never *needing* to be close to anyone, and who had resisted the well-meaning efforts of other colleagues to get to know her better.

He had come a long way from his initial arrival at the Planet. Then he had been very much the unwelcome 'junior' partner in the Lane and Kent writing team. He well remembered Lois's abrasive manner towards him, her attempts to intimidate him, and her hostile response to his tentative attempts at a more friendly relationship. She quite simply had not considered him to be her equal - although, to be fair, that attitude hadn't really lasted long - and she had resented Perry's foisting of him on her. That, he acknowledged, was reasonable, and he had even recognised that at the time. After all, Lois was an established journalist, whose reputation had travelled beyond Metropolis (he had read her work himself before coming to the city, although he hadn't told her this), and she was used to working alone. She also, as he had subsequently discovered, had little reason to trust work colleagues, especially ambitious male ones. He had had to work very hard to persuade her to trust him. Saving her life had undoubtedly helped...

But even after their first big story together, for a long time Clark had been aware that Lois quite simply didn't *see* him. Oh, she knew he was there, in the Planet offices, working with her on stories and so on, but she was completely unaware of him as anything other than one of her many work colleagues. That impression was, of course, reinforced by her attitude towards his *alter ego*. She had no difficulty noticing Superman! *He* got Lois's attention, all right; yet Lois could have a conversation with Superman, and Clark could then turn up not two minutes later, and it never dawned on her that she was speaking to the same person.

Yes, sure, Clark acknowledged, that was mainly his own doing; he hadn't wanted anyone to put two and two together and so he had differentiated Superman as much as possible from Clark: a different posture, different tone of voice, altered hairstyle, more controlled facial expressions. But it still rankled that Lois, who probably spent more time with Clark and Superman than anyone else (except his parents), had never noticed the similarity. Apart from when she was under the influence of Miranda's pheromone... but when that had worn off, she had rationalised away her thoughts with a trite comment about every woman in love thinking her man looks like Superman. Sigh...

But he had overcome all of these obstacles and became Lois's friend. Even if he hadn't fallen in love with Lois the moment he met her, he would have wanted to be her friend. All the qualities which she possessed: her intelligence, her humour, her loyalty (once she *did* decide to trust someone!), her dedication to journalism and the quest for truth and fairness... these were all qualities he hoped that he himself possessed, and which he valued very highly. And so, love aside, he had worked assiduously to overcome Lois's resistance to friendship. Gradually she had come to trust him; although there had been signs early on that he was making progress, for instance her genuine relief that he had survived Trask's attempt on his life in Smallville. The first real indication of her trust had occurred after Lois had been witness to a murder, and the murderer, disguised as her landlord, had tried to strangle her. Clark, who had been keeping guard outside her apartment building, had scared the assassin off. He would have run after the man, but Lois had pleaded with him not to leave her, and he had simply held her, on the floor of her apartment.

Lois had never really had *friends*, Clark had gradually realised. She didn't keep in touch with her college classmates, and she had male acquaintances with whom she went on occasional dates - *interviews*, her sister Lucy had termed them - with. The experience of having a friend, Clark knew, had been completely new to Lois. Thus she would expect him to be completely honest with her while not returning the compliment - and never saw the contradiction. She behaved as if she expected Clark to be *there* for her whenever she needed him - which he was more than happy to do, so long as Super duties didn't intervene - but was occasionally impatient with him if he needed to talk.

But for some months now she had publicly acknowledged that Clark was her partner *and* her best friend.

So now she was fully entitled to feel betrayed. He knew that; it hadn't needed his parents' intervention to make him realise it.

And he was going to make up for it, if she would let him.

****************************

Lois sat curled up on her bed, tears again drying on her face as she relived in her mind the events of the evening. The shock of finding out that Clark, *Clark*, her best friend, was really *Superman* was beginning to wear off, although she still felt embarrassed at certain memories. She had calmed down enough to admit that Clark had had a point in relation to her crush on Superman; she remembered the evening she had tried to bid for a date with Superman in a charity auction and her tearful disappointment when she had been unsuccessful; and later telling Clark despairingly that Superman didn't even know she was *alive*. Oh, but he did, she now realised. The only problem was that she hadn't realised *he* was alive - she really had been too wrapped up in the superhero in the suit to pay any attention to the real person underneath. The person who, she had slowly come to realise in the past few months, was warm, caring, sincere, genuine, and *really* good company.

Superman had been like a hero on a pedestal, she had realised recently, someone she admired from afar and had been lucky enough to get close to a couple of times. Clark, on the other hand, was *real*. He was someone she had underestimated when he had first arrived at the Planet; he had turned out to be intelligent, witty, attractive and someone who really cared about her. He was the one who was there for her when she was afraid, who would sit up half the night watching videos with her, would listen to her for hours when she wanted it, and, she knew, would protect her with his life.

His life... she had thought that he *had* protected her with his life when Clyde had shot him. Clark dying had caused more pain than she had ever experienced, or believed was possible. That, she knew, was when she had begun to think that he meant more to her than simply her best friend.

But Clark had never died and been resurrected. He had been alive all along, and had simply let her *think* he'd been killed, and let her agonise about it being all her fault, and therefore he hadn't cared about her feelings - *couldn't* have cared, otherwise he would never have put her through that agony.

Acknowledging this fact yet again made the tears well up in her eyes anew and she gulped, trying to hold back the desire to cry. She got up off the bed and padded into the kitchen, intent upon raiding the fridge for ice-cream. Comfort food was what was required.

Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, the final few minutes at his apartment played themselves out again inside her head. When she had told Clark she would never forgive him for letting her think he was dead, he had jerked back as if in pain, a more physical reaction than when she had slapped his face. He had repeated her name as if it was a prayer, once... twice, then simply crumpled on the sofa and whispered, "I'm sorry. I ... never intended to hurt you."

She had turned away, not wanting to be seduced by his obvious pain and remorse. She had said, in as businesslike a tone as she could manage, "I'm going home now," and had walked towards the door.

He was there before her, and she hadn't even seen him move. "Lois, I won't stop you going," he had reassured her in a gentle, hesitant tone in response to her "get out of my way" facial expression. "I just ... I'm worried about you - I want to make sure you get home safely." His expression had revealed a multitude of emotions, although the uppermost was concern for her safety. "Will you let me... fly you home?"

She had shaken her head. She did *not* want to be that close to him, not at that moment. "I can drive. I'm *fine*, Clark. Let me go." Her sentences had emerged staccato; she had not wanted to reveal the true state of her emotions at that point. She had been very close to breaking down completely, and she had felt that the longer she stayed around Clark the more likely she was to lose control altogether.

He had moved aside to let her pass. She had glanced at him as she went through the door; she thought, not quite believing it, that she saw unshed tears glistening in his eyes. "Goodnight, Lois; take care," he had whispered. She hadn't replied.

She had driven home on autopilot and, when she had arrived outside her apartment building, had realised that she remembered almost nothing of the drive itself. <I guess he was right to be concerned> she thought - <I could have easily had an accident>. She had slid wearily from the car, but some instinct had caused her to look up, above the roof of her building. She hadn't been able to see anything at all in the cloudy, dark night sky, but still... "Go *home*, Clark!" she had whispered.

Does he always watch over me? she now wondered, astounded at the thought.

And am I being unfair to him now? He trusted me with something... enormous, his biggest secret, something which it was incredibly difficult for him to tell *anyone*... can I really blame him for not telling me before?

How could I have accused him of not caring about me, when it is so obvious that he does? How could I have *not* seen *his* pain tonight?

******************************

Hovering over Lois's apartment building at that precise moment, Clark paused, considered, then landed in an alley nearby. He spun back into Clark and walked purposefully up to the entrance of Lois's building and up the steps. He had left Smallville determined to try to explain properly this time, always assuming Lois would listen, of course. He had been about to fly to her window and ask to be let in, but then it had occurred to him that now she knew the truth it was more honest to present himself as Clark - after all, he had made it pretty plain to her that it was *Clark*, not Superman, he wanted her to be interested in. And, as she had correctly - and uncomfortably for him - pointed out, he had given her some very mixed signals as Superman. He wasn't going to make that mistake any more.

Besides, he hadn't failed to notice her expression of relief when she had emerged from his bathroom to see that he was again dressed as Clark and that the Supersuit was nowhere in sight.

He hesitated outside her door, then closed his eyes briefly as if in prayer, then knocked.

He listened, heard the sounds of Lois replacing something on her coffee-table (an ice-cream carton? he guessed) and getting to her feet. He heard her footsteps padding towards the door, recognised that she was barefoot. He resisted the temptation to Super-look through the door, and waited.

"Who is it?" Lois asked, not really wanting any visitors and prepared to tell whoever it was to go away.

"It's me - Clark," came the reply. Lois backed away from the door in shock. She had not expected this.

"Can I come in?" he asked. "I think ...we need to talk."

She moved to the door again, but didn't open it. "I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about." Lois was torn. She was aware that she really *did* want to talk this thing through, and that she had been unfair to him, but she needed reassurance. What were his motives?

"No, it isn't," his voice came back, insistent. "I *really* want to talk to you, Lois. I want to... try to explain, try to ...see if we can at least be friends. I *don't* want to lose your friendship - that's *far* more important to me than anything else - and I *mean* *anything*."

Lois inhaled sharply, then made a decision and opened the door. She moved aside to let Clark in, then closed it behind him and fixed him with an intense stare. "Explain that."

Clark, relieved that Lois had at least let him get this far, returned her gaze and spoke in a low, insistent voice. "I mean it, Lois. Everything - my career, my life as Clark Kent, Superman... *none* of it means anything if you're not part of it. If you didn't want anything at all to do with me then... there'd be no reason for me to stay in Metropolis - or even America, for that matter."

Lois was momentarily speechless; he cared *that much* about her? She didn't doubt his words for a second; she had become an expert in knowing when Clark was lying to her, even though she hadn't known *why* he was lying; this time she was well aware from his expression that he was telling her the absolute truth. The little voice in her head whispered <he *loves* me - does any of the rest of it matter?>. But she shook her head slightly. It mattered; it just didn't matter as much as it had. But she still had to know how he could say he loved her, and yet behave in a way which had hurt her so much.

She moved towards the sofa and sat down, gesturing for him to join her. Clark sat at the far end, but facing her, and said, "Thank you for giving me a chance, Lois."

She nodded, and said abruptly, "Tell me about when you were shot."

He nodded in response. "You were right earlier... I hadn't realised, until you said it, how much my actions then had hurt you, and I should have realised. Dad said... well, that I'd been very unfair to you."

"You called your parents?" Lois asked. Clark shook his head. "I went to Smallville after you got home - I've just got back." Lois's jaw dropped. She stared at him, then said, "I guess I hadn't quite appreciated it yet - you're Superman, of course you can fly to Smallville and back whenever you want - or anywhere else, for that matter."

"I'm *Clark*, Lois," he pointed out quietly. "Superman is just - something I can do. The suit is a disguise, that's all. I don't *have* to be wearing it to... do certain things." He watched her reactions, trying to see whether she understood. As she nodded slowly, he allowed himself to float a couple of inches off the sofa, as a demonstration. Her jaw dropped again and she said, in little more than a whisper, "My God."

Clark let himself fall again and took a deep breath. <Here goes>. "Lois, I want to explain about Clyde and being shot. First, though, I... I've wanted to tell you about Superman for quite a while, but it's kind of a difficult thing to tell anyone, especially as I've had good reasons to keep it secret for so long. I *did* want to tell you, but not... in the middle of a gambling den with hordes of other people around. When Clyde shot me, I realised I *had* to play dead. I saw your face as I fell; I heard your voice as you bent over me and held me, and I felt your tears. It... was tearing me apart. But I couldn't do anything - I'd been shot at point blank range and anyone else - any *human* - would have been killed outright. I was just desperately hoping that no-one would notice there wasn't any blood. When they dumped me out of the car, I ran off, then flew home to Smallville."

Lois was listening, white-faced; his words were bringing back the full horror of that evening. It had been a time she never, *never* wanted to experience again.

Clark paused, then continued. "I should have gone to see if you were all right - as Superman, I mean. But it's been really difficult, for a long time now, to keep saying 'Superman told me' or 'Clark told me', as an explanation for knowing what's been going on. I didn't want to go to you then and say I'd heard what had happened to Clark but had got there too late to help..." He stopped, knowing what he needed to say but unsure how to continue.

Lois's brain, however, was now working overtime. "Wait a minute - if you were pretending to be dead, you wouldn't have known immediately how you were going to explain being alive again - I mean, Professor Hamilton's genetic work was a great excuse, but you wouldn't have known that you'd use that... you thought Clark *was* really dead, that you couldn't come back to Metropolis as Clark, didn't you?"

Clark wondered again just how Lois always managed to figure things out with so little information. She had to be the most intelligent - no, not just intelligent, but intuitive person he knew. Just another reason why he loved her so much, of course.

"Yeah, that's the way it was. I spent hours and hours in Smallville not knowing what I was going to do. All I could think of was how much I'd lost: my career, which I love, my friends, who mean a lot to me - and you, who I love more than all the rest put together. I guess I was so busy feeling sorry for myself that I forgot to consider how you might be feeling."

With an understanding smile, Lois replied, "I guess you had a lot of other things on your mind. Anyway, you probably had no idea how I felt - okay, I've told you a few times you're my best friend, but no more than that, and I do try very hard not to let anyone see I'm anything other than a hard-headed journalist..."

"I saw beyond that façade long ago," Clark informed her. "And anyway, I *should* have known - not just because of the way you reacted when I was shot, but my parents spoke to Perry while I was in Smallville and he told them you'd taken it really badly. I *should* have done something about it, but I was too busy wallowing in my own self-pity. I didn't even want to go back to Metropolis to be Superman. Mom and Dad had to work pretty hard to shake me out of that." He sighed, remembering his behaviour then with regret. "When I did go back, I didn't want to see you as Superman - it would have been too tempting to tell you I was really Clark, and it just didn't seem like the right time. Then I went to Professor Hamilton's lab looking for Capone and the others, and found his research notes - that showed me how I could 'resurrect' myself. The only thing I can say in my defence is that I let you know I was alive as soon as I could."

"Yeah, I guess you did," Lois murmured, remembering her joy as she had seen Clark walking towards her, and how she had simply run to him, smothered in concrete as she had been.

"I know I could have done a lot to lessen your distress," Clark added penitently. "And I am really sorry. Do you think - you said you couldn't forgive me...?" His dark eyes focused on her with a sad and longing expression.

"I was angry," Lois defended herself, "and hurt. Very hurt - but I guess I understand now why you did what you did. And I understand why you didn't tell me about being Superman." She gave him a quick, tentative look from under her eyelashes, her expression a little guarded and... was that embarrassment, Clark wondered?

"I think... you know, in a way I'm more angry with myself over that, because I *should* have *known*," she continued. "I mean, my best friend spends half his time masquerading as a superhero - a superhero *I* know better than just about anyone in this city, and who I talk to on a pretty regular basis, and who takes me *flying* - and who keeps saving my life... and I can't see beyond a pair of glasses?" She shook her head in exasperation and frustration. "I can't *believe* that I was so stupid! And I've won *three* Kerth awards - for investigative journalism!"

Clark smiled. This was the Lois he knew and loved. "I can understand how you feel about that. You *are* a brilliant investigative journalist. But I'm just... very good at disguising what I do. I know my excuses for disappearing to go and be Superman aren't very good..."

"Pathetic!" Lois snorted.

"Yeah, but other than that I try really hard not to give myself away. And anyway, why would you possibly suspect that Superman was really your partner? You had no reason to suspect it," Clark pointed out. "And anyway, the disguise isn't just the glasses." He removed his glasses to reinforce the point. "It's the suit as well - like Mom said, when I'm in the suit, people tend to concentrate on that and what I can do - not what I look like."

"Mmm... I don't know about that," Lois murmured, thinking that he looked *very* attractive in the suit. "But you do look very different without the glasses - which I guess explains why I've never seen you without them before tonight."

Clark grinned. "Yeah - I'm very careful about wearing these."

Lois sat up straight suddenly as another thought occurred to her. "You're Superman - so why did you fall asleep in the car? - I mean, after Superman - you - had captured Capone and his mob at the Planet and I drove you home?"

Clark managed to follow Lois's sudden shift of topic, but then he was used to her going off on tangents, after all. But he was puzzled at this question: it seemed to him to be a *non sequitur*. "Lois, I may have super-powers, but I still get tired. Okay, I don't need as much sleep as everyone else, but that night... I hadn't slept at all the night before and it *had* been a pretty stressful experience, you know... I just - fell asleep!" He gave her an enquiring look. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh..." Lois trailed off, and smiled wryly. "I guess no reason - it doesn't matter." <Oh Clark!> she thought <how is it you have a plausible - and totally *forgivable* - explanation for *everything*!>

Clark had other priorities on his mind, though. He still wasn't sure whether Lois's understanding manner towards him meant that she *had* forgiven him, and whether their relationship had any future. "Lois... you know that I love you..."

Her expression softened and she involuntarily swayed towards him. "Yeah. I know - now. I didn't before - well, I mean I wasn't sure. I thought - it was as if you were blowing hot and cold, especially the way you kept rushing off. And it *always* seemed to happen just as we were about to have a serious conversation about us, our relationship... whether we *had* a relationship."

Clark nodded, well aware of what Lois was referring to. He was about to speak, but she waved him into silence, and continued.

"But I understand everything now. And I love you too... that's what I was trying to tell you earlier, before you went into this whole Superman thing...well, I guess you know I was in love with Superman, but what I mean is that I love *Clark*, I realised a few months ago that Superman wasn't real, Clark was and that Clark - you - meant more to me than best friends- umph..."

With a blur, Clark was sitting next to Lois and had taken her in his arms, and had stopped her babbling by kissing her. Not tentatively as he had previously done as Clark, neither was it the brief but firm pressure with which Superman had occasionally kissed her. This was a lover's kiss, tender, passionate and loving. Lois melted into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and curling her body into his. This was where she belonged. Clark, her *super* guy, had claimed her at last. Or had she claimed him? She wasn't sure, and she didn't care really.

After some minutes, Lois gradually became aware that they were no longer sprawled on her sofa, but were floating a foot or so above it. "Oh my God - Clark - what are you doing!" she squealed, tearing her mouth from his. He looked down and saw what she meant. He grinned, revealing a flash of brilliant white teeth. "Sorry. That - happens sometimes, if I'm very relaxed or... happy." He drifted them down again. "That better?"

"Yeah," Lois replied, still amazed by what had happened. "It's still incredible, though... I mean getting used to what you can do."

It had been gradually getting darker as time went by, and Lois, as she was speaking, reached for the table lamp, but Clark stilled her hand and gave her a quick smile. "Watch."

She looked at him, puzzled, and saw him remove his glasses and begin to stare at... something across the room. She didn't understand at first, but then saw a slim ivory-coloured twisted candle on the dresser begin to smoulder and then the wick took light. She stared open-mouthed. "Wow... that's incredible! Clark..." He continued to focus his attention on his task, however, and didn't stop until all of the decorative candles which Lois kept around the living-room of her apartment were lit. "I... don't *believe* I've just seen that!" she breathed, as Clark smiled broadly, enjoying her disbelief. Lois caught her breath again: she knew that smile. It was Superman's rare but beautiful grin of pleasure. Even though she now knew Clark *was* Superman, it still felt incredible to be faced with this evidence of his dual identity. And to see him use his super-powers as *Clark* was... But there were definite possibilities here!

"On the other hand..." Lois murmured, giving him a mischievous glance from underneath lowered eyelids, "these powers of yours could be really useful for undercover investigative work..."

Clark grinned in return. "I know - it is!"

"What! You mean you already use your powers for investigating? Without me finding out?!"

"Yeah, occasionally," he replied, enjoying her indignant response.

"That is so - not fair! You could have got stories I would *never* have been able to get!" Lois protested loudly.

Clark laughed aloud, enjoying the situation. "But Lois, you're the competitive one, not me. When have I ever held out on you on a story?"

Lois had to acknowledge that he was right there. Even in the early days of their working relationship, when she had been very competitive and had seen him as a potential rival (despite his junior status) she had frequently held information back. Clark, on the other hand, even in situations where it was 'every reporter for themselves', had always shared what he knew with her. Even after she had stolen his Superman story! (though he'd got his revenge for that, of course, although that was another story...).

"Clark?" She had remembered something else.

"Yeah?" He smiled at her, love in his expression.

"Did you follow me home - you know, earlier?"

He nodded. "Yes. I was worried - I wanted to be sure you got back safely. But - how did you know I was there? I deliberately stayed high enough to be out of sight."

Lois flushed slightly. "You *heard* me?"

He tapped an earlobe. "Yes. My super-hearing's pretty strong, and given the way I feel about you - and that I was worried about you anyway - it was attuned to your voice. I just couldn't understand how you knew I was there."

She shrugged. "Intuition more than anything else. I don't know - it seemed like I *felt* your presence. Weird, huh? But I'm grateful, despite how it might have seemed. I wasn't as alert or focused as I should have been, given that I was driving."

Clark gave her a steady, reassuring glance. "Don't worry. I would *never* let anything harm you if I could possibly avoid it."

Strangely, instead of Clark's words reminding her of the times when Superman had promised to protect her, Lois found herself remembering the evening she had run to Clark for comfort when the Prankster was threatening her. She had told Clark that Griffin had said he would kill her, whereupon Clark had replied that he would *not* let that happen. At the time his words had comforted her; now she realised that he had a lot more power to prevent such an occurrence than she'd thought.

She turned to him and wrapped her arms around him, welcoming the way in which his arms swiftly enfolded her in return. It felt like... like coming home, she realised in wonder. This was where she belonged, with this man. She caressed his face with her hand. "How many times have you saved my life, Clark?"

He grinned, and caressed her face in return. "I stopped counting a long time ago, Lois. I'm just glad I was able to be around when it mattered."

"Probably more times than I realise, as well," Lois admitted ruefully.

"And there'll probably be many more times, if I know you, Lois," Clark replied. "But then, isn't that what best friends are for?"

Lois gave him a wry smile. "Yeah, but that seems a little one-sided - after all, I don't do much saving of your life in return."

Clark gave her an incredulous look. "Apart from saving me when Ariana Carlin shot me with the Kryptonite bullet, you have saved me several times. I don't mean 'rescuing me from the jaws of death' necessarily, but you have rescued me from despair so many times. There were times when... I wasn't sure I could continue as Superman, when I couldn't cope with not being able to save everyone, when I couldn't get there in time, every time, when people turned against Superman or when it seemed that my attempts at helping only hurt. Each time you were there; you gave me a reason to go on. *You* made me bring back Superman when I nearly gave the role up altogether, right at the beginning when Luthor was testing my powers to see what I could do." He focused intently on Lois's face, and saw the dawning realisation: the times when Lois had talked to Clark about Superman without knowing that Superman could hear her all along.

"I'm glad I was able to help," she whispered.

He hugged her tightly. This woman meant the whole world - no, considering where he had come from, the entire *universe* to him, and he intended to spend the rest of his life making sure that she was aware of that. He didn't know exactly where they were going from this point; what difficulties there might be ahead of them; how Lois would cope when she *really* realised that her boyfriend (future husband? he hoped) would have to spend the rest of their lives rushing off at a second's notice to prevent some disaster or other occurring, which meant that they would never really be able to plan special occasions and guarantee being able to enjoy them. But they loved each other, and that love seemed to him at that moment to be so special, so deep and so... *preordained*... that he was sure they would find a way to be together and happy.

He released his hold on her slightly; not altogether: just at that moment he had no intention of letting her out of his arms; and smiled into her happy face. He had not replaced his glasses after lighting the candles, and as Lois watched him in the soft light she realised how different he looked without them - and yet not quite like Superman either. This was a *different* Clark; but then, she was fast appreciating that the *real* Clark was very different from the Clark Kent she had thought she had known, and also quite different from the superhero.

"What're you thinking, farmboy?" she asked him with that particular *gamine* smile which he loved.

He grinned at her. "Nothing much... and everything, I guess. Just how much I love you, and need you ... and want to spend..." a lifetime, he thought, but knowing his love's caution and resistance to the idea of commitment, decided not to run that one past her just yet; "...every minute of every day with you."

She tossed her hair and smiled back at him, love in her brown eyes. "You'll find that a bit difficult when you're sorting out the next train derailment, won't you?"

He laughed and hugged her again. "I'll just have to take you with me."

She stared at him, not having thought of that yet. "You will?"

"Sometimes. If I can." He could see that this was probably not going to be enough for her, so he distracted her in the most effective manner possible. He kissed her. Thoroughly.

They could discuss details later, he thought. A *long* time later.

Lois, kissing Clark every bit as passionately as he was kissing her, also smiled as she thought of all the things she *intended* to discuss with him - including getting a promise from him to take her with him as often as he could. <But that can wait until tomorrow> she told herself. <Now... now, *nothing* else matters...>

She didn't even notice Clark gently flying them across her room to the window; as she wrapped her arms even more tightly around him, he blew gently across the room to extinguish the candles. She threaded her fingers through his hair as he freed one hand to open her casement; and she protested as he freed himself from her - though didn't remove his lips from hers - for the very brief moment it took to don his Superman outfit. He then took her back into his arms, wrapping her in his cape and flew them out of the window into the cool, fresh night air, and drifted them straight up away from the lights of the city and towards the stars.

His favourite things, Clark thought. Flying, night-time, the stars... and Lois. Always Lois.

All my fantasies come true, Lois realised. Flying with Superman... and being with the man I love, and who loves me in return.

They looked into each other's eyes simultaneously and whispered, "I love you."

The End